#chuck. who just kind of sits around being rich

[tiktaalic]

i thikn. i understand the urge for au cas to have a crazy overinvolved perpetually disappointed father and for it to be chuck. i do. but feels more accurate for cas to have crazy overinvolved perpetually disappointed mother (naomi). and of course the truest version. is succnatural where chuck wants nothing to do with him his brothers want nothing to do with him and the most attention he gets is from his dad's 3rd wife who pays for him to go to conversion therapy which cas finishes and then a week later starts dating a man on trial for a string of murders

[deadbirdvibes]

If you were in charge of Peanuts, how would you have done it? Let me show you how I would've done it.

I would've written a comic strip (and done a TV special based on it) that involved Charlie Brown running away because of the bullying.

The storyline begins with Patty, Violet and Lucy tormenting Charlie Brown as usual. Then Violet goes too far by slapping him across the face and pushing him in the dirt, all while saying the most cutting remark.

This causes Charlie Brown to run away, sobbing.

Later that day, he calls up Peppermint Patty and asks her if she can stay with him for the night. She agrees.

That night, Charlie Brown packs his things, right after he leaves a note informing that he will never return. The note goes something like this.

Dear everyone

I'm leaving this neighborhood and I'm never coming back. All of you treat me like garbage, and I've had enough. What is the point of even living anymore if nobody will ever be kind to me? If none of you like me, why can't you just admit that, you stupid jerks? I hate all of you.

Sincerely,

Charlie Brown.

Then Peppermint Patty's dad picks him up

Sally reads the note and then informs Snoopy and Woodstock that Charlie Brown ran away. Then Snoopy and Woodstock tell the entire neighborhood, and they all look for him.

Meanwhile, at Peppermint Patty's house, Charlie Brown tries to end his life by cutting himself and jumping out of a window. But luckily, Peppermint Patty and her dad stop him. They tell him that killing himself won't solve anything, and they teach him how to stand up for himself. Charlie Brown decides to stay for at least two more days and during that time, Peppermint Patty, along with Marcie and Franklin teach him not to take crap from anyone. They tell him that if anyone from his neighborhood ever picks on him again, he can always talk to them.

Meanwhile, at Charlie Brown's neighborhood, everyone (except Violet) wonders how they could've been so horrible to him. Violet thinks that he deserves to be picked on, but everyone else disagrees. They all turn against her after seeing her true colors. Then, surprise, surprise, Charlie Brown comes back and everyone is overjoyed to see him. Everyone that is, except Violet. She tries to insult him, but this time, Peppermint Patty gives her a very scathing "Reason You Suck" speech, and it goes a little something like this:

"Let me tell you something Violet, Chuck has told me all about you and frankly, you are not a good person. You are a selfish, spoiled, shallow and manipulative person who thinks that she is better than everyone just because she is rich and pretty. And you treat everyone like garbage for being "below you" and you have given thet worst of that to Chuck. He might not be as intelligent as you, but he's a sweet and kind boy, and he would never do anything to hurt any of us. But you go and pick on him to the point where he has no self respect. That says a lot about what a disgusting person you are. And besides, your so called "friends" don't even like being around you. They only hang around you out of fear that you will start being mean to them if you don't. You are a horrible person, and frankly, nobody cares if you live or die, including me."

Charlie Brown gathers whatever courage he has left, and calls Violet a stupid, disgusting, selfish, shallow hag, and tells her that the world would be better off without horrible, awful people like her. Then he slaps her across the face, giving her a taste of her own medicine, teaching her a lesson.

After this, Violet runs off crying.

And then she gives a brief one to everyone else:

"And for all of you, if you ever pick on Chuck again, Franklin, Marcie and I will kick your butts so super hard, that none of you will be able to sit for two weeks. You got that?"

Then Peppermint Patty goes home.

Patty then says: "You guys, I think it might be best for us to never pick on Charlie Brown again".

Everyone agrees, and they all promise to never hurt him again. They also stop hanging out with Violet.

How's that for a storyline? I'm just sharing my idea on how I would've done Peanuts.

(I'm not trying to ruin it).

that was a really well thought out storyline! i like the running away idea a lot actually, that seems in character. i also love peppermint patty sticking up for him, that’s so cute.

not a huge fan of the whole suicide attempt thing, in my mind this is an eight year old boy, but i get why you would put it in there.

i think it’s a really good idea, i don’t think you ruined it at all.

[an-american-anglophile]

I’m thinking a lot about just how perfect it is that this show was positioned from day one as being a legal drama, whereas Breaking Bad was always more of a straight crime drama. Because this is a dirty, perverted world these characters occupy. The Albuquerque of Vince Gilligan’s fictional universe is a broken place, governed by a pretty Old Testament-level system of consequences for our actions. So the fact that something as big as the law, the very concept of Law itself, is the backdrop for this show is important.

Because what a sorry profession the law is in Better Call Saul’s world.

It’s so very easy to look at Jimmy (and now Kim) and think they’re outliers. Rotten apples. They’re tarnishing the very notion of the law with the evil and selfish ways they ‘practice’ it. In the process, they doom themselves. That part is easy. But we know that it’s not just them. Chuck McGill was essentially the protagonist of his own Shakespearean tragedy, so consumed by his devotion to Law with a capital L that he lost the ability to tell when he’d begun to undermine his own principles. Chuck was damned, too.

But look at this very episode. At the way Howard and Cliff agree to put Irene Landry in a wheelchair so that she’ll strike a more pitiable figure to the mediator judge who’s coming. That’s a very mild sort of sin. Jimmy blows his nose with more evil in his heart than that. Neither Howard nor Cliff are inherently bad people for doing that, certainly. And yet it is highlighted. Howard first starts to feel the effects of the vet’s drug right as he’s invited Irene to sit in that chair, too. Starts to feel the heat.

Look at how Rich Schweikart pounces on the opportunity to settle this lawsuit the minute he smells blood in the water from Howard’s meltdown, just as Jimmy and Kim knew he would. Rich is the legal representation for a corporation that manipulates and abuses the trust of the elderly as a matter of course, the kind of behavior that made so many of us so viscerally uncomfortable when Jimmy tried dabbling in it at the end of Season 3.  

All of this is legal, what’s going on here. Some of it is a necessary evil, some of it is more defensible than not, but this is what the Law is. What does this remind you of? Because it reminds me of Slippin’ Jimmy. The kind of chicanery that Chuck so vehemently opposed him for perpetrating. But what the hell was everyone else doing this whole time?

You think this is bad? This chicanery? They’ve done worse. They’ve all done worse.

It’s a perversion of the law because the law is only useful as a concept so long as it’s the vessel through which we do what is *right*. The entire Albuquerque-verse is dominated more than anything else by the power we have to do the right thing and the wrong thing, whether we break bad or break good. So on a thematic level, for a group of *lawyers*, of all people, to reflect these kinds of qualities, these Slippin’ Jimmy qualities... is damning.

Walter White famously said toward the end of “Fly”, in an epiphany brought on by sleeping pills he’d been slipped by Jesse, that it didn’t matter whether a fly got into the meth they were cooking because “it’s all contaminated.” There is no truer statement about the stories of Jimmy, Kim, Howard, Chuck, and the rest of the Better Call Saul cast. It’s all contaminated. They contaminate it for themselves, for each other, and make it so very hard for decency to shine through.

To me, that’s the tragedy of Howard Hamlin. It’s the tragedy of all of them. These lawyers who so easily understand the law and so struggle to understand what’s right. Some of them (Chuck) are never able to see the world beyond their own perspective enough to make it to the ‘right side’, whatever that may be. Some of them (Howard) have just enough self-awareness to understand the way people are reduced to their most craven selves for nothing, but still can’t escape the pull of the current around them. Some of them (Jimmy and Kim) try to become one with the current, for all the good that does them when a true force of nature (Lalo) comes knocking.

When Howard was talking to Cary, the young employee restocking the fridge with sodas today who hopes he might become tomorrow’s Chuck McGill, his dialogue (”Well, maybe there are more important things”) evokes a line he spoke back in “Fall”, when Chuck himself was balking at the notion that he should become partner emeritus rather than remain a practicing lawyer: “Chuck, there’s more to life than this.”

Words worthy of his epitaph. Rest in peace, Howard.

[helliontherapscallion]

pspspsp can I just request an immortal reader who's life is just dull/sad as hell since they've seen their loved ones leave or die in front of them so many times

but when they meet SBI or anyone, their life just suddenly brightens up? (Platonic and it can be any type of fic!)

(A/N): I got waaaayy too carried away with this. Star god reader my beloved (also, I’d imagine that your cloak looks like this guy’s but on the inside with the outsides being any color of your choice (credit goes to original artist))

If you want more god!reader content with the dream smp, @wooloo-inc has a really good series about a male!nature god!reader (aka, the god of dilf collection)

In the beginning when DreamXD created you (which if you think about it, that makes him your father, but I digress) from stardust and meteorite shards, you were a ball of fun loving sunshine (well, starshine?)

You loved watching over all of humankind, admiring their determination and bonds with other humans (both romantic and platonic)

Your older brother, the god of the moon, told you about how they viewed you and you were amazed

“Oberon?” You ran up to your older brother and tugged on his cloak making him hum in question, not looking up from his parchment scroll. “What- what do the humans think of me?”

He scoffed and glanced at you with his lily white irises, “why are you on about them again? They are lowly creatures compared to us, filled with greed and misfortune.”

“They worship us and that’s how you speak of them?”

“(Y/n) believe me, you have not seen the brutality they are capable of. War, famine, greed, plague, genocide, it’s all something you have not witnessed before. You have only seen the good in those things.” 

“But Oberon, I wanna-” he lightly smacked the side of your head, “use proper English. We are gods and you will behave as such.”

You huffed, “I want to know about how they view us! I do not care about the bad things they have done! Plleeeaaassseeeeeee Beri?” You willed the stars that constantly gleamed in your eyes to shine brighter as you fluttered your eyelashes at him. He may seem like he hated everyone and everything (especially his siblings), but he had a soft spot for his youngest sibling. He just stared at you for a bit before he sighed and shifted in the massive throne so that you could hop up onto his lap. With a wave of a slender pale hand, he conjured up various images of humans with stardust gazing at the stars and the moon with carefree swipes of his hand. 

“They view us as… poetic of sorts. They compare us to romance,” an image of two human males kissing then gazing into the stars laying down on a cliff came into view, “fortune tellers,” an image of the Aquarius and the Capricorn constellations popped up making you squeal in happiness. He chucked and changed the picture to a mother and son standing over a grave looking up in amazement at a shooting star, “and most importantly, as a sign of hope. 

“They see us as complementary, the moon and the stars cannot be as beautiful without the other. We hold the power of the night and everything it touches, (y/n). This is our kingdom, do not forget that,” the image changed to the moon surrounded by stars and swirling blues and purples of nebulas.

You looked at the images with awe, absorbing every word that fell from his mouth. “Beri?” He once again hummed, his deep baritone voice sending vibrations along your back. “Will we be together forever?”

His lanky arms wrapped around your much smaller frame, “for all of eternity. The moon is nothing without the night sky and all of the stars it holds.”

Centuries passed and your fascination with humans only grew from there

When you eventually asked if you could meet a human Oberon reacted angrily and forbade you from speaking of humans again in your shared palace, worried for your safety

When he caught you attempting to sneak out, he locked you in your room for months on end

Humans wondered why the stars hardly appeared in the night sky anymore, forming the theory that they had somehow angered you

They prayed to you more and more, begging and groveling for forgiveness

They left more offerings at shrines

You heard their every word, feeling your heartbreak with sorrow and guilt for your lovely humans

You snuck out of the palace that night determined to make it up to the humans

You quietly snuck past the main room where you and Oberon used to sit on your thrones together and control the night. The large doors were cracked open showing your older brother watching the night with boredom. As you passed, his voice startled you, “I just cannot stop you can I?”

He appeared in the doorframe looking at you emotionlessly, his eyes glinting with hidden pain. “Do you realize how cruel of a place that world is? How cruel humans are?”

“I do not care, brother! They are in anguish because they think I am angry with them! Because you locked me in here!”

“I have told you time and time again, they are ruthless creatures. Humans are constantly clashing with their own kind for the slightest bit of power, they’re greedy creatures! Have you forgotten what happened to Arachnia?”

A shiver went down your spine at the mention of your fellow deity. She wanted to be with humans but they stripped her of her grace and virtuosity, torturing her when the moon would rise. That is the reason spiders attack humans in the night when the moon and stars show themselves and are dormant in the daytime. However, that did not deter you. 

“I have not forgotten what happened to Arachnia, her tale fills me with grief. But not all humans are like that! They are compassionate, loving, and sweet creatures deep down, each and every single one of them!”

“They were not showing compassion or love when they tore Arachnia limb from limb! When they languish in riches while millions die around them! What part of that is compassionate?”

“Sure they do bad things sometimes, but have you forgotten the love they hold for each other? The determination and hope shining from within them when they pray to us? Have you forgotten that?”

“THEIR ACTIONS ARE NOT JUSTIFIED IN ANY WAY!”

“AND OURS ARE? YOU ARE BLIND, OBERON. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE CRUELTY THE GODS HAVE SUBJECTED HUMANS TO? WHEN OUR FATHER TOOK YEARS AWAY FROM THEIR LIFESPANS SOLELY BECAUSE THEY STOPPED WORSHIPPING HIM AS OFTEN AS THEY USED TO? WHAT PART OF THAT IS JUSTIFIED?” 

He just stared at you with angry irises and his chest heaving before he ran a hand through his long ivory hair and turned around, the flowing white cape flowing wildly behind him with unseen air. He walked back into the observation room and back to his throne. Without a second glance to you, he worked on the transition of power between the sun and moon. You could imagine your sister Aelia grinning brightly as she rose the sun for the day.

“You are to never return here if you step foot out that door. You will still have control of your duties of the night. However you will never return. Do not come back groveling for forgiveness when I have given you constant warnings of their cruelty. If I see your face show up here, I will make sure father smites you down. Now get out of my sight.”

You huffed and whipped around to the front entrance, the stars that constantly twinkled and the nebulas that constantly swirled in the inside of your cloak illuminating the white floors below you as you ran. You left the palace without a second thought, leaving your old life behind in favor of spending it with the humans.

When you came crashing to the Earth in a shooting star, you were amazed by the beauty of it up close and in person

It was everything you expected and then some

You heard the humans cheering and thanking you in their prayers when the stars returned brighter than usual

You being completely enamoured by all of the humans, even if they recognized you or not you loved them all unconditionally

You set up a little cottage in the tundra where you could see the night sky clearly with the occasional aurora borealis 

From the roof, you controlled the stars

The tales of you defecting from the heavens was a popular one, and you became somewhat of a symbol of the hope that humanity should hold for themselves and compassion

Occasionally sending shooting stars over humans you knew were stargazing

You have met many lovers, friends, and even your own adopted kids over the next millenia, all of them accepting your immortality and everlasting duties

But it’s all the same in the end: they come, they leave, and they die

With each death of your loved ones, you could feel your will to keep going dissipate

The stars grew dimmer gradually in the night sky

The humans gradually stopped worshipping you as you disappeared from the night skies

You became a distant memory for elders to tell children 

Disappearing from the face of the Earth for a few centuries when you could not take the constant deaths any longer

Nobody knew where your cabin laid so you were undisturbed for centuries on end, left to your grief

That was until a knock sounded at your door

The knock startled you out of the comfort of your bed. Reluctantly, you left the warmth of the multitude of blankets and donned your cloak to hide your unkempt appearance. When you passed the mirror hanging in the hallway, you could see that your face was shrouded by darkness with the exception of a single glint where your eyes were caused by the lone star that was a constant reminder of your position. Before you fell into a deep depression, the stars would illuminate your entire face if you put your hood up. 

You opened the front door without a care in the world. If the beings on the other side were humans that would take you away and torture you, you didn’t care. You’re long past the point of caring for your own well being.

On the other side was a man of average height and long shaggy blond hair pulled into a slick ponytail. He was dressed entirely in green with a green and white striped bucket hat placed on his head. Past you would’ve been cooing at the object, but now you dully looked at the man in front of you. You glanced behind him and your eyes widened at the huge black wings sprouting from his back. You know who he was the second your eye caught the black feathers; he was the Angel of Death.

“Hello, Angel of Death.”

He tried to peer into your shrouded features, only seeing two pinpricks of light where your eyes should be. He gave you a friendly smile, brushing off the snow that gathered on his shoulders. “(Y/n), the God of the Stars and the Night Sky. Giver of compassion to the human race, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Why are you here? Last time I checked, my last lover died centuries ago.”

“Yes, my condolences. They were lovely when I guided their soul to the afterlife.”

“You still have not answered my question, Angel of Death. Why are you here?” You grit out the last sentence through a clenched jaw. He has no right to talk about them when he assisted in taking them away from you. Him and your cousin, the Goddess of Death Kristin. They took everybody you loved away from you. You knew that their deaths were unavoidable since they were human and you were immortal, but you still couldn’t help but resent them.

“The Goddess of Death sent me. The God of the Moon and the Goddess of the Sun sent her a request to send me to check on you.”

You stared at him for a few moments before you saw him shivering slightly and sighed. You always had a soft spot for humans, even if the being in front of you was not a human in the slightest. He reminded you of an old friend. You stepped aside and gestured lazily inside the house, “come in.”

He started to visit more and more over the next century

He eventually befriended you about half a century into the visits

It was extremely difficult to do because of how guarded you were, but he managed to break you out of your shell

You realizing how kind he was and how much he cared for you

You quickly came to the realization that he was immortal as well after reading up on the Angel of Death

After another fifty years, he became your best friend

You both opened up and comforted each other about everybody you both lost over the years

When he adopted Technoblade and then Wilbur not long after Techno, you were extremely hesitant to get close to them

Even going as far as telling Philza that you thought that it was an extremely bad idea

Mortals always end up leaving in the end anyways, it’s best to avoid the endless cycle of hurt that came with having mortals around

You told him about your own adopted children that have died over the years

You refuse to meet them, cutting off all communication with Philza for a year or two

Eventually meeting his three adopted kids when you reluctantly accept a dinner invitation one day

You attempted to appear cold and uncaring, but your love for humans (especially baby humans) shone through when an infant Tommy started to play with your cape

It seemed that the stars and the moving nebulas within the fabric entranced him

From then on whenever you visited Philza, you always held Tommy until he was too old for you to do so

Becoming very attached to the blond with your strong innate parental instincts

You introduce Techno to mythology, sharing stories of your personal interactions with certain gods and entities throughout the years

You teach Techno how to cope with the voices as you constantly hear multiple prayers to you from humans at the same time

You arrange a meeting for Wilbur with the Goddess of Music when he asks you about her

Arranging for her to start giving him lessons in exchange of a favor that will be cashed at a later date

You help raise all three of them, often taking them off Philza’s hands for a night or two 

Their favorite activity with you is watching you raise the stars and turn the sky dark

They always loved to watch you move the stars and summon shooting stars for them

The stars gradually returned to your eyes and a constant ecstatic smile slowly became synonymous with your face again

Humans started to worship you again when the stars in the sky became brighter

You became your old self again after centuries of feeling lost 

To repay them for everything they’ve done for you, you decided to rearrange the stars for one night 

One night of having a different star pattern couldn’t hurt 

Sure, it’d make a few theories pop up among the humans, but those are fun to overhear sometimes

The young boys and Philza behind you watched in awe as your eyes started to glow brightly and you slowly moved your hands gracefully raising the stars with the moon, your cloak starting to flow with nonexistent winds. They’ve seen you raise the stars thousands of times, but it never ceases to amaze them. It was just so… entrancing. 

You broke into a slight sweat and started to move the stars from their original positions in the sky. Shaking slightly, you pushed back against the strain and slight pain that it brought you. You’ve never done this before, so you really didn’t know what you were expecting. You felt someone put a hand on your shoulder.

“What’re you doin, mate?”

“Uh Dad?”

“Not now Techno. Mate, are you alright?”

“Dad, look up. They’re rearranging the stars,” Wilbur breathed out.

You could hear Philza gasp slightly as he watched star after star move until they locked into place. There in the twinkling night sky was each of their names gleaming brightly in small lettering. When you were done, you fell into a kneel onto the ground and rubbed at your aching head panting lightly. 

You could hear the boys around you panic slightly as you regained your breath. As you heard them approach you you looked up at them and smiled, the stars gleaming brightly in your irises. “Do you like it?”

“Y-yes but gods, (y/n) are you alright?”

“I am fine, but stars, I have never done that before. Are you four ready for stargazing?”

“That was so pog, (y/n)! How’d you do that?”

“I hold the power of the stars and the night sky in my hands. My brother once told me that the night is our kingdom.” You laid down onto the grass and took off your cloak to cover up a shivering Tommy and Wilbur next to you. You sighed as you thought about your siblings; you wondered how they were doing. 

“I will gladly move the stars themselves for you four. You are my family.” There was a stretched out moment of comfortable silence as you five watched shooting stars blaze by. Eventually, you saw an aurora borealis materialize above you. Furrowing your brow, you looked at it in question. They don’t appear this time of year, so why-

“Aelia,” you breathed out as you watched the greens flow above you. She must’ve sent a gust of solar wind your way. 

“Isn’t Aelia the Goddess of the Sun?” Wilbur asked you.

“Yes, she is my oldest sister. She must have redirected the solar winds over here.” 

“Damn, what’s with the gods changing everything tonight? You guys need to fuckin chill.”

“Tommy!” Philza scolded and was about to continue before he heard you start to laugh. They’ve only heard you genuinely laugh only a couple of times, so the sound that left your mouth immediately brightened the mood. 

“Yes Tommy, I suppose we do need to ‘fucking chill’.”

“You swore! Fuckin pog,” Tommy cheered to himself as the others looked at you in slight shock at your words. If you’re being completely honest in all of the years you spent alive (which is since basically the beginning of time), you’ve never sworn once. You were raised differently than that. When you realized that the others were staring at you, you smirked at them. The stars twinkling and giving your eyes even more of a mischievous glint, “what? Have you never heard a god swear before?”

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[terrainofheartfelt]

Oh, here’s a question! If Dan and Blair were going to get a place together - assuming one isn’t moving into the other’s space, but they’re getting a whole new place to build their lives together in from scratch - what do you think it might look like, and what do you think the vibe would be? I always thought it was… interesting how at the end of 6x10 we got a glimpse into what Blair and Chuck’s townhouse was like (even though it 100% didn’t feel like them at all), and I’m curious what sort of space Dan and Blair might create together!

So first of all, I have had the MOST fun thinking about this answer so thank you for that. 🤍🤍🤍

This post is brought to you by @strideofpride and her dream home tag.

Okay so, this is an interesting question/premise because for the duration of the show, both Blair and Dan live in their childhood homes, set up by their parents, so like, we get an idea of their tastes, but it’s still adapted from their parents’. But when you compare their rooms, I think there are similarities in what they find comfortable/comforting and they would build their home around that. And though there are some artistic differences, what happens is pretty complementary. The color palette of soft blues and greys (and greens too) with warm lighting and warm & pastel colors in the accents. And when I referred back to their bedrooms, I noticed that Blair actually had a lot of earth tones in her bedroom. Inch-resting.

More under the cut because I had way too much fun writing this

So, I have made some ~moodboards~ BUT I have been collecting ideas since like, 18 months ago when I started writing Mouthful of Forevers. And on one of my fave blogs, I found this Gramercy Park apartment that I just kind of love for them, not all of the staging & interior design exactly, but the architecture of a renovated abbey, with those WINDOWS?! And the molding and the lighting fixtures and the home offices and the outdoor space. Idk it just feels very Dair to me. (idk anything about the neighborhood don’t @ me. I mean I kinda think it’s too far south for Blair’s taste but it’s not about the location for me on this but The VIBES)

Oh and ummmm in the Miloverse™ I hint at the Humphreys moving into a bigger house in Brooklyn and I think I like this one for them in that universe. The beauty of writing fic of the rich kid show is that everything’s made up and the price doesn’t matter. thehousehuntingblog is no longer actively posting but her archive is so fun to scroll through, and when I fancy giving myself a visual for a fic, even if I don’t end up writing much about it, that blog is one of the first I go to.

So a few things I imagine about Their Place

Dan just wants enough room for his books, a place to write, and a sit-in kitchen counter so he can cook and serve breakfast for his family. When Joy Harjo said the world begins at the kitchen table…

And because I’m getting very self-indulgent and much like the gg writers not letting the constraints of NY real estate stop me, my thoughts on the kitchen: I think they both like the feel of the loft kitchen, and that sort of french, mediterranean european kitchen with an airy space, no top cabinets, just open shelving and hanging things. It feels homey like the loft, but also harkens to the time they’ve had in France and Italy.

Dan is an absolute whore for soft lighting. He hates overhead lighting with the fire of a thousand suns (unless he’s cooking obvi). So, lots of lamps, and Blair loves an elegant lighting feature.

And Dan loves his Stuff. His books, his tchotchkes, his coffee mugs, the blown glass, the wall o’ photos in the loft kitchen.

Blair’s taste is neater than Dan’s, naturally, and leans towards more Victorian & Parisian things rather than the modern, and being who she is she likes touches of luxury and individuality. Things that are hers and no one else's. Which is why Dan’s preferences complement hers, because Brooklyn Boy has an eye for the unique.

She likes Dan’s Things(™) but wants to elevate them

she takes their plethora of photos and frames them to make a gallery wall

Absolutely have the colorful, cozy accents: rugs, cushions, blankets, but made out of the very best materials and fabrics.

Her expensive-ass candles

Every book, record, dvd case has a shelf. spillover piles like his old room make her nervous.

She meticulously organizes their collections, by genre then author & title, or artist, or director (but Audrey is in a collection of her own).

There's a turntable that’s aesthetic-suitable but is top of the line. she gets it as a gift one birthday and/or christmas and he insists that it’s too much but it’s a fight he cannot win

She also gets him an espresso machine and milk frother but her defense for that one is that she wants him to make her lattes so it’s really a gift for her. Evil lil genius.

Speaking of shelving, they have an extensive home library that only grows and grows and grows. Like Nads said, their whole home is a library, so there’s bookcases everywhere, and I love the idea of colorful bookcases. And the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of them having an upright piano in one corner. Musician!Dan supremacy. (Obviously in The Miloverse™ Blair insist on getting one when they move out of the loft).

They both want a home office space, Dan works from home all of the time, but when they do have kids, Blair also wants the option, but her work from home needs are less—she can get by with a nook in their bedroom or like one in the apt posting I linked above.

Dan’s office is a definite room with a door that closes, because sometimes he needs to block out the rest of the world, or sometimes Blair needs to lock him in there when he’s on deadline, but again, with The Kids he gets in the habit of leaving it open so they can find him when they need him. The first book he publishes after their first baby is written one naptime at a time with his daughter sleeping on the sofa in his office.

On a related note, I discussed this with S and we agreed that Blair and Dan are both green velvet sofa girls. Like one of these pieces so exists in either Dan’s office or their bedroom.

And, since this is Blair Waldorf, the master bath is of great importance. Her bathtub is her sanctuary. And I like the idea of taking those soothing deep blues and greens of their color palette and carrying them through into her bathroom. Or, even keeping that sunny warmth from her Pink Bathroom in the penthouse.

And, of course, these nerds have art everywhere. Forever laughing at the 🪑 home and that godawful painting on the stairwell like what happened to my dictator of taste???

Old film posters

Posters of art museum exhibitions (Mostly from the Met where Blair works)

Vintage Vogue covers

Original pieces when they go gallery cruising. During which they are absolute menaces; they’ll debate and pick apart a piece for hours until ultimately buying it. If there’s a cafe with a tip jar Dan will just preemptively slip cash in there as an apology.

I like to think when their daughter is born (Lizzie Humphrey rights!) Alison does a mural. Maybe about Sarah Kay's “B”? this is my headcanon post so I can do what I want

And Dan is artistically capable enough that I think he would paint flowers or leaves or stars on the wall. (Glow in the dark stars a ala jonah simms send post)

Oh and some more couch & bedroom inspo, just ‘cause. It’s about luxury meets the cushy and cozy with the warm accents. And they have to have a big comfy couch for movie watchings and game nights and couch sex when they have the place to themselves

Okay so there’s a kidfic that I’ve played in my head but haven’t written of Humphrey fam movie night and ofc Dan and Blair are invested in making their kids pretentious but it ends with their 4-year-old conked out with her head in Blair’s lap and the baby asleep on Dan’s chest and idk if I will write it but the picture makes me very Soft

All of these images were sourced from S’s dream home tag, thehousehuntingblog, thenordroom on tumblr, and pinterest.

[absolutepokemontrash]

Beach Day!

Masterlist~

As requested by an anon, The Half Demon kids get to have their beach day! Please enjoy!

‘‘Twas a summer’s day in the Devildom, and school was out for the next couple of months, what else was there to do other than have a fun little beach vacation?

“Do we have towels?”

“Check.”

“Umbrellas?”

“Yep.”

“Beach toys?”

“Uh huh.”

L!MC and Lucifer were running through the long list of items as the rest of the family loaded everything into their (several) cars. Mammon grunted and shoved one of three umbrellas into a gap in the piles of luggage, they were all packing the rapidly filling car like they were playing a game of Tetris from hell.

“Ya know, you two can try and, I dunno, help a little?!”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and looked up from his list. “I am helping, Mammon. I’m making sure this doesn’t end up like the last family vacation we took.”

“What happened last time?” The soft voice of A!MC piped up, they were carrying roughly four different carryon bags into one of the cars.

“Mammon forgot to pack sunscreen during our last little visit to a human world beach and we all got horrifically sunburned. That’s why this year we’ll be visiting a proper Devildom beach.” Lucifer explained.

“That stupid mistake nearly cost me my perfect skin.” Asmo grumbled, A!MC patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t feel too bad, dad. You look great!”

“Oh little butterfly,” Asmo patted A!MC on their head, much to the kid’s delight. “Go on~.”

“Hey pop!” Mammon’s head whirled around as he looked for the source of the voice. “THINK FAST!”

A duffel bag slammed into the side of Mammon’s head, knocking him into the side of the car.

“What the hell M!MC?!”

The little culprit gave their dad a fanged megawatt smile and shrugged. “I said think fast.”

“M!MC, he can’t think fast, he doesn’t have a brain.” Asmo smirked over at Mammon, who not so graciously flipped him off. A blast of water from wiped both the smirk and some of the makeup off Asmo’s face.

“Whoops,” M!MC lowered their water gun. “Misfire.”

Lucifer massaged his temples as he watched this complete and utter chaos unfold. This was ridiculous, he turned to L!MC. “I refuse to subject you to this, I don’t was CPS to come knocking. You are riding with Lord Diavolo and I.”

“Wooop!” L!MC cheered, then paused. “Was I not riding with you two before now?”

——————

After arriving and unpacking, everyone set out to the beach, per Lucifer’s totally reasonable beach rules, no cameras within eight feet of the beach. Asmo had to compromise and take his Devilgram selfies at Diavolo’s villa in the five minute window of time before everyone set out for the beach.

While the group made their way to the beach, M!MC proudly presented their shiny new metal detector to the crowd of not too impressed family members. Well, everyone but Mammon, he was hyped as all hell to try and find buried treasure.

As M!MC and A!MC lagged behind and chattered aimlessly, something flew right into M!MC’s face. Reeling at the sudden loss of their sight, M!MC’s hands flew to their face and peeled the thing off of them. A…piece of paper..?

No, not a piece of paper, it was a map! Well, half of a map!

“Woah… Pop! Check it!” M!MC waved the piece of paper in the air. “What if we use this to find treasure or something?”

Mammon’s eyes practically sparkled as he swiped the map from M!MC. “Kid, we’re gonna be rich. Not the lame kinda rich either, we’ll be… multiple yacht rich!”

“Oh geez…” A!MC murmured.

By the time the entire group had gotten to the actual beach, Mammon and M!MC had already had the layout of their fabulous Hollywood mansion planned out and were busily describing the kinds of cars they wanted to own. Armed with only half a treasure map and a metal detector, the two set off down the beach.

L!MC, Belphie, and Satan snickered like a bunch of kids as they set up their new pink unicorn floaty. It was just perfect for just slightly ticking off Lucifer. A!MC hummed happily as they unpacked all their sand toys, perfect for making a sand-empire! The rest of the adults set up the umbrellas and beach chairs and practically deflated when all the work was finished.

Hang on- where was Levi- OH! There he was. He had ran right into the water and was petting Lotan. Man… Lotan was fucking massive.

“Hey, Luke,” L!MC called out. “Why are you wearing water wings? You know those things don’t work, right?”

“H-huh?” Luke tilted his head in confusion. Like a chihuahua- “What do you mean?”

“Well, water wings aren’t like life jackets, water wings only keep your arms out of water. If you start to drown, those aren’t helping.” L!MC dutifully explained. “There are documented cases in the human world of kids drowning with their arms still afloat because of the water wings.”

Luke was having such a good day forty five seconds prior, now he was petrified.

——————

“Ah, this is the life, right Sea Monster Levi?” L!MC leisurely floated around on their giant pink unicorn floatie as Levi swam around them.

Levi couldn’t exactly speak, but the terrifying eldritch shriek of delight was enough of an answer.

“See, you should go outside more often, the ocean is outside, fresh air is outside,” L!MC continued to list lovely things that just happened to be outside until Lotan poked four of his heads above water. “Lotan’s outside,”

Levi grumbled and slammed his tail into the water, sending a massive wave over to L!MC.

“Fuck.”

Those were L!MC’s last words before the wave crashed into them and tipped over the floatie, leaving them angrily starfish floating in the water. “You fucking hikikomori.”

—————

A!MC carefully placed their bucket full of sand onto the ground upside down and slowly pulled the bucket away. Perfect! That made a great castle tower! The sand-city that A!MC had concocted could put any city to shame, there was a town hall, a bank, a museum, and multiple construction projects headed by Luke. Well, the chihuahua wasn’t doing too well with his castle-building.

“Aww…” Luke pouted as his castle crumbled. “I ruined it…”

“You should add a bit of water to the sand, Luke.” A!MC said as they carefully placed some seashell decorations around their castle tower. “It’ll help stop your towers from crumbling.”

Luke vehemently shook his head. “There’s no way I’m going near that water. Not after what L!MC said…”

“Luke, L!MC’s just being a butt, you won’t drown-” A!MC was unceremoniously cut off by Lotan rising from the depths of the ocean and L!MC’s squawk of protest when he began to bat their unicorn floatie around.

“Y-yeah… I won’t drown, I’ll be eaten by a sea monster…” Luke shuddered.

“A!MC, I’m living here.” Belphie laid his towel out a little ways away from the sand-city and collapsed into a snoring heap on the sand.

“Great! A new citizen!” A!MC smiled and clapped their hands. “Beel, are you going to join us?”

Beel took a large bite out of a watermelon and sat down next to Belphie. “Yeah, I’m going to live here too.”

“We’ve got a real kingdom now!”

—————

The metal detector beeped for the thousandth time that day and M!MC and Mammon were beginning to get tired. They had found a total of 45 cents and a bottle cap, not the heaps of pirate treasure their map promised.

“Alright old man, dig.” M!MC lazily motioned towards the spot in the sand where the metal detector beeped.

“Why do I gotta dig?” Mammon whined. “You do it this time!”

“I’m holding the metal detector!” M!MC snapped. “Lookit! This shit’s heavy!”

“UUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH.” Mammon dropped to his knees and began to dig, unearthing a second bottle cap.

“Have our intrepid treasure hunters struck gold yet?” The taunting voice of Satan wormed its way into M!MC and Mammon’s ears as they both rolled their eyes.

“Why do you care, Satan?” M!MC sneered. “Shouldn’t you be off waxing philosophical about the demon condition or some other pretentious shit right now?”

Satan scoffed and shook his head. “So you haven’t found anything, shocker.”

“Ya didn’t answer the question, Satan.”

“Fine, you two dumbasses forgot to bring water after you immediately ran to go find your treasure.” Satan chucked two metal water bottles at Mammon, both of which hit him in the face. “So where’s your little treasure map?”

M!MC grumbled and pulled the map out of their pocket. “Here.”

Satan raised an eyebrow as he looked over the map, then looked back up at Mammon and M!MC. “I’d expect this level of idiocy from Mammon, but not you, M!MC.”

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” M!MC and Mammon shouted in unison.

Satan flipped the map around so it was facing the pair, he pointed at the X. “You’re supposed to be going that way,” Satan pointed back towards where they had set up the towels and umbrellas.

“…shit.” Mammon murmured. “I swear if we just wasted two fuckin’ hours on this-”

“Don’t blame me! I’m a mathematician, not a fucking geographer!” M!MC hissed.

“Actually, cartographers are the ones that make maps-”

“SHUT UP SATAN!”

——————

“Ugh… I hate the ocean now…” L!MC trudged over to Lucifer and plopped themselves down next to him. “0/10. Next year, can we go somewhere with significantly less seaweed?”

Lucifer wordlessly pulled a clump of sea-gunk out of L!MC’s hair and dropped it on the sand next to them. The fucking gunk-thing then began to MOVE-

“…is that alive?”

“Probably.”

L!MC grabbed the thing and threw it as hard as they could into the water. “I’m not allowing that eldritch terror the privilege of evolving.”

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. “This is karma for the unicorn floaty.”

“That wasn’t even all my idea!” L!MC hugged their knees to their chest and grumbled. “Where’s Belphie, Satan and M!MC’s karma?!”

“I’m sure it’ll come soon.”

“Now would be nice…” L!MC growled.

“If you’re going to go sit and whine for the rest of the day you can walk back to the villa by yourself.”

“Ugh!” L!MC threw up their hands and walked away. “So Belphie can angst all he wants but I can’t?! This is bullshit!”

“LANGUAGE!”

—————

A!MC’s burgeoning kingdom had grown in population in the last few hours; Barbatos and Diavolo had moved in and were gleefully helping out with the construction projects (well, Dia was gleeful, Barbatos was standing off to the side holding lemonade), Simeon had joined in and was making a moat, and L!MC was designing the flag.

“Our walls will be impenetrable!” Diavolo proclaimed as he continued to reinforce the sand-walls. “No one would dare invade us!”

“Where’s our sand-army? I call dibs on being sand-general.” L!MC raised their hand. “Luke, you can be a sand soldier.”

“Huh?”

“Here’s your sand-sword.”

“L!MC this is driftwood…”

“Hit a bitch with it.”

“There will be no hitting of any bitches.” Simeon gently took the driftwood from Luke and chucked it into the ocean.

“Lame…” L!MC rolled their eyes.

A little while into the kingdom building, A!MC surveyed their land with a proud smile. Every little building was adorably decorated with shells and pebbles, the roads were laid out perfectly, the castle was stable… Ah. Perfection!

A familiar trio sauntered over looking down at their map and occasionally back up at the surrounding beach until they stopped right outside the moat outside of A!MC’s kingdom. Satan, Mammon, and M!MC looked up at the group and pointed their shovel and metal detector at them.

“Hey kiddos, and… not kiddos. We’re gonna need ya to move over. There’s treasure in the area and we gotta dig!” Mammon proclaimed, standing up straight and putting a hand on his hip.

“Uh… no?” A!MC sat down on their beach chair, but to them, it was more like a throne. “We spent forever building this, we aren’t just going to let you destroy it.”

“Can’t you build somewhere else?” M!MC waved their hand to a place farther down the beach that was just littered with holes from M!MC and Mammon’s treasure hunting. “Couldn’t have taken that long.”

“Are you stupid or just ignorant?” L!MC hissed, protectively moving in front of the sand-wall next to Diavolo. “This took literal hours. You three can piss off.”

“L!MC, don’t be dramatic.” Satan rolled his eyes, then looked to the adults. “Come on guys, this may actually lead to something historical. Can you guys move out?”

“Uh… fuck off?” Belphie sleepily looked up from his towel. “We were here first. Finders keepers.”

“Yeah,” Beel paused his job of helping clean up the toys and buckets. “Belphie napped here, this spots been claimed.”

Barbatos and Diavolo nodded in agreement.

“A!MC has claimed this land, therefore, it’s their kingdom.” Diavolo said.

“Guys, this ain’t a joke! There’s actual treasure here!” Mammon waved the map in the air.

“That doesn’t matter. our sandcastles, our rules.” Luke crossed his arms and huffed.

“Oh bullshit! Move over! Money and treasure is under your city and we’ll take it by force if we have to!” M!MC crossed his arms and glared.

“Really now~?” L!MC cooed, slamming their fist against their open palm. “Fucking try us.”

————

A fight would have broken out if it weren’t for Lucifer calling for everyone to eat. Everyone sat down on their towels and angrily munched on their macaroni salad and sandwiches.

Team Treasure hunter (it was generous to call them a team considering there was only three of them) were forming a plan to try and get passed the much larger Team Sandcastle. M!MC and Satan bounced ideas off of each other while Mammon stole everyone’s potato chips.

“So, we need to lure at least some of them away… but how?” M!MC stuck their hand into the much reduced bowl of chips and took out a fistful.

“Mmm…” Satan murmured. “Well, there’s a thief in our midst…”

M!MC knitted their eyebrows in confusion, then began to nod in understanding. “Ah… and we have someone very quick…”

Both Satan and M!MC turned to Mammon, who was polishing off the chips and counting their metal detector money. He stopped mid chew and tilted his head.

“What are ya lookin’ at?”

Over with Team Sandcastle, L!MC carefully traced Belphie’s hand onto a piece of paper with a vindictive smirk on both their faces.

“What are you doing?” Luke asked as he bit into his kebab.

“It’s an official declaration of war.” L!MC quickly finished up the tracing and proudly showed the picture of Belphie’s middle finger to the assembled team. “I think it’s very clear and concise.”

Simeon slapped a palm to his forehead as Luke let out a gasp.

“L!MC! That’s so vulgar and awful-” Luke’s irate yapping went completely ignored.

“It’s a very nice picture.” Beel calmly observed, turning over the paper in his hands.

“Enough about the declaration!” A!MC stood up and put their hands on their hips. “We need to take action immediately! I’m not letting our sand kingdom fall into their hands!”

“We know that A!MC, but we need to at least give them some kind of warning that we’re going to beat them into the ground.” L!MC said.

“They got their warning. Now is not the time for being polite, now is the time for curb stomping.”

“Is it just me,” Belphie leaned over to Beel and cartoonishly whispered. “Or is A!MC getting really intense about this?”

—————

Team Treasure Hunter’s battle plan did not go as well as they thought it would. Satan and M!MC did not factor the fact that Mammon would be stealing something and then running in sand, and next to no one can properly run in fluffy beach sand, what this poor narrator is trying to say is that Mammon got football tackled immediately because he couldn’t run after he stole something as a distraction. Oh well… at least the sand was soft…

Team Sandcastle’s superior numbers meant superior ideas, and one of their ideas was for A!MC to politely ask some of the beach dwelling creepy crawlies to attack the other team. Well uh… toes were pinched that day…

“Fools,” A!MC sat straighter in their beach chair. “All of them.”

“I’m loving the supervillain vibes, A!MC, but-”

“But nothing!” A!MC cut L!MC off with a huff. “I’m not a supervillain either!”

“Sounds like something a supervillain would say.” Belphie snickered, only to be blasted in the face with a water gun. A!MC was turning on their own people…

“Alright, everyone who dares to doubt me gets the water gun.” A!MC sneered. “My kingdom won’t fall!”

The kingdom fell.

One giant wave caused by Lotan and Levi playing in the water nearby crashed onto the beach and absolutely flattened the detailed sand kingdom. A!MC slowly moved their hair out of their eyes and turned to Lotan and Levi in the water.

“You… you…” A!MC growled, a tick forming in their right eye. “YOU SHUT-IN PIECE OF [Hello, this is the narrator, I’m very sorry but I cannot repeat what little A!MC said here. I hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive them for this outburst, their kingdom just got destroyed after all.]”

Simeon vaulted forward and covered Luke’s ears while the rest of the group on the beach stared in wide eyed shock as their sweet little A!MC cussed out two giant sea monsters. This was… not what they expected from their beach trip…

Beel quickly recovered from his shock and scooped A!MC up into his arms. A!MC didn’t seem to care all that much as they continued to kick and scream profanity at the giant sea monsters. Beel lumbered over to Asmo and handed the screeching A!MC to him.

“This is yours.”

“…Beel dear,” Asmo looked at the practically feral child that had managed to shift into their demon form, then looked to Beel. “Are you sure?”

——————

Ever the opportunists, Team Treasure Hunter managed to dig in the area where the sand kingdom once stood. After roughly an hour of digging, Mammon struck something… wooden. Hmm…

“Hey I uh… think I found somethin’!”

“Really?” M!MC exclaimed. “Lemme see! Let’s get it out!”

“Allow me,” Diavolo motioned for everyone to move away and leaned in. He yanked a massive treasure chest out of the sand like it was nothing and plopped it onto the beach. “Oh! It is a treasure chest! How novel!”

Mammon jumped forward and yanked the chest open, inside was an absolute mess of glimmering gold and jewelry.

“DON’T TOUCH THAT.” Lucifer’s booming voice stopped Mammon dead in place. Everyone’s heads swivelled to look at him. “It’s probably cursed gold, you idiots.”

“As much as I hate to agree with Lucifer, we should at least check before we touch anything.” Satan crossed his arms and grumbled.

The gold was hella cursed and basically useless. No one went back to the villa happy.

———————

A!MC sulkily kicked off their shoes and flopped backwards onto their bed. They stared half-vacantly up at the ceiling, they were so tired despite the fact that they hadn’t even gone swimming… they had spent their entire day building that stupid sandcastle kingdom…

M!MC flopped down next to them and let out an explosive sigh. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry about your sandcastle stuff…”

A!MC sighed and shrugged. “Yeah… sorry about your treasure…”

“Yeah… so far this trip blows.”

L!MC flopped down next to A!MC and practically deflated.

“What’s wrong with you?” M!MC asked, rolling over onto their side to look at their cousin.

“I’m in mourning…” L!MC grumbled, holding up a piece of pink stretchy plastic. “Lotan ate my unicorn floaty.”

“Aww… I’m sorry L!MC.” A!MC patted them on the shoulder. “Let’s go fight Lotan and Levi for revenge.”

“A!MC. I’m grieving, not suicidal.” L!MC said seriously, then their face melted into a grin as they began to giggle. “Dummy…”

“I’m not a dummy! I think we might have a chance!”

“Yeah, a chance of gettin’ eaten!” M!MC snickered.

“Okay… maybe…” A!MC giggled.

“Hey guys,” Simeon knocked on the door and poked his head in. “We’re making a fire for s’mores, you all better hurry up before Beel gets to everything.”

The three kids stuck their thumbs up and got ready to go. S’mores fix everything!

————

Author’s note: Okay, back in like… May, I promised I’d write a beach day episode for these characters, and it’s finally done!!

The whole sandcastle war is something that actually happened when I went to a summer camp ^.^

It was less about digging for treasure and more about who had the best sandcastles, and I shit you not, a wave slammed into the rival team’s sandcastle. It was funny as S H I T. HA! TAKE THAT RIVAL TEAM! MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE MADE YOUR CITY SO CLOSE TO THE WATER!

[sebstanns]

Cuffs

Summary: Bucky is guarding / detaining you as a favour to Sharon, unfortunately she gets delayed and the two of you are forced to spend the night together.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Fingering, frottage, mentions of light bondage. Spoilers for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

AN: Set after TFATWS, reader works for Sharon. May be the start of a series. Masterlist

"These cuffs are too tight." You whine loudly as Bucky pushes you into the motel room.

"No they aren't." He grumbles. "In fact you could probably get out of them if you tried hard enough."

You look around the room, to call it shabby would be a compliment.

"Sit down." Bucky says shortly, turning on the TV.

You sigh and perch on one of the beds, wriggling your wrists in the cuffs.

Bucky pulls out his phone and paces between the twin beds as he talks. "It's me. Yeah, I got her. She was being a pain in the ass so I cuffed her. Don't worry, she's fine."

You look up at him. "Let me talk to her." You hiss.

He scowls and shakes his head, the crease between his brows appearing. It's adorable really.

You can hear Sharon ranting on the other end. Oops.

Eventually he sighs and holds his phone out. "She wants to talk to you."

You smile sweetly and take it, holding it awkwardly in your restrained hands.

"Hello?" You ask, apprehensively.

"Tell Barnes to go outside." Sharon snaps.

"Err, can you give us some privacy?" You ask Bucky.

He turns from his position at the window and rolls his eyes. "I'll just be outside."

"We're alone." You tell her, almost dropping the phone.

"I've been calling you." She says, briskly.

"I don't know where my phone is, Barnes kind of abducted me so-"

"You didn't stick to the fucking plan, did you?"

"Technically I didn't, BUT I made it even better."

"You got greedy."

"I did it for us, Sharon. More investment means-"

"Don't drag my name into this. Lucky for you I managed to reason with the people you stole from."

"I didn't steal....the plan was...." You trail off, knowing that it's pointless making excuses.

"The plan was perfect until you went rogue and pissed off all the wrong people!" Sharon yells.

"Sorry." You mutter.

"I'm coming to get you and bring you back to Madripoor, you need to lay low. I promised them you'd disappear for a while."

"Fine." You sigh, grudgingly.

"I can't get a plane until the early hours so just stay put. Barnes will be guarding you."

"GUARDING me?" You splutter.

"Yes, didn't you hear what I said? You pissed off some prominent....personalities."

"Right."

"Just sit tight and try not to annoy Barnes too much."

"Promise." You sigh.

Sharon snorts in response and hangs up.

You tap on the window to indicate that the the call is over, Bucky slips back in and takes his phone.

"Everything ok?" He asks.

"Not really." You mutter, holding up your cuffed hands. "Please can you take these off? I'm obviously not going anywhere."

He eyes you suspiciously before nodding and fishing the key out of his pocket.

As he leans over to unlock you, you discreetly inhale in his scent. You've had a crush on Bucky since the first time you met him, in Madripoor. Then he'd been with Sam and the Baron, you'd only met him briefly but oh, your pulse kicked up a gear whenever he looked your way with those soulful blue eyes. You had crossed paths a couple of times since (he and Sharon seemed to be constantly doing favours for one another) and he always had the same effect on you. Sharon even teased you about it. And it might be (probably was) your imagination but you'd noticed his cheeks turn pinker when he was forced to speak to you, his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren't looking.

"Thanks." You murmur, rubbing your wrists.

He gives you one of his soulful looks and you feel it in the pit of your tummy. "You're welcome." He says, softly.

You had actually been thrilled when he turned up at the bar, and even more thrilled when he said lowly in your ear, "You need to come with me." You had known that Sharon would send someone to get you, but it hadn't occured to you that someone would be Bucky. The struggle was mostly for show, you just enjoyed the feeling of Bucky's big, strong arms restraining you.

"You may as well get comfortable." He says, not looking up from his phone.

"I'm hungry." You say, plaintively.

"In case you haven't noticed, this isn't the kind of place that has room service."

"I saw a vending machine in reception."

Bucky sighs impatiently. "What do you want?"

"Chips and soda? Barbeque and Sprite?" You smile, hopefully.

"Fine. Don't move."

"I've got some change in my pocket." You offer, jutting your hip out at him.

His eyes flicker over you briefly. "I got it." He grumbles.

You need a moment alone to process your conversation with Sharon - you had heard her go off at people plenty of times but her vitriol had never been directed at you. It had been you and her against the world for so long, she felt like your family. She must've gotten a lot of shit from those investment assholes. Like they couldn't afford to lose a few thou, you're surprised that they even noticed.

Bucky returns with your soda and chips, chucking them unceremoniously on the bed, and some salted chips and a Coke for himself. You're fascinated, you've never seen him eat before.

"Thankyou." You say, ripping open the chips. "I'm starving."

He sits on the other bed, his legs stretched out and crossed as he looks impassively at the TV. You can't help stealing glances at him as you eat. He's wearing all black as usual, leather jacket, jeans and boots, his bionic arm concealed. Your cunt aches at the prospect of being alone with him for an entire night, you want to feel his arms around you again, his strong thighs between yours and his mouth, well, everywhere.

"Did Sharon tell you what I did?" You ask.

"I didn't ask for details. I just know that you pissed her off." He says, still looking at the TV.

"She's taking me back to Madripoor." You say quietly.

"I know. Makes sense." He shrugs.

"You and her go way back, right?"

"I've known her for a while."

"How come you and Sam are always doing her favours? You owe her or something? She doesn't like to talk about it." You probe.

"Neither do I." He says, turning his unflinching gaze on you.

You can't help but laugh. "You've got a great poker face, Barnes, I'll have to take you gambling in Madripoor, you'll make us rich."

"I'll pass." He says, crumpling his Coke can in his bionic hand.

You turn your attention to the TV - some garish game show - and feel his eyes still on you. The ache is getting worse, now you're positively throbbing with need. What the hell, you're going to Madripoor in the morning, who knows when you'll see him again? You may as well shoot your shot.

"Sharon thinks there's tension between us." You murmur casually, glancing at him.

"I won't argue with that."

"Sexual tension."

"Oh." He mutters. "You believe everything Sharon tells you?"

"She's mostly right about things."

Not entirely true. Sharon's exact words were, "If you and Barnes don't stop eye fucking each other I'm going to puke." Then she muttered something about 'steering clear of super soldiers'.

"Maybe we should do something about it, get it out of the way." You say, feeling yourself flush and keeping your eyes on the screen.

"That's not a good idea." He replies, but the tone of his voice sounds different, husky almost. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift on the bed.

"I've got a proposition for you." You say, finally, turning to him.

Bucky clears his throat. "If it's an investment opportunity I'm not interested."

"It's not financial, it's physical."

He sighs and looks at you.

"So, what if we kiss." You say, as lightly as you can manage.

"No." He says, flatly.

"Wait, I haven't finished. If we kiss and it's awful, then we forget about it and don't mention it ever again."

"I like the sound of that." He murmurs.

"If it's not awful well, we've got a motel room and a night to figure it out." You say softly, biting your lip.

The pause before he answers is far too long, and you're so embarrased you actually contemplate making a break for it.

"If I say yes will it shut you up?"

You laugh, relieved. "Yes, it will literally shut me up."

Bucky gets up off his bed slowly. "I'm going to regret this, I can tell."

"And I'm going into hiding, for who knows how long. It's the least you can do, Barnes." You say, your heart hammering with anticipation.

Bucky sits next to you, and your mouth starts to water just from his proximity.

"How do-"

You don't let him finish, leaning over and grabbing his jacket, pressing yourself against him and capturing his mouth with yours. It's even better than you imagined; he's slow and gentle but firm, bringing his hand up to grip the nape of your neck, a soft growl escaping from the back of his throat.

You pull away, flustered. Bucky's eyes are wide, staring at you.

You gulp. "Awful, right?"

"Just terrible." He murmurs, his hand tightening on the back of your neck.

"I guess that's it then." You shrug, looking at him through lowered lashes.

"That's it." He kisses you again, and this time it's all consuming. His lips are so soft but insistent and he licks into your mouth, making you groan into his.

You just want to climb onto him, anything to relieve the desperate ache. Bucky pulls you onto his lap with a grunt and you straddle him, your kisses growing deeper. He's so solid underneath you and you rub yourself against him, feeling the bulge grow in his jeans.

"Fuck, you're needy aren't you?" He chuckles lowly, kissing your neck.

You make a noise of agreement, slipping his jacket off his broad shoulders.

Bucky unbuttons your pants, and slides his hand into your panties.

"Is this ok?" He asks softly.

"It's all ok." You tell him and gasp as you feel his fingers opening you up, your hips jerking in response when he finds your clit. He tongues your mouth again as he plays with your pussy, slipping two fingers inside you.

You moan his name as you fuck his hand, rubbing him through his jeans and feeling the flicker of heat blooming at your core. Suddenly Bucky withdraws his hand and you stare at him as he gets up of the bed.

"Get undressed." He swallows, pulling his t-shirt off.

Quickly you strip down to your underwear and sit back on the bed, Bucky stands before you naked, beautiful, his arm gleaming in the lamplight. You can't hide your alarm when you notice he's got the cuffs in his hand again.

"What are those for?" You gulp, eyes wide.

"For when I fuck you." He says thickly. "If it's ok?"

You nod eagerly, pleasantly surprised. It was a first for you but you trusted him and well, now was a good a time as any.

Bucky gets on the bed and reaches for you, pulling you close and kissing you roughly, his hand grabbing a fistful of hair, his dog tags clinking against your chest.

"How come you still wear these?" You ask, running your fingers over the metal.

"Don't worry about it." He murmurs.

Then there was no more talking.

* * * * *

The next morning you wake up, nestled into Bucky's back and feeling sore. Your pussy and your wrists had taken a pummeling the previous night, he had fucked you every way he wanted to and you had lost count of your orgasms. Quite a going away present before you were shipped away to Madripoor. You were contemplating waking Bucky to go another round when his phone vibrates on the bedside cabinet. Already awake, he reaches for it.

"Morning Sharon." He intones. "Yeah, I guessed that. No, she was fine, I made sure that she behaved. Right, ok. See you then."

You groan. "Great."

He turns over. "She just landed."

"But we have time, right?"

Bucky laughs, and gives you a genuine smile. "Time for what?"

Sitting up, you nod towards the bathroom and then touch his bionic arm. "Is this thing waterproof?"

[limetameta]

will you write Monty [T. Goldsmith, not Fleamont] and Hermione, not as a ship, just interacting for...🦩🪰🥙?

HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN IN HERE ???

(depending on where you're at in retired prometheus this can be seen as a bout of foreshadowing)

Montgomery T. Goldsmith knew very few ways of bonding with people. Tom Riddle knew even less. Voldemort didn't know any at all. So it stood as fact, then, that Montgomery Goldsmith was in a bit of a conundrum as how to bond with Hermione J. Granger (his pupil, his student, his protege). He pressed his fingers together in deep contemplation and looked at Hermione minding her own business, not at all aware of what sort of despicable plot he was going to involve her in. Ignorance was bliss, surely, but neither Montgomery nor Hermione were the type to enjoy it.

So he took one of Tom Riddle's go-to bonding activities and blurted out one day over breakfast: ''Do you wish to see a really neat bird?''

It did wonders on Abraxas Malfoy.

Surely his one-hit-wonder of a socializing ice-breaker would do wonders on Hermione Granger.

''What kind of bird?'' Hermione's interest was piqued.

Montgomery smiled with both his mouth and eyes. ''A flamingo.''

********************************* There they were: many flamingos.

Hermione had packed sandwiches for their flamingo sighting event. When they weren't battling flies for their sandwiches, they were talking about inane birds they'd seen.

''I signed up for an owl class one summer.''

''Really?''

''Yes, it was very odd.''

''How so?''

''Well, in order to pass my owl class I had to be chucked into this deep dark wood and talk to them, listen to them, and then mark on a parchment roll what kind of owl I'd found.''

''Is the Avery family at all associated with this course?''

''Yes, I think so. Some Zephyr Avery founded the United Kingdom Owl Association.''

''Jr or Sr?''

''Does it matter?''

''It sounds just insane enough to be the plot of Senior, but also stupid enough to be Junior.''

''Do you know them personally?'' Hermione asked. Which was a logical thing to do, really, when brought to such odd information from a supposed American mentor.

''No,'' the American person said, ''I have never met them.'' It was the summer heat that he blamed his sweating on, and not the fact that his sharp mind wasn't what it once was and that he was being absolutely careless with this whole undercover identity. ''I only read about them in the newspaper.''

''That's cool.'' Hermione said. Then she took a bite out of her sandwich. They were sitting on some blanket out in a field, underneath a lonely tree. ''Do you want to go to the beach after we eat?''

''I suppose, yeah.''

''The beach is very long.''

''Ah, yeah, thirteen kilometres I think.''

The awkwardness continued. Who knew when one didn't talk about academics and potions one could find themselves in such a painfully boring predicament.

''Do you like cats?'' Hermione asked him.

Montgomery latched onto that question like a lifeline thrown at high sea. ''Yes. Tell me everything about your cat.''

Somehow they reached the topic of Abraxas Malfoy. ''I think he's got an addiction.''

Voldemort was going to have a bloody fit, thank you very much. Did people not learn from their mistakes at all? Was he going to go ahead and kill Dumbledore while high on a power beyond his control this time around? ''What kind of addiction?''

''He has 125 peafowls.'' Hermione whispered, horrified. She frowned when her mentor began laughing at her.

''Ah.'' Montgomery Goldsmith nodded, a bit too relieved for a man who claimed he didn't even know how Abraxas Malfoy looked like. ''That kind of addiction.''

''Do people in America have such addictions often?'' Hermione blinked her confusion away. ''I'd personally think that was insane. Who wants to have so many birds?''

''Rich people.'' Montgomery went for a sandwich bite.

Hermione nodded. ''He'd vote for Thatcher, I bet.''

Tom Riddle choked on his own sandwich bite. He felt the pršuta suffocating the shit out of him by getting stuck in his throat.

''Sir?'' Hermione fretted, taking out her wand and aiming at him. ''Sir, I'll help - don't struggle!''

Once the pršuta debacle had ceased and Montgomery knew he'd live another day, he asked Hermione if she'd ever seen a peafowl eat. ''They are omnivores.''

''You say that so ominously.'' Hermione said, shaking her head. ''It's as if you're warning me they'll eat me.''

''If everything you've told me about Abraxas Malfoy is true...'' Montgomery warned, ''Then I would not put it past the man to train his 125 peafowls to attack human beings on command. And eat them. Subsequently getting rid of all evidence. And traces of magical residue.''

''What a morbid man you are.''

''I suppose being from Texas does that to a man.''

[blue-fidelity]

~ “Smile in the face of Tragedy”

Chapter 2: New King

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Henderson!reader, Steve Harrington x best friend! reader

Chapter Summary:

A wild night reveals secrets and broken hearts. At least Billy & (Y/N) have each other.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drunk!Billy, sad!Steve (that is a warning 🥺)

“(Y/N)! It’s Halloween!”- Halloween? (Y/N) woke up to the sound of her brother yelling excitingly. If she wasn’t mistaken, she could hear the Ghostbusters theme playing loudly from Dustin’s room. She groaned, burying her head in her pillows while running her hands through her hair.

This is not how she planned to wake up this morning.

Before closing her eyes to regain a little more sleep, her alarm clock looked her right in the face. 7:15. Another groan came from her. Perk up (Y/N), it’s your favourite holiday! She pushed herself up, swinging her legs on the side of the bed. (Y/N) definitely knew the high school students weren’t going to be wearing costumes to school. So before Billy picked her up, she’d head home to get changed.

Billy- (Y/N) didn’t think she’d be able to forget yesterday. The way he held her, the way he kissed her forehead. His embrace was so comforting- she nearly melted into him. The smell of dry cigarette smoke and cheap cologne haven’t been able to leave her senses. It was like everything that came with him, it was intoxicating, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

As she stepped out of bed, she moved her hips slightly to the music coming from her brother’s stereo. When she made it to her drawers, she contemplated what she should wear today. Just because she wasn’t going to wear a costume, didn’t mean she couldn’t look spooky, right? She grabbed her “Chistine” t-shirt, it was one of her favorite horror movies. Pairing it with a black acid wash skirt, some fishnets, and her usual chuck taylors, she strutted confidently out her bedroom door.

She walked into the bathroom to find Dustin clad in his Stantz costume, brushing his teeth. He looked so cute! “Hey Doctor Stantz, ‘lookin pretty badass”, she grinned, patting him on the back. “Thanks (Y/N)! I can’t wait to see the guys in their costumes, Halloween’s gonna be so great!”, he cheered, spitting out his tooth paste. He quickly ran out of the room to fetch breakfast, leaving (Y/N) time for her hair & makeup.

Bright red lipstick and heavy black eyeliner, hair slightly curled.

-

When she stepped into the living room, she saw her mom enthusiastically taking polaroids of Dustin. She couldn’t help but smile, hoping her mom would save her some for her picture board. (Y/N) sat on the couch beside her cat Mews, scratching the back of his ears as he purred in contentment. She giggled at the various poses her brother made in front of the camera.

Her mom had finally stopped taking photos, noticing her on the couch. “(Y/N) darling! I didn’t see you come in, can I get a photo of my two children?”, she questioned, looking at her with pleading eyes. (Y/N) couldn’t say no! “Of course!”, she said, standing up from the couch.

She placed an arm around Dustin’s shoulders, teasingly taking him in a headlock, rubbing her nuckles on his hair. To this he laughed, playfully pointing his fake proton blaster at her. It was the perfect picture. Perfectly trapped in the moment of two great siblings, simply having a good time.

(Y/N) gathered her things, making sure to take one of her mom’s homemade muffins for breakfast. She had made them a couple days before, but they still were delicious. Even though (Y/N) desperately needed coffee, she decided against it. She was already running a bit late, and as much as she hated the stale stuff from the cafeteria, it’d have to do. Dustin had already slipped out the door to head off on his bike, he really must’ve been eager to see his friends.

Before making her way to her motorcycle, she slipped her jean jacket on and hugged her mom goodbye. Claudia looked at her intently, ruffling her curled hair. (Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully, “Alright mom, I gotta go! ‘I’m gonna stop here after school though, k?”, she opened the front door. “Okay have a good day sweetie! ‘I’ll see you before your party!”. (Y/N)’s mom knew about the party, whether she knew there was going to be alcohol involved, it was better off not knowing.

Sliding the keys into the ignition, she sped off to the school. She could never get enough of the mysterious backroads of Hawkins. It scared her, obviously. With all the things that happened the previous year, she couldn't help but wonder if things still lurked in the depths of the forest, hiding till they could strike. Waiting and waiting till they can catch someone else and drag them to that horrible place. Her body trembled at the thought of it. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the memories. Eyes turning back to the road, she removed one of her hands from the handles, trying to reach for the button of her stereo. It had turned onto some random radio station that was playing Halloween tunes.

“Happy Halloween ‘Morning Ghouls and Goblins of Hawkins! Here’s a spooky throwback from ‘1982 for y’all on this fine dreary morning, ‘Blood Bitch’, by Cocteau Twins!” - the radio host introduced, was he really supposed to swear on radio? Well, no one really had a filter these days.

The song added to the eerie atmosphere of the cold morning, making her uneasy. She pushed through her thoughts, trying to just focus on getting to school. It was Halloween! No need for being pent up on past trauma. The station had eventually turned to a happier song, putting her in a better mood. What better to put a smile on your face then the ‘Time Warp” from The Rocky Horror Picture Show? She bobbed her head happily to the familiar tune, singing along to the lyrics.

-

School today had been an absolute drag! Last period (math) was nearly done and (Y/N) was desperate to get out. She could see some of her mutuals were anxious as well, probably too excited to wait for the party tonight. She was excited as well, maybe a little bit of the fact that she’d be spending more time with Billy?

(Y/N) would hate for him to think she’d be using him as a rebound. Even though it seemed that way, she really should’ve forgotten about her feelings for Steve awhile ago. (Y/N) really loved Steve, but he’d always been so oblivious, but- that was just Steve. He would’ve never known of her feelings if she didn’t tell him. Which she never did, in fear of obvious rejection. Then here was Billy Hargrove, whether it be his flirtatious nature, she could see herself really falling for him. The one thing she knew she wouldn’t do was dive in too quickly. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes, for her and for Billy’s sake.

She was finally released from the rechedouness that was her math class-running straight out the door right as the bell rang, nearly having winded Mr. Henry. After taking a quick stop at her locker, she walked outside to find her motorcycle. (Y/N) was nearly there till a skateboard hit her feet, stopping her in her tracks.

“I’m so sorry! It slipped right out from under me-” a voice of a young girl called, her breath shaky. (Y/N) looked down at the girl shuffling to grab her skateboard, she had never seen her before. The mysterious teen with the red hair looked around her brother’s age, so why was she so unrecognizable? Wait- could it be?

Billy’s step sister.

“Hey, hey it’s all good!”, (Y/N) gave her a reassuring smile. “Hey- not to sound weird or anything-”, she chuckled nervously, “But, are you new here? ‘You see I got a younger brother ‘about your age, and you got an unfamiliar face”. The girl stared at her skeptically, but still replied. “Yeah, just moved here from ‘California, what are you ‘looking to set him up or something?” she questioned sarcastically. ‘Damn she was quite the firecracker. “Nah frankly I think you're a little out of his league”, (Y/N) winked. To this she got a laugh out of her. “Well, it was nice weirdly meeting you, ‘I’m Max!”, she introduced herself. “Well Max, ‘I’m (Y/N), if you're interested in someone helping you out with that kickflip, ‘I used to do some skateboarding myself”, she offered. Max beamed at her offer, “Really? That’d be so great!”, “Alrighty then, if you see me around, don’t be shy to ask!”.

Little did (Y/N) and Max know, Billy was watching them. Billy knew (Y/N) was genuinely kind, but not that kind. It wasn’t necessarily cool to be seen with a middle schooler. He figured he wouldn’t look too much into it, but something about seeing (Y/N) with her, didn’t sit well with him. Billy gave Max a dirty look as she skated up to the camaro. “You're late again”, Billy started. “I had to get catchup homework”, Max stated. “Jesus! I don’t care- who was that girl you were talking to?”, Billy asked, even though he already knew who she was. “Just some high schooler- she offered to help me learn some skateboarding tricks' '. So she skateboarded too, huh? “That’s rich. Just, get in the car, will yah?”.

-

(Y/N) entered the door with a ‘skip in her step. She really needed a reason to lose herself, forget about the world around her. Tonight was going to be perfect for that. Expecting to be greeted by her mom, she noticed no one was there. She knew Dustin was heading to Mike’s right after school, ‘but her mom was nowhere to be seen. She probably had to work later hours again. ‘This meant she had the place to herself! (Y/N) still had a few hours before Billy picked her up. So she figured she’d get into her costume, and then fix herself something to eat.

The Sarah Connor costume was simple. Gray tank top, black jeans, sunglasses, a chunky belt and combat boots. (Y/N) already had all of this in her regular wardrobe, so it’d be a pretty easy costume. Of course she didn’t have a rifle to complete it, even though she could’ve asked Nance. She wasn’t about to show up to a house party with a gun. It would have been pretty cool though.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, clad in costume. Now it was time to remove her makeup and untame her curled hair. “Mr. Crowley” by Ozzy Osbourne was currently spinning on her “Blizzard of Ozz” vinyl. She mouthed her lips to the lyrics as she straightened her hair, her (Y/H/C) locks falling in straight whisps on her head. Replacing her once extravagant makeup with a more nude look, she looked at herself pleased.

A total badass look, you might say.

It was only 4:30, and Billy was coming over at 6 o’clock. She had way too much time to kill. Making her way to the kitchen, she scoped the fridge. Enough ground beef for two burgers, and she knew they had leftover buns. Maybe Billy would be hungry when he got there, and if she was making dinner for two- she didn’t want to start too early. So she’d head back to it in about a half an hour. Meanwhile a coca-cola would hold her down, she was pretty firsty.

(Y/N) now laid in her bed, bored. ‘Blizzard of Ozz was still playing, it just switched onto “Steal Away (The Night)”, her ears perked up to the upbeat tune. She couldn’t help but dance around, hopping happily on her bed as she belted the lyrics along with Ozzy. Pointing at the poster of him that was plastered on her wall, she shouted the chorus. It’d be pretty funny if Billy were to walk in on her singing her heart out, what would he think of that? She rolled her eyes at the thought, he’d probably think she was crazy. The song ended, turning to the next one. (Y/N) took this as her cue to start on dinner.

Flipping the patties in the pan, she sighed at the smell. She did cook a pretty ‘mean burger. Dustin loved when she made them, he always said the added rosemary was the perfect touch. (Y/N) grew up with her mother teaching her how to cook. Claudia Henderson had worked in a number of restaurants, usually in the kitchen or as a waitress. She now helped run a popular Inn a little outside of town, and it was her favourite place she’s ever worked in. (Y/N) probably figured it was a busy night, considering she didn’t come home at her usual hour.

5:45 and the burgers were ready and plated, the aroma running through the room. Billy was ‘going to be here soon, and she was giddy with excitement. Before she knew it, the bell rang. Fuck he was early. “Coming!” she called, slowly making her way to the door. ‘There he stood; a cocky grin on his face with his arm propped up on the door ledge. She took time to take in his minimal outfit, tight jeans & a leather jacket, no shirt. His abbs were on full display- (Y/N)’s mouth watered just at the sight of him. “See something you like, sweetheart?” he smirked. “Maybe-”, (Y/N) stammered. “It’s aight, I see something I like to,'' he whispered the last part into her ear, letting himself in.

“She cooks too? ‘I guess looks can be deceiving”, he motioned to the burgers. (Y/N) blushed, “I figured we could eat before we fill ourselves with alcohol”. They delved into the burgers, she couldn’t help but laugh when Billy moaned at the taste. “Darlin- I haven’t had a burger like this in awhile, ‘the ones down at Benny’s don’t hold anything on these”, he praised. “That must be a high compliment, because ‘Benny’s are pretty good”, she smiled at him. (Y/N) put the dishes into the dishwasher, quickly running to her room to grab her polaroid camera. “Where are you ‘heading princess?”, she’d never get tired of his little pet names. “I’m just grabbing my camera- I want to get some good shots tonight!”.

(Y/N) came back with her camera bag, a big grin on her face. “You ready to head out?”, he questioned. “Yeah, just let me get my jacket”, she took her jacket from the hook. “Ready”. He guided her to the camaro, opening the passenger door. Billy never opened the passenger door for girls! ‘(Y/N) really did something to him, huh? “Such the gentlemen”, she smirked. “Anything for you dollface”. He slid into the drivers side, placing his keys into the ignition. “Music?” she questioned, “Sure thing, feel free to look through the cassettes in the glove box”. She searched through the assortment of tapes, varying from Metallica, Def Leppard, RATT, Mötley Crüe, Hanoi Rocks, AC/DC and more. She settled on Hanoi Rocks’s, “Two Steps From The Move” album. It had just come out that summer, and it was one of her favourites. Not to mention she had a HUGE crush on Michael Monroe.

“Hanoi Rocks huh? I like your style”, he nodded in approval, till turning his eyes back on the road. “Got any specific fave tracks?”, (Y/N) questioned. “Track 8”. She was surprised he chose this one, considering it was one of the more “cheesy” songs. ‘It did have a pretty ‘rockin guitar riff in it though, she’ll give him that. Billy contentedly thumped his hands on the steering wheel, speeding up a bit. Rolling both of their windows down, (Y/N) was surprised to see him singing along to the lyrics. It was a bad attempt at a Finnish accent, sure, but it was still really cute. (Y/N) joined him, jumping in at the chorus. They banged their heads to the tune, continuously singing the lines. (Y/N) really felt alive in that moment. ‘She couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun, and they haven’t even gotten to the party yet.

-

They pulled up to Tina’s, teens were already rallying in. ‘It was going to be a wild night. Before Billy could open up his trunk to get the kegs, (Y/N) stopped him. She pulled out her camera, “Hargrove! Smile!”, she grinned, pointing the camera at him. ‘He rolled his eyes, posing for the picture. The photo was of Billy playfully doing the devil’s horns symbol, with his tongue stuck out. She giggled, “This is one for the board!”. “Well Hey Sarrah Conner- let me take a pic of you!”, he said, trying to grab the camera from her. She handed the camera to him, smiling that he remembered her costume name. Letting her sunglasses shade her eyes, ‘she smirked brightly at the camera, ‘Billy quickly snapping the shot. He handed the polaroid to her, she shaked it and placed it in her bag with the one she took.

Billy held one of the kegs while (Y/N) grabbed the other, walking into the crowded house. It was overwhelmingly loud. They could feel the heat coming off the numerous teenagers that littered the home, their bodies moving to the heavy beats of the stereo. Tina was in the kitchen, and had noticed the pair walk in. “Billy & (Y/N) are here with more kegs!”, she shouted, ‘causing the crowd to go wild. Someone had taken the one from her hands and motioned Billy to follow them into the backyard, leaving her alone. She grazed over the sea of teens, trying to spot anyone she knew. She noticed Steve and Nancy dancing freely in the living room, Nancy nursing a drink while Steve had a big smile on his face. She figured she’d grab some punch and then see what Billy was doing in the backyard, most likely a keg stand. He was the new ‘king after all, Tommy was probably expecting him to beat Steve’s record.

‘As luck would have it, she was right. She stood on the back porch with a cup of “pure fuel” in her hands, watching the teens crowd around him as he bent over the keg. They shouted various numbers, counting the seconds as he chugged down the beer. (Y/N) cheered with them, looking at him with bright eyes. His torso was glistening, beads of sweat running down his toned chest. Her cheeks flushed red just at the sight of him. The enthusiasm got louder as he finished the stand, spitting spews of beer out of his mouth. “That’s how you do it Hawkins! That’s how you do it!”, more cheers. Tommy passed him a cigarette and escorted him into the house, the gang shouting his name as Mötley Crüe’s, “Shout At The Devil” played on the speakers. Billy spotted her on the porch, grinning wildly at her. He shoved her into his side with his arm, hugging her tight. Tommy glared at the interaction. Never in her time with being friends with Steve has ‘Tommy liked her that much, and it seems things haven’t changed.

Typical Tommy.

(Y/N) was enjoying the feel of Billy's embrace a little too much. She knew he was already partially drunk, and she was feeling a nice buzz that she wasn’t planning on getting rid of anytime soon. Someone had to drive them home. ‘Tommy paraded them up to Nancy and Steve, (Y/N) wasn’t sure if it was to torchure her or show off Billy, probably both. ‘Billy and Steve stared each other down as if they were going to kill each other, it was really intense. Too intense for her liking. Still hooded under Billy’s arm, she shot Steve a sympathetic look. ‘As if to say ‘I’m sorry’ with her eyes. “We got ourselves a new keg king Harrington!”, Tommy declared. “Yeah eat it Harrington!”, another guy shouted. Somehow in ‘Billy and Steve’s stare down, Nancy had slipped away.

“You see Harrington- not only that, but I stole your girl away too”, Billy retorted. Oh shit- this wasn’t good. Steve glanced over at her, a nervous look in his eyes. “I don’t know what you're talking about man-”. How did Billy know about (Y/N)’s past feelings for Steve? “Well you see, this lovely lady under my arms thought the world of you, and frankly I- I just don’t see why! Point being, she has me now, you can go fetch that slut you settled for.” This interaction was making neither Steve nor (Y/N) happy, it left them feeling both angry and confused. Steve scoffed, chasing after Nancy. He was going to want to talk to (Y/N) about this later.

Steve really didn’t know what to make of what Billy had said to him. Mainly, it sounded like a warning; but he didn’t think Billy intended for it to be that. (Y/N) and him had been best friends forever, and even if he didn’t necessarily like Billy, there was no harm in her being friends with him, right? Though, something about what Billy said hinted that he meant more than just friends. Had (Y/N) liked him, loved him even? Was Steve really oblivious all these years- no, it couldn’t be. If he was being honest, he harboured a small crush on her in the beginning of middle school, but then Nancy came into his life. Nancy Wheeler hit him like a freight train right in the heart, and he then became a lovesick puppy. He couldn’t get enough of her. That’s when Steve began to realize, the jealous glances over the years, the slight distaste of Nancy that came off her.

But, why did it matter if (Y/N) loved him? He still had Nancy, or so he thought.

-

Tommy had left, leaving Billy and (Y/N) in the corner of the living room, an uncomfortable silence stirring between them. “Billy-how did you-“, she wondered in a whisper, but Billy cut her off. “You really don’t think Tommy would’ve told me? Besides, everybody knows”. She didn’t need to hear the last part. Besides, why did it matter if everyone knew- it didn’t matter to her anymore. “Does that bother you?”, she asked worriedly. Billy chuckled darkly.

“Darlin- you got nothing to worry about, I’m your new king now”.

Next thing she knew, they were on the dance floor. Billy had pulled her into the crowd of sweaty bodies, grinding on each other. Some people were making out, others chugging alcohol till they fell limp to the floor. She stared nervously at the rowdy teens, her body shaking. He noticed her agitation, placing a hand on her cheek, turning her to face him. He smelt of cheap beer and stale cigarette smoke, and a hint of cologne. She was caught with that intoxicating sensation again, making her hazy. His icy blue eyes peered into her (Y/E/C) ones, “Just feel the music princess- everything will be just fine”.

‘Their bodies moved comfortably against each other to ‘Billy Idol’s, “Flesh For Fantasy”. A perfect song choice in the moment. ‘(Y/N) was very much sober and very much aware of what was happening. Aware of Billy’s strong grip on her waist, aware of his hips moving against hers. Normally this would’ve been cutting close corners for her, but she was looking for an opportunity to lose herself. What better way than this? She ran her fingers through his thick blonde curls, her hips swaying a bit more. He sighed in contentment, making her shiver. His face was currently buried into her neck, placing soft kisses on her collarbone.

They continued their heavy sway for a while, Billy had started to form a hickey below her ear. She was definitely not going to be able to cover it up tomorrow, but she really didn’t care if people saw it- she wanted people to know that she wasn’t desperate. That she didn’t need Steve anymore. She wasn’t exactly sure what she meant to ‘Hargrove, but she knew that she wasn’t planning on leaving him anytime soon. (Y/N) felt him remove his lips from her neck, his hot breath waving over her. “Mhmm- left a pretty big mark sweetheart-“ he mumbled. She hummed in return, removing her hands from his hair.

The rest of the night consisted of more dancing, and Billy getting more intoxicated than he was before. Really drunk Billy- let’s just say it was quite the sight to see. He was a giggling mess, slurring his words and stumbling on his feet. “(Y/N)- has anyone ever told you-“ he hiccuped, “That you were gorgeous?”, another hiccup. She giggled at his comment, “Tons of people- but I bet no one sees me like you do huh?”, she supported him up against the kitchen counter. “Absolutely no one!” He cheered in a high pitch voice, damn he really was a mess. She tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders snatching his keys.”Hey- what are you doing?”, he gestured to the keys, “Getting you home-“, “Wait! Can we go to your house please?? I can’t wake up my dad letting him see me like this- he’ll kill me”, he pleaded. “Fine- just, try to be as quiet as possible, I got a sleeping family too”.

(Y/N) took him out of the house, nearly carrying him. She waved goodbye to a few mutual friends who were still conscious, muttering a soft “See y’all tomorrow, hope we aren’t all hungover”. This earned a few laughs from her classmates, bidding her and Billy a goodnight. Unlocking the passenger side to the camaro, she set Billy down lightly on the seat. “Being so ginger with me sweetheart- I’m not made of glass ‘you know”, he joked. “Whatever tough guy- let’s just get you to a bed, mhm?”. Placing her hands on the steering wheel, she realized she hasn’t driven a car since the summer, and a camaro is definitely nothing close to a station wagon. She took a deep breath- she could do this, no sweat. Besides, there was no way she could bring herself to ruin a car as beautiful as this one.

Billy must’ve passed out while they were driving, because when she pulled into her driveway, his eyes were sewn shut. She had to admit- he did look pretty adorable when he was sleeping. She tried to resist the urge to take a photo of him, but she couldn’t help herself. Pulling out her camera bag that was littered with pictures from tonight, she snapped a quick photo of him. The flash startled him, waking him up. “Sweetheart- were you taking photos of me in my sleep? That’s just creepy”, his voice was groggy. “How could I not when you were laying there looking like an angel?”, “Pfft- ‘darlin, I am a demon, Satan himself! ‘Ain’t no way I’m an angel!”, he scoffed.

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but Lucifer was once an angel”.

Fumbling with the keys to her front door while trying to help Billy regain his footing was hard. He was just about to lose consciousness again when she finally got the door open, it shouldn't have been as much of a challenge as it was- but Billy had a lot of weight to him. She didn’t notice the lights were still on till she saw her mom sitting in her reading chair, Mews on her lap and clad in a cat costume. Shit- what was she gonna say about this? “Oh! Mrs. Henderson- I see where (Y/N) gets all her good looks from!”, Billy squealed, “Ugh can it Billy! Mom I can explain-“ she shushed Billy, staring wide eyed at her mother. “Sweetie- you clearly had a wild night, just take this pound of muscle to your room, and we can talk about it while he crashes, okay?”- (Y/N) nodded quickly, dragging Billy to her room.

Billy flopped down on the bed, giggling wildly. “Honey! We’ve known each other for two days, don’t you think we ‘oughta know one another better before I sleep in your bed?”, (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the blubbering idiot. “This was your idea dumby! Just get under the covers and keep it shut, will you?”, she glared at him, closing the door and heading back to the living room.

“So no Steve, huh? He’s the one who usually spends the night”, her mom said softly. “Different reasons mom- I’m just trying to figure out who’s a bigger piece of work”, she huffed. “Well he’s quite the looker, ‘makes me wonder how you keep up with him”, Claudia smirked. “Mom! He’s new here- he just happened to notice me first”, (Y/N) blushed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Besides- what are you doing up so late?”, (Y/N) stared at the clock, “It’s nearly 1 o’clock”. “Busy night down at the Inn, just needed a little time to myself after Dusty went to bed”, she sighed, but (Y/N) knew she wasn’t finished. “Also wanted to see what mess you brung home, it’s always a new thing with you”, her mom laughed. “Billy’s- interesting, but I’m not sure, doesn’t seem like the most faithful type”, she sighed. “He may surprise you, and besides- if he hurts you he’ll have to suffer the wrath of your brother!”, Claudia giggled, smiling at her daughter. “Anyways- I’m gonna head to bed, early day at work tomorrow, you gonna go join the guy?”, she pointed down the hall. “Yeah yeah I’ll join the idiot in a second- just gonna get some water”, (Y/N) said tiredly.

Snuggling up on the couch, she sipped her water. The quietness was calming, the fact that everyone was at rest and she was the only one around southend her in a way. The fact that Billy was sleeping soundly in her bed, gave her a different feeling. Things with him- had gone by so quickly, and it was only just beginning. It was nice being with someone where the relationship had lasted longer than more than a few hours. Her past flames- had simply been one night stands, meaningless things to shy her away from Steve, but Billy was different. She actually liked him, and even though he came off as a jerk- he seemed really sweet on the inside. Though, she couldn’t help but wonder how Steve was feeling right now, the bomb had been dropped on him nearly two hours ago- it must be overwhelming to know your best friend was holding back feelings for so many years.

(Y/N) was just about to head to bed, till she heard a knock on the door. Who was here at this time of night? She opened the door slightly, and who she saw she didn’t expect. There Steve stood, his face red and puffy with tears in his eyes. His body was shaking, his shoulders were slumped over. He looked awful. “She- doesn’t love me- it’s bullshit! It was all bullshit!” He stuttered as his body continued to quiver. (Y/N)’s heart ached at his words, what had Nancy done this time? She didn’t know what to say, it’s not like she could’ve let him in. So, she just pulled him into a hug, “Steve-you can’t keep coming here like this- it’s not my job to fix you”, she tried to explain. “I know! I just don’t have anywhere else to go”, he cried. “I can’t tonight- it just isn’t the right time.” (Y/N) was attempting to tell him in the best way possible that Billy wasn’t there, but Steve caught on. “He’s here, isn’t he, Billy?”, Steve muttered angrily. “Out of all the guys in Hawkins- you chose him to get over me, that’s just flattering!” . Steve was making her feel sick, “Steve- I know you're hurting but you can’t take it out on me like that- it isn’t fair”, she pushed away from him. “I’ll talk about this with you tomorrow- when you're in the right state of mind, okay? Just please leave”, she pleaded. “Fine- I’ll see you tomorrow”, he breathed out harshly, walking back to his car.

She was on the edge of a breakdown, heart racing and choked up tears running down her face. This is not how she expected her evening to end- seeing Steve like that, broken and beaten again. (Y/N) thought she’d never live to see Steve crumble in her arms one more time- and with that she could’ve rested easy. At least she wouldn’t have to be alone tonight, she had someone waiting for her. Trying to stay quiet, she tiptoed down the hall. Opening the door, she walked in to see Billy sleeping soundly, the pink hue of her bedside lamp illuminating his features. She took notice of his leather jacket, jeans and boots scattered on the ground. That meant he was only in his boxers. Before joining him she slipped into an oversized AC/DC t-shirt and looked in the mirror, her hands grazing over the purple mark that had formed on her neck- the little bastard.

When (Y/N) laid in bed, even in his sleepy state Billy could notice the slight dip in the mattress. He groaned, “What took you so long…?”. (Y/N) chuckled softly at his tiredness. “Just an unexpected visitor, nothing to worry about”, she smiled reassuringly. “Well as long as you're okay, that’s all that matters”, he kissed her temple, pulling her into his chest. She snuggled into his side, sighing contentedly. She needed this. “Thank you”, she mumbled mindlessly. “For what sweetheart?”.

“For helping me start fresh”.

The couple held each other comfortably, sleep taking over them. (Y/N) rested her head on Billy’s torso, as he lazily made circles on the small of her back. Everything was blissful in that moment. Perfect. She’d deal with Steve tomorrow, for now, she had Billy Hargrove. Billy Hargrove with his strong hold and warm comforting body, Billy Hargrove who made her feel safe.

Author’s note:

Hope you all love the second chapter! Feedback is always appreciated & as always if you want to be added to the taglist comment down below ❤️!

Tag-list: @theblueslytherin @oopsiedoopsie23 @lulu-yuming @merc12-us @soullesstaco @unded-bride @holychocopie @nikkixostan @ellesimagines

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Remedy (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Rookie has really terrible coping mechanisms. Drug use, alcohol, swearing, derogatory language, smoking, mentions of murder(?)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry for the delay lads, for some reason this chapter did not want to be written! As always don’t sleep with your boss and don’t do drugs unless their prescription :P

<-- Previous Chapter  // Masterlist //  Next Chapter -->

-- 

You were exhausted. You hadn’t slept for more than an hour after leaving Javier’s apartment. Not for lack of trying, you thought your previous activities would have worn you out. But no. You were too scared to sleep, not wanting to deal with any nightmares that might occur so you sat on your dusty old couch, drank a vat of coffee and waited until the rest of the city woke up. 

You cursed under your breath when you saw Steve’s truck had already gone by the time you got downstairs. It was Connie’s volunteering day at the hospital, he always took her early. You had to go with Javi. You sat on the wall outside the apartment, smoking a cigarette and waiting for Javier to come outside. You had no idea what you were supposed to say to him, how were you supposed to act. You couldn’t really pretend like nothing had happened, sleeping with him like that was not something you could brush under the rug. But you didn’t want to talk to him about it, that would make it real. A real action with real consequences. If anyone found out that would be the end of your time here, and quite possibly the end of your time in the DEA entirely. 

Eventually Javier came outside, spotted you on the wall and waved. You got up, chucked the packet of cigarettes in your hand to him before you stubbed out your own and got into the truck. 

“So, do you want to talk about last night?” He asked as he lit a new cigarette.

“Not particularly. There isn’t really much to say is there?” 

“Not really,” He shrugged, “You’re not in love with me now, right?” 

“In your fucking dreams Peña. You weren’t that good,” You laughed at his audacity. You were lying, he was very good at it. But you weren’t in love with him. No, you couldn’t allow yourself even if you were. 

“You bitch,” He tried to be serious but your laugh was contagious. 

Javi immediately felt relieved, he’d spent all night worrying about you. He really didn’t want the sex to ruin everything you had going as a team. He was a little scared he had scared you off entirely but now you were laughing in his passenger seat as if nothing had ever happened all his worries were laid to rest. 

“It happened and that’s it. We don’t need to make it a thing,” You said.

“Agreed,” 

“Awesome, let’s go to work then,” 

And just like that, it was like nothing had ever happened. Back to piles of paperwork, chasing up lazy cops for their reports and trying desperately to avoid Carrillo. It was going to take time to get over what you had seen him do. You didn’t want to see him, let alone be left alone with him. You’d pushed all responsibility for anything related to him onto Javier, who in return passed you more of his paperwork. It was a fair trade off. 

At your desk, hummin away to yourself you could almost convince yourself you were fine. Thanks to the never ending cup of coffee and the sugar doughnuts you found for lunch, your energy levels were back up high. All reminders of the night before were out of sight and you were so consumed in work you didn’t notice as the day came to a close. 

“Good night last night?” Steve asked across the desk.

“Huh?” You looked up from your work. Steve motioned to his neck, and you immediately cringed. You had forgotten about the hickey. “Oh, um yeah I guess,” You pulled your jacket back on, despite the heat, as the collar would cover the mark again. 

“I thought you and Peña were out in the jungle for that lead. You would have got back super late,” Steve said. 

“Everyone’s got their vices, Murphy,” Javier reappeared, jumping to your aid. Steve looked suspiciously between you and Javi. 

“Guess you two are becoming more similar by the day,” He chuckled to himself, shaking any ideas from his mind. 

“Guess so,” You agreed. You and Javi shared a glance while Steve looked away, both of you well aware of the shit storm that would kick up if Steve found out. He loved you and Javi a lot, but there is no way he would just skip over such an event. You flashed a smile, silently thanking Javi for stepping in for you, before he went back to work again. 

To avoid any further questioning, you kept your jacket on for the remainder of the day, rather enduring the heat and cursing Javier for leaving a mark, than having anymore prying questions from Steve. When you finally gave up struggling with your mountain of paperwork, Steve offered you a ride home which you took gladly.

“You and Javi slept together last night, huh?” Steve asked as you rolled out of the embassy. Startled, you immediately went on the defense and laughed.

“Wh-what no!” You spluttered.

“I’m not an idiot, Rookie,” Steve raised an eyebrow at you. You didn’t know what to say, so shook your head and shrugged, “So Javi was talking out of his ass earlier?” He said. Your stomach immediately dropped. 

“Who’s he been talking to?” All laughter was gone from your voice. If Javi had said something that was it. Why on earth would he say anything? 

“So something did happen?” Steve exclaimed, happy that his hunch was right.

“Steve,” You sighed heavily. Relieved for only a moment before more dread piled on. 

“I can’t believe you two,” He said shaking his head, “I mean I was kind of expecting it with Javi’s reputation but I thought you had some standards at least,” 

“You weren’t there, you don’t get it. It wasn’t anything meaningful just- things happen sometimes,” You sighed, “Did he actually say anything to you?” 

“No,” He spoke more sympathetically now, “but I figured something was up, you’ve been acting weird all morning,” 

“That’s more to do with the lack of sleep,” You explained, “Yesterday got a bit… dark. I don’t think I slept at all,” 

“Carrillo?” Steve asked. You nodded solemnly, “You’ll get used to it,” 

You didn’t get used to it. That night haunted you. You couldn’t sleep, every time you shut your eyes the tortured man's face stared back at you. You were practically intolerable come the end of the week. You’d fallen asleep at your desk on multiple occasions, snapped at everyone in the office, and drank enough coffee to fill an Olympic swimming pool. You made a secretary cry by snapping at her over some missing evidence and, had broken the phone on your desk. 

As bad as your week had ended up being you still had to go out at the end of it. Instead of curling up with a movie and takeout you had to attend María’s family’s party. You didn’t know why you were invited but you definitely couldn’t back out of it. You’d hoped by now you would have cheered up, that you would be excited to let loose but you were miserable.

The party itself was gorgeous. Set out in the countryside, an hour from Medellin, the hills made for a beautiful backdrop. The Parreño’s summer house was exactly as you had expected, lavish and decadent. Courtyards filled with marble statues and paintings by various famous artists covered the walls. Lights were strung up around the garden between the pool house and a gazebo creating a colourful glow out onto the golden sky. 

The air was full of conversation and music. Even though you were surrounded by people who would kill you if they found out who you really were, somehow with a drink in your hand you felt a little more relaxed. María had leant you a dress, a simple little black number, and fixed your makeup in the car ride here while excitedly telling you about her cousin from Argentina she was going to set you up with. You were at the very least, on the way to being happy. 

María dragged you around introducing you to so many people you couldn’t remember their names. You gave up trying after ten different people María introduced as her auntie. You smiled and politely complimented their outfit or their hair and moved on. That was until you finally recognised someone. Senator Parreño, a regular face in your life. You prayed he wouldn’t recognise you, you had only met him once, sitting in the back of the ambassador's office while they spoke about something. Like most people, he ignored you that day and hopefully he wouldn’t have a clue now.

“Dad this is my friend, Isabela,” María introduced you. You were taken back for a moment. You knew her family was rich, but a senator for a father made them powerful too. Far more influence and scandal with their new link to Escobar too. 

“Nice to meet you,” You smiled and shook his hand. The senator looked puzzled.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked. Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Oh stop it Dad I talk about her all the time, she’s been to our house a lot,”

“No, no it’s from somewhere else,” He squinted at you, looking you up and down. You could feel yourself sweating as you nervously took a big gulp of the cocktail in your hand.

“Isabela works at the American embassy papa, maybe you’ve just seen her there,” María said.

“I am a secretary,” You added quickly, “Usually running around the place, you probably saw me then,” You laughed nervously. Outwardly, you knew you looked normal but inside you were panicking massively.

“Ah I see,” He nodded, not entirely convinced. Luckily before he could interrogate you further or work out who you actually were, María linked arms with you and pulled your attention away.

“Come on, I just spotted Carlos. You will love him,” 

--

Three things you had learnt about Carlos. One, he could and should be in a magazine. He was stunningly handsome in a shirt with far too many buttons undone you were practically drooling over him. Two, he was smart. An engineer. A very upstanding career especially compared to the occupation of most of the people at the party. And three, he really liked cocaine. That part did let him down quite a bit.

Hidden away from the prying eyes of parents and older generations, María, Diego, Carlos and multiple others you did not remember the names of, sat around listening to Carlos rave about the new recipe his friend had told him about. You listened carefully, if your hangover didn’t delete this information in the morning it would be great. Could finally have something to show for your weeks with María. 

Carlos pulled out a pack of the new cocaine and poured out a good pile. You watched them all take a line. Part of you was interested in seeing what it was like. It must be good if everyone was so addicted to the stuff. You handled some much of the powder on a daily basis but you’d never even tried it. Seemed almost ridiculous. Maybe it was what you needed to finally relax a little, the alcohol wasn’t hitting the spot. One line wouldn’t kill you.

“Want some?” María offered, wiping her nose of residue. You shook your head. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” You announced, standing up from your seat on the couch. You climbed over María out of the circle of people. You could use their distraction to your advantage now. Now María wasn’t holding on to you you could actually go and investigate. Now with two Narcos connected attendees at least and the revelation that Senator Parreño was María’s father, any information you could find giving a definite link would be huge. 

“Don’t be a pussy Isabela!” Diego hollered. 

“Oh leave her alone, she’s only going for a moment,” María shoved her boyfriend playfully, “She’ll do it later,” 

“Pacing myself,” You agreed with a smile. 

“Miss you already!” María called after you before dissolving into fits of giggles.

Inside, the house was quiet. Only a couple of people sat in the living room downstairs and they paid no attention to you as you walked inside. 

You walked up a set of elegant marble stairs, deciding upstairs may be your best option so not to get caught. Two long corridors led off the stairs, with doors leading off each side. You were looking for an office, that would be the place any paperwork would be kept. You would need letters, or meeting schedules. Something to prove a link. 

You turned left, and hit the jackpot with the first try. Senator Parreño’s home office.You pushed the door open slowly, checking nobody had followed you before going inside. The office was immaculate, just as grand as the rest of the house. A large portrait of Maria’s family hung over the back of the desk, all of their eyes watching you as you searched through the room. 

The room was full of things. One wall taken up by a set of shelves full of books and photographs and different trinkets of different sides. A leather couch sat in the window overlooking the gardens. 

You came to the desk last. The top was clear of anything bar a photo of his wife, a line of pens and a rolodex. You flicked through it, found nothing of interest. 

You stood up to find something you could use to pick the locks when you heard heavy footsteps from outside the door. You stood still for a moment, hoping to hear the footsteps go in the opposite direction down the hall. They got closer. 

Before you were caught red handed, you made your escape. Racing to the door, you hoped you would have enough time to slip out without being caught. Quietly as possible, you opened the door.

“Isabela,” María’s father’s voice came from behind you as you shut the door. You turned around quickly, smiling innocently.

“Hi Mr Parreño!” You exclaimed, “Do you know where the bathroom is? I can’t find it?” 

“It’s not in there,” He looked at your hand on the door, which you quickly removed and stepped away from.

“You’re house is just huge. I can’t ever seem to remember where I am going here,” You laughed nervously, “I’ll try down the hall,” You turned around and began to walk away, your 

“I’d learn to be more careful, Agent,” The senator said after you. Your heart stopped. Slowly, you turned back around to face him again, “I guess you are here for my daughter’s stupid boyfriend?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You said slowly, your mouth slow to catch up with your brain which was already working out the multiple ways to get out of the house safely. 

“You can quit your act, I won’t say anything,” He laughed dryly. 

“No act,” You shook your head, “I didn’t lie, I really don’t know what you are talking about. I am not here investigating Diego. María invited me” 

“I remembered where I saw you. You were with those DEA agents,” 

“I work with them sometimes, we’re friends,” You shrugged. 

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” He was on to you

“I’m sorry but I really do need the bathroom, if you could direct me there that would be great. I’ve had far too much to drink,” 

“Down there, fourth on the right,” 

“Thank you,” You walked away quickly, heart thumping against your ribcage at an alarming rate. He knew who you were! He knew exactly who you were! 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You cursed under your breath. 

You quickly spiralled, thinking off all the worst possible things that could happen now. Parreño would tell someone else who you were, maybe he would do something now. You were alone, neither Peña or Murphy knew where you were, out in the middle of nowhere it would be pretty simple to get rid of your body. You didn’t even find any evidence, you reasoned with yourself and he wouldn’t want any suspicion to his name. He probably wouldn’t kill you. 

Taking another deep breath as you tried to calm your rattling heart. Your hands gripped the cold porcelain of the sink and slowly you relaxed again. You couldn’t go back out looking like you were scared, that would give you up entirely. You looked at your face in the mirror, at least outwardly you didn’t look too bad. Your makeup had shifted a little but you still looked ok. You were fine. 

After another round of deep breaths and a pep talk to yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom and put a game face on. 

“Isabela! You’re back!” María exclaimed as you returned to the group. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Your voice was not convincing as you watched the senator walk past. He looked at your briefly, a knowing glint in his eye as he clocked you. “Can I have some?” You nodded to the coke on the table as an impulsive and reckless idea came into your head. There was no way he could continue to think you were DEA if you did this. Either that or he would just think you were an idiot and not press you again. 

“Finally you stop being a complete baby! Come here!” María cheered. 

You stood up and stepped over to where María was knelt. You joined her on the floor, watching carefully as she lined the powder up with a card from the table. She presented it to you with a flourish, laughing again. 

Surprisingly, you were not scared. The adrenaline of the close call was pacing through your veins. Your mind was so full of fear and anxiety, the idea of finally getting some relief was enticing.

You felt calm, no anxiety in your body holding you back anymore you took the drug from the table. You made a face of discomfort and spluttered a bit when it hit the back of your throat. The people around you laughed, but you didn’t feel embarrassed. It took a moment, but soon you felt the effects. All inhibition and anxiety left your body, you felt lighter and buzzing with energy. 

“See, it’s good right?” Maria smiled. You nodded enthusiastically. 

--

You woke up the next morning, tired and hungover. You couldn’t remember much of the night, but turning over to see Carlos naked next to you gave you a good idea of what had happened. He drove you back to Medellin a few hours later, his sports car was a very nice change from the cars you usually drove in. He was a sweet guy and you talked the entire journey home.

“Will I see you again?” He asked as he pulled up a little way from your apartment. You pretended to think about it for a moment, before breaking into a smile and nodding. “Perfect,” He smiled. You got out of the car, the happy smile not leaving your face as you waved and walked away. 

You watched his car pull away before turning in the direction of your apartment. You still had an identity to hide afterall, even if he was nice you couldn’t let him see where you actually lived. There was still a threat of Parreño exposing you, if Carlos knew where  you lived too it was only a matter of time before everyone would be in danger too.

“So that’s where you were,” Javier called out to you across the street as you approached. He sat on the steps of the apartment building, enjoying the sunshine, smoking and drinking a beer. “Getting laid,”

“Not jealous are you, Javi?” You smirked. 

“No! You’re an adult you can do what you want,” He said with a laugh. A jealous twinge in his chest caught him off guard but he couldn’t let you know that, “You look nice by the way, it’s a cute dress,” 

“Thanks,” You blushed a little. He shuffled out the way to let you pass him and climb the stairs. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me,”

“Sure,” You shut the door behind you leaving Javi alone again. He sighed heavily, blowing out his smoke. He never got jealous, but you had done something to him.  He initially put the feeling down the worry. He was concerned for you, going undercover was not something you should be doing at all and from the small amounts you had told him it could be more dangerous than you had first thought. But seeing you step out of that car, seeing you kiss the driver, he knew it was jealousy. 

He wanted to have you close all the time, to protect you. You were perfectly capable of protecting yourself, and had shown that on many occasions but the idea of someone else holding you the way he had made him feel sick. That feeling in turn made him angry. He shouldn’t be feeling any type of way towards you, you were a team mate. He was your mentor. 

He’d brought it all on himself, he shouldn’t have ever invited you in that night. He would have to suffer through the feeling until it went away, you could never know.

--

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[royivia]

The Neighborhood

Sibyl Campbell wasn’t even mad when she woke up on a hot ass May morning in her room, drenched in sweat. Instead, she bypassed anger and went straight to resignation because the HVAC system in the Robert Moses Houses was broken — again — and she didn’t have the time or the energy to bitch about it. In fact, the heating and cooling stayed shutting off across Groundview Gardens. It had become a predictable kind of disappointment in the neighborhood, more so than flooding during superstorms or the fact that no matter which part of the neighborhood you were in, you could feel the rumbling of the shuttle every seven minutes.

Sibyl had spent all night coughing and turning in her bed from the claustrophobic heat that agitated her asthma. Her mother had already gone to work, otherwise, she would have heard Mildred Campbell yelling in indignant patwa over the phone at an Arcadian Realty & Management representative “to fix the damn AC” before she threatened to call 311 on their ass, and report them to the city. Both Mildred and the AR&M rep knew it was an empty threat, but to shut her up, they’d call someone who’d tinker with the system and the air would come back on for a couple of days or so, before it chipped out. And then, the routine would start again.

Sibyl checked the weather. It was already ninety-five degrees. She took a puff from her inhaler and scrolled through her timeline. The same picture of a little girl with a big bright smile captioned with different variations of “RIP Destiny’’ and prayers for her family flooded her feed. Sibyl forced herself out of bed. The sweat on her body made her feel uncomfortable. She hauled a clunky, old portable air conditioner out from her closet and plugged it into the wall. Management would fine them for the spike in their energy use, but she didn’t care. She pushed the power button on, and waited for the box to cough out some hot air before it eventually cooled the room down from a humid haze to a lackluster lukewarm.

#

SOIL had been trying to meet with AR&M, the neighborhood’s collective management company, about the HVAC problem with little to no success for close to three years. They had circulated petitions. Tried shaming them in the local news. They even considered organizing a rent strike, which would have done nothing because everybody who lived in Groundview Gardens received subsidies from the city that made rent practically free. And as much as people were pissed about freezing their asses off in the winter or not being able to breathe during the summer, nobody was tryna fight free rent. So, SOIL decided to annoy the shit out of their landlords instead. On their way into their coolly ventilated corporate office buildings, occupying their lobbies, picketing in front of their luxury condos, and most effectively, managing to damage one, or two, of their solar-powered generators in the hottest month New York City had ever seen. A few arrests and some pissed off rich people later, management finally agreed to hold a town hall to hear from their tenants, which meant SOIL’s next plan of action was to convince as many people as possible to show up. Nefi Ramos saw it as a challenge that they could surely accomplish. Her neighbors were like camels to water in a desert. They were thirsty, and had learned to go without for as long as they needed to, but lead them to a watering hole, and they would drink.

“It’s too fucking hot,” she shouted into her megaphone. She was standing in front of one of the many large screens around Groundview that cycled between ads for things they couldn’t afford and AR&M’s infamous “neighborhoods of tomorrow” promotional video. Most people just used the screens to check train arrival times and the air quality. The next shuttle was two minutes away, and the air was currently “unsafe for vulnerable groups.”

“Are we just supposed to take this shit?” Nefi asked. “We don’t deserve to live like this.”

Around her, the rest of SOIL handed out cold bottles of water, popsicles, and fruit cups from coolers filled with melting ice, along with flyers to people walking towards the train platform. They walked past the demonstration uninterestedly, only stopping long enough to take a bottle of water. Everyone had gotten used to Nefi shouting at them to care about things beyond their control, and learned to tune her and the rest of her angry SOILders out, taking their flyers every now and then only to chuck them into the nearest trash can. This morning, a few people did stop to listen for a second or two, the heat getting the better of them, before they saw the time flicker on the screen behind her, and realized that they’d be late for work.

Sibyl, her camera always strapped to her body, snapped a few shots of her neighbor. Nefi was like a loud older cousin who wasn’t afraid of a little trouble, or frankly anything. She both awed and terrified Sibyl.

“It’s time for these slumlords to sweat,” Nefi went on. “We need to organize. Our voices are stronger together — ”

“What makes you think anyone gives a shit about what happens to us down here?”

Mr. Solomon had been on his way to the bodega to buy his morning loosie, but stopped to sit in his walker, taking a moment to catch his breath.

“That’s exactly what they want us to think, vecino.” Nefi softened her voice in that way she did when she was trying not to shout. “The more we believe that we can’t make them pay attention to us, the longer they get away with treating us like shit.”

“I remember when they first moved people into Groundview.” In the midst of reminiscing, Mr. Solomon started coughing aggressively, prompting someone to hand him a bottle of water which he drank quickly before continuing. “We were protesting and shouting in the streets, but they didn’t care then. They’re not gonna care now.” The history lesson quickly turned into yet another heated debate about neighborhood politics between him and some of the other SOILders trying to convince him to take one of their flyers. Sibyl used the opportunity to catch Nefi’s attention, who waved her over enthusiastically.

“Yo, did you hear?” Nefi handed her a fruit cup. “We finally got a meeting with the overlords! Are you gonna come?”

“Nahhh, Nefi. You know that’s not really my thing…I’m not an activist.” Nefi was always trying to recruit her for some radical ass shit that just never seemed worth the trouble of explaining to Sibyl’s very Jamaican mother.

“Nobody said you had to be. You live in this neighborhood, and have just as much say about what happens in it as the suits who own it.” Nefi sensed Sibyl’s hesitation. “Please Sib! Come so we have more people in the room. You don’t have to say anything. We just want those dicks to see that we have power. People power!”

Nefi was very proud of the fact that she had an uncle, or it might have been a second cousin, who had been a member of the Young Lords and, drawing on their legacy of fighting for the liberation of Puerto Ricans, was always going on about the oppressive nature of renting, and self-determination for poor people, and community empowerment, and, and…

“Aight — I’ll go,” Sibyl assured her, trying to cut her sermon short. Nefi hugged her and thanked her a million times before shoving a stack of flyers into her arms to pass out and post up around the neighborhood.

#

The singular garden in Groundview Gardens was usually ten degrees cooler than anywhere else in the neighborhood. It was created — not by the architects who had designed New York City’s newest development, but instead — by the community out of desperation as an escape from their cramped apartments. During the days, the older folks used it to grow their herbs, medicines, and flowers for their healing practices. The local farmers grew produce that fed the community. After school and on the weekends, all the kids hung out at the community center at the heart of the garden where they learned to dance, make art, and play music.

By the time Sybil got there later that night, Groundview’s collective of artists had already transformed the greenspace into their Saturday night hangout. One of the DJs was spinning records. People were dancing, drinking, smoking, having a good time. Dante, Sage, and Felix had bottles in their hands when Sibyl joined them at their usual spot. Their clothes were covered in colorful patches of spray paint.

“Did you finish it? When do I get to see it?,” she asked them excitedly. She hadn’t seen her friends in about a week, which meant they were either done with their latest mural or were taking a break before they disappeared for another few days. “Soon.” Dante looked tired, but excitement danced in his eyes. “Shoot anything good lately?” He leaned in reaching for her camera, but she quickly pulled back from him.

He laughed at her and took a sip of beer. Dante was her oldest friend out of the trio. There was a quiet protectiveness between the two of them Sibyl hoped they could always maintain.

“It’s been a minute since I last checked.”

“How come?” Dante asked.

Sibyl usually couldn’t wait to hold herself up in the darkroom at the community center to develop her film, but she had been putting off her latest batch. She’d fallen in love with photography while taking classes at the center as a kid. So much so that one day, her mother came home with an old film camera and Sibyl never put it down. That first summer, she ran around the neighborhood asking to take people’s photos. It felt so natural to her, though it had taken a while to gain people’s trust. Take their pictures for what? What was she going to do with them? Skeptics, but curious, they eventually agreed. They’d uncomfortably pose or force a smile, and then immediately ask her to see it because if they didn’t look good, she’d have to delete it. Then she’d explain how film photography worked, and they’d cuss her out for wasting their time.

Weeks later, she’d find them again — at the corner store, or at the People’s Garden, and give them the glossy prints she’d developed. Through her lens she could see they were secretly afraid she’d see the things they’d all spent so much time and concern trying to hide. But those things would all melt away when they’d see themselves — some for the first time — with the same worth and value she saw in them. After that Sibyl didn’t have to ask. They booked her for quinces and graduation parties and engagement photos. People would stop her when they saw her around. “So you not gonna take my picture? Girl, you know I look good today. Quit playing and snap something quick,” and they’d pose with more pride than before, as if to officially celebrate the triumph of living, something they didn’t know they had accomplished until they saw proof.

After seeing so many of her neighbors’ pictures, some of which she took, circulate in online memorials, something lodged itself in the pit of Sibyl’s gut. She couldn’t fully identify what it was, but it left her with little energy to feel or do anything else outside of going to school and work. But she didn’t know how to explain that to her friends without being weird or bringing down the mood, so she just said, “Been busy with school.” She quickly changed the subject before anyone tried to press her on it.

“Are ya gonna go to the town hall?”

“What town hall?” Sage asked.

“The one with management. About the HVACs.” Sibyl handed them flyers from her bag. “I promised Nefi I’d go, but I don’t want to go by myself. Someone come with me?”

“Pass,” Felix snorted.

“I’ll go. Should be fun,” Sage said with a smirk on their face. “I wanna hear what those assholes say their excuse is for not fixing shit.”

“I’ll save ya the trip. Sorry, you’re too poor for us to care,” Felix mocked. “It’s not like they’re all of a sudden gonna have a conscience ya know.”

“You mad negative bro,” Dante said.

“What?” Felix asked animatedly. “You really trying to spend the rest of your life down here? We all need to focus on getting the fuck up outta here instead of asking them to fix some janky ass vents.”

It’s not like anybody was trying to spend any part of their lives in Groundview, but lately it seemed like the rest of their lives wouldn’t take so long. The sound of the shuttle, more muffled than anywhere else, reverberated throughout the garden.

“I’m out the first chance I get,” Dante admitted. His answer wasn’t surprising to any of them, but this was the first time Sibyl heard him say it out loud. Dante was one of the more talented and disciplined artists in the collective. It would only be a matter of time before he blew up and left.

“What happens when ya leave though?” Sage was upset. “You get out, but what about the rest of us? Not everybody can up and leave right? Shouldn’t we try and make shit better for everyone.”

“That’s a trap, Sage. Shit’s not gonna get better,” Felix said harshly. “Does it ever hit ya, like really hit ya that there’s no future for us here? Everybody’s so busy working to get by, we don’t even have time to realize how fucked up everything is.”

“I’m not saying it’s perfect.” Sage shot back. “I just don’t think we have to turn our back on our community. That’s fucked up.”

“Don’t take it so personally, Sage,” Dante cut in. “Nobody’s turning their backs on anyone.”

“Besides, no offense to Nefi n ‘em,” Felix said, “but everybody’s wasting their time if they think those suits are gonna fix anything.”

Sibyl listened quietly. Groundview was all they ever knew. She had never considered leaving it, and yet she also was afraid to admit that she thought Felix might be right.

#

The middle school auditorium only had like fifteen people — half were members of SOIL — in there that Tuesday night, which was more than Nefi had expected. The handful of people who told her they wanted to go to the town hall, but couldn’t, were either working, or would get home too late from work and would have to cook dinner or iron school uniforms for the next day. Everyone else couldn’t be bothered; like Felix, they thought it was a waste of time. That nothing would come from it. Sibyl didn’t show. No one who attended the town hall actually thought anything would come from it either. If AR&M had wanted to do something, they would have done it a long ass time ago. The people who did show up were mostly Nefi’s elderly neighbors who were always ready to spit their anger into a mic because if they weren’t going to get a solution, they would at least get to cuss someone out, and have an audience to witness it.

Nefi worked her way around the room to thank people for coming. These things always felt like family reunions to her. Old friends hugging and catching up because they hadn’t seen each other in a minute, with work and family and life moving everybody in this or that direction, even though they all still lived in the same neighborhood. She finished up her greetings and joined the rest of SOIL, huddled at the front of the room. They went over the order of speakers, before Benjy, the group’s designated peacemaker for the evening, asked everyone to quiet down and get seated so they could start. He reminded everyone to keep it civil. Then one by one, people got up to the mic to direct their anger at the empty faces in tailored suits, sitting at the table in front of them, who could all care less about the people shouting at them. There was a lot of finger snapping, and “that’s right” and “tell-em’s” from the crowd throughout.

Finally about half an hour in, a young woman, with a little girl clutching on to the left side of her body, got up to the mic.

“My name is Mercy Brooks, and this is my daughter Angelique.” Her voice was shaking, in that soft, angry, pissed off kinda way that warranted attention. Nefi hushed the crowd down so that she could speak her peace without interruption. “My daughter’s asthma acts up almost every day. She can’t breathe. Ya should be fucking ashamed of yaselves. Our babies are dying down here. Is that what we deserve because we can’t do better? We just supposed to take that shit. You ever thought about what it’s like to live down here, huh? I’m sure ya don’t cause if you did, you wouldn’t think it was right to keep people living like this. Or do ya not care cause it’s not your kids?”

There was silence from the table, which was worse than feigning any sympathy or remorse. It set the room off into chants, which meant it was over from there. AR&M security shut that shit down quick right on cue, and if you weren’t arrested that night, you were brusquely escorted out. Management promised to set up some vague kind of task force with representatives from the neighborhood, but it led to nothing. A fucking disappointment, that’s what that shit was. And it wasn’t a surprise to Nefi or anyone else, but it hurt all the same. A few weeks later, that same woman who got up and spoke, her daughter Angelique died because they couldn’t get her to the hospital in time after she had an asthma attack. AR&M still hadn’t fixed the vents in their housing complex. And they still didn’t change the filters or fix the ducts in the other housing complexes so that it wouldn’t happen again after that. SOIL kept trying to drum up some kind of anger. Anything to get people to feel something. To do something.

Murals of Destiny, Angelique, and every other person who had died that year quietly popped up around the neighborhood. Vigils and altars with flowers and prayer candles accompanied them. But as much as people were upset or sad, no one knew what else to do except mourn and move on because it was clear to everyone that no one gave a damn about them. And so, what was the point?

##

They called it the Subterranean Housing and Inner-City Tunnels project, or S.H.I.T. for short. A plan to provide affordable housing for everyone who had experienced the worst housing crisis New York City had ever seen. People were evicted left and right. Families were priced out of their homes and neighborhoods. The shelter system, swelled beyond its limits for decades, finally collapsed. The streets and subway were overrun with people in sleeping bags and blankets. So nothing new, but it finally annoyed enough people to warrant action.

Naturally, the city contracted its most blood thirsty developers, AR&M, to help solve the problem, which was kinda like asking an arsonist to put out a fire they had proudly started. To no one’s surprise, they didn’t want to forfeit any of their luxury condos that sat empty while people slept on the streets. Instead, they struck a deal to create the largest scale of public housing of its kind, in exchange for absolute, unregulated freedom. The only problem was there was literally no land left for them to develop because they had already bought it all. And then one day, the chief architect of S.H.I.T. had an epiphany when he felt the uptown 6 train rumbling beneath his feet. There was an entire part of the city he had yet to consider. Where a majority of the people who needed housing were already living. Sprawling housing complexes with multi-unit apartments appeared overnight 150 feet underground, with the pilot site in the South Bronx. A new subway station and miles and miles of foot tunnels connected New York’s newest neighborhood to the world above it.

There were protests, anger, outrage! That the country’s most progressive city could so blatantly, and quickly!, shove all of its poor people out of sight only seemed to bother the poor people because everyone else praised S.H.I.T. as the most innovative solution of the 21st century. New York City had done the impossible, and housed every single person. That was grounds for celebration and federal funding. Plans were quickly announced to roll S.H.I.T. out across every major city in the country. To ease people’s concerns, the mayor at the time, eyeing a presidential run, promised that his own city’s underground neighborhood would just be temporary — transitional housing at best. Transitional to what, no one could answer. Temporary until when? Until they could think of something else. One year became five, became ten, etc., etc.

In time, AR&M and the city eventually added a couple schools, a hospital, a library, and a sad excuse for a park that residents eventually turned into the People’s Garden. Folks opened up bodegas, 99 cent and liquor stores, and made themselves at home. It didn’t take long to accept living where they did as another fact of life because they had no other choice. Over time, the plan to move everyone back aboveground disappeared from the city’s housing briefings. Then, the briefings disappeared altogether. The high rates of asthma and chronic bronchitis that seemed to come from living in Groundview occasionally made the nightly news, but not enough to cause major concern or stop neighborhoods like Groundview from popping up across the country.

There were still those who remembered life before Groundview, and vowed to move out of the neighborhood as soon as the opportunity arrived. They kept the dream close to their hearts. And if it didn’t happen during their lifetimes, they’d make sure it would happen during their children’s. More realized it was a fool’s dream and moved on. Eventually though, everyone adapted to the vibrations of the shuttle inside their kitchens. The white, fluorescent lighting that lit every corner of their world like a harsh, artificial sun. The damp, muggy air that arrested their chests if they tried to breathe too freely. And the humming of the massive ventilation systems that heated and cooled their cramped, windowless apartments — when they decided to work.

#

An Artist’s Treatise on Survival

I don’t know how we do it sometimes. That is, put up with all the shit that life throws at us. Work jobs that exhaust us with little in return. Take care of our families with little to no support. Do so much with so little. And still be able to smile or laugh in the midst of it all. Then, I remember: it’s because we have to. No one else is gonna pay our bills if we don’t. No one else is gonna put food on our tables for us. No one’s gonna bail us out. Naturally, you learn to hustle. To channel your frustrations into working around the way things are because trying to fix things that were built broken takes time you don’t have when you’re just trying to get by.

What gets me even more is how we’ve perfected survival itself as an artform, and created whole new types of living from abject desperation. We wasn’t supposed to, much less find reasons to enjoy life, but we did anyway. Some even take on the added challenge of trying to make life more bearable, more enjoyable, for the rest of us. For example, sometimes when it felt like there wasn’t much to appreciate. That you were resigned to the fate of being alive and not living and didn’t deserve any better. You’d see a mural. On the way to the laundromat. Or the corner store. While you were running errands. Or walking home, bone tired, from the train after another long, shitty day at work. And like all good, beautiful things, it reminded you to breathe. You didn’t always know who created it. Or couldn’t remember if it was there the day before even though you’ve walked that way millions of times. You just knew that it was, in its own way, encouraging you to make it to tomorrow. Bright bursts of color and story interrupting the mundane, tiresome every day you’d come to accept with no protest. After a while, it becomes easier to accept a simple truth about living. That we can still manage to find a reason to laugh, to enjoy life, despite it all, and that we can be the source of our own power. It’s kind of audacious of us to still try and find joy even if it means creating it for ourselves. Maybe that’s why we do it.

#

At first, it started off as harmless tagging, and they kept it up chasing the thrill of not getting caught. Then they tried to outdo each other. It became a sport: who could paint the better mural. Get the most buzz around the neighborhood before they got painted over. But the better they got, and the more the murals looked legit, the longer they stayed up. Until they stopped painting over them altogether because people loved them so much. They didn’t belong to the creators anymore. They belonged to the neighborhood. And before they knew it, they’d created something much bigger than any of them could have imagined.

The tunnels just seemed like the next natural step for the graffiti artists in Groundview. Miles and miles of blank walls? Dante, especially, saw something to keep him busy after his brother died. Besides, painting murals felt like the only thing he could do. He’d stopped going to school. He’d just paint. When he ran out of ideas to paint, he asked Sibyl to see her portraits, and he started replicating them across the neighborhood. He was relentless — portrait after portrait. Sage and Felix started helping him out because they worried he would lose it, spending all that time in the tunnels by himself. He was grasping for something, but he didn’t know what it was. Until he saw it, lying on the ground near a garbage can.

The Groundview Residents’ List of Demands

The People of Groundview Gardens demand financial and social restitution for all residents, especially those who developed chronic health issues from living underground and/or have lost loved ones because of it.

The People demand New York City move all Groundview residents back above ground into rent subsidized apartments.

The People demand New York City disband all underground housing policies so that no one else has to live in Groundview Gardens or any other housing project like it.

Until the first three demands are met, The People demand Arcadian Realty & Management fix the HVAC systems in every single housing complex it owns and regularly maintain them.

Once Groundview Gardens is fully evacuated, The People demand New York City turn the entire neighborhood into a public memorial to commemorate the loss of life, preserving the art and The People’s Garden.

After the town hall, and the supposed task force, proved to be a bust, SOIL had created the demands to deliver to the city. They circulated leaflets with the five bullet points, but no one would take them seriously. Dante himself, admittedly, had checked out, and had ignored SOIL’s literature, up until that point. The demands appeared overnight on the walls of the tunnels in bold white paint for everyone to see. They were the last thing everyone saw coming into Groundview and the first thing they saw from the shuttle on their commutes leaving the neighborhood.

#

Nefi kept waiting for the moment when her neighbors would suddenly realize that they were angry — very angry. They’d decide they were fed up once and for all and refuse to settle for less anymore. They’d riot in the streets. They’d protest in front of AR&M’s offices. They’d refuse to go into work until something changed. Their anger would get everyone’s attention. Her own rage had burned intensely inside her for as long as she knew herself. She learned to channel it through SOIL trying to make Groundview a better place, even though everyone told her it wasn’t worth it; it wasn’t possible; it was a waste of time. But it was either that or literally set some shit on fire. But, it didn’t matter how many rallies, tenant meetings, town halls, or demonstrations SOIL organized. Nefi learned that she couldn’t have a revolution without people. And the people? They were tired and overworked. They didn’t have time to overthrow anything. And, even though no one would admit it, they were also afraid — afraid of change, of what they could lose, of realizing that something greater than what they had come to know was possible. So to save themselves, and Nefi, further disappointment, they rebuffed her again, and again: Nefi you need to chill. Girl you’re doing too much. Don’t waste your time. Nothing’s gonna change. After the town hall, and years and years of holding hope, the fire inside Nefi dulled until she couldn’t recognize herself anymore. She conceded her rage for high-functioning hopelessness. She withdrew from her friends, from her neighbors, from SOIL, only tapping into enough energy to wake up, go to work, and make her way back home. The days bled into each other, so much so that when the night Nefi had been waiting for eventually came later that August, it caught her completely off guard. It caught everyone off guard because it wasn’t the HVACs or the deaths of toddlers, or even the wrath towards AR&M that finally set people off. But it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone who’s lived in New York City long enough because it was the one thing that could incite the level of large-scale anarchic rage Nefi had been holding out for — and that was the MTA.

#

The night in question, the air was hot, muggy, and heavy with potential. Like any other evening, people were heading home from work, the collective exhaustion weighing down on their bodies, stamped into their faces. They waited together, huddled in a sweaty mass on the sweltering Third Ave-138th St. platform for a train that felt like it would never come. When an empty shuttle finally did arrive in the station, the doors opened to the grating sound of a man’s voice coming through the train’s speaker system:

“Attention passengers. This is your conductor speaking. Due to unplanned construction up ahead, we are disbanding all trains to Groundview Gardens at this time. I repeat, we are disbanding all trains to Groundview. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

This shit had happened plenty of times before. A disruption of service that made it difficult to get home. Everybody was so used to it and had even come to expect it. The inconvenience of being poor and powerless consistently working against them. It too had become a predictable kind of disappointment. Even the audible, collective disapproval was muted and slightly rehearsed, nothing more than a reflex. They would have to find their way home, some two-odd miles on foot, through the tunnels. But that night, Ms. Claudette, who had been on her feet all day at work taking care of her elderly patient and still had to go home and iron her scrubs for the next day, was fucking tired. She had paid her fare. And, she had paid her taxes. She had also paid her dues in this country — twenty-seven years worth of struggle and debasement — for what? This could not be it. Life could not just be disappointment. The least she expected was that the train would get her home like it was supposed to. She decided that she was going to let the conductor have a piece of her mind.

“This is nonsense. Tell me, just tell me, how am I supposed to get home?” Her boisterous St. Lucian accent traveled well beyond her.

Folks who heard her echoed in agreement, hyping her up. “They have the nerve to raise prices for this shitty ass service,” someone said loudly. They all collectively decided to board the empty train. The construction workers in their hard hats and massive boots, the women with their large tote bags and their tiredness neatly folded away into themselves. They were all going to sit on the train, until it started up again. It was going to take them home.

The conductor was tired too. Nothing as deep-seated as his passengers, but something not too far removed. He had no skin in this game though, and his job didn’t pay him enough to care. He was annoyed; they were keeping him from clocking out. And so, after listening to a bunch of people passionately curse him out, he told them to, and I quote:

“Write a letter.”

It happened so fast. I mean, when I say shit popped off before anyone could swallow their spit. Someone knocked over the trash cans on the platform. Someone else, set them on fire, with what to this day no one really knows, but their latent anger seemed to have ignited what they didn’t know was inside them.

The riots lasted for weeks. People boycotted the MTA and didn’t go to work.

The restaurants aboveground shuttered because they were understaffed. Construction on all the new developments stopped because the workers, a lot of whom lived in Groundview, refused to show up. People aboveground had to stay home because their nannies and house cleaners weren’t able to come and relieve them like they had come to rely on. Groundview had forced the city to come to a complete stop. The mayor held a press conference saying she didn’t condone the behavior of the vandals at the train station. SOIL led protests and demonstrations in front of city hall until she had to hold a second press conference to apologize for her statements at the first press conference. She promised she was going to make sure that it would never happen again — not just the riots, but the unnecessary deaths in Groundview, the resentment the residents felt towards the city. They were going to fix the HVACs, and the MTA! They were going to heal the great divide the city had long thrived on once and for all, if, and only if, the workers called off the strike and went back to work. It sounded so sincere, everyone wanted to believe it. Tired of holding all the power, they asked SOIL to represent them at the bargaining table. Deals were made. Hands were shaken. And things went back to a semblance of normal with a few slight adjustments.

#

Sibyl was heading out of her apartment when she saw a piece of yellow paper on her front door.

60 DAYS NOTICE TO INCREASE RENT

Mildred Campbell 207 167th St. (GG), Unit 10E

Beginning September 1, 2041, the monthly rent will go up an additional 5% for all units located in the Robert Moses Houses. Please make the appropriate adjustments within the AR&M digital payment system.

We appreciate your continued tenancy.

Sincerely, Arcadian Realty & Management

Pieces of yellow paper were taped to every single door she passed on her way to the train. It had been a year since the last time the heating or cooling had stopped working. Everyone held their breath celebrating, just in case that was when the heat would shut off or the air would decide to stop working again, but it never did. The number of deaths and hospitalizations went down, and everyone seemed content enough after the strikes and boycott ended, to go back to work. The trains even went back to running as efficiently as possible for the MTA, always teetering on the edge of collapse, but never actually approaching it for fear of recreating another opportunity for mass rebellion.

On her way to the shuttle, Sibyl saw a group of people congregating near one of the murals. She clutched her camera in her hand, ready to raise it to her face, when she heard a voice she didn’t recognize shouting through a megaphone. It belonged to a man she had never seen around the neighborhood before, and he was walking backwards while talking to a group of people Sibyl also didn’t recognize.

“Groundview is the latest up and coming neighborhood in the city,” his voice echoed. “Some of the most promising young artists have gotten their start in this urban — ”

She didn’t stick around to hear more.

After the riots, small groups of tourists descended regularly on Groundview like vultures to see the murals they had seen in viral photographs. They’d rudely block the paths from the train platform, or take up way too much space on the footpaths of the tunnels posing in front of the murals for pictures. Not long after that came the opportunistic hacks who had never stepped foot in Groundview before, running “culture tours’’ around the neighborhood. The residents felt like they were stuck in some sick and twisted museum. Out of annoyance, they banned the tours and non-residents from the People’s Garden, preserving their one last sanctuary in the community.

Sibyl had been in the middle of it all the first night of the riots. She was on the subway platform on her way home from classes and started snapping pictures once she realized what was going on, catching the fervent energy better than anyone could describe to everyone else who wasn’t there. She had no idea her photos would end up everywhere. But they did, and they not only helped draw attention to the plight of her neighborhood. They also drew attention to the wealth of talent germinating underneath the city. Her photos of her friends, their murals, and the other members of her neighborhood, had also attracted a lot of attention that felt good to the young artists who all of a sudden saw opportunities previously unavailable to them right at their doorsteps.

The shuttle arrived on the platform before her. Sibyl boarded the cool air-conditioned cart; the beads of sweat on her skin quickly evaporated. Nefi had warned them to be careful early on. “These things always end up having you exploit your own people for a cheap come up, and it’s never worth it.” Everyone thought she was trippin’. There Nefi was again just looking for another cause to fight now that her crusade against A&RM had seemed to come to an end. Even Sibyl thought she was overreacting at first. People were finally paying attention to Groundview. If she and the rest of the artists could help show the world how important the lives of the people who lived there were, maybe things could change for the better.

The train disappeared into the tunnel towards the 138th St. station. A lot of things had quietly changed over the last year and a half. Many of the families who had lost loved ones, including Dante’s, received settlements from the city and moved out of the neighborhood, leaving a sizable number of the apartments empty. Leading to perhaps the most visible addition to the neighborhood. AR&M had a couple of the younger artists looking for their own big break paint over SOIL’s list of demands and replaced it with a more “aesthetically inviting” message for the new visitors to the neighborhood: Welcome to the Mural District. Sibyl had only heard the tour guides call it that, in an unveiled attempt to rebrand Groundview. It didn’t take too long to find out where they got it from. The name and the welcome sign led to intense debates between the artists in the collective, including her friends, about people selling out and what they owed to each other as artists and their neighbors, which led to a few people splitting off and doing their own thing. The mural made Sibyl sick to her stomach, and she tried her best to avoid seeing it on her commutes. Then one day, someone started covering it up with black graffiti making the message unreadable.

No one knew who it was because they never got caught, but it didn’t matter to AR&M. Like clockwork the next morning, they had cleaners paint a fresh welcome message over it in time for the daily tours at noon. When the welcome message started appearing on the AR&M screens, the screens started getting covered in graffiti too. After a few months, Sibyl expected the guerilla painters to give up and move on, but they didn’t. Fresh graffiti kept appearing over the mural and on the screens, prompting AR&M to deploy their clean up crews, and then the routine would start again. Sibyl looked out the window in anticipation. “OURS.” The word, written over and over again across the mural, quickly came into view and then vanished out of sight.

[cinnamon-roll-seth]

Not Good For You || JJ Maybank

Your disapproving father gets into JJ’s head and leads him to believe that he isn’t good enough for you. JJ, believing your father’s words, tries to end things but you’re not giving up without a fight.

You watch in disbelief as a handcuffed JJ gets shoved into the back of the police truck. Kiara stands next to you, equally as shocked, while Pope stands across from the two of you, next to his dad. The three of you watch helplessly as Shoupe gets in the truck and drives away.

Pope starts anxiously walking around grabbing at his hat and then suddenly takes it off and chucks it at the ground, “Shit!” He yells before storming off.

“Pope? Pope!” His dad calls before running after him.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” You mutter over and over, digging your hands in your hair, “Why the fuck did he do that?! He knew damn well it wasn’t him who sank that stupid boat!”

“Because it’s JJ,” Kiara replies, “Of course he’d take the blame for Pope, he’s selfless like that. He’s always protecting his friends.”

You sigh, “Well sometimes I hate him for it. God he’s probably freaking out right now.”

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s tough.” Kie assures you softly and you nod.

“I sure hope so. Hey I should probably get home, it’s only a matter of time before my dad finds out and if I’m not close by he’ll have a fit.” She nods, knowing how your dad is, and the two of you say your goodbyes before you get into you car and drive the short way back to Figure Eight.

The thing about being a kook and dating a pogue is that everybody judges you. They all think that you’re making a mistake by dating JJ and that someday he’ll end up pulling you into whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into. It’s part of the reason why, although you live the kook lifestyle, you still prefer to hang out with the pogues. You’re kind of like a half kook/half pogue.

Your father, however, is probably the most angry about it. He would disapprove of anybody who isn’t rich, pogue or not, and the fact that JJ is always causing mischief makes it worse. He keeps tabs on your relationship, and JJ in general, like a hawk.

You cringe as you pull into the long driveway and sure enough your father is already standing on the front steps, arms crossed over his chest, “Where the hell have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve just been hanging out with Kiara,” You reply nonchalantly.

“Hanging out with Kiara? Don’t lie to me, I know you were with that dirty delinquent boyfriend of yours.”

“Don’t change the subject,” He warns angrily, “I heard he got arrested?! What the hell did he do this time?!”

“It’s none of your business Dad. Stay out of it.”

“I want you to stay away from that boy. I’ve said it a million times before and you don’t listen but I’m serious this time Y/N. End things with him.”

“Or what? What are you gonna do dad? Lock me in the house like a princess in a tower? You know what, I’m done talking about this right now.” You angrily walk over to the driver’s side of your car before climbing in and slamming the door.

“Where do you think you’re going? Y/N, I swear to god if you start that car you’re grounded.” You ignore him and start the car before speeding away from the house, drowning out your father’s angry screaming.

As you pull into The Wreck’s parking lot for the second time that day you run a hand through your hair and sigh, “Fuck.”

“Hey what are you doing back? I thought you had to get home to Dadzilla?” Kie asks as you walk into the restraunt.

“Yeah well he decided he was going to yell at me as soon as I got there and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.” You shrug and sit down at the bar. She nods in understanding but doesn’t say anything else.

“Yeah?” She asks, not looking up from her cleaning.

“Could I maybe stay with you for a few days? Just until all this shit with JJ is sorted out. If I go home my dad is gonna be all up my ass about it.”

“Of course Y/N, you know you’re always welcome at my house.” You smile, silently thanking her, and patiently wait until she’s done cleaning before you both head back to her house.

{The Next Night}

“Just so you know, if you weren’t going to be there I definitely wouldn’t be going to this stupid party.” You tell Kiara as the two of you stare at yourselves in her mirror.

“Oh I know. If it wasn’t for my mom making me I wouldn’t be going to this stupid party either,” She laughs as her mom pops her head into the room.

“You girls almost ready?”

“Yeah we’ll be down in a minute,” Kiara replies and her Mom nods before leaving once more.

Kie sighs and turns to you, “You ready for this?”

You shrug, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

When you get there the place is already crawling with kooks and the two of you are quick to split from her family and go find Pope. Although he’s not a kook so he isn’t actually a part of the club his dad always caters and Pope usually tags along to help.

You keep a close eye on the crowd, ready to split if you see your father. Finally you spot Pope standing off to the side with his Dad and rush over to greet him.

After a while of watching and making fun of the kooks you turn towards Pope, “Hey, have you heard from JJ?”

“No, you guys?” He asks and you and Kie shake your heads.

“No. He’ll be alright though, he has the survival instincts of a cockroach.” Kie answers.

He sighs, “It’s all my fault.”

“No it’s not Pope, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You assure him.

“Topper almost killed you, remember?” He doesn’t respond as the Camerons’ arrival steals everyone’s attention.

As the night goes on and it begins to get dark the three of you continue to stand aside watching the kooks dance and laugh and live their lives. You continue to keep an eye out for your father, thankfully the closest thing you get to spotting him is catching a five second glimpse of your little brother dancing with some little girl from his second grade class.

At some point you excuse myself to go to the bathroom and push through the crowd into the club.

Unbeknownst to you JJ is outside searching for Sarah after a short run-in with Pope. Finding Sarah and giving her John B’s note was at the top of his list but after that his main focus was going to be finding you. He finally spots Sarah when a hand roughly wraps around his arm and drags him away from the chaos.

“Dude what the hell?!” He yells as he’s dragged away to a little nook in the porch, away from the crowd. The assailant releases the death grip they have on JJ’s upper arm and practically throws the boy forward in front of them.

He stumbles a little before regaining his balance and turning to see Y/N’s dad standing in front of him looking quite angry.

“Oh hey Mr. Y/L/N. What, did you want to do a little future son-in-law and father-in-law bonding? You could’ve just asked, no need to be so rough.” He says sarcastically.

“Cut the shit kid. Look, I don’t like you, you’re dirty and rotten and you’re not good for my daughter. Now I’ve told her to end it but clearly she has other ideas so I’m going to tell you instead. You need to end things between the two of you and move on, and after that stay a far distance away.” Your father spits in a warning tone.

“And what will you do if I don’t?” JJ questions tauntingly, “I mean, my apologies sir, but that’s not going to happen. I love your daughter and I’ll never leave her.”

“You know, despite hanging around you and your delinquent friends, who probably have no hopes or goals for the future and will probably be stuck on The Cut barely scraping by to survive for the rest of your lives, she has aspirations. She wants to go somewhere in life, do things with her life. Things that you, a poor boy from the bad side of the island, who’s always getting into trouble, aren’t capable of doing. Now maybe being with you isn’t affecting her right now but someday soon you will get into trouble that is so deep that you will drag my daughter down with you and everything she wants for her future, everything she’s worked towards and done to achieve her goals, will be thrown out the window.” JJ stays silent, playing your father’s words over in his head as the older man continues, “Don’t ruin her life. End it before she pays the price for your mistakes.” And with that he turns and walks away.

“Yeah, um, no. I stayed at Kiara’s, I’m gonna be sleeping there for a few days.” You answer, tugging at your dress.

“Honey please. Come home with us later, your father and I were worried about you. He told me about your little argument and about you storming off. That wasn’t very respectful Y/N, I thought we taught you better than that.” You laugh in disbelief, shaking your head at her words.

“Did he forget to tell you how he practically threatened me to break up with JJ? How he was the one who started the whole thing in the first place? Of course not and it’s not like you would care anyway because you don’t like JJ either.”

“When did I ever say that? JJ is a nice kid he just...” She trails off and you scoff.

“Y/N, please.” She pleads and you turn around and wave.

“Bye Mom, I’ll see you in a few days when you two decide to stop judging somebody based on their social status and the amount of money they have in their bank account. Oh wait, that’ll never happen.” You reply angrily before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

You go outside, scanning to crowd to try and find Kiara, whom you finally spot standing a little ways further down the deck.

“Hey, you alright?” She asks, seeing your annoyed face.

“Yeah, just ran into my mom in the bathroom. It’s fine, she was just being a bitch about the fight with my dad. Blaming it on me like always.” You shrug, turning towards the crowd until the door opens behind you and a familiar voice comes out of it.

You turn around, eyes widening as you watch JJ get pulled outside by the security guard, “Look man I can walk myself! I got legs. Can you see that, brother?”

He struggles against the guard, not even noticing Kie and yourself as he gets pulled past. He grabs a glass from an older man on the way, downing the alcohol inside of it. You cringe as he’s pulled through the crowd, causing a scene and turning all eyes towards him, including those of your father who still hasn’t spotted you.

“Let go of him!” Kiara yells and her parents rush to shush her as all the attention is on the two of you now, “You can’t just boot him!”

You and JJ lock eyes for a moment and you smile but he doesn’t return it and looks away instead. You frown, wondering how long he’s been out of jail and why he hadn’t contacted any of you sooner, and why he reacted that way when he saw you.

“I invited him here! I’m a member of this club!” Kie continues, shrugging off her parents who are desperately trying to get her to shut up.

JJ finally pushes off the guard and apologizes sarcastically before turning towards us, “Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie, Y/N. Pope, you as well. Rixon’s Cove, lets go.”

Kiara ignores her parents protests and the two of you bolt after JJ and John B as they run away from the party, Pope in tow. The five of you don’t stop running until you’ve reached your destination. You try to talk to JJ but he pretends not to hear you and instead works with John B to start a fire so you sit on a log next to Kie instead.

When the fire is started you smile and pat the seat next to you, hoping he’ll sit there but he sits next to John B and you try to ignore the hurt you feel after. He hasn’t said one word to me, did I do something wrong?

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even pay attention to the conversation until Kie nudges you slightly and leans in to whisper, “You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” You answer, looking towards John B who’s standing in front of the group going on about the Royal Merchant and his findings about the gold.

At one point you and JJ lock eyes again but he looks away once again.

“All we need it an original survey map of the property and we’ve found the gold.” John B exclaims excitedly and you watch as JJ walks over and throws his arms around him.

You angrily stand up and stomp away from the fire, sick of JJ’s attitude towards you tonight. You don’t know what you did but you’re not going to sit around and let him act like you’re not even there.

“Y/N? Where are you going?” Kie calls but you ignore her, continuing to walk until you get to the beach and find a nice large rock to sit on, staring up at the moonlight. A few moments later you hear footsteps and feel somebody sit next to you but you don’t look over, you already know who it is.

“Can we talk?” He asks and you hum in response, not paying any attention until he asks again more insistently.

“Oh so you’ve finally decided to acknowledge my presence after ignoring me all night?” You don’t know what you expected him to say but what comes out of his mouth next is far from it.

“I don’t think we should be together anymore,” He replies softly. Your heartbeat quickens as you stare back at him with wide eyes.

“JJ, why would you say that?”

“I’m not good for you Y/N. You’re beautiful and rich and you have your whole life ahead of you. I’m just some poor troublemaker who isn’t going to make it anywhere in life. You’re so much better than me. You deserve better than me. I can’t believe it took me this long to see that.”

“That’s not true JJ. It doesn’t matter where you come from, you CAN make it places in life if you believe you can. I don’t want anybody else, I don’t care who they are or what they think they can give me. I only want you.”

“You’re a kook and I’m a pogue. We aren’t meant to be together. We were bound to crash and burn at some point so we may as well get it over with. It’s best that we move on and date people from our own sides of the island.” He refuses to look at you now, staring out into the ocean as you shake your head profusely.

“It doesn’t work that way JJ and you know it. We can’t just move on and love somebody else just because you and I come from different worlds. Romeo and Juliet, remember?” You cry, referring to the nicknames Kie and the boys used to call you two when you first started dating. Tears began to stream steadily down your cheeks.

“Romeo and Juliet both died Y/N!” He yells, raising his voice for the first time, “They were stupid enough to love each other even though they knew they shouldn’t and they ended up dead and if we stay together the same thing will happen to us, except it’ll be the death of everything you could accomplish in your life and I’ll be the one pulling the trigger. Eventually I’ll end up pulling you down to my level and all of your hopes and dreams will die and you’ll be no better than me, a stupid, useless pogue with no purpose.”

“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re so much more than that to me. You’re my best friend JJ, the love of my life. I don’t want to live a life without you.”

The boy doesn’t say anything for a moment as your father’s words from this evening play over in his head. Don’t ruin her life. She’d be better off without you. End it before she pays the price for your mistakes. Finally he sighs, “Well you don’t really have a choice.”

“What do you mean? JJ please, I don’t want to loose you.” You pleaded softly as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Seeing you in this much pain physically broke JJ as he felt his heart break. He always vowed never to hurt you but now here he was doing the very thing he promised not to do. But he couldn’t ruin you, pushing you away now would save you from more pain later.

He could tell that you weren’t giving up without a push and with that thought in mind he opened his mouth and let the biggest lie he’s ever told fall from his lips, “You already have.”

“JJ,” You whispered helplessly as you watched the boy you love so much stand up and turn towards you.

“It’s true. I’ve been falling out of love for weeks but you were too stupidly in love with me to notice.”

“You don’t mean that.” You shook your head as more tears fell, “You’re just saying that to push me away.”

“No, I’m not. You’re so clingy, always up my ass, it’s exhausting. I’ve been mustering up the courage to end things but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, you know? I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would complicate things and make things awkward between everyone. I didn’t want it to get bad and make the others have to choose between us. I mean of course they’d choose me because I’m a pogue just like them but I didn’t want it to come to that point because I knew you’d have no friends then. You know I feel kind of bad for you actually. You’re so rich and privileged but yet none of the other rich kids like you so you resorted to being friends with pogues because you’re so pathetic that you can’t handle being alone.” With every word that came out of his mouth his heart broke more and more. Seeing the hurt on your face made him want to die. He opened his mouth to keep going but you stood up and held out your hand for him to stop.

“There’s no need to say anything else JJ, you made your point loud and clear.” Your voice was so quiet and broken that he could barely hear what you said, “I’m gonna go. Tell the others I’m sorry.”

As you turn and walk away JJ has to physically fight to urge to run to you and scoop you up into his arms and tell you that everything he’d just said was a lie. He wanted to apologize for all the vile things he’d just said and tell you how much he loves you but he didn’t.

As soon as you disappeared into the woods tears started to freely down his cheeks at a rate that they never had before as he angrily tugged at his hair, “Fuck!”

Thirty minutes later you stared up at the large house in front of you, debating about whether to go in. Tears stained your cheeks and you had to refrain from letting more loose as you replayed JJ’s harsh words in your head. You sighed and opened the large door, closing it behind you.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Your mother’s voice rang out as she appeared from the study.

“Where have you been?” Your father asked from behind her, “Off with your boyfriend again huh?”

“Dad I really don’t want to talk about it,” I reply softly, emotionally drained already, “I’m going up to bed. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

Neither one of your parents responded as they watched you climb the elegant staircase towards your room.

PART TWO

Can y’all believe that JJ is so hot that he brought me out of Tumblr retirement? 🥵 for real though, it’s literally been years since I’ve posted a fanfic on this app but after watching Outer Banks and falling in love with this blonde idiot I was inspired. I literally spent like three days working on this too so I hope y’all like it lmao

[yesmooshoe]

6) (i) from the AU list for ironhusbands? 👀💖

You’ve got a date tonight and you asked for advice on what to wear but I’m so in love with you and damn you look good in the outfit I picked out for you.

“Rhodey Rhodey Rhodey! I need help!” Tony cried out as he burst through the front door of their drafty apartment.

Rhodey’s head shot up to look at him, but he didn’t move from the nest he’d created on their couch. He was wrapped in several blankets with a few large stacks of books and notebooks surrounding him. Mid-Terms started next week, and he had a lot of material to get through.

As Tony stumbled over some of Rhodey’s books on his way into the living room, he finally noticed all of the shopping bags that Tony was carrying.

“Did you get a haircut?” Rhodey asked, seeing that his friend’s usually unkempt hair was freshly trimmed and styled.

“Yeah, and I got a bunch of new clothes. I have a date! An actual date! And all of my clothes are trash and I’ve got no idea what to wear so I went to the mall and just like bought everything that looked cool because I just really want her to think I’m cool.” Tony rambled as he dropped the bags to the floor and started tearing through them.

“Wait, hold up. You have a what?”

“A date!” Tony said with a big smile.

“With who?” Rhodey asked as he closed his book, realizing that this was going to be a thing. Tony didn’t date. If he wasn’t at the apartment he was either at class or in the robotics lab, and he didn’t really have any other friends.

Until this year, at least. Tony was 17 and finally the same age as some of his fellow classmates, so Rhodey had noticed him being a bit more social. Still, Rhodey felt very protective, and while he’d never admit it out loud, he kind of missed having Tony all to himself.

“Uh, Amy Lin? She’s a freshman! And she’s on the robotics team and she’s just super cool and smart and we were sitting outside today and she was like 'hey do you want to go out sometime?' and I was like 'what do you mean, we're already outside.' and then she laughed and was like 'no like...go out. On a date.' and I just felt like such an idiot and I didn't know what to say but eventually I managed to say yes I think and well now we're going on a date! And I have no idea what to wear, you gotta help me. Everything I own is ripped or has burn holes from welding or is covered in grease and who knows what else and I just want to look good."

Rhodey resisted the urge to tell him that he'd look good in a paper bag, and did his best to swallow his own jealousy before he started helping him look through the bags.

The crush on Tony was very new. 

Two years ago Tony had just been this quiet, nerdy kid who didn't know how to do his own laundry and was afraid of his own shadow. This year though? This year he was just different. Over the Summer he'd grown a few more inches, gotten his braces off, discovered contact lenses, and overall just came off as more mature and confident. Rhodey's jaw had literally dropped when he saw him for the first time at the beginning of the semester, and ever since then he'd been struggling with a lot of feelings.

"Uhh, ok. Well first of all, where are you going?" Rhodey asked as he pulled out item after item, which ranged from a leather jacket to a tuxedo, so he wasn't sure what the vibe was going to be.

"Bowling."

Rhodey just laughed. "You bought a brand new tuxedo to go bowling? Is that what you rich white people do?"

"I...I mean, I don't know. She mentioned maybe getting dinner at one point and I think I just panicked like what if she wanted to go somewhere fancy instead of bowling and all of a sudden and I just started grabbing everything I could possibly need." Tony explained, sounding a bit exasperated.

"Dude, take a deep breath. It's going to be ok."

"I know I just...I want to do everything right. I want her to like me, ya know?"

"She will! She already does. She asked you out, didn't she?"

"Yeah but...I don't know. I don't know what to do. I'm just not used to this. People liking me. I’ve always been so much younger than everyone at school and no one ever talked to me and I always just feel like I missed out on learning how to be a normal teenager. I don’t know how to date." Tony admitted, being way more candid about his feelings than Rhodey was used to.

"You don’t have to worry about that anymore. Just go out and have fun. Be yourself."

"I’m just afraid she’s going to see what a huge nerd I am and change her mind."

“You guys are on the robotics team. You’re both nerds. It’ll be fine.

“I just - 

“Tony.” Rhodey Interrupted. He hated when Tony got like this, and something in him just snapped. “Stop being so down on yourself. You’re funny and smart and sweet and you tell great stories and you’re so enthusiastic about your work and about learning new things so that you can change the world. You’re incredible. And I’m sorry that no one in your life has ever told you that before, but it’s all true and if she sees what I see then...then she’ll love you, ok?”

Tony was just staring at him like a deer in headlights, and Rhodey immediately knew that he’d said way too much. He just hated when Tony got like this, and he wanted him to just see how great he actually was. 

“Rhodey I…” Tony started, clearly unsure of what to say in response to that, and Rhodey’s stomach just dropped. Had he completely fucked this up? Had he made everything weird? There was nothing weird about telling your friend that you love him, right? Even if you did happen to have a huge crush on that friend? 

They were both silent for what felt like forever, though in reality it was only a few seconds.

“You’ll be fine. Anyway. So when is this date?”

Tony glanced down at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet her in 45 minutes.”

“Well, then we’d better get to work.” Rhodey said as he stood up and grabbed an armload of clothes.

They made quick work of it, just putting Tony in jeans, a red t-shirt, the leather jacket, and a fresh pair of Chuck Taylors. They were a little quiet at first, but soon they found their way back to the joking and teasing they were used to. As Tony stood in the hallway trying to fix his hair the way the lady at the hair salon had told him too, Rhodey just stood back and admired his work. There was nothing spectacular about the clothes, but they were new and clean and fit him well. And the leather jacket was driving Rhodey crazy. As he watched Tony from behind, he wanted nothing more than to grab him, pin him against the wall, and have his way with him.

There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t do that, especially since he was literally about to leave to go on a date with someone else. With a girl.

“How do I look?” Tony asked, spinning around and giving him a big smile.

“Great.” Rhodey replied simply, resisting the urge to say hot. He didn’t want to make anything else weird.

Tony seemed unsure, but looked at his watch again and took a deep breath. “Right. Well, I gotta go. Thank you. For everything. Don’t study too hard, all right?” He said with a little smile before taking one more look at himself in the mirror and then heading out.

Rhodey tried to focus on studying after that, but he just couldn’t. He was jealous, he was embarrassed, and most of all he was horny. He took care of the latter problem a few minutes after Tony left, but after that he just laid on his bed and started at a crack in the ceiling while a million thoughts raced through his head.

This crush on Tony was stupid. Tony obviously wasn’t gay, right? And being gay in the Air Force sounded like a not-so-great idea anyway, so Rhodey really had to work on resisting these crushes if he ever wanted the chance to fly. Still, he couldn’t get that image of Tony in the leather jacket out of his mind, nor could he get over how jealous he felt. 

He figured that the best way to get over it was to distract himself, so he got up, took a cold shower, ate some dinner, and settled in back on the couch to watch TV and wait for Tony to get home. Despite the jealousy, he wanted to hear about the date and how it went. He just wanted Tony to be happy, and if dating Amy made him happy, then he’d do his best to be enthusiastic about it. At least on the surface.

Not long after Rhodey settled on the couch Tony came home and immediately plopped down next to him.

“Hey, you’re home early. How’d it go?” Rhodey asked, genuinely shocked that he was home. It hadn’t even been two hours, and he was just glad that he hadn’t decided to jerk off again.

“Yeah, it was fine. I mean, I had fun. We bowled and had some pizza and then sketched up an idea on a napkin for a bowling robot that we might try to build next week.” Tony said as he stared at the floor while fidgeting around with his zipper. “And then like, we were in the arcade part. Playing pinball. And she kissed me.”

“Well hey! That’s good, right?”

“I don’t know. It was weird. I mean, I’ve never kissed anyone before so I’ve not got much to compare it too. But like, it was like kissing my sister. If I had a sister, I guess. I don’t know. Just didn’t do much for me.” Tony admitted quietly, and Rhodey had no idea how to respond to that. Luckily, Tony kept talking. “And then it was a little awkward and she said that she didn’t feel like bowling anymore so we turned in our shoes and then she said that she thought that maybe we should just be friends.”

“Oh. Well shit, that sucks man, I’m sorry. But this is only your first date, there are plenty of other girls out there! There’s even at least 1 more on the robotics team, right? I’m sure you’ll find someone that makes you feel that spark.” Rhodey said as he put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. He just didn’t want him getting too down on himself.

Tony just looked up at him and smiled, and it was a look that Rhodey would have to file away to use later. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s fine. She still wants to be friends, so that’s good. Friends are good. I’m gonna go change, ok?”

“Sure.”

Tony stood up to head to his room, but then stopped and hesitated for a moment.

“Tony? You all right?” Rhodey asked as Tony turned to look at him. He was quiet for a moment, like he was searching for what to say.

“Are you doing anything Friday night?” Tony finally asked.

“No.” Rhodey answered, confused.

“Do you - would you be interested in like - going out?”

“W-what?” Rhodey stuttered out as his heart started pounding. This wasn’t actually happening, was it?

“Go out? Like...on a date? I guess? Unless I read that whole situation earlier wrong.”

“I…” Rhodey just trailed off, completely taken by surprise by all of this. “Um. A date?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Uh...ok. Yeah. We can do that, if you’re sure.”

Tony nodded. “I’m sure. Been thinking about it all night.”

“Oh.”

“Ok, so. It’s a date, yeah? Dinner? Movie? I don’t know, that’s what people do, right?” Tony said as he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets.

“We’ll figure something out.”

Tony nodded again and turned to head to his room.

“Hey, Tony?” Rhodey called out after him, causing Tony to stop and turn to him. “Whatever we do, promise me you’ll wear the leather jacket.” Rhodey said with a confident little smile, finally regaining a bit of composure.

A huge grin spread across Tony’s face, like he was finally relaxing too. “All right.”

Rhodey was terrified, but also so excited that he couldn’t imagine focusing on his notes anymore. After Tony disappeared Rhodey ran straight to his room and to his closet, desperately looking through all of his clothing. Nothing seemed good enough, so he figured he’d have to take a trip to the mall himself tomorrow. He wasn’t sure he could look as good as Tony did in the leather, but he could certainly try.

[dcbutinamrev]

laurloch meeting for the first time perhaps?

Of course! Requests always open!

***

Eighteen-year-old John Laurens sighs as he stares up at the building before him. He presses his lips firmly together as he shifts his bag onto a comofortable position. He readies his hands, rubbing them together before finally gripping a brick from the wall in front of him and lifting his right foot. He reaches his left arm up an inch higher before finally fixing his right foot on the brick. Laurens stares at his goal a few feet above him: a ledge that connects to the brick building. This is where he usually sits in the early mornings or late evenings to clear his mind, to give himself some time for him and just relax.

Laurens grins as he grunts, shifting his body a little over to the left as he lifts his right foot and arm before shifting his body again over to the right as left foot moves up an inch, followed by the arm. His bag thumps against his back with each step he takes as he climbs the brick wall, his fingers burn against the bricks, his muscles straining. But his face remains determined and stern, his jaw clenched as he huffs and puffs.

Laurens glances over to his left where ledge connects and grins. Only a few inches now. Not feet. Laurens grimaces as he lifts his other foot up, fixing it into the brick, some chucks of the brick crumbling onto the streets of Geneva below him. The sun sizzles, causing Laurens to feel a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face and down towards his chin. There's a faint, cool breeze blowing by, but not enough to fully cool him. Birds crow in the distance and flap their wings across the clear, cloudless rich blue sky. People mill around the streets below him, some chatting and laughing, carriages being wheeled by horses, the wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets, the horses whinning as they come to a stop.

Laurens holds his place for a moment, trying to catch his breath as he glances down below him, watching the other citizens of Geneva go about their day, children laughing and squealing as they race down the sidewalks, chickens gobbling about as they chase after them, the dogs barking with their tails wagging. Men laughing as they sit in front of a tavern, holding out a glass of wine or beer, taking an unhealthy swing. Women in beautiful, flowy, colorful dresses ranging from pink to violet to blue to gold roam about the streets, some having their arm looped through their husbands as they walk or others just stand near the market, giggling discreetly as they eye something. Gossiping to one another.

Laurens rolls his eyes at them before continuing his task, huffing and puffing with each step he takes. Once Laurens has reached the ledge, he wraps his arm around the edge of the building before swinging his leg around so his back is pressed against the edge. Laurens huffs and puffs again, closing his eyes gently as he rests his forearm on his forehead, trying to catch his breath. Laurens opens his only to glance up at the sky, thankfully no where near the sun. Laurens pouts a little, his bottom lip puckering out.

"Wil it ever rain here?" Laurens grumbles to himself as he swings his bag around to place it in between his legs.

He unties it and rips it open, searching for his sketchbook, his ink pot and quill. He mutters a breathless, "Ah ha" when he finds it, zips the bag shut and leans against the edge. Laurens sighs, relieved now and he runs a hand through his honey colored hair, glancing down at the streets below him. Laurens eyes a couple of women chatting to one another lively, spies a couple of men laughing, some whistling to get their horses' attention. Laurens chews on the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows as he wonders which to sketch out.

Laurens brings his knees up to his chest and flips the book open, unscrewing the inkpot lid and dipping the tip of his feathered quill into the inkpot. Laurens bites his lip. He begins, as a warm up, to sketch his mother, a vivid vision he alway keeps in his mind. He starts off with her eyes, since those seem to be the easiest part for him. He frames out the irises and the pupils, the little dents for the bridge of the nose. Laurens frowns. His least favorite part or the one that's most difficult for him to sketch is the lips.

Laurens tips his head up to meet the sky again before sighing heavily and glancing back down at the paper before him. He chews on the corner of his lip as he draws a straight line with his quill. He refreshes his ink and draws a slight larger curve at the bottom of his mother's lip and a thinner curve barely visible for her upper lip. Laurens then defines her cheekbones before framing out her face. Once that task has been completed, he then does her neck and shoulders. He only does from the neck up. Laurens flicks his quill around as he does her hair, pulled up into a high bun with a few curls dangling in front of her ears. He creates some dots on her earlobes to show her earrings before creating her necklace next and some part of her dress.

Laurens sighs when he finishes, leaning back against the ledge and staring at his drawing, his chest squeezing as he remembers his mother. His sweet, beautiful, trusting, kind, caring mother who loved him more than the world. Laurens blinks his eyes and shakes his head before quickly flipping to the next page.

He glances down at the streets again, wondering who to draw next. Perhaps that woman over there with the purple hat and white feather in it? Or that man over there under the tavern with the rocking chair, his glass of wine in hand? Or those two children in the distanace playing what Laurens thinks is hopscotch.

"Hey!" a voice suddenly shouts, startling Laurens from his thoughts.

Laurens yelps, his book and quill fumbling around in his hands. He breathes fast in and out, his heart thumping as he holds his items to his chest. Laurens frowns, glacing around him with his brows furrowed together.

"Hey!" the voice calls again.

Laurens glances down as he sees a man perhaps around his age, maybe a year older with slick, dark brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, a black ribbon securing it and a tricorn hat perched on his head. He wears a dark blue coat with a navy waistcoat and tan colored breeches with stockings that come up to his knees, his black boots up to his shins. Laurens stares into his eyes: an emerald green, a beautiful shade of green. A green Laurens has never seen before.

His chest squeezes and his stomach twists.

"You! What do you think you're doing?" the man below him says, his voice distant as he places his hands on his hips. He raises an eyebrow.

Laurens doesn't say a word. He just stares into those eyes, his heart fluttering.

"Well?" the man presses. "Come on, now! What's your name, kid? You have family around? What are you doing up there? How the hell did you get up there?"

Laurens opens his mouth to say something, clutching onto his book close to his chest. His feels his cheeks becoming unusually warm.

"I..." Laurens begins, but he can't seem to find the words.

The man grins. "Come on down, now. You'll hurt yourself."

A pause.

"The name's Kinloch, by the way," the man--Kinloch--says. "Francis Kinloch."

Laurens swallows as he seems to relax, his tense shoulders slumping and he smiles wide.

"Laurens," he says. He clears his throat as he presses his lips together. "John...I'm...John Laurens..."

"My!" Kinloch gasps. "John Laurens?"

Laurens nods.

Kinloch grins. "Well, I've heard much about your father. An aspiring man he is. And he's lucky to have a son like you."

Laurens grimaces, though he tries not to show it. Yeah...lucky me...

"What are you uh...what are you doing here, kid?" Kinloch asks.

Laurens scratches the back of his neck. "Oh, um...my father sent me here to Geneva to search for schools. I'll be schooling here for a couple of years too."

"Really?" Kinloch gasps. "Well. I'm schooling here in Geneva."

"Really?" Laurens says, blinking his eyes.

Kinloch nods. "Yep. I'm uh...I'm at Eton."

"Me too," Laurens mutters, his voice feeble and shy.

Kinloch stares at Laurens for a breath before offering his hand. "Why don't you come on down? You'll hurt yourself and I don't want your father blaming me for his injured son."

Laurens couldn't help but giggle as he nods and packs his things away before he climbs on down. He grunts when his feet reaches the sidewalk, dusting his hands together as he turns around to face Kinloch. Kinloch freezes, his eyes widening as he sucks in a breath.

"Mr. Kinloch?" Laurens says after a moment of silence between them.

"My...Laurens...you have...such...such beautiful eyes..." Kinloch whispers. "A rich blue...blue as the sky. I've never seen eyes so beautiful and vibrant as yours."

Laurens feels his cheeks grow warmer as he shifts on his feet. "Um...I...I thank you, sir."

"Please, call me Francis," Kinloch says, extending his hand out. "A pleasure to meet your aquaitence."

Laurens smiles with his lips pressed together as he shakes Kinloch's hand firmly.

"Call me John."

Laurens sighs as he watches Kinloch turn around and guides him throughout the streets of Geneva, giving him the history of some of the buildings, telling him his childhood, about his future. But what Laurens finds most entrancing in Kinloch's apperance, are his eyes. That beautiful shade of green: not to light not to dark. Just right in the middle.

Laurens smiles and nods appropriately duringt he conversation. His heart flutters and his chest squeezes as Kinloch meets eyes with him or when he laughs or smiles.

Laurens doesn't understand this feeling, but he knows for certain that never in his life has ever been so helpless.

[avintagekiss24]

Hot for teacher [5] > Bucky Barnes

PAIRING; Dark!Professor!Bucky Barnes x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 6,693

WARNINGS; Age gap, teacher/student dynamics, smut, sex, oral sex (female receiving), spanking, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, mentions of blood, crying kink, nipple play, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, aftercare, biting/marking, squirting

SUMMARY; Your weekend with Mr. Barnes is in full swing.

NOTE; This took me forever. I’m sorry. Hopefully, all of the sex in this will make up for it! I’m thinking this is going to be the second to last part for reader and Mr. Barnes before this series is complete. I have some fun ideas that get set into motion in this part :). Happy reading!

Line separator by writeyourmindaway!

☞ PART SIX | ☞ SERIES MASTERLIST

FRIDAY.

1493 Trellis Place, you can park in the garage and come in through the kitchen

Can’t wait to see you

You’re still packing your bag when his text comes across your phone. A large smile cracks your face in two as you wiggle excitedly and throw open your closet. You don’t even know what to take, really. You don’t plan on being clothed for the entire weekend, but Mr. Barnes may have different plans for you. You grab a white and blue maxi dress and some white pumps (in case he wants to do something fancy), throwing them in your school duffel bag before you turn towards your dresser. 

You grab tank tops and booty shorts, a  few pairs of leggings - a girl should always have options - and your absolute favorite bras and panties. You toss your makeup bag and random toiletries - birth control pills, lotion, phone charger, wallet and a small bottle of perfume - on top of the pile of clothing before zipping it up and tossing the strap over your shoulder. With your phone in your hand and a switch in your hips, you head out of your on campus apartment and move towards your Lexus, the lights flipping on as you unlock the doors.

The drive is unexpectedly long. He lives out on the outskirts of town, in a sleepy, upscale neighborhood. You slow down to creep as you move through the neighborhood, passing by cobblestone houses covered in vines and shrouded by mature trees. Siri’s voice rings through the speakers minutes later, telling you that your destination is coming up on your left. It’s a cute little cottage home, set back off of the street. You pull into the driveway and park in the garage, next to his light blue BMW. 

You grab your stuff and move through the dark garage, knocking on the door leading to the house before pushing through the threshold. You're instantly hit by the smell of cooking food. You move through the small hallway and come out into an empty kitchen. You set your bag down in one of the bar stools as you glance around the open floor plan before you step towards the stove top. You peek into one of the pots, breathing in the aroma of shrimp and let out a soft moan. A pot of pasta simmers next to it while two steaks sit on a sheet pan, perfectly seasoned and waiting to be grilled. 

You jump and gasp when two arms wrap around your waist, but soon dissolve into laughter as he presses his lips to your cheek. 

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, nibbling on your ear as he rubs your hips, “Didn’t hear you come in.”

You turn in his hands and throw your arms over his shoulders, pecking him on his lips before you move in for a deeper, longer kiss. You moan and giggle as his fingers tickle at your sides. He palms your butt in his large hands before he slaps at it gently and points you towards the bar. You bite his bottom lip between your teeth before you take his suggestion to sit. You rest your chin in your palm as you watch him move around the kitchen, pulling out a red wine and pouring a glass before sitting in front of you.

“You don’t have to get me drunk, Barnes. I’m gonna fuck you either way.”

“Ha ha,” he laughs sarcastically, “Like I don’t know that already.”

You take a sip, moaning a little as you swallow, “Plying a teenager with alcohol could get you fired, you know.”

He laughs again as he places the steaks on the small, built in grill, “But fucking one won’t?” He asks, smirking all the while. 

You shrug, “Not in my estimation, no.”

He shakes his head at you as he sprinkles more seasonings onto the meat, “How are you feeling?” He asks softly, dropping his eyes from you for just a second. 

“Wonderful.” You answer confidently, smiling as you take another sip of wine. 

He cocks his head and narrows his eyes at you playfully, “Come on, drop the attitude please.”

“I don’t have an attitude.”

He smiles gently, “You don’t have to be like that with me. Not all the time.” 

You take a breath as you sit the wine glass back on the bar. You spin it slowly as you cock your head and blink back at him. He leans over the counter, taking a deep breath before he taps on your forehead.

“Are you okay here?”

You nod slowly, “I’m not a child.”

“I know that. I acknowledge that. I just want to make sure anyway.”

You take his hand in yours, bringing his fingers to your lips to kiss softly, “I’m okay.” You whisper, not wanting to admit that it’s kind of nice being able to relax your attitude, although briefly, “My pussy is sore,” you smile when he lets out a slight chuckle, “But I’m okay.”

His blue eyes bounce back and forth between your dark ones, “You’re sure?”

You smile slowly, kissing the tips of his fingers again, “Yes.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” He asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Yes! Jesus, did you study psychology too?”

He bops your nose with his finger before he moves back to the small grill, “I have a friend who teaches psychology at Yale, maybe I picked something up from him.”

“Oooh,” you sing as you take another sip of your wine, “He sounds very sexy.”

Bucky cuts his eyes back towards you, “Stop it.” You laugh, prompting him to chuck a piece of shrimp at you as he smiles widely, “There is nothing sexy about Steve Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers? I love that name.” Your eyes widen suddenly, “Does he have his Doctorate? Is he Dr. Steve Rogers? Ugh, that’s hot.”

You wiggle your eyebrows as he stares back at you, his eyes squinted, his lips pursed, “What?” you ask innocently, “I’m totally not thinking about screaming out Dr. Rogers as he spanks me over his desk. Totally not.”

“You like doing this to me, do you?”

“What’s that, Mr. Barnes?”

“Making me jealous.”

You nod enthusiastically, “What gave me away?”

----------

This is possibly the best date you’ve ever had. You laugh wildly as you see just how nerdy he is as he recounts stories from his high school and college days. You didn’t realize how nice it would be to see him outside of school, to see him so relaxed and in his own space. It makes you relax - enables you to let your guard down, which is also really nice. It’s so nice, that you don’t even complain when he cuts you off after your second glass of wine and insists that you have water for the rest of the evening. 

You help him with the dishes once you’re both finished and let him take you by hand and lead you slowly through the house, giving you a small tour. 

“And this,” he says as he pushes through the door to his bedroom, “Is my room.”

You walk in in front of him, your eyes roaming over the spacious room. It’s a bachelor’s room for sure, the color scheme very dudeish, the large King sized bed the focal point of the room. You plop down onto the soft mattress, smoothing your hand over the dark blue bedspread as you glance over the flat screen TV hanging from the wall. Three large bay windows cover the wall to your left that give a great view of his sprawling backyard, complete with a Jacuzzi and pool. 

You jump off the bed and peek into the bathroom, smiling slowly as you find it everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Marble floor, a walk in shower and a garden tub, his and her bowl sinks sitting on the counter. 

“Mr. Barnes,” you start as you move back into the room, “A girl could certainly get used to this.”

He chuckles, “Good. I was a little worried you’d stick that rich little nose up in the air at my humble abode.”

You click your teeth, “No, I only do that to Cher, thank you.”

“Let’s not talk about her,” he titters, rolling his eyes as he walks up to you, “Let’s talk about getting you out of these clothes.”

You let out a soft breath as his nimble fingers start popping the buttons of your shirt. You keep your eyes on him and bite your bottom lip as he undoes each and every one before he pushes the white cotton shirt off of your shoulders. He crushes his chest into yours as he reaches behind your back with just one hand, unclasping your bra in one swift motion. 

He walks his fingers up your arms and over your shoulders as he leans in and sucks on your neck. Your eyes instantly close as you go kind of limp, letting your head roll to the side as you hum. He slips your bra straps down your arms and lets it fall to the floor between your feet. He lifts your arms and places them over his shoulders before he lifts you right from your feet. He carries you to the bed and lays you down, his hand behind your head, guiding you back onto the pile of pillows. 

He climbs on top of you and straddles your waist, keeping his mischievous eyes on you as he slowly undoes the buttons on his shirt. You push up onto your elbows, hungry to see his skin, to feel it against yours for the first time. He tosses it to the floor and you instantly reach forward, grazing your fingers over his chest and stomach. You lean forward and plant a kiss on his stomach, and then another, and another as you slide your hands along his back. 

You hear him chuckle again and you send your eyes back to his, smiling gently as he stares down at you. He cups your face in his hands and slides his thumb back and forth over your bottom lip and you couldn’t feel any better about yourself. You love being the apple of his eye - his perfect little princess. 

He works himself out of pants and pushes you back onto the mattress. He flattens his body on top of yours and attaches his lips back to your neck, kissing a trail between your breasts and down your stomach, right to the start of your skirt. He pulls away to lift each leg and remove your pristine white sneakers, dropping each one to the floor with a thud. He pulls at your skirt, unzipping the side zipper before he helps wiggle you free of it.

“Have I told you how much I like these?” He wonders aloud as he runs his fingers over your thigh high Adidas socks, “I don’t think I have. I really like these.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Barnes.” you answer, your voice sweet and thick. 

He grips your thighs, kneading your flesh before he spreads your legs. He settles between them as he flicks his eyes back to yours and rubs his prickly cheek against the inside of your thigh. You hiss at the friction, the soft sensation that ripples through your legs, making you tense suddenly. He drops a kiss just to the inside of your knee before he pushes his face to your sex, taking a deep breath to inhale your scent. 

You push your hips into him, encouraging him to touch you. You bite your lip again as he pushes his nose against your clit, the only thing between your flesh and his is your thin, wet panties. Within seconds, your panties join the rest of your clothing on the floor and your feet are dangling by his ears. 

You slam your eyes shut as he pushes his tongue through your folds before wrapping his lips around your clit. He sucks gently as his fingers skirt back to your breasts, grabbing your thick nipples. You push your hips into his face as he laps at your opening before pushing his tongue inside of your cunt. You grab his hand that covers your breast and roll your body as he devours you, flicking his tongue against the bundle of nerves at your center before he sucks your folds into his mouth. 

You push your hand into his short hair, balling it in your fist as you buck your hips into his wonderfully skilled mouth. He kisses you quickly before he climbs up your body and crashes his lips to yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself. His kiss is hard and deep as he moans into you, his erection pushing against your sex. 

“How do you taste, Ms. Prescott?”

You exhale softly as your head swims in arousal and a dreamy haze, “Like sugar.”

“Mmmm,” he moans as he pushes his cock inside of you, making you gasp with the sudden intrusion, “You’re goddamn right, baby girl. You taste just like sugar.”

Your muscles ache as the dull soreness from your first encounter rips through you. It hurts - but it’s sweet. It’s a feeling you wish you could keep forever. You dig your fingernails into his forearms as he hovers over you, his mouth going slack, his eyes closing to slits as he gets used to the tightness of your pussy. You lean up and kiss him hard as you start to move your hips, pushing him deeper into you before he slides out just a bit. You lay back down and wrap your legs around his waist, still gripping his forearms in your hands.

You squeal loudly when he thrusts hard into you, this time not taking a second to breathe. He slams into you over and over and over, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. You slam your head back on the pillows as he fucks you, ripples of pain quickly followed by rushes of intense pleasure coursing through your body. Just the thought of your pussy spreading for him, stretching out, just for him, makes you tense suddenly - your cunt squeezing him tighter. 

He falters - a deep groan slipping through his lips, “Christ,” he mumbles as he drops his head, leaning down to kiss you quickly. 

You squeeze your legs around his sides as he buries himself inside of you. The ache starts to bloom in your stomach after only a few minutes and rushes fast, much faster than the first time. You tense hard as your orgasm floods through your body seconds later. You dig your fingers into his skin as your thighs shake and your hips jerk up into his. 

He pulls you up and positions you in his lap as he sits indian style, “Oh no,” he starts as he nibbles on your lip, “I’m not finished with you yet, princess.”

He wraps your arms around his shoulders as he bounces you up and down on his dick, fucking you right through your orgasm. Muffled, jumbled words fall from your lips as you convulse, holding onto him for dear life. You drag your hands back through his hair, bunching it in yours hands as your bouncing tits graze against his hard chest. He fucks up into you without a care in the world - his lips curling into a wondrous smile as he tilts his head up towards you, just so he can watch you squirm. 

His fingers play with the ends of your braids, pulling gently at first but steadily adding more and more pressure until your head is craned towards the ceiling. You moan loudly as you bounce in his lap, flares of your orgasms still sparking within you. He crushes his chest to yours as his hot, wet lips press against your collar bone. He kisses up to the crook of your neck, his tongue darting out to swipe across the soft, sensitive skin before he bites down suddenly. 

You yelp as a sharp pain tears through you. You lean back, using your fingertips to hold on to his shoulders as his dick somehow starts to hit deeper than before. He leans forward and licks a path between your breasts before he circles your nipple, flicking his tongue against it. He takes your tit into his mouth, sucking hard as his hips continue to crush into yours. You fling your body back into his as you start to cum again. Your head falls back on your neck as you screech, your hands gripping his back as you melt around him. 

You start to feel a warmth ooze into you, Bucky’s cum filling your wet, sore cunt. He pushes his hips hard - fucking up into you with each spurt. You feel his cock jerk inside of you as he cums, his hand wrapping around your throat. You can barely hold yourself up, and you start to sway as your orgasm recedes back deep within you. 

He lets you fall back onto the mattress, his hands helping you down. Your eyes are heavy, your breaths hard, your body limp as he pulls out of you. You feel his weight shifting on the mattress and then his fingers between your folds, rubbing you gently. You jump when his lips press to the inside of your thigh, leaving behind sweet little kisses as he slips two fingers into your achy pussy. 

You whine instantly, rolling your hips as his fingers push against your sore muscles. He keeps his pace slow and his strokes gentle as he fingers you, shushing you all the while. He presses his thumb against the bundle of nerves at the apex of your hips and brushes his cheek and chin against your thighs. 

“You are such a good girl,” he whispers, “Taking all of me like that.” You roll your head and body, hissing and almost on the verge of tears from the stimulation, “Okay baby, okay,” he whispers, stopping his gentle assault with his fingers. 

He keeps his digits buried inside of you as he kisses up to your stomach, down the creases of your your legs, over your hot sex and back to your thighs. He finally pulls out of you and crawls over your spent body and settles on his side next you. 

He palms the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip before he leans in to kiss you again - soft and slow. His fingers slip down to your breasts, sweeping over your nipples before he palms them both, squeezing gently before he kisses each one.

“These are beautiful,” he whispers as he brushes the tips of his fingers between your breasts, “My pretty girl.”

You start to shiver slightly, from the cool air rushing from the ac and the light brushes of his fingertips over your skin. He brushes his large palm over your face, leaning it to place another gentle kiss at the corner of your mouth. He slides his hands underneath your limp body and lifts you, cradling you to him as he carries you into the bathroom.

“Wherewegoin’?” you slur as you hear a stream of water start to rush. 

“Bath time,” he says softly, keeping you in his arms as he adjusts the water temperature, “You got blood all over me.”

You nuzzle into his chest as your cheeks start to flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He says sternly, not wanting you to be ashamed, “It’s perfectly normal. Okay?” You nod quickly, “You have something for your hair?”

“My bag.”

He sits you on your feet on the soft mat just outside of his shower. He keeps his hand on your back until you steady yourself before he pulls away and disappears from the bathroom. He reemerges minutes later, your flower patterned shower cap and a scrunchy in his hand. He sweeps your braids over your shoulders before he pulls it up into a tight bun. He peeks over your shoulder as he lowers the cap over your head, making sure every strand is covered sufficiently before he lifts you again. 

You hiss a little when the heat of the water hits your sensitive skin. He sits your back on your feet gently and adjusts the water, his chest flat against your back until he sees you relax underneath the forceful stream. He plucks the detachable wand from the wall and sweeps it over your chest and shoulders, along your back and then back around your waist and stomach.

He flattens his hand on your stomach as he pushes the wand lower, down to your achy sex and thighs. You watch as the water mixes with your blood as it pushes down your legs and swirls around the drain before it disappears. He reattaches the wand and reaches for his loofah, squeezing a dollop of body wash onto it before he starts to wash you. 

He starts at your collarbones with a circular motion. He sweeps over each breast and then underneath them, wanting to clean every crevice of you. He moves down to your stomach, around each thigh before he kneels to clean your calves and feet. You turn and lean against him as soon as he stands, wrapping your arms around him as he washes your back and shoulders. 

You separate from him for only as long as it takes him to wash his own body before you fall back into him, the warmth of the water and him radiating through you. The water turns off, but before the cool air can chill your skin, you’re wrapped up in a fluffy, tan towel. He pushes his hands up and down your back and arms a few times before he reaches for his own and towels off quickly - leaving droplets of water on his shoulders and chest. He throws it over his head and roughly dries his hair before discarding the towel to the floor.

He takes you by the hand and leads you back into the bedroom, pointing you towards the bench in front of his bed. He starts stripping the it in all of his nakedness, moving around you as he covers the mattress in a fresh, clean pair of pale blue sheets. Once he’s finished, you’re lifted again and stripped of your towel before you’re laid down, flat on your back. He rummages through your bag, finding your lotion and squirts some into the palm of his hand. He rubs the natural moisturizer into your skin, paying acute attention to every inch of your skin before he flips you over onto your stomach to repeat his actions. 

You’re half asleep when you feel his weight press into the mattress again. The room is dark now with only a soft light from the muted tv. The curtains are drawn, the house locked up tight as he pulls you into his body, crushing his chest into your back as he positions you on your side. You feel his fingers brush over your shoulder as he pushes your hair over it - his dick hardening and pushing into your ass as he pushes a leg between yours. 

You gasp hard when he slips into you again, your eyes fluttering as your pussy spreads from him once more. He pushes his hips softly into yours as he cups your breasts in his large palms, his lips pressing against your arm. He nibbles and bites as he fucks you for the third time of the day, nice and slow, until you’re quivering from another orgasm, hot tears streaming down your face as you’re overcome by all of the stimulation again. 

He presses sweet, slow, warm kisses down your spine as you calm down, lulling you into the best night of sleep you’ve ever had.

----------

SATURDAY.

The clock hanging from the patio flips to two fifteen pm. Your hair is pulled into another bun as you push through the water of his swimming pool. You’re still in the shallow end, standing on your tiptoes as you sip on a fruity cocktail he’s supplied you with and admiring the cute amazon, same day delivered bathing suit he bought for you last night after you fell asleep. You cut your eyes back towards him as he moves out onto the patio again, a plate full of cheese, fruit, crackers, and slices of meat.

You watch with a slight smirk on your face and the small glass pressed against your lips as he moves towards the pool and steps onto the first step, and then the second, before he’s waist deep. He sits the plate of food on the edge of the pool and takes a swig of his beer before he pops a small square of cheese into his mouth. You move over to him, latching onto his back and wrapping your long legs around his waist as you reach over his shoulder to grab a grape. 

“How’s your drink?”

“Mmm,” you hum as you chew up the grape before piling a cracker high with thinly sliced salami and a square of muenster cheese, “Super good. Strawberry margaritas are my favorite.”

“Says every teenage girl ever.”

You giggle, but playfully swat at his shoulder as he twists in your arms to face you, “You’ve entertained many teenage girls, have you?”

“Of course not.” He answers, furrowing his brows at the insinuation. You scoff and roll your eyes as he pushes you both deeper into the water, “I haven’t, you’re the first.”

Your eyes wander his face as a sense of pride swells in your chest, “Really?”

“Really. I used to have morals. My career meant something to me.”

“And it doesn’t now?” You laugh. 

“It does, but if anybody finds out about us, I’m royally fucked. I’ll never work again.”

You flatten your forehead to his and rub noses before you kiss him quickly, “Nobody is gonna find out, I promise.”

He takes the opportunity to scoff himself, “I mean it. Listen, with as much weed and coke that Peter sells to the students and the faculty of that place, he’d be the first to know if there were any rumblings. He’d shut that shit down quick.”

Mr. Barnes quirks his eyebrow, “Oh, would he now?”

“Stop it,” you say, clicking your teeth, “It’s nothing like that. He and I just go way back, is all. His dad works with mine. He watches my back, I watch his.”

“And Cher?”

You roll your eyes again, “She who shall not be mentioned has entirely too much dirt on her to rock the boat with any sort of accusations. She’d be finished at that school, she can’t afford that.” You take another sip of your margarita as he stares back at you, his eyes searching yours, “I mean it! You’re safe, I promise.”

“I suppose,” he sighs, “Plus, I don’t think I could give you up if I had to, your pussy is too good.”

”Ugh,” you toss your head back as he presses his fingers against your sex, “I’m so sore.” You laugh.

“Don’t say that,” he warns, pressing harder, “It turns me on.”

You groan, but it’s mixed with a laugh. You need a break, but you also want him to ravish you again, becoming quite accustomed to the feeling of his cock keeping you full. He twirls you around in the water, his fingers splayed over your back. You throw your arms over his shoulders and cock your head as you gaze back into his deep blues. You kiss him slowly, moaning at how much you like the feeling of his lips on yours. 

You push your tongue into his warm mouth and let it explore - pushing up to the roof of his mouth before sliding it along his own. You suck on his tongue lightly before you bite down on his bottom lip suddenly, drawing a hiss from him. 

“Feisty for somebody who’s begging for a break.” 

You shrug before finishing off your margarita, “I can take whatever you wanna give, Professor Barnes.”

“Such a champ,” he answers, wiggling his eyebrows, “Can I confess something?” He asks as his fingers push into your bottoms to cup your ass. 

“Of course.”

He brings his lips to your ear, “I like making you cry.” He whispers, “I like seeing you so vulnerable and almost... weak. That’s not a side of you that you like to show very often. Makes me feel like you trust me.”

“I do trust you.” 

You feel his cock twitch at your words.

He smirks back at you, “Looks like you aren’t catching a break today, Ms. Prescott.”

“Works for me.”

“Tell me,” he starts, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your behind as he starts moving towards the steps, “What’s something you want to try in bed?”

“Exactly that.” you laugh as you bounce with each of his steps.

“What?”

“I want you to spank me as you finger my pussy.”

“Good God,” he laughs as he steps out of the pool, water splashing onto the ground from his trunks, “You didn’t even have to think about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since I was fifteen! I’ve just finally found someone to do it with.”

He collects his beer and moves to one of the chairs underneath one of the large pool umbrellas, setting you on your feet before he plops down. He pulls you over his lap without another word and pulls your bottoms over your ass and down your legs. You hear him take a swig of his beer before he sits it down next to his chair. He smooths his hands over your bare, damp skin, kneading it gently before he levels a quick slap, jolting your forward. 

You push a hard breath out of your mouth as he starts to rub your skin again. He smacks you again, and then a second time on the other cheek in quick succession. You moan as your pussy starts to throb, becoming slick. He pushes a hand between your legs and presses his fingers against your flesh, rubbing big, slow circles against your sex. He spanks you again and you grunt, wiggling your hips as you push your ass higher into the air. 

He slides his fingers between your wet lips, coating his fingers with your slick before he slides them inside of your cunt, pushing as deep as he can. He spanks you again and again and again, each one harder than the one before as he fingers curl inside of you. He fucks your tingly pussy with his thick digits as you beg for more - beg for him to spank you harder, faster, as you push back into his oncoming hand. 

He obliges every one of your requests - until you’re squirting all over his lap. Your ass is hot and tingly, your clit convulsing, your pussy quivering around his fingers as he fucks you right through the intense orgasm. Once you’ve calmed, he withdraws from you and goes back to soothing your irritated, burning skin, picking up his beer and swallowing the golden liquid slowly. 

He pulls you upright in one swift, fast motion, making you slightly dizzy. He tilts your head back and brings the rim of his beer bottle to your lips and tips it slowly until a steady stream pours into your open mouth. You guzzle it down, not caring that some dribbles down your chin and onto your chest. When he pulls it away, you wipe crudely at your lips with your fingers before you grab his hand and shove his sticky fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. 

He slips his trunks down his hips, just enough to spring his cock free. You wrap your hand around him and stroke him gently before you straddle his waist. You feel his hands on your back as you guide him towards your entrance, sitting down on him slowly. You let out a soft breath as you wiggle slowly, adjusting your insides to his size. He undoes the string of your bikini top and tosses it to the ground as you start to move on top of him. He grabs his beer and takes another swig as you ride him, his eyes on your tits as they jiggle and bounce. 

The two of you lose the afternoon fucking on his patio underneath the shade of one of his large pool umbrellas. Once you’re spent, thoroughly fucked and sore to the point where you can barely move, he feeds you random pieces of fruit and little cracker sandwiches piled high with meat and cheese. He hydrates you with an ice cold bottle of water, tilting it to your lips and letting you drink before he pours a little over your chest to help cool down your hot skin. 

He carries you inside after a while and bathes you slowly in his garden tub, before he lays you out on his bed in all of your nakedness to let you nap as he starts dinner. This is turning out to be the best weekend of your fucking life.

----------

SUNDAY.

You lurch forward with each of his strokes, your head craned towards the ceiling as he pulls on the ends of your braids. You grip the sheets in your hands as he fucks you from behind - his hand gripping your side so hard that he just might leave bruises behind. Not that you mind - you’ll have a terrible time trying to cover all of the others he’s splattered across your flesh over the weekend. 

You peek over your shoulder and catch him watching the connection between the two of you. He watches your body swallow him up, the jiggle of your ass when it slams against his stomach, and then the reappearance of his cock before he’s buried deep in you again. You squeeze your pussy tight around him, wanting him to be the first to come for a change. He slaps your behind - a stern warning - but you don’t relent, you just keep on squeezing, keep on slamming back into him until he can’t stand it any longer. 

His grunts are loud and deep as he spills into you. He tightens the grip on your hair, pulling hard as his cock spits over and over, filling you up to the brim. You feel his spunk spill back out of your fucked pussy and slide down the inside of your thigh. 

He flips you over onto your back and slaps at your thighs, wanting you to keep them open. He pushes his cock through your folds, the tip of him tickling your clit. He pushes his knees into the backs of your thighs and rubs your clit with the pads of his fingers before he slaps at it gently. He replaces his fingers with his dick, slapping it against you as his free hand reaches up to fondle one of your nipples. 

He rolls your thick skin gently between his fingers, and then pinches and tweaks it as he continues to slap his dick against your sensitive bud, pushing you closer and closer to another release. He releases your nipple to slip his hand between your legs to push them just inside of you - fingering your wet hole. He slaps his dick against your bud a few more times and a geyser erupts from you. Your entire body shakes with your orgasm as you spew your sweet juices all over his stomach. 

He continues to tease you, patting your clit with his fingers until he’s sucked every last drop from you. You cover your face with your arm as you pant, your body jerking involuntarily as random sparks of electricity bounce through you. Mr. Barnes slips his hands through your tits, flattening and spreading his fingers along your skin as you bite down into your bottom lip. 

“Jesus,” you mutter.

“That’s what you get, naughty girl.” He says, falling onto the mattress beside you.

He pulls you on top of him, and you nuzzle into his chest and neck, dropping sloppy kisses to his jaw and throat, “I’ll be naughty a little more often then.”

“You’re such a brat.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your back. 

“You love it.” You mumble, placing one last kiss to the middle of his chest before you settle down into his warm body again.

You close your eyes as he starts to stroke your back with his finger tips, up and down, up and down, up and down your spine in a slow rhythm. You drift off after a few minutes, not sure how long has passed when you suddenly pop your eyes back open. You rub your face as you shift on top of him, glancing up to see his glasses adorning his face one again as he taps on his phone. 

“Who are you talking to?” you ask absentmindedly, placing your head back on his chest.

“Cher.”

You snap your head up, pushing away from his chest as your eyes narrow. His body starts to shake with laughter underneath you. You scoff loudly and start to roll off of him, but he stops you, grabbing your wrist to hold you still. 

“Oh, relax! Learn how to take a joke.”

“I can take a joke, asshole,” you hiss back, “She is no joking matter.”

He chuckles as he forces you to lay back down on him and tosses his phone to the other side of the bed, “Remember my buddy Steve I was talking about?”

You huff, but cuddles back into him, “Dr. Sexy, I remember.”

“Stop it,” he says, pinching your side playfully, “Anyway, they’ve got visits coming up. I was asking if they were full yet, in case you wanted to check them out.”

You perk up again, “Really?”

“Ummhmm. Is Yale on your list?”

“Of course it is! Yale, Harvard, Dartmouth, Princeton - Cornell and Brown as backups.” You start to kiss all over his face, over his eyes and nose, lips and cheeks as he chuckles, “You’re incredible.”

“Oooh,” He bucks his hips into yours playfully, “I like the sound of that. He’s gonna put you on the list. He also let me know that there’s an opening for a Philosophy Professor in the fall.”

You gasp, sitting up right and drumming your fingers against his broad, shapely chest, “Are you gonna apply?”

He shrugs as he gazes up at you, “I kinda like teaching you privileged assholes.”

Your face falls as you poke out your bottom lip, “But we’ll be so far away from each other. You’ll probably start fucking somebody else next year and forget all about me.”

“You’ll do the same.” He laughs, “You’ll fuck Steve and won’t even remember my name.”

You slap at his chest, making him laugh again, “I will not. Well, I mean,” you toss your eyes towards the ceiling, “I’ll fuck him, yeah, but I won’t forget about you.” 

He pinches your sides again and you squeal, squirming away from him as you fill the room with laughter, “Come on, apply for it. Pwease?” You beg, “It’ll be fun going off to a new school together.”

He smiles up at you as he pushes his hands up and down your thigh, “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll convince you.” You say confidently, nodding slowly.

“Will you now?”

“Yes.” You answer simply.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he pulls you back down to his chest, “Time for bed, Ms. Prescott. We’ve got school tomorrow.” He says, flipping off the lamp and taking a deep breath, “What time do you want me to wake you tomorrow?”

“Same time you get up. That’ll give me time to suck you off in the shower.”

He chortles again, “That’s one way to get the day started.”

“Well, you know what they say, don’t you?”

“No, Ms. Prescott. What do they say?”

“Cock is the most important meal of the day.”

He laughs loudly as he squeezes you to him, planting a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve got to be the luckiest man on the planet.”

“Indeed you are, Professor.”

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow: day 5

Character A and Character B are co-workers, but they barely know each other. But they both have to work through the holidays,, percabeth

Annabeth finds herself staring out the window in front of her desk instead of doing any actual work. She’s been trying to pay attention to the glowing computer in front of her, but she’s accepted the fact that it’s not going to be happening tonight.

She’s too entranced by the snow that is falling outside. It’s a magical sight on Christmas Eve, with the colorful lights of Central Park that she can see from out the window, and the families moving around together. She’s always loved living in the city, but days like this make her fall in love with it all over again.

Her attention is brought back to inside the building as someone coughs. It brings her mood back down as she is reminded that she’s stuck here on the one night that she wants to be home. She didn’t have to work, but she was already struggling to get by and really needed the money.

She sighs, looking back at her computer. She’s not entirely sure what report she’s writing up, but she supposes she has all night to figure it out, and–

Someone coughs again, much more insistent, and she stiffens. The last thing she needs is to get sick, but the coughing persists from right behind her.

She turns in her chair slowly, eyes seeking out them out. She finds a guy she recognizes staring at her from the desk behind her, and she blinks. “Do you need something?”

His mouth drops slightly. “Uh– no.”

With that, she tries to turn back around, but then he seems to choke on his own air.

“What?”

He searches for words, but then all he can come up with is, “I’m bored.” “I’m sorry?” Annabeth is only slightly annoyed, but she is much more amused now because he’s looking at her pleadingly, but she doesn’t have the slightest clue as to what he’s asking her.

“I really don’t want to work anymore,” he says. His green eyes seem to stare into her soul, and it reminds her of the lights right outside the window in front of her. She is tempted to look back outside, to see if his eyes were brighter than the lights, but she restrains. “I get that,” she says, “but I don’t see what you want me to do.”

“Come steal snacks from the break room with me.”

“And get fired? No thanks.”

“There’s like five people here, and none of them care.”

“Do you even know me?”

He shrugs. “I know you’re least likely to kill me out of everyone here. They all have, like, kids and families so they won’t have fun. But it’s Christmas! Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“It means we have to drink all the eggnog and get drunk, so come on.”

He doesn’t leave her much time to consider it before he’s hopping out of his chair and walking down the quiet corridors. Annabeth is smart enough to know that it’s probably not the smartest idea to get drunk at work, but if she doesn’t get caught, then she’s fine. And if she does get caught, it means she can quit this job that causes her physical pain. There’s no losing, she figures, so she gets out of her own chair, lightly chasing after him.

She catches up as he’s rounding a corner, and she looks around at the empty desks, one or two with people looking as miserable as she’s sure she looked. It’s kind of creepy working so late because the lights are all off, the only things glowing being people’s computers. It all has an eerie vibe to it, and if she wasn’t with this person she still doesn’t know the name of, she would not be caught dead walking around by herself.

He leads her into a breakroom on another floor, flicking the lights on. She blinks as her pupils adjust, and then she’s standing there as he goes to pull something out of the fridge.

He holds it up above his head like he is about to sacrifice it to the gods. “Eggnog!”

She just nods slowly. “You brought alcohol to work.”

“It’s not possible to do this job without being wasted,” he says.

“I do.”

“I’m sure your life is miserable.”

Well, he isn’t wrong.

He begins to pour the drink into two separate paper cups that she’s sure the company picked up from the dollar store. As he hands it to her, she has to say she doesn’t think she’s ever seen people drink out of paper cups. And as she sits onto the couch beside him that is pushed up against the wall, she is reminded that she still doesn’t know his name.

She takes a deep gulp of the eggnog. “What even is your name?”

“I’m not sure I should tell you. You might tell the boss I get drunk at work.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m Percy. Please don’t report me.”

“I’m Annabeth. I’m going to report you.”

Percy just gives her a lopsided smile, like he can sense the lie. “Seeing as you’re going to get drunk with me, I think I can report you back.”

“Hm.”

They fall into a silence just long enough for it to become awkward. While she doesn’t hate him, she still doesn’t know him either, and there is not anything she can think to say in this moment. Instead of speaking, she takes this time to look at him. His eyes are trained on something in the distance, so she gets to take in his face, his hair, his torso without judgement. She finds that she quite likes what meets her eyes.

“So,” Percy starts, turning his attention back to her. She quickly averts her eyes. She doesn’t know if he caught her staring, but he doesn’t say anything if he did. “How’s life?”

She snorts, taking another sip. “Not great.” “That’s simply not an acceptable answer. It’s Christmas, so life must be spectacular.”

“You caught me. I’m just faking my awful life. I’m secretly rich and am only speaking to a peasant like you to blend in.”

He touches over his heart. “How sweet.”

“Unlike this eggnog,” she says, lifting it to her nose like she was an eggnog connoisseur. “What did you put in this?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I just put enough of every drink ever so that when you blackout, you see God.”

“Oh.” She shrugs, gulping down the rest. “Sounds good.”

Percy smiles, and she suddenly feels the rush of heat down her back. She isn’t sure if it’s from the alcohol taking quick effect or something else. She holds out the cup for a refill and brings it back to her lips.

“Careful,” he says, “Drink too much and it really will knock you right out.”

“At least you’re here with me to get caught by D in the morning.”

“Serious question. Do we know what D stands for?”

“Dick?” she offers.

“Yes.”

Annabeth shakes her head fondly as she kicks off her shoes so that she can curl her socked feet underneath her. Despite the heat that has been trickling down her spine each time he gives her a look, the building is actually really cold. She shivers slightly, and Percy frowns.

“Are you cold?”

“Only a tiny bit,” she lies.

Percy sets down his drink like it was his prized possession before he pulls his sweater over his head. He doesn’t even give her time to protest before he’s chucking it at her.

“This is your jacket,” she says, tossing it back.

“I’m not cold,” he says, shoving it back to her.

“You’re seriously going to let a stranger wear your jacket?”

“We’re hardly strangers now, Annabeth. We’re best friends.”

“Oh, wow. That’s a big jump.”

“Yes, well, we’re drinking eggnog on Christmas together, so.” With that, Percy pouts his lower lip. “Please put it on?”

He looks so cute like that that she can’t resist. She gives Percy her drink to hold as she wrestles it on, and she nearly sighs in its warmth. She can still feel the body heat from Percy, and it’s surprisingly not as weird as she would’ve thought. It smells really good too, reminding her of the breeze at a beach, of a stormy night, and now, of him.

“Better?” he asks smugly.

She pulls the sleeves to over her fingers. “Shut up.”

“So, Annabeth, tell me about yourself.” He nudges her knee with his foot. “Why are you working overnight on Christmas?”

She shrugs. “Needed the money.”

“No one to go home to?”

“Other than family I’d rather not see? No.”

He gives her a sympathetic glance. “No one special?”

“You mean an extraordinarily sexy, funny, smart husband?” She laughs incredulously. “Absolutely not.”

“Today’s your lucky day! I know just the person for you. They check off all of those qualities.”

“Who?” she asks, disbelieving. “Me!”

She blows a raspberry in his face.

“Okay, I have to admit I’m not the smartest person out there, but I do think I’m not totally ugly.”

He’s not totally ugly. Quite the opposite, in Annabeth’s opinion. She’d never tell him that though.

“Worst comes to worst, you can always marry me.”

“What? You don’t think I can be one of those Hallmark characters who find the love of their life on Christmas?”

“Newsflash baby, we are those Hallmark characters. Meeting on Christmas Eve, working until Christmas day? Love story if I’ve ever seen one.”

She looks at him skeptically.

“Fine,” he says. “Let’s make one of those pacts. If we’re both still single by, I don’t know, midnight? Then we marry each other.”

She looks at the clock on her phone. “You’re giving me one hour to find the love of my life before I’m forced to resort to you?”

“Yes. That’s plenty of time.”

“Sure,” she says, laughing.

“I mean, you’re already wearing my sweater. If that doesn’t make you wife material, I don’t know what does. Besides, it wouldn’t be terrible to marry me. I know you like my body.”

The looks he’s giving her lets her know that he did see her staring at him earlier. She smacks his arm. “You asshole.”

“What?” he says defensively, rubbing his forearm.

“Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“It didn’t bother me! Besides, I think you’re, like, really attractive too!”

She leans back. “So that’s why you want to marry me in an hour? So no one swoops in and steals the love of your life?”

“Precisely.”

Annabeth quickly learns she likes talking to Percy. He’s so easy to get along with, and he’s constantly getting her to laugh so hard she can’t breathe. He’s also really sweet and selfless, and he looks amazing in the midnight haze, and as they slowly both get closer and closer to being totally wasted, it just gets better.

She has no idea how she never knew his name before now because they’re practically best friends already. She feels like she’s known him her entire life. It’s so natural and perfect, the tense feeling long gone.

At some point, Percy falls over her, squishing her into the cushions of the couch. Her drink falls somewhere out of her hand, but that’s okay because she’s already half a bottle deep, and she’d much rather hold him in her arms anyways. Her fingers trace over the lean muscles of his back as he dies of laughter in the crook of her neck. She also quickly learns that Percy’ love language is touch, especially when he’s drunk. He’s an affectionate person, which is good because he balances her out perfectly.

Percy’s weight drops completely as he gives up on holding himself up. She isn’t sure how long they spend like that, sprawled out on top of one another, but she doesn’t care. This is a carefully constructed Christmas feeling she is too scared to destroy.

At some point though, she looks down to check the time on her phone.

11:59

She pokes Percy in the neck to get him to stop chucking into the cushions, and she waits until the clock strikes twelve. When it does, she’s lacing her fingers in his hair so she can pull him up to look her in the eyes.

“Hey, pretty boy,” she giggles, “It’s twelve.”

“Merry Christmas!” he yells a bit too loudly.

She’s laughing so hard that it comes out silent, and she can’t breathe. “No!”

“Oh! You mean the whole marriage thing?”

“Yes, silly,” she says.

Percy’s head drops back to the couch cushions. “So did you find the love of your life, or do you have to settle for me?”

“I think I may have found the love of my life,” she says.

Percy whines into the couch miserably.

“I’d hardly call it settling, though,” is what she says, and Percy’s head suddenly jumps back to meet her eyes.

Percy’s eyes flicker down to her lips, and she wants it so badly. She doesn’t care that they just met because this one hour with him has been better than the past twenty years of her life spent with anyone else.

So she whispers, “You may now kiss the bride,” and Percy takes her breath away.