#water trailer rent

[bookmarkthebutterfly]

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[stellardeer]

i have to come to terms with the fact that I am actually well off for someone in this country now, like.. idk it's weird

i'm still living the exact same lifestyle that i was before, so for the most part it feels almost like nothing has changed, like maybe im spending a little bit more money on food and buying the "good" toilet paper, but all that does is allow me to actually have savings in my bank account

i still stand with the working class and impoverished people of this country, and I am very much still in the boat of "one [very] bad day from homelessness" so i am not taking this for granted whatsoever

i've just been watching some of those youtube channels where they interview random people all over the country and just like.. kinda show what their life is like and it's definitely putting mine in perspective

very very grateful for the opportunities i have had and very proud of myself for forcing myself to stay in college (even tho it took almost 10 years to finish and left me with a mountain of debt) and just like.. idk, i feel like i could be doing more to help people out, i can't wait til im out of debt ;o;

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Time of the month

Eddie Munson x reader

Summary: You started your period, and Eddie tries to help.

Warnings: fluff, menstruation, mention of sex.

A/n: Not proofread. no minors allowed.

The front door slamming startles you in your spot, huddled in various blankets and pillows. Eddie scans the dark living room in search of you until his eyes land on your figure. There you were hidden beneath all sorts of fluffy blankets with the ever curtain closed.

He laughs to himself, "Hey sweetheart, I'm home."

You look over to him, faking a smile. "Hi."

Eddie frowns." What's wrong? "

"Got my period." You murmured.

He pouts out his bottom lip, moving closer, sitting next to you. "Anything I can do?"

You shake your head no, leaning over to lay your head on his chest. Immediately, Eddie wrapped his arms around you.

"I heard sex can be the cure." He half joked.

You groaned, hiding your face. "Eddie!"

He lets out a belly laugh and moves to stand bending down to give you a quick kiss. He kicked off his boots and placed them by the door.

"M'just playin." He smirked.

"No, you weren't." You pouted.

His smirks grew wider as he watched you."Yeah, you're right, doesn't hurt to try."

If you weren't in the state you are right now, he'd call you cute, but he knows better.

"You sure? I can really pound those cramps outta ya." He joked again, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

All you could was groan at his attempt to make you laugh.

Eddie is in a playful mood, and you were absolutely not. Your cramps had you hunching over in pain. You went through three pairs of panties after bleeding through them by accident. The last thing on your mind is sex. You know he's really just joking deep down, but the thought makes you wince a little. You've been in the same position all day. Huddled under numerous blankets you could find with a heating pad on standby.

He puts his hands on his hips, looking around his trailer. You could tell he's trying to come up with a solution to your problem. Unfortunately, the only solution is dealing with it for four days until it's gone.

Eddies' coveralls were covered in grease from the dirty cars he'd been fixing all day. You could see some of the grease smudged on his neck and face. His five o'clock shadow thickening up around his jaw. If it wasn't for your period, you'd definitely would take him up on his offer. You always thought he looked good on a daily basis. But there was something about how he looked after coming home from a long day at work that made you want to jump on him.

"Wanna take a shower with me?" Eddie spoke softly.

Your face softened, and the pout that was close to being permanent on your face disappeared. "Yea."

"After we clean up, I'm gonna order out and rub your back. You like that?" Eddie walked over to help you stand. Taking your hands into his.

"Mmhmm--id like that a lot, but you don't have to." You tried to argue feeling slightly guilty.

A back rub sounded like heaven, but he's been at work all day. The last thing he should be doing is waiting on your hand and foot. You were perfectly fine resuming what you've been doing all day anyway.

"Ah, ah, don't start. Let me help make you feel better." His tone is gentle, but his face was serious. You knew there was no arguing your way out of this.

"Okay, can we rent a movie too?" You sighed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

"Of course, whatever you want." Eddie squeezed you tighter to him.

He leads you to the shower and helps you undress. You asked him about his day loving how worked up he got at his coworkers sometimes. Eddie told about how some guy came in for an oil change that ended up lasting hours since the poor man had never had one before. You washed his hair, running your nails through his scalp. He hummed every time you did that for him. You swore if he was a cat, he'd be purring right now.

"All done?" Eddie asked, moving around to block the water from hitting your face.

"All done." You smiled, playfully tugging on his chin, causing him to giggle.

"Let's get you warmed, and then I'll make you feel better for a little while." He whispered.

Eddie did as he promised. He fed you. Warmed you up in his arms as you cuddled in his lap. He rented you The Princess Bride to watch. When the movie was over, Eddie guided you to the bedroom where he rubbed your back until you finally fell asleep.

"I love you." He bent over to kiss your cheek.

"Love you too." You muffled in your pillow. You were relaxed and your cramps subsiding. Sleep overtaking your exhausted body.

[bungalowbear]

Subtle Curves

Pairing: stuntman!toji x actress!reader

Warnings: smut (p in v), descriptions of reader being pregnant (round stomach, throwing up), one curse word, MDNI

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is my entry for @ayyy-pee’s Jujutsu Journal Collab. Congrats on 3k, Lexi! And thank you for hosting this creative event! I hope you enjoy!

The bed frame slams against the wall with each of Toji’s powerful thrusts. You’re glad to be renting this condo while you’re filming your latest movie. If you, the star of the film, brought a stuntman, who was also the stunt coordinator, back to your trailer then the entire cast and crew would have no trouble deducing exactly what kind of stunts you two perform behind closed doors.

Currently, Toji has your hips raised in his lap, hands gripping into the flesh of your sides as he drills into you. Your back is raised several inches off the mattress as your chest heaves. Hands gripping the edges of the pillow underneath your head, you cry out his name with tears clinging to your lashes.

“Toji,” you whimper, “s’too much. I-I can’t take it.”

He leans forward and the dark curtain of his hair obscures the top half of his face. The only thing you can see clearly in your delirious haze is the devious grin that pulls at the scar on his lip. “Yes you can. C’mon, baby. One more. For me?”

A calloused hand dips lower, thumb circling your already overstimulated clit. Although every neuron firing in your brain is signaling for retreat, the lower half of your body matches Toji’s thrust.

The coil in your belly gets more and more constricted with each pass of his thick member sliding through your wet walls. Toji’s pace becomes erratic, his thrusts turning choppy and his breath shaky, and you know he is on the verge of his release too.

When the combination of his cock and finger’s stimulation is too much, the coil releases and you gush onto the bed sheets with a scream. Toji chases his peak with more sloppy thrusts. One, two more strong slaps of his skin against yours and he’s emptying himself into your tight heat.

Toji falls forward with a groan. He’s conscious enough to not put all of his weight on you as he breathes heavily against your ear. The skin of your sweat soaked bodies clings together as you come down from your highs.

“Fuck, that was good.” When you don’t answer, Toji pulls away to look down at where you’re slowly succumbing to sleep. He snickers. “Tapping out already? We’re barely going into the third round.”

“Not tonight, Toji.” Your eyes flutter closed. “I’m so…sleepy.”

Toji’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t protest. Not that you’d hear any of it since you’re already knocked out. It’s a bit strange that for the entirety of filming, no matter how long the day was, you were always raring to go into the late hours of the night. Maybe it’s the slump of being in the last weeks of production that’s got you so fatigued.

Shame, Toji thinks to himself, he wanted to get as many orgasms out of you as possible before you go your separate ways. He supposes he’ll have to make up for lost time tomorrow night. Toji shifts you onto your side, cock still nestled warmly between your legs, and drapes the blanket over your bodies to settle in for the night.

Kneeling on the marble floor of the hotel bathroom, you empty your stomach into the toilet for the third time that day. You clutch the curved edges as you lose the last of your lunch.

There’s a knock on the door before your publicist enters. She’s already grabbing your toothbrush and spreading a dollop of minty paste onto the bristles. You rise to your feet and accept her offering. As you brush your teeth she runs one of the hand towels under cold water, wringing it out then dabbing away the perspiration clinging to your forehead.

“This is the last stop on the press tour,” she says. “We’ve cleared your schedule and haven’t taken on any more commitments. After this, you can focus on…”

Her vice trails off, glancing down at your stomach.

Three months ago your clothes started fitting tighter, your stomach a little pudgier. You were constantly tired, but a period of fatigue was normal for you after finishing a film. It wasn’t until after you’d been throwing up quite frequently that you scheduled a doctor’s appointment.

“Congratulations,” the words echo dully in your memory, “you’re pregnant.”

You spit toothpaste into the sink and rinse. Some of your makeup is smudged, which means you’ll have to ask your glam team for a touch up. They’re in the next room, all sworn to secrecy via NDAs, and as much as you adore them you just want to be out of this hotel and back in the comfort of your own home.

You smooth your hands over your stomach. You’re nearing week sixteen, which means, while the morning sickness will soon be a thing of the past, you’re also starting to show. The curve of your belly is subtle, but it’s easily identifiable by anyone who’s really looking. Unfortunately for you there’s always people looking.

Thankfully it’s wintertime and snow comes down in gentle flurries over Tokyo. This gives you an excuse to wear a thick sweater and a larger coat to conceal your changing body.

Your publicist ushers you out of the bathroom, handing you off to your makeup artist to erase any evidence of your condition. In twenty minutes you’re the picture of perfection once again. You say your goodbyes then make your way downstairs where the car is waiting. It takes you to the venue where you meet your co-stars. You’re excited to be reunited nearly five months after wrapping. You all plan for dinner afterwards before being divided into pairs and sent off for interviews.

You shouldn’t be surprised to see Toji at dinner. He lives in Tokyo and became good friends with the male lead, who he was the stunt double for, of course he’d be invited. This should have been a scenario you saw coming. But you didn’t. So now the two of you are sat on opposite ends of the table, trying not to meet the others gaze.

When filming wrapped, you both agreed to stay in touch. It was easy at first. Exchanging flirty texts, maybe a steamy photo or two, but when you found out you were pregnant you had a hard time keeping up pretenses. He was the only man you were intimate with in the time frame of when the baby growing inside you was conceived, making him the father. So you did what any mature adult would do.

You ghosted him.

The right thing to do is to tell him. He has the right to know. And you want to, but there’s one thing holding you back. An intimate detail he divulged a month into sleeping together. He has a son. A son he doesn’t see. He didn’t explain why, and you didn’t pressure him, but you figured since he doesn’t have a relationship with the child he does have that he wasn’t interested in having another.

You aren’t going to force him to be responsible for your child. There are countless single parents out there in the world. Thankfully, you’re in a position where you can support a growing family. It would be a big change, but nothing you can’t handle.

Your gaze meets Toji’s only once during the entire dinner. His unreadable expression makes your spine shudder and you divert your attention back to your plate.

When dinner is over, everyone says their goodbyes and goes their separate ways. You’re not ready to go back to the hotel yet. Feeling like you really need some time alone, you text your publicist that you’ll be out a little longer. There aren’t many people in this part of the city at this time so you’re not worried about being approached by anyone who might recognize you. Starting down the sidewalk, you have a brief thought that you didn’t see Toji exit the restaurant. But a sudden hand over your mouth sends your mind into a panic as you’re dragged into a narrow alley.

You bite down on your captor’s fingers and are released with a growl. An attempt at fleeing is foiled when a large hand grabs your arm, spinning you around and bringing you face to face with…Toji?

“You jerk!” You shove at his chest. He doesn’t budge at all. “I was so scared!”

“You’ve got to be more aware of your surroundings,” is all he says.

You huff. “Whatever.”

“So…why’d you ghost me?”

“I…”

You cross your arms over your chest. Turning your body away, you struggle to find the right words.

“I thought we had fun.” Suddenly he’s right behind you, strong chest pressed to your back. You can feel his warmth through your coat. “Was even thinking about going out to see you.”

You tilt your head to look back at him. Your voice is small, tinged with girlish hope. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Toji crowds closer. A finger traces the curve of your cheek. He runs hot even in this freezing weather. It’s a welcome contrast to your cold skin and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” you say.

“You’re pregnant,” He’s stone faced again. “And it’s mine.”

“W-what?” you splutter. Turning so that you’re facing him, your lips part in shock. “How did you know? Who told you?”

“No one told me.” He shrugs. “I remember how tired you were the last couple weeks of shooting. Then you told me how much your were puking before you quit responding to me. Took me a bit to remember the signs, but I figured that’s what it was.”

“Oh.”

“Plus you used the restroom like ten times tonight.”

“It was only four times,” you correct.

“Right,” he agrees flatly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I remember what you told me about your son. I didn’t think you’d want another kid.”

“Ah, well….” He scratches at the top of his head, looking toward the wall of the alley to avoid your eyes. “You know you have options, right?”

“Like abortion?”

“Probably a little late for that.” Toji rolls his eyes. “I meant, like, putting it up for adoption.”

“I thought about that,” you admit, “but I want to keep it.”

Toji’s silent. There’s a tension between you that isn’t reminiscent of what you had when you were on set. That was playful and fiery and free. This is awkward and tepid and tethering.

“You don’t have to be a part of the baby’s life. I won’t make you. But…I really do miss you.” Toji sighs at your admission. You don’t know why you’re willing to let loose all of your thoughts about him from the past five months, but you push on anyway. “And if I’m being honest, it makes me sad to think about never seeing you again. Even if I wasn’t having your baby.”

You don’t want Toji to think you’re being clingy, or worse, pathetic, over a purely physical relationship. Because that’s what you both agreed it was. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes and you try to suppress the lump that threatens to climb up out of your throat, but your body won’t cooperate. Your hormones are in a frenzy and all you know is what you feel. Logic nowhere to be found.

Toji pulls you into his chest when the first sob escapes, embracing you carefully with both arms across your back until you calm down. When your tears subside and your breathing evens out he takes you by the shoulders and puts himself at arms length from you. He bends down so that you’re both at face level.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You dab at your eyes with the sleeve of your coat and nod your head. Then Toji does something unexpected. He takes your chin between his thumb and pointer, tilting your head up just enough for him to connect your lips with his. It’s a brief kiss, but it’s comforting and reassuring. A private moment that silently communicates there’s still more to your story.

Unfortunately, neither of you notice the camera flash at the far end of the alley.

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dividers by @/firefly-graphics

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 28

part 1 | part 27 | bonus stobin scene | ao3

cw: anxiety attack, graphic thoughts of death

Chapter 7

Steve's mom leaves the week before Thanksgiving.

No preamble, no notice, no "so long and thanks for paying rent," just— poof. Gone. Ta-ta, kiddo. Have a great life!

(Or don't!

Who cares?

Not me, that's for sure!)

The worst part is Steve finds out from Ernie of all people. Ma couldn’t even tell him to his face that she’s abandoning him to the gaping maw of this hellish town because she’s a good-for-nothing coward. Some day this place is gonna swallow him whole, splinter the bones and cough up the pellet, and Florence Harrington will be somewhere far, far away, sighing empty condolences over a fresh glass of red. “Just dreadful, isn’t it? Such a pity; what a shame.”

Steve’s hanging towels on the clothes line the day after the party — after the ride to drop off Max and the hangover brunch with Robin; after drowning his headache in Tylenol and finally getting home, only to realize that he can’t shower yet because all the towels are soaking wet — when Ernie looks up from his yardwork and casually ruins his goddamn life.

“You're wastin' your time with that,” he says, propping his weight against a rake and squinting at Steve in the mid-afternoon sun.

“What?” Steve frowns; hangs another towel. It's not like they're going to dry themselves. "Why?"

"Too cold."

"It's not supposed to rain, though, is it?"

"No, but the humidity—"

Screw the humidity. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Ernie shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

He turns his attention back to his yard, dragging the rake over a smattering of damp leaves; obsessed with keeping his little patch of lawn pristine; and Steve reaches into the hamper and sincerely hopes that Ernie’s wrong. He needs a shower, and if the towels don't dry fast enough they get that gross mildew smell to them, and then it gets in Steve's hair, and how is he supposed to flirt with Eddie if he smells like musty lake water?

"Where's your mom off to, anyway?" Ernie asks after a moment. "Saw her leave this morning with two big suitcases,” he explains when Steve throws him a questioning look. “Figured she was off somewhere nice.”

Steve blanches.

Two big suitcases?

He didn’t even notice that she wasn’t here. Feels like a stupid, selfish asshole now, because he’d called ‘ma, I’m home!’ when he got in earlier and had thought nothing of her complete lack of response, the peaceful silence of the house; had welcomed it at the time, even, and what if—

Oh, god, what if she’d died?

What if she’d been lying there dead in her room, and Steve didn’t bother to check because he was too busy thinking about himself and how nice it was not to hear reruns on the TV for once? How long would she have lain there, rotting and bloated, and— and how long would his dad have, if the gunshot hadn’t rung out? How long; how long? Bleeding out on the carpet gurgling fish sounds everything red and Steve can’t breathe—

“Did she—?” he pants. Brings a hand to his throat; tries again. “Did you- see who she left with?”

“Some woman. Relative of yours, maybe? I didn’t get a good look at her. Had a real fancy car, though. Mercedes, think it was.”

Steve chokes on his own spit. Feels his throat close up, his heart pound and his ears ring and the yellow-purple-black start creeping in like vines at the edge of his vision, like demogorgon claws; like death’s shark-toothed grin. Hungry, howling, happy as it takes a bite out of him.

“You alright?” Ernie asks.

Steve grinds his jaw so hard he feels something crack. "Excuse me," he grits out, stomping back into the house.

—

"Fuck!" Steve shouts to his empty house — to the sun-faded paneling, to the weird stain in the orange carpet. Fucking Cecelia; fucking hell.

He cleans the house in a rage, eyes hot with unshed tears, and there's a note on the breakfast table. Crisply folded on plain paper, prim cursive letters, almost comically estranged:

Steven,

Apologies for short notice. Gone to stay with Aunt Cece in Evanston. Call or visit if you like.

— Mom

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving

The words leave papercuts in his throat. Steve rips the note to tiny pieces, can hardly see for the tears swimming in his eyes, but he's not crying over this; he's not. He fucking refuses.

Somewhere along the way, the cleaning turns to blind destruction, demolition of the all the little scraps of life mom left behind: her creepy angel figurines, her vintage Pyrex dishes, an empty bottle of old perfume. Steve hurls them all against the living room wall, delights in the shimmering pile of broken glass at his bare feet. Wants to crawl over it on hands and knees. Wants to burn this place to the ground.

When the sun dips below the trees he goes back out to check the towels. The air is wet, bitterly cold; nips at his hands when the wind blows, and the towels hang heavy on the line, just as damp as before but now the slightest bit stiff with the first creep of frost.

"FUCK!" Steve roars, ripping a towel down off the line. Yanking each one down in turn, throwing them into the dirt, raging, "What! Is! The fucking! Point!"

His tears spill over then, hot and wet as he sinks to his knees with a wounded growl, and he chokes there in the dirt; the cold, wet mud, the patchy grass. Gravel digs into his shins, and sobs wrack his chest, capsize him like plunging waves, and he can't do anything but shake and cry where the whole neighborhood can see. Making a commotion; making a scene, as his mother would say, but his mother's not here. She fucking left. She left him here, and his dad did, too, and Steve is utterly, truly, hopelessly alone.

"Come on, son."

And there’s Wayne Munson, coaxing him up off the ground with a sure, strong grip. Steve makes animal sounds as Wayne lifts him under the arms — ruined hiccups, mangled wails. There's mud in his lungs. Ocean silt; sucking sludge.

His mother's gone.

"Easy now," Wayne shushes; hugs him hard against his side. "You're alright, kid. You're alright."

—

part 29

tag list under separate reblogs, comment if you’re over 21 and want to be added tomorrow

[forays-into-fiction]

The Box

You had been noticing some of your things going missing. At first it had been easy to dismiss, a hair tie here, an almost empty bottle of lotion there. But more recently it had been items harder to ignore, photos of treasured memories, items of clothing, so on and so forth. But you had no idea where they could be disappearing to, why would anyone even want that stuff, it’s not like it was valuable or anything.

 Minors DNI

Contains: Perv!Eddie/Perv!Reader, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining/Lusting, Masturbation, Sex Without a Condom, Dirty Talk, Slight Degradation, Mentions Creepy Behaviour That Goes Excused Very Quickly

Eddie escorts you to the front door of his trailer, holding the door open for you before following through. “Hey, I’m just gonna grab a shower real quick. You can make yourself comfortable in my room, you know the drill.”

You nod following him through to his bedroom, dropping your bag to the floor and sitting cross-legged on his bed while he pulls things out of his wardrobe.

“Only be a minute, you can pick out a video if you want. They’re just there.” He nods over to his desk and you follow his line of sight.

“Cool, will do.” You reply as he moves towards the bathroom.

Eddie strips off his clothes hurriedly, he’s been half-hard since the moment you stepped into his van, the way your little skirt rode up exposing more of your thighs to him distractingly. He’d been glancing over repeatedly the whole ride, practically white-knuckling the steering wheel. He doesn’t think you noticed… hopes you didn’t notice.

Stepping into the harsh spray of the shower and pulling the curtain closed behind him he wastes no time in gripping his cock, stroking it to full attention. He thinks about those soft, supple thighs as his hand glides over his length with a muted groan. He realises there’s not much distance between the two of you, only the thin wall separating you, you just in the next room over… in his bed.

He bites the inside of his cheek stifling his moans. This is so wrong, this is so wrong he thinks to himself, but if it’s so wrong why does it feel sooo good another little voice counters. His head falls forward resting against the wet tile in front of him, the strong metallic taste of iron fills his mouth.

He’s close, so close he can feel it fast approaching. He imagines you in those little black, lacy panties he’d found. He imagines flipping up the hem of your skirt and pulling them to the side and cumming all over them, your thighs, the way it would drip over your folds. Imagines you spending the rest of the day like that covered in his cum and it tips him over the edge, splattering the wall in thick, hot, ropey strands. It washes away quickly and he rushes to finish cleaning off.

There’s a handful of tapes sitting on his desk, as you approach you can see Alien, Body Double, 9 ½ Weeks and Sixteen Candles. You know which one he would expect you to pick, he would’ve rented it just for your benefit too. Instead of going for the obvious you opt for Alien, not recognising the other two. Secretly you love horror movies, but you tend to overplay your reactions, giving you an excuse to squeeze yourself into him, burying your face into his shoulder, pressing your tits against his chest as your nipples pebble against him. The jump scares do get you sometimes, but never bad enough to warrant the reaction you give. He’s never complained before, but when you do pick out a scary movie, he always gives a concerned, ‘Are you sure? You know how scared you get with these movies.’ To which you can’t help but reply with some variation of, ‘Yeah, but its ok, I’ve got my big strong Dungeon Master to protect me and I know how much you love them, so…’

 Video in hand you move back to the bed, listening to the sound of the water running, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the blanket beneath you. You grow bored rather quickly, tossing the video aside you pull your backpack up into your lap looking for something to occupy yourself. You don’t find much, you grab a notebook and pen doodling on it for a bit when you’re satisfied with the little drawing you’ve done you tear the page out and stick it to the wall behind his bed next to the banner that hangs there.

After returning your notebook to your bag, you pull out your chapstick freshening your lips, but as you go to put the cap back on it slips from your grip tumbling beneath the bed. You sigh sliding to your knees, reaching an arm under his bed blindly. Your hand bumps into a wooden box, you can’t help yourself, curiosity overwhelms you. Pulling it out staring down at it, you recognise it as the project Eddie had worked on in shop class, noting the little love heart you’d carved into the side.

 You pop the lid off and gasp at the sight before you, it’s a veritable treasure trove of your belongings. Things you thought you’d never see again, photos, hair ties, a pair of black, lacy panties, a mostly empty bottle of your lotion, a travel sized version of your perfume. You look closer, some of these photos are ones you’ve never even seen, taken without your awareness. 

The sound of the shower cutting off breaks you out of your stupor and you’re scrambling to shove the lid back on, flinging the box back under the bed. Leaping back onto the bed trying to look innocent, chest heaving with ragged breaths you try to calm yourself as Eddie begins opening the door. He walks in pants slung low on his hips, as he towels off his long curls you leer at his bare chest eyes traveling down to the sparse trail of hair that peeks out over the top of his waistband. He tosses the towel onto the bed and shakes his head like a dog before moving to his wardrobe picking out a shirt and pulling it over his head. 

He drops onto the bed slinging an arm around you, “So what d’ya want to watch tonight?”

He notices as you stiffen against him, flushing bright red, “Hey, what’s the matter? You, ok?” He asks softly.

You leap out of his embrace, backing away from the bed, stuttering, “Uhhh… I gotta… I gotta go.”

You bolt out of the room hightailing it through the front door.

He sits there for a moment, frozen in shock before chasing after you.

“Hey, where are you going?” He calls after you. “What’s wrong?”

“I just gotta go Eds.” You shout back over your shoulder.

“But I drove you here.” He shouts back.

“That’s ok, I’ll walk. I could use the exercise. Bye.”

He doesn’t know what to do, he wants to go after you, wants to insist on at least letting him drive you home. Trying to think what could have happened that set you off like that… it couldn’t be… no, there was no way. You hadn’t heard him surely, he’d done his best to keep quiet, bit the inside of his cheek ‘til he drew blood for Christ’s sakes… unless something slipped out without him realising, a moan, some other offensive sound, your name. No, no that couldn’t be it… but what else could it be. He spends the rest of the night agonising over what could have happened to send you running like that.

 You on the other hand spent the rest of your night with your fingers buried between your thighs, writhing around on your bed, biting on your lip to keep from moaning too loud. Your mind conjuring thoughts of Eddie getting himself off to you, your panties wrapped around his hard cock, your photos spread out over his bed, him cumming in thick, hot spurts over his stained mattress… is that how he would do it… or maybe he’d stuff your panties in his mouth like a makeshift gag, muffling his cries as he fists his cock desperately, finishing all over one of your photos, you’d definitely seen some residue on a few of them.

You spend the next few days avoiding him like the plague, you don’t know how you’re ever going to look him in the eye again or how to behave around him now. Not a day goes by that you don’t think about the contents of ‘the box’, every waking moment, every fitful dream… you can’t escape it. Soon even dirtier thoughts fill your mind, thoughts of adding to his collection. Posing for some naughty photos, leaving him your dirty underwear, a fresh bottle of lotion, on and on the thoughts race through your mind. You wonder how he’d react if suddenly one day there was something new there, something he didn’t put there.

 And then one night you do take those photos you’d been thinking about. Picking out a set of lingerie that you think he’d like, you get yourself all worked up snapping photos along the way. Pulling your panties to the side swirling your fingers around in your slick before plunging them in. Playing to the camera as best as you can. You orgasm three times that night, leaving your panties a soaking mess, you bundle them up with the polaroids you’d taken and shove them in the drawer beside your bed.      

 This is the longest the two have you gone without speaking since you met, he’d been trying to reach out to you this whole time. Calling your house, dropping by unannounced, trying to catch you at school, all to no avail. You’d managed to avoid him, but not without difficulty. He’d even sent one of his little Hellfire Club members with a message, begging you to just talk to him, but you refuse.

However, Eddie manages to corner you in the halls after school one day, dragging you into an empty classroom.

He stands in the doorway blocking your exit, you avoid looking at him, “Hey, what the fuck is going on? Why won’t you look at me? Why are you avoiding me?” He hisses angrily grasping your chin tightly forcing your face towards him.

You keep your eyes downcast as he continues, his tone softening slightly, “Seriously, y/n what’s wrong?”

You shake your head in his grip, refusing to answer.

“Please. Please tell me what’s wrong… I-I can’t…I can’t lose you.” He implores, words catching in his throat.

It tugs at your heartstrings and you finally look up at him, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, his tone desperate, “Was it something I did?”

You hesitate, yes and no, it was also something you did, but you can’t even begin to explain it to him.

“Please, you’re my best friend. Please, don’t do this.” He begs.

You feel yourself tearing up too, you can’t bear to think that you’re hurting him, “Eddie, please just let it go. If you let it go maybe we can go back to normal.”

“That’s all I want… to go back to how it was before. But I gotta know was it something I did, something that we could have avoided?”

“No.” It’s a half-truth, but it’ll do.

“Are you sure?” He presses.

“I’m sure. We can move on pretend nothing ever happened…”

“If that’s what you want. Would you… would you like to come over tonight, maybe watch that movie we were supposed to…?”

 “Tonight?” You ask in a strained voice.

“I mean it doesn’t have to be tonight… whenever… whenever you’re free is fine.”

“No, uh tonight is fine I just…um, maybe I could swing past my house first?”

“Yeah, sure we can do that-”

“No, no I mean just me, I’ll uh drive over myself.”

“Yeah, that’s cool too… I gotta pick up some videos again anyway.” he breaks into an uneasy grin.

“Could I… could I get a hug… it’s just, it’s been so long and-” He ventures uncertainly.

You cut him off wrapping your arms around him, “I missed you, missed this.” He mumbles into your hair, pulling you closer.

“Missed you too Eds.” You admit.

You pull up to his trailer, parking by his van, you flip down the visor staring at your reflection. You try to psych yourself up, you can do this you’ve done this a million times it’s just a movie night with Eddie. But you can’t help but think to that little bundle you’d slipped into your bag, almost as an afterthought, it’s practically burning a hole in the front pocket. You shake your head as if to clear it, now or never you think before springing to action grabbing the bag and throwing open your door.

 You knock on his front door, you haven’t knocked on his door in almost as long as you can remember. Usually you’d just barge right in, but nothing felt normal anymore. Eddie calls out to you, “Just a minute…” before appearing in the doorway shifting nervously from foot to foot, “Oh, uh come in.” He jumps aside ushering you in with a sweep of his hand.

You’re thankful he didn’t question the knocking and you also don’t acknowledge his odd behaviour.

“So, uh I brought some snacks.” You hold up the bag, freezing momentarily when you remember your panties shoved deep in the front pocket, among other things. You clear your throat, “So, um anyway… your bedroom, like always?”

He nods, leading the way as you trail along behind him. You settle into your usual spot dropping your bag to the floor gently.

You don’t know what possessed you to bring them but you had. Tucked away in your bag by your feet, that little bundle of ‘gifts’, you can’t stop thinking about it as you pull out a stash of candy. You can barely focus on what he’s saying, he clicks his fingers in front of your face snapping you back to reality, “Hey, I said, do you want popcorn?”

“Oh, uh yeah sure, that’d be great. Thanks Eds.” You smile up at him nervously.

“Ok, be right back. You can set up the movie if you want. Did you still wanna watch Alien? I know that’s what you picked out last… um, last time, it was still on the bed when you… when you left.” He asks tensely. You nod in response and he exits the room.

 The screen crackles to life and you pop the video into the little TV/VCR combo unit you had gifted him, to much protest on his behalf, for his eighteenth birthday.

Pausing the film and turning back to the bed you bite your lip, you have a chance now… you could slip it into the box now, while he’s distracted. You can feel your face heating up as you contemplate it, glancing over to the slightly ajar door before thinking fuck it.

 Kneeling down by your backpack you pull out that little bundle and fish around under his bed for ‘the box’. Flipping off the lid you arrange your items neatly, unfolding them you place your underwear in first, followed by the polaroids on top and finally a new bottle of your lotion, little bow tied around it… was that too much? Maybe, oh well. You slide the box back under his bed.

Eddie renters his bedroom quietly, he didn’t mean to sneak up on you, just wanted to ask if you wanted extra butter on your popcorn. But when he sees you kneeling on the floor, ass up, hand reaching under his bed he can’t tear his eyes away, barely able to hold back a groan, until… under his bed, oh shit. He scrambles to action, sliding to his knees in front of you wide-eyed and panic-stricken he grabs your arm firmly, the one still under his bed trapped on top of the box.

 “What are you doing?” He hisses at you a mix of desperation, panic and anger seeping into his voice.

You sit there frozen staring into his eyes as they bore holes into your own, “Umm… I-I dropped my chapstick?” You answer uncertainly.

“Ok, where is it?” He demands.

You’re speechless, unable to respond, you know you don’t have a chapstick in your hand.

“Go on show me.” He insists.

“I… uhhh…” You stutter.

He drags your arm out from under the bed, your hand knocks the box, flinging it out to rest between the two of you.

Both of you stare down at it, his head snaps back up to look at you but you can’t bring yourself to do the same.

“Did you open this? Did you see this?”

You don’t trust your eyes not to betray you, you can’t look up, “No, uh-”

“Don’t lie to me. Did. You. See. This.” He hisses again.

You remain silent.

“You did, didn’t you… if not now, then… oh my god is that… is that why you took off that day?”

 He grips your chin harshly, forcing you to look at him, “Is that why you went running for the fucking hills? And what, you came back here to get rid of it or something?”

“No…” You mumble, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“No? Then what are you doing?”

“I… uh… just… just open it, Eds.”

He gives you a puzzled look before tossing the lid off, leaving its contents laid bare between you.

He picks up the lotion, wrapped in its little bow, turning it over in his hand.

He splutters, “Wh-what’s this?”

“Just… just keep looking.” You turn your head away in shame.

He looks back to the box, mouth dropping open in awe. He picks up the photos next, flipping through them gasping as they get gradually more and more explicit. He notices the panties next, dropping the photos beside the box to hold them up observing them. “Are these… are these the same ones from the photos?” He groans.

You nod still avoiding his gaze.

“Goddamn… what… why…” He’s unable to finish his thought.

 “Well, I um… you’re right I did find it that day, but it’s not what you think.” You rush to explain, finally looking up at him. “I uh, I saw this and I… I dunno I thought… I thought it was kinda hot.” You cringe a little. “And then suddenly you were back here, half-naked practically dripping wet, then you were all pressed up against me and I just… I didn’t know how to process it I guess.” You shrug.

He smirks at you, “You thought it was ‘hot’? Who knew you were such a little perv?”

You give him a slap, and whine, “Oh, shut up, it’s not like you’re not a perv too.”

“Oh, sweetheart you have no idea.” He hums, “But, then why did you run away, why did you avoid me for so long?”

“I just… I couldn’t face you after, especially after what I did…” You trail off.

 “What do you mean? What did you doooo?” He asks intrigued, drawing out the last syllable.

“I uh, I fingered myself when I got home and I… I thought about you. About how you might use the stuff in your box.” You bite your lip.

He groans in response, “God damn, that is the hottest shit I’ve ever heard. Is that… is that when you took the photos?”

“No um that was a few days later. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, the box, everything and the idea kinda just popped into my head to maybe give you something in return.”

“Awww, so generous of you.” He teases, standing and offering you his hand. You grasp it and he pulls you to your feet, guiding you to sit on the bed before plopping himself down beside you.

“So… what do we do now?” You ask awkwardly eyes downcast, twisting your hands in your lap.

“Well, we could just watch the movie, or…” He trails off.

“Or…?” You look up at him hopefully, into his eyes, now clouded with lust.

“If I’m honest I popped a semi as soon as I saw your cute butt wiggling around in the air and it’s only just been getting worse since.” He admits with a groan. You hazard a glance down at his crotch to see the tent that’s formed there and let out an involuntary whine.

 “You wanna… fool around a little?” You offer glancing back up at him.

“I want anything you’ll give me.” He sighs.

“O-ok… I gotta warn you though I don’t really have much experience with this stuff.”

“Me too, it’s fine.” He assures you, “We can figure it out together.” He smiles softly.

 His hand comes up to cup your face and he leans in hesitating before his lips meet your own. “Can I…?” He breathes out.

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he presses his lips to yours. He’s quick to deepen the kiss, groaning into your mouth. You part your lips letting his tongue explore your own.

When you break apart, both panting he murmurs against your lips, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Me too.” You sigh. “Ever since-”

He cuts you off, “Don’t. Don’t, I don’t wanna know how long I could have had you… how long I could have had this. Just too stupid to figure it out.”

You slap his chest, “Don’t say that, you are not stupid!”

“But-”

“No! I won’t hear it. Now you better get back to kissing me Munson.”

He pauses uncertainly, you fist your hand into the front of his shirt pulling him back in capturing his lips between your own forcefully.

“Mmpf… yeah… mhhhh… yeah ok.” He moans into your mouth between kisses.

Your hand wanders down his chest to palm at the prominent bulge in his pants. He bites on your lower lip drawing back, draging his teeth along it before releasing.

“You, uh… you wanna get naked for me?” He asks tugging on your shirt.

“Yeah…” you hum in agreement pouting up at him, “do you wanna take off your clothes too?”

“God yes. But you first, I wanna watch.”

“O-ok…” you lower your hands shakily to the hem of your shirt raising it over your head slowly before dropping it on the bed beside you. He gapes at your chest, hands coming up to hover over the swell of your breast.

You sense his hesitation and grab his hands pressing his palms into your sensitive flesh. He groans and gives an experimental squeeze drawing a soft whine from between your lips. He stares on appreciatively as you snake your hands behind your back to release the clasp of your bra, brushing his hands away to pull it free and tossing it away.

His hands are quick to return to their original position now circling your nipples with his thumbs. “This is… goddamn, this is better than any wet dream I’ve ever had.” He murmurs.

You giggle teasing, “And we’ve barely done anything yet.”

“God, I know. Can I… can I get you to lie back?”

“What happened to ‘getting naked’?”

“Yeah, changed my mind, want you to keep your skirt on… if that’s ok?” He rushes to add. “It’s kind of… part of a fantasy I want to try.”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply moving to lean back against his pillows.

“Thank you.” He mumbles moving to straddle you, towering over you.

It’s your turn to tug on the bottom of his shirt now, “Can you get rid of this though, I wanna see you too…” You bat your eyelashes at him. He eagerly hooks a hand into the bottom of his shirt pulling it over his head tossing it aside grinning at you. You run your hands over his chest your eyes following along with their movements. Your fingertips come to rest at his handcuff belt-buckle and you look up into his eyes as you undo his belt. Unzipping his jeans, you tug them down to his knees before rolling down his boxers to join them, his thick, hard cock springs forth, the tip flushed and dripping. Your eyes widen at the sight, “You got a pretty cock Eds…” you breathe out in admiration.

It twitches in response, “God, sweetheart you’re too good to me.” He moans.

The way you squeeze your thighs together beneath him doesn’t go unnoticed by him and he smirks at you devilishly, “Someone’s getting a little antsy, aren’t they? What do you want sweetheart? Tell me.”

“Touch me, please…” You whine.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He brushes his hands along your neck, down your shoulder, “Here?” He teases.

“No. Down… down there.” You pout, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

He reaches down trailing his fingertips in circles over your knee, running his hand up under your skirt to your thigh and squeezing firmly, so close to where you need him, “You mean here?”

“No, Eds! I mean… I mean my pussy.” You sob with a pathetic broken little moan.

“Oh, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He moves torturously slow, flipping your skirt up and tugging your panties to the side exposing your sopping wet cunt to the cool air of his room.

He runs two of his fingers through your slick folds, groaning appreciatively, “All this from just a little groping, god you’re such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”

“Oh god, yes. Just for you Eds.” You gasp as he begins to circle your clit.

“Yeah, tell me again how you touched yourself thinkin’ ‘bout little ‘ol me. Tell me, what was I doing in your fantasy?”

You can barely think straight, only just managing to stutter out, “Thought… mhmmm… thought ‘bout you u-using my… hmmm… my panties to jerk off… thought ‘b-bout y-you cumming all over my photos.”

He plunges his fingers into your entrance as he continues, “You wanna know about my fantasy?”

“Yes, please Eds.” He wiggles his fingers in a come-hither motion stretching you out in a way that has you panting.

“Well, in my fantasy I’ve got you like this, skirt flipped up, panties pulled to the side as I jerk off above you. When I cum it goes everywhere, all over you right here…” he pushes his fingers even further into you, you begin clenching down on his digits, “then I pull your panties back in place, make you walk around all day, feeling my cum dripping out of you, spreading all over you. You want that?”

“God yes! Eds please I’m cumming.” You wail as your walls pulse around him.

“Fuck, that was hot.” He groans while slipping his fingers out from between your thighs leaving you trembling beneath him.

 He stares down almost trancelike, at his slick digits, slippery with your cum before pushing them into his mouth sucking on them as his eyes drift shut moaning obscenely.

“Fuck me Eds.” You whine desperately.

His eyes snap open and his hand drops from his mouth, “Uh yeah, god yes… let me just find a condom.” He leans over to his bedside table but you grab his arm.

“‘S fine don’t need one I’m on birth control an’ I wanna feel it when you cum, wanna feel it inside…”

“Fuck, you keep talking like that I’m gonna blow my load in like two seconds…”

“‘S ok if you do, I mean I already came jus’ wanna make you feel good now.”

He growls pushing his jeans and his boxers down to his ankles kicking them off at the edge of the bed. He grips the waistband of your panties moving to pull them off but you stop him, “No leave them, you can fuck me with them on like in your fantasy, you know just pull them to the side.”

“Goddamn, you are like the best wet dream ever, come to life…”

You hook a hand behind his neck cutting him off and pulling him into a searing kiss.

You pull your lips away from his reluctantly, “You gonna fuck me now or what?”

He lets out a rumbling groan, “Yes princess, anything you wish.”

Gripping his shaft at the base with one hand as the other pulls the fabric covering your entrance to the side, he rubs the head along your folds teasingly before slowly easing himself in. He pants out, “Let me know… if- if it’s too much, ok?”

“Mhmm.” You mumble gritting your teeth at the slight burn as your walls stretch around him, while not your first you are unaccustomed to anything of his size.

He bottoms out resting there for a moment allowing both of you to adjust to the sensation before testing the waters with a shallow thrust. His hips shift into a steady roll and you bite your lip whining at the sensation, flexing your walls around him.

 “Oh god, you feel sooo good… I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, fucking you raw…” He gasps.

“Oh, Eds I’m not just letting you do it, I want you to.” You reply breathily.

His hips slam into yours as he lets out a broken moan, “God yes, my dirty little girl wants me to cum inside her.”

“Yes, ‘m yours Eds. Wan’ you to fill me up.” You pant.

“Oh god ‘m not gonna last much longer do ya think you can cum again?” He asks desperately.

“Yeah, maybe… lemme try something.” You drop your hand between your joined bodies, swirling your fingers around your clit and bumping against the base of his shaft.

Your eyes roll back, mouth dropping open in a silent scream as you clamp down around him. He bucks up into you one final time, hips stilling and unloading deep within your wet heat with a cry of your name he collapses on top of you. The two of you lay there, bodies quaking with aftershocks and panting into each other.

He slips out of you moments later readjusting your panties patting them in place as your combined fluids leak out, staining the gusset.

He presses a kiss to your thigh before breathing out “You were so good for me sweetheart.”

“Yeah? Do you think we could do that again sometime?” You look down at him hopefully.

He rakes over the length of your body coming up to face you “Oh, sweetheart you’re not going to be able to keep me off of you now.” He chuckles darkly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You giggle at his response, “Good… So, you still wanna watch the movie?”

“I guess, if you want.” He shrugs.

You nod moving to grab your top, pulling it back over your head forgoing your bra. He moves to grab his own clothes pulling on just his boxers and shirt.

“You still want that popcorn?” He asks moving to the doorway.

“Yes, please.” You grin at him.

He returns bowl of popcorn in hand, he starts up the film and snuggles up to you.

You munch away at the popcorn in his lap, he spends the whole movie anticipating your reactions, but they never come. He’s confused normally you’d be a jumpy mess long ago, you don’t even flinch when it comes to the chest-burster scene. He pauses the film looking at you eyes narrowed, quirking a brow, “Hey, what gives?”

“What’re you talking about Eds?” You mumble back through a mouthful of popcorn.

“You are not reacting to any of this like at all, what gives? Normally you’d be a mess right now, halfway in my lap-”

“Oh, uh yeah about that… I was never actually scared in any of the movies we watched.” You admit with a sly grin.

“What? Then why-” He splutters.

“Cause I wanted to touch you, wanted an excuse to be close to you… so, I… faked it a little.”

“Oh, you little… here I was thinking you had no idea the torture you were putting me through, but you knew, you did it on purpose?!” He gasps affronted.

“Well, I didn’t know it was affecting you too. I just wanted to be closer to you.” You pout.

“We’ll, I guess that worked out for you huh?” He teases.

You smirk back at him, self-satisfied, “It did, didn’t it?”

As you shift from side to side happily in your seat on the bed there’s an audible squelching from between your messy, sticky folds.

Eddie gasps, “Shit, I fucking heard that. Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

You giggle, grabbing his hand to push his fingers against the drenched fabric between your legs and he inhales sharply.

“Are you trying to start something again… already?!”

“Maybe…” you reply cheekily grinning up at him.

He groans head hanging down towards his chest before snapping back up and pouncing on you, “Come here then.” He growls.

[steddie-island]

Mutually Beneficial

After seeing this art by @2jihiir0, inspiration struck and I wrote a thing. This isn't what I usually write, I hope I did your art justice and that you like it as much as Steve likes Eddie being a little mean. 😅 Words: 1,237 | Rating: E | Tags: Age gap (Older Eddie Munson, Younger Steve Harrington), Mean dom Eddie, Choking, Possessive Eddie Munson, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington See ao3 for full list of tags

“Oh my god –”

It had started innocently enough, with Steve getting kicked out as soon as he’d graduated and with Eddie Munson, town outcast, advertising a room for rent and a kid who needed a sitter. Moving in would be mutually beneficial. 

"Eddie, please–”

The trailer was different from what Steve was used to. The water heater was always on the fritz, it leaked when it rained, and sometimes it smelled like weed and whiskey, but the rent was cheap, his bed was comfortable, and Eddie’s kid was an angel. The sweetest little girl with big brown eyes and a head full of curls that matched her daddy’s. Steve loved her, loved watching Eddie with her and seeing how his whole demeanor changed when she was awake. He was a Doberman and she was the person he would cut the world down at the knees for. He looked at her so fucking tenderly. 

Sometimes Steve caught Eddie looking at him like that, all soft and tender. When he was feeding Rhiannon, or when Eddie would come back from a business deal (Steve wasn’t stupid, he had his suspicions about what went on but he wouldn’t ask. He just knew Eddie left with an empty wallet and returned with a big wad of cash) to find the two of them reading on the couch together. 

Eddie’s eyes didn’t stay soft like that when it was just the two of them. When they were alone his gaze would go almost sharklike as he sat back against the couch and watched every move Steve made.

Steve would catch him, would flush hot from head to toe. And maybe someone else would’ve seen it as a red flag, as a caution sign, but Steve had never been very good at listening to the warning labels.

It came to a head one night while Steve was cleaning up the kitchen after Rhiannon had been put to bed. He didn’t have to catch Eddie to know those dark eyes were on him, he could feel it like a physical pressure between his shoulder blades. And then it wasn’t just those eyes he could feel. It was big hands on his slim hips, Eddie’s chest against his back.

“You’re a pretty thing when you get all pink and shy,” Eddie had murmured. He smelled like the whiskey he’d been sipping since before dinner. “I keep wondering how far down your blush goes…” 

Steve’s knees had nearly given out as Eddie’s fingers slipped under his t-shirt, then down beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms. “I got a feeling it goes all… the way… down.” His hand, so rough and big and hot , wrapped around Steve’s dick, made him whimper with how tight his grip was.

A kiss was pressed to his throat while Eddie’s thumbnail caught at his slit, making his hips jerk. 

“Pretty thing, why don’t you let me find out for myself, hmm? You take care of me… and I’ll take care of you.” As if to prove his point, Eddie had hit his knees. He’d bent Steve over the counter, had licked him long and deep and made him come twice with his mouth and his fingers, all before Eddie’s dick was ever inside of him.

Really, how was Steve supposed to argue with that?

“Use your words, sweet boy,” Eddie murmured. He was sitting with his arms spread across the back of the couch. His pants were open, his tanktop rucked up to show off the tattoos over his stomach.

And Steve was fucking himself down onto that thick cock. 

“Please– oh god, please –”

“You said that already. Please what, baby?” Eddie threaded his fingers into Steve’s hair, tugged in a way that made Steve whimper and his dick twitch against his belly. “I told you we have to make it quick. Can’t make it quick if you don’t use your words and ask for what you need, huh?”

Steve bit down another sound as he tried to lean forward, to get his mouth on Eddie’s. “Touch me,” he begged. Just having Eddie inside of him wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough and Eddie knew that. “Don’t be mean–” “Angel, we both know you like it when I’m a little mean.” Eddie’s hand slipped down to Steve’s shoulder blade, to one of the deep bruises he’d left as he’d pounded Steve into the mattress the night before. “Don’t you?” “Ed–” Steve gasped as Eddie’s hand dropped down from his back and between his asscheeks. He was loose, open, had already taken Eddie twice that morning, too, and had the mess left in his underwear as proof. It was so easy for Eddie to shift just a little and have a finger sliding in right alongside his cock. “That what you wanted, pretty thing?” Eddie snapped his hips up once and Steve had to catch himself against Eddie’s chest. “God, look at you. So fucking greedy. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes–” Steve was sobbing. He felt rattled, exposed, stretched so fucking wide in a way that only Eddie had ever done to him. “Please– more–” Eddie’s other hand was on his throat then, squeezing until Steve could barely get a sound out, until his eyes were rolling into the back of his head from how goddamn overwhelming this was. “I told you to be quiet, didn’t I?” Teeth dragged over Steve’s jaw, down below his ear. “It’s like you want the whole world to hear what I’m doin’ to you, like you want them to know how much you like being a slut for me, huh? How much you like being mine ?” Steve could only nod and rock that much harder. Too much, too fucking much and yet not enough to push him over the edge– Eddie slipped a second finger inside and drove up hard again, again, steady thrusts that hit his prostate and had sparks going off in Steve’s brain. He could only sit there and take it, take everything this beautiful monster of a man wanted to give him and then some.

“Are you gonna be quiet if I let go?” Eddie asked. “Are you gonna be my good boy?” Steve nodded. Eddie’s fingers loosened. And with a stifled, broken cry, Steve arched his back as his orgasm rushed through him so hard it almost fucking hurt. Eddie’s fingers were out of his body, a hand was in his hair to guide his face into Eddie’s neck. He smelled like sweat and whiskey, and being pressed there muffled the noises Steve made as Eddie fucked into him roughly again. 

Eddie barely made a sound as he spilled into Steve’s body for the third time. 

They sat there, letting sweat and tears and come dry on their skin, until Steve had stopped shaking and could formulate a full sentence. Eddie would kiss him, tell him how sweet he was before he found Steve’s underwear and track shorts where they’d been thrown aside. When Steve’s legs regained feeling he would get his clothes on. 

Eddie would tuck his cock away. 

And before Steve was allowed to settle back down with his legs in Eddie’s lap, two more tally marks would have to be added to their ongoing count. One, in pencil, to the wallpaper behind the couch. And one in permanent marker to the inside of Steve’s thigh.

A brand for the two of them– for Eddie – to see. 

[deluxewhump]

I Know You Remember Me

John recognizes a wealthy client’s stolen pet immediately, even filthy, with two black eyes. He moves quickly to buy him back from the box truck driver in possession of him, and then must think what to do about this. Meanwhile, he looks after the abused pet in a motel room.

CW: lay it on thick hurt/comfort, pet whump universe (not bbu), caretaker has some ulterior motives but is largely sympathetic, offscreen noncon with multiple whumpers, sti mention, underweight whumpee mention, whumpee offering sex, bruises, burns & cigarette burns, nonsexual nudity and bathing, platonic bed-sharing, medically inaccurate care I’m sure, one shot probably

-

“I know you remember me. I’m sure I remember you.”

The unfortunate creature— for he looked more a creature than a boy in the low light, in the filthy west Texas motel room John had rented for the night with cash— dared to steal a glance up at him.

His eyes were dark, and bright with fear. Bruises ringed both of them like an unlucky fighter, purple as the Easter cloth draped on all the crosses they’d driven past. John knew from the taut look of the eyelids they’d been swollen shut a day or so earlier. The boy pet had dried blood caked in his nostrils and on one side of his downturned mouth. His hair was a matted and filthy mop that fell over his forehead and ears in greasy, wavy sections crusted together with more old blood.

The boy looked at him cautiously. There was too much fear in his posture, in his eyes. It was impossible to tell if he recognized John, too.

John squatted down to be eye level. As he thought it might, this made the frightened pet drop his eyes and flatten his spine as best he could against the nicotine stained paint of the motel wall.

“Hey, now,” John murmured, as if to one of his racehorses. They were spirited, flighty things, nothing like the quarter horses he’d grown up with. He talked to them all the same, though, from the spring colts to the swaybacked veterans.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I know you’ve seen a lot of people lately, huh? You probably don’t remember me. That’s okay. I remember you. You were at Jack Kinsington’s place before all this.”

The boy did not look back up at him, and his dirty hair gave away his trembling, but he was listening.

“I came by with a couple of horses. Bays, both of them. Soaked in sweat and prancing all around, you remember them? They’re high strung, they don’t like to ride in the trailer. Anyway, I told Jack he ought to let you stretch your legs. He did, but you were so numb you couldn’t stand for a while. You looked right at me.”

The boy turned his head an inch, so he could glance up at John’s face again.

“You remember that day. Sure you do. I thought you were in rough shape then, but I have to say, you look worse now.”

That lost him the eye contact. That was okay. The boy remembered. If not his face, then the incident.

“I thought it was awfully cruel to keep you in a space that small,” he went on. “I don’t know how some people do to a person what they wouldn’t do to an animal. They justify it, I guess. They project things onto these pets they buy and then they punish them for it. Gives them their kicks. Even Jack Kinsington, who I have to admit I respected up until that day.”

He stopped that train of thought.

“Why don’t we get you up off the floor there and let me take care of you, huh? No offense, you look kind of like roadkill.”

The boy made no sound, no indication that he’d even heard except for the way his chest expanded a little faster with his quickening breath. The poor thing's heart must be pounding. John had a knack for fixing things up, be it a business his brother had fucked up or a lame horse, a broken water heater or a vehicle. He spent less time fixing things now and more time delegating what other people needed to fix, but this boy was downright hurting his innermost, rarely expressed tenderness of heart, and he wanted to fix something for him.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said again. His knees were getting tired in this deep squat, and his boots had no give in the toes for it. “I’m gonna clean you up and look after you. You don’t have to do anything, just don’t fight me too much. Can you do that?”

He reached out and laid a hand over the boy’s. The abused pet flinched but didn’t jerk away. John encircled the boy’s wrist in his hand and pulled it slowly away from his body, towards him. “Can you stand?” he asked, pushing himself to standing and bringing the boy with him.

He made it to his feet, and was nearly as tall as John, but stumbled when he tried to take a step.

“Please,” he whispered reflexively as John moved closer, flinching to protect his battered face.

“Please what, baby?” John muttered, lifting the boy’s arm over the back of his shoulders and wrapping his arm around his slim waist to help him walk. “You’re okay, you’re right here. I’ve got you. Let’s get you in the tub.”

Slowly, they staggered to the motel bathroom a d John flicked on the staggeringly white lights that buzzed and hummed to life. He sat the boy on the lip of the low bathtub as gently as he could.

“I’m going to give you a bath,” he said matter-of-factly, turning the taps so warm water began to fill the tub. “Where did all this blood come from?”

The boy was watching him warily, dark eyes following his every move.

“You hear me? Where’s all this dried blood coming from, huh?”

“I don’t know.”

John nodded, pleased the boy had spoken. Some didn’t, or wouldn’t, he knew, not once they looked like this one did.

“Did they beat you? Is that what all this is from?”

He gave a small nod, blinking in discomfort at John’s bluntness.

“Did they hurt you in any other ways?”

He nodded again.

John felt a tug of adrenaline in the pit of his stomach. “How?”

Jack’s pet looked evasively at the rising bath water.

“If you tell me how you’re hurt, I can help you better.”

Nothing.

“What’s your name?”

“Paulo.”

He put the emphasis on the au, and there was a way he said his L that positioned the tongue differently than he did when saying other words.

“Paulo,” John said, putting the emphasis on the vowels of the first syllable too, but with no attempt at altering his very American L. I’m John. I bought you from that man, the one with the box truck. I take it Jack Kinsington sold you? Or were you stolen?”

Tears shimmered in the boy’s dark eyes, swollen and purple still like a raccoon mask. He bit the inside of his cheek to steel himself and keep from letting them fall.

John gentled his voice. “Paulo. I only ask because it’s important. If you legally belong to Jack, I gotta bring you back to him.”

Paulo’s head snapped up. He lost control of the tears, which spilled down his bruised cheeks. He grabbed hold of John’s sleeves, pulling himself closer as if his whole body was not bruised and sore. “No,” he begged urgently. “Please. I’ll do anything. Please. I-I’ll do anything you want, I can’t… please don’t….”

An idea dawned on him and he let go of his latest captor’s sleeve in order to lift his trembling fingers to his own tattered shirt. He pulled it over his head with a barely-suppressed whimper of pain. His torso was bruised like his face and arms, dark black and purple impact points on his warm toned skin like fists or boots, some that looked like electric burns left from a cattle prod and others more reminiscent of the yellow, oozing wounds cigarettes tended to leave. He was ribby, in a dehydrated, sudden sort of way that looked like he hadn’t eaten much of anything in the last few days.

He started on the button of his pants and John reached out to stop him. “Hey. No. What’s this?”

“Do- do you prefer girls? I can be just as good for you.” His glittering eyes were simultaneously like a starving animal and horribly blank. “They all say so.”

Ah. There was an answer to one of his questions. He pulled Paulo’s wrists away from the opening of his pants, held them in his own on the cool edge of the tub between them. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not interested.”

“I could take a bath,” he whispered hopefully.

“You will take a bath. But I’m still not interested. I need to know— were you given to someone by Jack Kinsington rightfully, or were you stolen?”

The fear was back. John didn’t know which was worse on this one, the dead eyes or the fear. “Don’t take me back to him.”

“He hurt you a lot, then? Jack?”

John already figured as much. Despite his admiration for the man’s business sense, he was a cruel and sadistic pet owner. Once he’d seen a boy shoved into a cage fit for a fox, he’d reconciled that much in his mind. It was like that often, when it came to human pets, and never quite who you’d expect.

The boy begged miserably. “Please, Sir. I’ll do anything.”

“You mentioned that. He didn’t sell you, did he?”

Paulo glanced down.

So he’d bought a stolen pet. That’s what he more or less suspected when he’d seen the boy at the rest stop, weeks after he’d seen him in the cage at Jack’s and much worse for wear.

Jack Kinsington would probably be even more open to buying more of John’s racehorses in the near future if he returned his favorite boy-pet to him. Don’t worry what it cost to get him back, Jack. Less than the yearling I’ve got for you to look at this spring, I can tell you that. Call it even.

John turned off the taps and tested the water with his fingers. He’d wondered if the boy would be willing to take those filthy clothes off in front of him, but seeing as he’d just offered himself, he thought it more likely now.

“Take those off,” he said of the boy’s remaining clothing. “You can borrow some of mine when you’re cleaned up.”

Despite his offer less than five minutes ago, Paulo was modest to the point of shyness once he was naked.

“It’s okay. I’m not even looking at you,” John assured him a little gruffly as he helped him into the water. “I just want to get you clean.”

Paulo flinched as he submerged, undoubtedly feeling every burn, cut, and bruise as he did. He was so dirty that tear tracks were now visible on his face from his crying. John wet a rough motel washcloth in the warm water and brought it to his face. He dabbed and nudged the dried blood from Paulo’s mouth and nose. The boy tried very hard not to flinch and shy away, and in return he tried to be very gentle. “Good,” he said quietly, wetting the cloth and returning it to the blood and swollen tissue. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

Paulo made brief eye contact with him at that, probably because it had become a foreign concept that someone would make an effort against hurting him. Just as quickly he slid his gaze away, back to an indeterminate point on the bathroom tile.

“You wanna do this next part?”

Paulo didn’t answer.

John moved as gently and quickly as was prudent over the rest of his body, knowing he was hurting him when he passed over the yellowed cigarette burns on his legs and hips.

“I know. You’re gonna be okay. Almost done. You’re doing really well.”

Paulo let John wash his hair, using some of the hotel shampoo that would likely sting some cuts but was desperately needed. He closed his eyes as John worked his fingers through the blood and dirt, the snarls coming apart slowly with gentle patience. As he rinsed the boy’s dark hair clean, John noticed he had stopped shaking.

He drained the now red-brown water and wrapped Paulo in a white hotel towel. He looked better clean, though there was nothing to do for the bruises but wait. He sat on the side of the motel bed as John went through his black duffel bag, pulling out sweatpants, a gray cotton T-shirt, and ibuprofen for him.

Paulo dressed in the bathroom and accepted two of the pills. He came out and sat on the end of the bed afterwards, staring at the pattern on the comforter.

“Does Jack know who had you?” John asked as he set up his phone charger. “The guy with the box truck out there?”

Paulo shook his head. “That man wasn’t the first.”

So he’d been bought and sold multiple times since being stolen—kidnapped— from Jack's property. It was possible Jack knew the original perpetrators, but had no idea where his pet was now. John sighed. His mind was working analytically, trying to understand every facet of the situation before he acted— trying to understand how he could manipulate it most in his favor. But that all felt shallow and cruel when he truly saw the boy in front of him, his damp hair and his bruised face, his narrow chest and the way he was nervously picking at a scab on the inside of his wrist.

“Don’t do that,” John said softly. “I don’t want you getting any infections.”

Paulo stopped immediately but looked intrigued by the care in that statement. Likely no one had said anything like it to him in a long while now.

“Are you hungry?”

Paulo shrugged. John raised his eyebrows and he went with a more committed shake of the head. “No, Sir.”

“…Are you scared?”

The boy swallowed, touched the scab on his wrist without picking it.

He’d said it before, but he knew he’d have to say it a hundred more times, and show it a thousand, before it sunk in. He likely would not end up doing that, but he’d say it as long as the pet was in his possession. “I promise I'm not gonna hurt you.”

“What, then?” Paulo asked, shrugging one shoulder to his ear in what felt like embarrassment at his own question.

“If I’m not going to hurt you? What then?”

He nodded.

“Nothing. I'm gonna take you back to Tennessee.”

“To Jack?”

“For the time being, to my place in Lewisburg. I have a farm.”

“What kind of farm?”

“Horses. You wanna come?”

He said he did. Not that he had much of a choice. John suspected they both knew that killing him on the side of a dirt road in west Texas would be better than what might happen if he took him back to Tennessee and failed to promptly return him to Jack. Jack would take it out on his lost little pet as much as he did John.

“I can’t believe you’re still even sitting up and talking. Come here.” John stood up and pulled the corner of the bedsheets down. “Lie down.”

Paulo did as he asked.

Before John would cover him up he asked, “Can you tell me if anyone kicked you in the back or abdomen, or if you feel any pain when you move or breathe?”

He thought about that. “I don’t know. I’m sore.”

“Any sharp pains, anything feel broken?”

“No?”

“Can I touch your stomach right here? It won’t be for long.”

A little apprehensive, Paulo agreed. John placed his hands on his abdomen and prodded his way along, trying to feel anything amiss or to get a sharp yell from Paulo. None came.

“Does this hurt anywhere more than soreness?”

“No,” his patient said in a small voice.

“Okay,” he said, and covered the boy to his chest with the blankets. “I’m done. Thank you. I was worried you might have internal bleeding, or broken ribs.”

“I don’t think so.”

“We’ll need to get you checked for other things too, soon. Make sure you didn’t contract anything.”

It took a moment for this to register, but when it did, Paulo blushed scarlet.

“It’s okay,” John assured him. His next gesture surprised him. Tenderly, he brushed the back of his knuckles to an unbruised spot on Paulo’s cheek. He was quickly becoming endeared to this unfortunate little pet. “You’re probably alright. And even in the event you did, it’s not your fault.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to?” Paulo asked, leaning his cheek almost imperceptibly into John’s knuckles.

John retracted his hand. “No. I didn’t want to because I am not interested in hurting you.”

“I said you could.”

“You and I both know it would still be hurting.”

Paulo laid his head back on the pillow. “I don’t understand what you want.”

“For starters, I want you to tell me what you want to eat.”

He didn’t eat much, but he did make an effort. John got the impression he was suspicious of every simple kindness, every time there were footsteps outside their door in the breezeway.

When he turned out the light and put a partition of pillows between them to sleep, he felt Paulo start awake every time a car pulled into the parking lot, or the AC beneath the window kicked on with a rattle.

“You’re okay,” he said drowsily from across the pillow divide, which made it feel more like bunking together and less like sharing a bed. “Nobody knows you’re here. Nobody knows where you are at all. That door is deadbolted. And I’m here between the rest of the world and you. You can sleep tonight. Nothing can hurt you.”

He doubted words would actually help, since the boy's nerves were probably completely shot, and who knows when was the last time he’d had a good nights sleep, and felt safe enough to do so? Still, he thought it should be nice to hear. It was the least he could do. He didn’t make any undue promises. Just tonight.

Paulo was quiet for a minute, and then John heard a wet sniff that was the unmistakable sound of crying. He didn’t think he should say ‘don’t cry’ to someone in his position, so he didn’t. He just listened from across the pillows until the little pet fell asleep.

[gatheringbones]

[“To Larraine, putting something on layaway was saving. “I can’t leave money in my bank,” she said. “When you’re on SSI you can only have so much money in the bank, and it’s got to be less than a thousand dollars. Because if it’s more…they cut your payments until that money is spent.”

Larraine was talking about SSI’s “resource limit.” She was allowed to have up to $2,000 in the bank, not $1,000 like she thought, but anything more than that could result in her losing benefits. Larraine saw this rule as a clear disincentive to save. “If I can’t keep my money in the bank, then I might as well buy something worthwhile…because I know once I pay on it, it’s mine, and no one can take it from me, just like my jewelry.” Well, no one except Eagle Moving.

Before her eviction, Beaker had asked Larraine why she didn’t just sell her jewelry and pay Tobin. “Of course I’m not going to do that,” she said. “I worked way too hard for me to sell my jewelry….I’m not going to sell my life savings because I’m homeless or I got evicted.” It wasn’t like she had just stumbled into a pit and would soon climb out. Larraine imagined she would be poor and rent-strapped forever. And if that was to be her lot in life, she might as well have a little jewelry to show for it.

(…) When Larraine spent money or food stamps on nonessentials, it baffled and frustrated people around her, including her niece, Sammy, Susan and Lane’s daughter. “My aunt Larraine is one of those people who will see some two-hundred-dollar beauty cream that removes her wrinkles and will go and buy it instead of paying the rent,” said Sammy, a hairstylist with her own shop in Cudahy. “I don’t know why she just doesn’t stick to a budget.” Pastor Daryl felt the same way, saying that Larraine was careless with her money because she operated under a “poverty mentality.”

To Sammy, Pastor Daryl, and others, Larraine was poor because she threw money away. But the reverse was more true. Larraine threw money away because she was poor.

Before she was evicted, Larraine had $164 left over after paying the rent. She could have put some of that away, shunning cable and Walmart. If Larraine somehow managed to save $50 a month, nearly one-third of her after-rent income, by the end of the year she would have $600 to show for it—enough to cover a single month’s rent. And that would have come at considerable sacrifice, since she would sometimes have had to forgo things like hot water and clothes. Larraine could have at least saved what she spent on cable. But to an older woman who lived in a trailer park isolated from the rest of the city, who had no car, who didn’t know how to use the Internet, who only sometimes had a phone, who no longer worked, and who sometimes was seized with fibromyalgia attacks and cluster migraines—cable was a valued friend.

People like Larraine lived with so many compounded limitations that it was difficult to imagine the amount of good behavior or self-control that would allow them to lift themselves out of poverty. The distance between grinding poverty and even stable poverty could be so vast that those at the bottom had little hope of climbing out even if they pinched every penny. So they chose not to. Instead, they tried to survive in color, to season the suffering with pleasure. They would get a little high or have a drink or do a bit of gambling or acquire a television. They might buy lobster on food stamps. If Larraine spent her money unwisely, it was not because her benefits left her with so much but because they left her with so little. She paid the price for her lobster dinner. She had to eat pantry food the rest of the month. Some days, she simply went hungry. It was worth it. “I’m satisfied with what I had,” she said. “And I’m willing to eat noodles for the rest of the month because of it.”

Larraine learned a long time ago not to apologize for her existence. “People will begrudge you for anything,” she said. She didn’t care that the checkout clerk looked at her funny. She got the same looks when she bought the $14 tart balsamic vinegar or ribs or on-sale steak or chicken. Larraine loved to cook. “I have a right to live, and I have a right to live like I want to live,” she said. “People don’t realize that even poor people get tired of the same old taste. Like, I literally hate hot dogs, but I was brought up on them. So you think, ‘When I get older, I will have steak.’ So now I’m older. And I do.”]

matthew desmond, from evicted: poverty and profit in the american city, 2016

[dietmountaindewbae]

young Al anon again, when I mean Dom. I meant horrid cocky piece of shit 20 year old Alex being merciless because he sees the reader as just a groupie from his new fame

xxi. your band is all the rage

alex turner x reader

word count: 6348

summary: Glastonbury festival (2007) was here, you and your friends adventure into the festival, but on the way you get lost, and you run into the boy that was taped to your bedroom walls (fwn! Alex) you didn't expect what would happen next...

warnings: sp*t, or*al, dr*gs, alc*ohl, degr*ting

song recommendation: paper planes by M.I.A

───── ୨୧ ─────

The lingering pre-euphoric feeling of being in Glasto watching and hearing your favorite band live with your most real friends, drinks being poured down your throat like water, and breathing pot smoke like part of the oxygen was magical, it would be hard to forget this year, you recently moved to London for college living in a little flat with your two best friends, and a small puppy that was like your son, staying up late and sleeping until the next day, you had saved up enough for Glasto, all the money that was for the rent ended up in there, but it was worth it, the muddy boots, thick leather jackets, long belts, short skirts, and broken tights, busted knees.

"For fucks sake!" You screamed trying to find a signal in the middle of the field, looking so lost and silly with your arm up high in the sky all stressed up, you had lost your friends after Amy Winehouse went up the stage, and you spend hours trying to find them, and you began to feel worried, and paranoid, the whole day you were stuck together like glue, but then drinks swung one after the other and you were pissed throughout the concerts and suddenly you were alone singing with Amy, somehow you managed to find a spot with one bar of weak signal, you choose to follow that signal until it was getting stronger which let you thru some bushes in the darkness you battled your way out, you walked for a few moments depending on your phone's light for illumination until somehow, you managed to find the camp where everyone who headlined was, you sneaked around when you saw some security walking around the place, you sneaked your way thru some bushes until you found reception again, the trailer that you were hiding behind, for your luck had the door unlocked and you hide from security.

"Shit, shit, shit..." You whispered over and over again, as you tripped over something that knocked you to the table, the moment the lights went on your heart dropped to your stomach as your paths crossed with none other than the boy with a shaggy and short haircut that you've been crazy about for years wearing some denim jeans and a black long sleeve shirt, the one with his face all over your room, you looked for him in magazines and in person he looked just like a normal human.

"Um... excuse me... who are you looking for?" He was alone with his eyes a bit swollen and his hair made a mess as if he had just woken up and was trying to decipher wether he was dreaming you or not, you didn't realize how stupid you were by going inside the trailer, face red, you looked everywhere and anywhere for a quick answer since your brain couldn't develop one.

"I- um..." You awkwardly giggle, "I'm just lookin' for my mates, I lost them or they lost me... I-I dunno... I-I'm sorry I should go, I'm such a prick" Your knees were bruised, but you managed to get yourself up and fix your dress.

"But... how did you get here?" He said, looking at you like you were the dumbest person alive.

His eyes roam your body with no shame, his breathing short as he sees the way your mouth moves as you speak, how your eyes have this little sparkle whenever he looks at you, and how you couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second, your brain taking pictures of his faces, "That's a good question, I've been wondering that myself too... I just found a little bit of reception here, and-"

He clears out his throat cutting you off, "You know what? It don't matter... you can stay, just don't go inside anyone's trailer like that again doll, you can get in serious trouble" He called you a doll, and you smiled to yourself at the fact that Alex fucking Turner had called you a doll, "Want a drink?" Holly fuck, you cursed into your head.

"Sure... yeah that'll be cool" You walked around the monkeys trailer as Alex turned on his blender, throwing on some ice in two cups, all the things that you wanted to say, and scream simply couldn't be spilled out of your mouth as your mind took pictures of every bit of the messy trailer, you could spot Matt's drumsticks, and Nick's bass, you were more than excited when you saw Jamie's owl strap hanged in the settee, and when your eyes ran across Alex's little hard covered open notebook, you wanted to read it so badly.

"Margaritas!" He handed you over a cool red plastic cup, sitting beside you on his olive green settee, "Cheers, love" He watched you pour his margarita down your mouth with the biggest look of relief, he smiled, eying you up and down from the side, you bet you were looking dirty and sweaty, your dress didn't hide much of your body, it made your legs longer with your gold dress and leather belt around your hips, with your dirty rain boots, and your trashed eyeliner with gold sparkles on your eyelids, but not only was your face that captivated him, your smooth legs with bleeding bumps on them, if he looked more higher he could see your pair of black knickers.

"Fuck, I never thought this would happen..." You admitted, pushing your hands through your hair, the palm of your hand on your forehead.

"What?" He leaned in closer.

You sighed looking down at your cup because you couldn't look at his face for long, "It's my first festival" You said with a smile, "Well it's our first festival, and I dunno... I saw this coming but I was hoping it wouldn't happen, losing all of my girls just like that" You snapped your fingers.

"This is what happens when you give young girls more booze than they can handle" He chuckled while you awkwardly laughed at his comment, maybe that was his sense of humor, he saw you smiling so he took that as a sign that you were getting into him, his body began to close the space between yours very slowly, leaning in, "To be honest, I'm sort of glad you crashed here," His arm rested on the head of the couch, his fingers lightly touching your shoulder, "To finally have someone that's easy to talk to" You smiled not quite sure to take what he said as a compliment but you politely took what he said as something possibly positive.

"Well... thank you," You said, smiling and resting your head on his hand, his fingers intertwined with your hair, you felt embarrassed about the way you had rudely woke him up just a few minutes ago, you thought it was the right moment to apologize since he had gone quiet, but what he did was admiring your face, "When I... crashed here, where you asleep?" You asked kindly, he nodded his head, "I'm sorry for waking you up" His hand pats your thigh gently, and you look at him in the eyes, and he shrugs with a smile.

"I'm happy you did though, I dunno why but whenever I'm 'bout to play at any festival I just have terrible nightmares, then you came and I thought I was still dreaming" You blushed at the comment, even if it was a cliché, he was just as you imagined he would be, sweet and shy, handsome as well with a touch of cockiness for some spice, you noticed he wasn't as smooth sometimes when it came to flirting but at least he didn't say anything stupid, he was a dork.

"What was it about?" He shrugged smiling to himself again, he stared into your eyes, something in them thrilled you when they shine.

"About me shoes...." You both break into laughter, he sees that familiar spark in your eyes, your smile charming him, so he decides to leave behind his shyness and take a chance with you, "Can I tell you summat?" You nodded, "This is me first Glasto too, so why don't we make it unforgettable together?" Your head raised when he proposed you to stay with him, his hand landing on your knee.

"You reckon?" He said yes with his head, "Really?"

"Yeah, I can write your girls on the list, we'll have a party after the show ends," With no doubt, you said yes, "You're welcome..." You told him your name and you heard him say it back at you with a smile, you pinched yourself to prove that you weren't dreaming this, but this was real, Alex Turner knows about your existence and asked you to stay with him.

"I don't think I need an introduction, right?" You giggled saying no, "Right then, follow me doll, we're almost up" He put your margarita down, and grabbed your hand turning off the lights of his trailer and grabbed a black coat on the way out, on the walk backstage he never dropped your hand, properly holding it, fingers intertwined, his hand soft, and his fingertips bumpy and thick, you went thru the woods his hand gripping yours tightly until you were at the back of the big pyramid, it was so strange looking at it from that angle but it was still magnificent, there was a big white tent right next to the stage, security stopped you and Alex before going inside.

"She's with me, we also have more people coming with us," Out of his pocket he took out his wallet, sliding some money into the palm of his hand, the big man that was twice the size of you and Alex, nodded his head.

"Names" That's the only thing he said, you wrote them down on a piece of ripped paper he gave you and went inside with ease, the place was poorly illuminated but you recognized everyone, your pulse speeding up when you saw that iconic 60's bee hive black hair of hers, walking towards you with her black tank top, leather belt around her waist and beautiful red skirt and her big eyeliner.

"Aye, kiddo!" Amy approached the both of you with a cigarette trapped between her teeth, "It's wild out there, I just wanted to tell you to have fun, it's big and I'm sure after this you lots will only go up and up" She blew the smoke at your face, you were honored, "And who is this?" She greets you with a big friendly hug and kiss on your cheek, you tell her your name and she scans you up and down, "You look very fit"

You internally screamed, "You were amazing out there, me and my gals were-"

"Meh, a bit shit," She said making you laugh, "But have a nice night, I'll see you at the party right?" She repeated your name and you were only able to nod your head and she said goodbye to you, walking to her trailer with her security.

"Shit, I can't believe that just happened" You covered your mouth, "Amy, just... bloody hell" Alex laughed along with you.

"I know, big fan as well, she's just lovely... come to meet the rest" The rest? you were about to enter into a coma if you met the rest, "There's a signal here as well" Shit, you forgot about that, you walked away for a moment phoning your girls.

"Chelsea?" You yelled, there was a lot of noise but when she said your name you were relieved, "You won't believe what just happened but I'm in the back of the fucking pyramid with Arctic Monkeys and I just fucking saw Amy!" Your friend began yelling like a little child but you managed to explain to her how to get there, "Find Gracie," She promised you she would and to phone you when she was there, you finished the call, and Alex waved his hand at you with a big smile, you ran to meet him, your heart rate speeding when you saw the rest of the guys together.

He pulled you in, his arm around your waist, sticking your body next to his, and introducing you to the guys, "Lovely to meet you" Nick said hugging you and padding your back, Matt and Jamie did as well, and Katie who's Jamie's girlfriend gave you a big hug.

"Finally, a girl! I was tired of all of that testosterone and cologne" Katie pulled you away from Alex, "You don't mind if I steal her away from you for a couple of minutes, do you Al?" He looks at you and back at Katie, she practically had already claimed you.

"Mmm, just don't take long, I want her to see our set" Katie raised her beer and nodded.

"Sure you do... come" She grabbed your hand pulling you to a corner, "I've been dying to fix my hair and makeup!" She said, "Do you mind holding your light and my purse?"

"Oh, no, not at all!" You held your phone up, as she took her lip gloss and mirror out from her little Prada purse, "Shit, I don't know where my bag is" Her laughter was contagious, you were put at ease by her presence.

"You're lovely, do you mind?" She gave you her mirror and you held it up for her as she fixed some gloss on her lips, and some powder on her face, patting it gently on her nose and under her eyes, "Here, have some too," She pats it into your face, taking out some of your runny makeup with her fingers, she put some pinkish lipstick on your cheeks and her cheeks, lastly applying more gloss on your mouth, "Done, let's go back before Al yells at us" Your phone began to buzz like crazy.

"That was fast, my mates are here, I'll be back" She held your hand, she was compromised not to leave your side.

"I'm coming with you" She quickly put her things back in place and ran with you to the entrance hand in hand pushing everyone away with a lot of 'excuse me' and 'sorry', you hugged both of your girls tightly, all of you relieved you were back together, all in one piece.

"Fuckin' hell, where did you guys go?! You left me!" You yelled at them and Chelsea hugged you so hard your lungs ran out of air.

"Gracie saw me running to the bushes to throw up and then we lost you, and then she lost me but I'm fine now!" When Chelsea got drunk she acted like that, that's how your friend was and more than being mad at her you were happy that now you were together.

"Girls, this is Katie!" Katie kindly hugged the girls and all of them already knew who Katie Downs was, the rockstar model girlfriend, a goddess to many girls, all of you looked out to her for pulling Jamie Cook, and now when you went back inside, and saw Alex with that evil cocky smile on his face you could tell he was looking at you shamelessly, when you walk into the room it was hard for Alex to not picture those black knickers falling to your ankles, and that dress to the floor, or your bruised knees getting new ones, you were something else, and Alex wanted you, when he saw you so messy, and so sexy, he just wanted to get to see more of you, get a peek of what was behind that dress.

This time when he saw you, his arm possesively around your lower back, his hand falling to your hip gripping it tight and playing with the studs on your belt. Chelsea quickly caught up on him and the way he was whispering things to your ear and making you laugh, his nose taking a sniff of your scent, he was desperate for the party to come.

"Monkeys!" The staff announced, and Matt alongside Nick were the first to go running up the stairs. Before Jamike walked in, he pulled Katie to a dark corner in the staircase to kiss her deeply gripping her sides tightly, you and Alex crossed looks with each other as you saw them kissing, you blushed when Alex pulled you away to a dark corner before he came up the stairs, caging you in between his arms.

"Aren't you gonna wish me some luck?" One of his hands dropped to your ass gripping it lightly, he bit his bottom lip with a smudge smile, looking at you needy like a teenager, you smiled, taking a step close and kissing his cheek.

"Good luck Al" That's all you said, his smile was quick to come off when he didn't get what he wanted, you could see it crystal clear but you wouldn't let that man go without something to hold on to, you grabbed his hand stopping him, "I'm not done with you yet..."

"Alex!" They yelled but he ignored them when you put his hands on your lower back, your arms wrapping around the back of his head, living a lingering kiss on his mouth, opening it to slip your tongue inside his mouth, his hand went up to your neck, his grip loose around it but his thumb caressed your skin, you took your lips off from his mouth, and he leaned in for more, but you attacked his neck nibbling on his skin, and whispering in his ear, "Would you sing one for me, Al?" Your eyes tender, he smiled and gave you a peck.

"Mmm, yeah babe... just wait for me, I'll show you summat else after I wrap it up here, enjoy the show" He went back with the rest, all of their heads turning to you and Alex, of course, they knew what was going on but you couldn't care less.

"Be careful" Chelsea said, she was more rational than Gracie who was more boy obsessed, she loved boys so much that she, of course, would support your decision to stay with Alex, "You know rockstars, they hit it, lit it and quit it," You hummed as a yes, you were cornered, in the wonder, would it be worth it to spend the night with Alex or to hit and run before he does that to you?

The crowd screams wildly as they see them walk onto the stage, without saying a word they begin to play, everyone recognizes the song in the very first strum of his bronco, and the crowd sings the lyrics along with Alex.

"So who's that girl there? I wonder what went wrong so that she had to run the streets she don't do major credit cards"

As the show settles down after the first song ends, the next no one begins back to back, Alex shared his excitement with the chanting crowd you were dancing and jumping thru the whole gig, "We'd like to play a cover for you Glastonbury, ladies and gentlemen, it's like I said before, you know it only happens once...we're fucking like thrilled, thrilled and we just wanted ...like make it out for everyone to have a good time you know?"

He kept smiling whenever he looked at you in certain lyrics that he dedicated to you when he sang 'Diamonds Are Forever', you had no words to describe how euphoric you felt when you turned 18 you thought your life as a teenage girl was over but you still feel like that young girl that hopelessly wore her heart on her sleeve, when Alex looks at you, a fire in your belly spreads wildly, you couldn't control it, you wanted to be all over him, you didn't care anymore, it was pure young lust, and it was something he wasn't hiding either. At that moment, when he saw thousands of people waving their arms, chanting, clapping, jumping, and throwing themselves, the monkeys felt that they'd made it, all of them had an itch inside their tummies, and all of them could feel it in each other, this was it, this is their moment, this is when they begin.

Alex's lips leaned in closer to the microphone, announcing the next song, "This is called 'Leave Before The Lights Come On' ladies and gentlemen.... and I should stop saying ladies and gentlemen, that must be about the fourteenth time" He quickly turned to see if he had made you laugh, he knew he had embarrassed himself in front of thousands of people but when he saw you smiling he felt fine.

[...]

His intentions were clear, right as he came down from the stage bathed in sweat his hands landed on your hips, there was a spark in his eyes that was hard to control, that fresh concert euphoric bliss that had his eyes so deeply dilated, that angst he couldn't control like an itch on the roof of his mouth, he couldn't console, he wanted to do you and only you.

"Mate, everyone's going to Lily's tent, we'll see you there, reyt?..." Matt said, Alex just nodding focusing your eyes on you.

"Shit, Chelsea and Grace!" Little did you know that they were also hooking their selves with the guys from Fratellis, specially Chelsea as you imagined, you turned to look at Alex and you fetched them.

"Lily's... now" That's the only thing you said but everyone was gonna be back in the trailers of course, either way you managed to get them all, including Kasabian, Fratellis, Amy, and The Killers were there too, you were baffled by the amount of people you met and all the pictures you took with each of them, but it didn't take long until you had to get out for a necessary cigarette break.

Just when you had relaxed and sat on your legs to enjoy your cigarette you heard someone say, "There you were" Your heart speeds when you see Alex, and you quickly stand up and keep smoking.

"I lost you, with all of those girls in there... I thought you had forgotten about me," You said with a hint of annoyance, he nudged his head to the side and said no.

"I'm not finished with you yet... I could have all of them and you know that, right?" That was very hard to accept but who were you kidding? He was right, then he took your cigarette away, pulling you in and pressing your body against him so you could feel how hard he was, he blew the smoke into your mouth wrapping you up in a poisonous and addictive kiss, "Don't flatter yourself" Your cheeks painted dark red without you noticing it, he grabbed your hand and let your way to his camper, both of you knew exactly how things were going to go down.

Alex couldn't wait any longer both getting excited by the anticipation, the ride to his campsite was too far for him, his need for you was too hard, and he needed to get it out of his system, the kiss was enough to get him hooked, he couldn't get you out of his head the whole gig, and the euphoria, and the bliss, and you... he knew you were more than willing, he pulled you to a bench, settling you on top of him.

He pulled your face to his, slipping his tongue inside you the moment your lips parted to kiss him, his hands gripping your ass tightly, your dress riding up to your hips and that was enough for him to take advantage of, feeling your smooth skin and digging his nails into your ass, you sighed when that piece of thin fabric in your body rubbed against the roughness of his blue denim jeans, "Quite needy" You whispered, at that moment he thrusts his hips, you felt that piece of hard meat coming in direct contact with you, your underwear was so thin, you could feel him entirely.

"You couldn't expect for you to just leave me like that, now do you?" He chocked, "I know what you want" His eyes look down to his bulging boner, you oblige, knees on the ground, your hands on his jeans, stroking him, but he already had figured out exactly what to do with you in his mind, he quickly unbuckled his belt, he didn't want to waste more time while you just wanted to warm him up and tease him to get him more worked up, he took out his cock from his belt your eyes widening at the size, you looked up at him, he was impatient pulling your head down to his cock.

Your mouth closed around him but barely did anything, a big sigh of relief left his lips, and you smiled your eyes coming in contact with his, "I don't have all night" He said demandingly, you began to gather up a steady pace, sucking hard but not going too fast, swirling your tongue around his red tip, while your hand strokes the rest of his dick, "Are you gonna blow me or what? You're wasting me time"

He pulled your head back and your hands gripped his thighs to not let him go, "No, no! Wait... I'm sorry" Here you were, down on your knees being the one that apologized to him because you weren't doing a good enough job in Alex's eyes, but he still had a little trace of goodness, and the chances of him treating you more like shit would make you better, he could see how hard you tried, how much you wanted to please him, he wouldn't let down a chance like this, a girl that would beg to suck his dick.

"Sorry won't make me cum, just get down you fuckin' cunt" You leaned in forward, pushing your hair behind your ears, sliding his cock down your throat, he chocked out a groan, his whole body relaxing on the bench, and sighed and said, "Fuckin' finally..." You tried your best to keep your breathing steady, but you couldn't stop gagging around him, his size too thick, you drew some of his cock back, going back to rimming his cock with your tongue, he pulled your head back, and your mouth drooling, "Hey, is this your first time sucking a dick, you lazy whore? Don't act like you can't do better than just gag," Sliding back your comments about his arrogance you took him in.

Alex moaned as he kept watching you suck him more harshly, your cheeks hollowed the outline of his cock could be seen on your cheek, the exaggerated moans that fell from his mouth could tell you than more than enjoying your warm, wet, and greedy mouth he enjoyed himself, he only saw you as that, as something he could use to play with, to make himself feel higher, more confident, and you liked that, you liked how much he enjoyed himself so you began to do the same, your hand sliding down in between your legs, and it was obvious, you were soaking wet by now, you enjoyed giving him head so much, him fucking your mouth like it was your pussy, and possibly spilling his cum down your throat, and how much of an asshole he was with you, how little value he gave to you, it pushed you to be wilder, to try harder, to not be scared of him being more rough, you could vividly picture him fucking you, your walls contracting around nothing by the thought, your clit swollen from rubbing it in harsh circles, the vibration of your moaning making him moan louder and louder, he smiled when he saw you touching yourself.

"You're a dirty little slut touching yourself like that, you like how I feel in your mouth huh?" He asked, "You'll like it more when I fill it up" You moaned loudly as your fingers slid in easily, your fingers fucking your hole harder, "You dirty fuck, I'm gonna fuck your mouth until you can't breathe" He pulled your head down, gathering your hair into a ponytail, thrusting his hips, your screams muffled by his cock, you couldn't stop him, he had lost it the moment you kissed him, and now you were paying for it.

Then, the moment you heard people approaching Alex quickly drew back his cock from your mouth, putting it back inside his boxers and zipping up his jeans, he grabbed your hand picked you up from the ground, and dragged you around the tent, behind a three, both of you could hear the music close, and at any moment, anyone could see you two together and that was so thrilling, it's not like he cared, but he wanted to remain some things private, he leans in forward slowly, backing you up against the tree cupping your cheeks, "Kiss me" You closed the space between you and his body, at first he enjoyed the deep kiss, tasting your warm mouth, something about you was quite addictive, you didn't know if it might be the tiniest trace of nicotine or the fact that he just wanted to feel your insides more than just wanting a simple blow.

Alex flips you, face against the tree, his hands dropping to your hips pulling them forward, "Are your little fantasies coming true? You can't lie to me, I knew you were thinking of summat like this... just wanting me inside you this whole time... and you didn't say anything..." You heard the sound of his zipper coming down, you gripped the wood tighter as Alex pushed your dress up to your back, he finally saw what was underneath your golden dress, that thin pair of black knickers, he pushed them aside, and pressed his fingers down on your clit making you sigh, he smiled to himself gathering up a slow tempting pace.

"You're such..." You were cut off the moment his fingers finally made their way into your panties.

"Such a what?" You couldn't stop gasping as his fingers began to fuck your hole more vigorously, deeper, you couldn't stop moaning his name out loud, even if you tried, he filled you up to the top, your legs losing balance, "Such a good fuck, babe?" You whined when he took himself out of you, rimming his dick on your cunt, spreading your wetness all over it.

"Mhm" You whimpered, the tip of his cock was used to rub your weakest spot in circles, you could feel him smiling to himself, whatever happened to that 19-year-old boy that won your heart with his shyness in his interviews, reserved, quiet, a sweet kind smile, now he was all over you, treating you like a trashy whore, but you loved it, it boosts his ego, but nobody had seen this part of Alex Turner, or even felt it, "You are Alex" You whimpered.

"Be quiet sweetheart, or they'll hear you..." He enters you and keeps fucking you like a doll, pressed against you so tight you were seeing the stars in the black sky shining like diamonds, reflecting in your eyes, you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach, his lips pressed against your neck, sucking on it harder to leave his little stamp, his mark, "I bet everyone would be glad to know you got fucked by me..." You didn't know how did he have the strength to keep talking to you while he fucked your insides so good. His lips were so soft against your skin, his cock reaches to a place that covered your flesh in goosebumps, his nose tickling your nape, his hands gripping your tits, squishing them together, kneading them.

"Oh... Alex," You gasp, he had such a delicious rhythm that burned your body and his, the tension making the air thicker, harder and harder for you to catch your breathing, you trembled, your cheeks burning hot as your pussy only got wetter, and nipples got hard.

"I felt that... tell me what it is..." He drawled, but you couldn't sound a syllable, you grabbed his hand, sliding down in between your legs, your back arched as his fingers press down on your clit, your head on his shoulder, your long neck so beautiful in his eyes, his other hand chocked your neck, he kissed you as best as he could, rubbing your clit harder as he feels you contracting, your pussy made a mess, wetting your inner thighs, feeling those tickles, and his dick was pushed deep inside you, only to make you finish all over him, your eyes turning white gasping for some air, making you feel lightheaded, and he let go of your neck before you passed out, but you were sure it wasn't because you couldn't breathe, it was because he fucked you so well, "Now is my turn..." He gathered up a giddy pace, so fast that the sound of his hips colliding against your body sounded like applause, your ass turning tender and soft like a piece of dough, he was coming to an end, and so did you for the second time, he pushed himself harder, "Cum all over me cock, you dirty cunt... fuckin' do it" He flicked your clit and you came again, not being able to stand on your feet any longer, he pulled out of you fast to cum on your back, the warm fluid dripping down your hips and bum, "Shit, shit... oh fuck" He gave himself a few strokes to squeeze everything out when he opened his eyes again he began to panic a bit, he researched in his jeans for something to clean you up.

You quietly giggled and kicked your panties off your feet, "Just use these" You panted, he grabbed them and he pushed his lips together.

"But I'm gonna ruin them" He pouts, you wave it off and he cleans up your back, once he is done, you take your coat off, wrapping it around your waist, he feels bad about it, and you can see it on his face, "What's wrong?"

"Ruined a sexy pair of knickers," Your fingers brushed the hairs on his forehead, and you kindly smiled at him, pecking his lips.

"It was for a good cause," You made him laugh, and it was the silliest, sweetest, and most contagious laugh ever, you've heard it before on the radio when they interviewed them, but it was nothing like real life, "Besides, I always keep a spare on my purse" He pushed his eyebrows together, smiling, his smile was the one that made your insides melt.

"Now I'm curious to see what's inside that magical purse of yours," You looked at him with a hint of sadness in your eyes, knowing that maybe it was time for you to go your separate ways as you walked together, but at least for today, he didn't want you to just disappear, so he grabbed your hand and you walked back together, you found a bathroom in the way where you could change, and he waited patiently outside for you, telling your how sorry he was over and over, but you truly didn't care. 

You had the time of your life, partying with him and the monkeys, Lilly Allen had turned the party into a costume party, you saw Alex changing into a green dinosaur onesie, drinking beer, and dancing with you dressed like an angel, with sparkles in your eyes and a white dress that Amy lend you in exchange for your golden dress, you kept dancing and drinking until the sunrise with him, smoking some weed with him and Matt in the back, Alex played with you, he stuck with you throughout the whole night, pinching your bum, kissing the back of your head, but mostly he spent most of the time craving the taste of your mouth, kissing you with angst and possession since there was another guy, James from Klaxons that wanted to kiss you, he wouldn't leave you alone, both of you felt like you were flying like planes running and rolling around the grass watching the sun peek behind the giant pyramid. And then, your memory went blank, you had woken up from the floor with your knees and elbow bleeding, blood on your wings and broken fishnets, Chelsea lying on your thighs and Gracie hugging you close, you glanced at your clock, it was 8 in the morning, you woke Chelsea and Gracie up, taking them with Jamie and Katie who kindly gave them water and some food, then you had another worry, it was Alex.

"Have you guys seen Alex anywhere?" You slurred to Jamie and Katie, then Jamie grabbed Katie's hand and went outside with you, you heard the sound of Alex's grunts, and you followed them until you saw him wrestling James in the mud with his dinosaur onesie, his eyes just as red as yours, "Alex!" James was in the mud and Alex quickly went running back to you zigzagging, you couldn't help but laugh so hard it knocked you to the floor, your body and head still felt light, he laid down next to you staining your costume with mud, "What the fuck, Alex?"

"That fucker wanted to kiss you!" Alex's voice sounded a pinch higher when he was drunk, he was annoyed that you kept laughing, "What? He needed to know that you're mine, he can't kiss you"

"So brave!" You teased him, cuddling close to him, "How much grass did we smoke? Jesus... I'm so tired" You turn your head to look at him but he is already staring at your lips, stealing a kiss from you.

"We could go back to the trailer," He pinched your chin, his thumb caressing it gently, and a smile crawled to your lips.

"You're not that tired, are you?" He said no with his head, his hands sneaking to pinch your bum, making you giggle like a child and blush hard.

"I'll do everything, you just have to lay down... and look pretty just like now" He kissed your temple, piggybacking you back to the trailer, closing the door shut.

A/N 

Happy Alex Turner day everyone! 💘

[buckyscrystalqueen]

More the Merrier: Part 1

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter

Warnings: Swearing, Polyamory

Word Count: 3,296

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey!” Your identical twin sister, Ashley, called out as she walked out of her barn, with her head tilted to the side and a confused look on her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Greece with Natasha?”

“That was last week.” You called out as you yanked your suitcase from the back of the cab you had had to hire when your ride didn’t show up. “It’s the tenth, dipshit.”

“No it’s not.” She said as she put her hands down at her sides for a second.

“Yea it is.” You hissed as you stopped in front of her and shook your head. “What are you even doing with yourself?”

“I’m pregnant, shut up.” She said as she stepped forward to kiss your cheek before walking around you to head toward the large round ring.

“No, you’re just forgetful.” You pointed out as you turned with her and stepped up onto the round wood beams that created the five foot walls to look at a gorgeous appaloosa mustang that was freaking out in the pen. “Who’s this guy?”

“Bought him at an auction.” She said as she crossed her arms over the top rail with a smile. “I’m gunna gentle him.”

“You’re fucking high!” You barked through a laugh as you looked over at her. “Not while you’re pregnant.” With another glance back at the horse, you sighed and reached out to take training whip out of her hand.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to.”

“Yea, I know I don’t.” You said as you grabbed the strap the horse was dragging and wrapped it around your hand. “Hup! This way. Get!” You shouted loudly as you swished the whip in front of where the horse was going to be to get him to turn around. “Was he wild? That why he’s on a lead?”

“He came to Briar Ridge like that. I just moved the trailer away from the ring when you pulled up.”

“You mean, when you were supposed to be picking me up from the airport?” You teased with a glance over at her before switching the horse’s direction again.

“So how’s the wife?” She asked, purposely changing the subject while scratching her nose with her middle finger.

“Amazing as ever and somehow, she even managed to tan this trip. Oh, you should have seen the yacht Bucky rented us for our anniversary. Absolutely stunning.” Your sister smiled, rested her chin on her arms and let you rant to your heart’s content, since she was the only one in your family who was willing to hear anything about your unconventional lifestyle.

“I just feel like we’re all just to busy to get a dog, you know?” You finished up at the end of almost an hour of trying to break this horse. You turned your back on him and shrugged at your sister. “The boys really want one though, so Nat and I will probably give in.” You were expecting the horse to walk up behind you to join up, but instead, he took a running start and easily cleared the round pen fence. You didn’t see it coming, so you had no chance to drop the rope before it tightened around your wrist and forearm. You were yanked sideways nearly out of your boots, and hit the fence with such force, you were launched over the top of it on to the unforgiving gravel driveway. You scrambled to get your wrist free and swiveled around to get up on your feet like you were water skiing to save your sides from getting even more road rash than they now had.

“Let go of the rope!” Someone shouted beside you.

“I can’t! It’s wrapped!” The man called out to his horse and a couple moments later, you felt him grab you around the waist and lift you off the ground. You landed awkwardly in front of him and he pulled the horse to a stop so he could quickly unwrap it from your wrist. Your body started to shake violently as he passed the rope to someone else and adjusted you on his saddle to bring you back up toward the house.

“Is she OK?!” Ashley shouted as your savior rode up to her side. You tried to look down at her and shook your head as your vision started to tunnel.

“Natasha is going to kill you.”

——

“Natasha, I am fine.” You giggled in Russian, the language you only learned because she slipped into it when she was upset or angry and you needed to learn or get left behind, as you looked at the brace on your wrist as if you were showing her. “I got lucky it was just a sprain…”

“You were dragged by a horse!” She screeched over you. “You could have been killed… no, James, she could have been killed.”

“I could not have been killed, Nat.” You and her husband said at the same time in a vain, because Natasha absolutely ruled the house.

“Natasha, I am fine.” You repeated again as you ran your braced hand through your hair. “I swear it. It looks way worse than it actually is, baby. And if it wasn’t, I would tell you, you know that. So please, stop worrying and enjoy your time in Spain.”

“You swear you’d tell me if you weren’t?”

“I swear it.” You promised as a dark mass caught your eye. You looked over at the man that was looking over to see who was outside, sitting in the dark on the phone at three in the morning. You gave him small, apologetic wave and started to stand to move away from the barn, but he waved you off and stepped back inside. “Sweetheart, please, please go enjoy your day in Madrid. You can see all the damage when we meet at home in a week. Bucky, can you please distract her?”

“Already on it.” He called out a second before she asked ‘Why are you naked… oh.’

“Love you, baby.” You chuckled before hanging up the phone and looking back over at the barn. “You can come out of the shadows now.” You smirked as the shadow you assumed was the man’s head moved forward and confirmed your suspicion.

“Ma’am, I apologize…”

“Don’t worry about it.” You laughed as you pat the spot beside you on the bench outside the office door. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“I don’t sleep much as is.” He said as he sat down with a shrug. You nodded your head and put your phone down beside you.

“Thank you. For saving me this morning… sorry, I never caught your name…”

“Henry. And it was no trouble at all. Though it was something new to see someone try to ski behind a horse.”

“Oh, I am something special, that’s for sure.” You laughed as you leaned back against the barn to look up at the stars. “Gotta make an entrance.”

“If I may be so bold… what language was that?”

“Oh, Russian. I’m sloppy with it, but it’s my wife’s first language so her husband and I have learned it over the years to keep up with her when she gets angry.” Your smirk grew but you kept looking up at the sky as he looked over at you quizzically.

“Wait, I’m sorry. You said your wife… and her husband?”

“You haven’t met my parents or my sisters yet, have you?” You asked as you finally looked over at him with a smile.

“Only been here a few weeks, ma’am.” With a nod of your head, you glanced up at the main house with a sigh before looking back at him with a shrug.

“I am bisexual. Which my family doesn’t really care about. But six years ago, I met and fell in love with a woman, who happens to be married to a man. They had been married about two years at that point and were already in a polyamorous relationship. So basically we have me, my wife, Natasha, her husband, my partner Bucky, and their partner, Steve in this strange love square of intimacy.”

“OK, I think I am on the same page.”

“Yea, well my parents are not.” You sighed. “My parents are disgusted with the whole idea of polygamy and can’t understand how the hell I could marry someone that cheats on me with not one but two men that I occasionally cheat on her with as well. To them, my marriage, my relationships with my significant others, and my whole living situation in general is a disgusting farce. They tried to write me out of their will and my inheritance, which thankfully for me they couldn’t do the latter. But they turned my brother and sisters against me. Everyone but Ash. Though, she is my identical twin so we have a deeper connection than most.”

“Wow.” He breathed as he searched your eyes. He paused for a moment before a small smile stretched across his cheeks. “Sorry, I have so many questions.”

“I’m here all week.” You laughed as you searched his almost completely blue eyes. “And I love talking about them to anyone willing to listen.”

——

“Good morning favorite sister.” You said, cheerfully as you skipped into her kitchen. “Where’s my favorite brother-in-law?”

“Left for work twenty minutes ago. What’s got you so happy, weirdo?” She asked as you draped your backpack on your chair and headed over to get a cup of coffee.

“Can’t I just be happy to see my sister, hmm?”

“Ha! I don’t believe that for a second.” She laughed as she watched you set your coffee on the table and head for the fridge. “Tom made breakfast you know.”

“I know. I’m just throwing together a trail lunch. Haven’t been riding in forever.” She looked at your back with her eyebrows raised at your current choice of wardrobe.

“So you’re gunna go for a horse back ride in a bikini top and sleep shorts?” Ashley asked, slightly hesitantly as she turned in her chair to watch you throw some scrambled eggs and bacon in a piece of toast.

“Tried putting on jeans and a t-shirt but it hurt like shit so bathing suit it is. Besides, you have that gorgeous lake on your property that I bet is just begging to be swam in.” You took a big bite of your sandwich and hummed in approval before toasting the air with it. “Good food. Don’t worry about cooking, I’m taking us all out tonight. It’s been too long. I’ll be back.” With a kiss on her cheeks, you grabbed your backpack and coffee mug and headed out the front door, only for her to jump to her feet and follow after you as fast as she could.

“(Y/N), you should wait for Tom to take you, we both know you don’t know the trails here very well no matter how much you think do.”

“The lake is like a straight shot through the middle of your property.” You laughed before taking a sip of coffee. “Besides, I have a fancy compass app on my phone now so I can’t possibly get lost.”

“Sissy, I really don’t think this is a good idea. You have a sprained wrist already and your whole side is covered in road rash. Please…”

“Ms. Hiddleston?” You and your sister both stopped to look at Henry and a smile spread across your face. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was about to take Arrow out for his daily ride myself. I could tack up Blaze as well and make sure Ms. (Y/L/N) doesn’t get lost for you.”

“There we go, perfect.” You said as you gestured to him while looking at your sister. “Personal tour guide. That work?”

“Fine.” She sighed in defeat. “I have a bunch of stuff I need to do in the office so I won’t be much fun until this afternoon anyways.”

“So then it’s settled.” You said as you looked over at Henry with a smile. “Grab a bathing suit and I’ll start with the blankets.” Your sister sighed in defeat and walked back up to the house to finish getting ready for her day, while you and Henry got ready for your ride. When you finally got settled on the back of the brown stallion, you glanced over at your guide with a smirk. “You can ask your questions, Henry. I don’t bite unless you ask me to.”

“How does it work?” He spit out rather quickly. “Like… sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry.” You giggled as you pulled at the leg of your shorts so they sat more comfortably. “It’s not complicated, but it is a little bit complicated. But there is also no real specific way about it.”

“Because that’s not confusing.” He chuckled as he looked over at your adorable smile.

“OK, so I’ll try to keep it simple. So in our poly relationship, the way we do it is by rotation that gets disrupted on a regular basis. One night it’s same sex night, the next it’s the three of them and I’m alone, then it’s Nat, Bucky and I and Steve’s alone. Then Nat and Bucky take their night and Steve and I are alone because we don’t have any romantic chemistry and that’s OK. After that it’s Bucky and I and Steve and Nat, then all four, then there’s a general “give me space, damn it” night and we start over again.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s not that bad.” You laughed as you wrested your braced wrist on the saddle horn. “And like I said, we really don’t stick to that schedule at all. The boys work a lot, and Natasha is an heiress like me and loves to travel as much as I do, so we do spend a lot more time together than we do with the boys. But that’s also because Steve and Bucky are high school sweethearts even though Steve stayed in the closet until after Natasha and Bucky got married… that one’s complicated and also not my story to really tell. So if you stick around long enough, you’ll hear about it.”

“So… well… OK, I’ll just come out with it. I’m sort of bi. I prefer women but I have found a man or two attractive in my time and there was a drunken night in University with a mate. But I prefer women…”

“And that’s OK…”

“So what happens if I give in to the feeling of liking you as much as I do just from our conversation this morning?” He said over you, making your smile grow. “What happens…”

“Then we start dating, sweetheart.” You giggled as you stopped beside the lake. “Simple as that. And we all as a family, can all figure out boundaries where we need to. We’ve made the same accommodation to Steve and the woman he’s currently seeing, who chooses to remain outside the family completely. And we can make that same accommodation here, if that’s what you’re interested in. But I will say, being part of our family is something quite spectacular.”

“But end of the day, I will always have to share you in some capacity.” He said as he looked at the back of Blaze’s neck.

“Yea sweetheart. You will.” He nodded his head slowly as he thought about what you said, and looked over at you as you got off Arrow to enjoy your day.

“Can we just see where this goes for now?” He asked as he jumped down beside you and took the reins from your hand. “See if we actually like each other first before we bring your family into it?” You smiled up at him and nodded your head.

“That’s the best part, ain’t it?”

——

You were sound asleep in Henry’s barn loft bed, naked and freshly fucked, when your phone started ringing on his bedside table. With a groan from each of you, he grabbed the device for you, handed it to you, and then wrapped his arms and legs around you like an octopus. You huffed as you answered the FaceTime call. 

“You made it home?” You asked groggily as you squinted at the screen. Bucky paused as he looked at you and then the hairy chest that was your background.

“What are you doing, ma’am?” He teased, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Oh, bite me.” You giggled as you looked at yourself in the little box that showed your camera’s angle.

“Looks like I’m too late on that one, sweetheart.” Natasha laughed as she turned Bucky’s hand so she could see as well, letting you see more of her bedroom at home. “Is that a hickey?”

“Grow up.” You grumbled as Henry slid his hand up your chest to cover the love bites he left on your neck. Your partners both ‘awed’ at you, which made you roll your eyes before Natasha spoke again.

“Yes, solnyshka. We made it home. Want us to let you go?”

“You’re fine.” Henry grumbled in your ear before he buried his face in your hair. You smiled, dreamily and barely shook your head.

“It’s alright. How was the flight?”

“Not as eventful as your night.” Bucky teased, causing Natasha to lightly backhand his chest with a small scowl.

“Be nice.” She scolded before taking the phone out of his hand, but leaving it to where he can still see. “I take it this is Henry?”

“This is Henry.” You confirmed as you held the phone up a bit so she could see his profile as he hid from the light of your phone screen in your hair. “Say hi.” You watched his eye crack open and he looked up at the phone screen as he mumbled “hey” before hiding again.

“He’s cute.” Nat mouthed as you put the phone back in front of you on the pillow while Henry’s thumb started absentmindedly tracing the column of your neck. You nodded in agreement.

“So we were talking about it.” You informed your partners as your free hand reached down to brush across the one Henry had slung around your waist. “Henry’s going to come back with me for a few days to meet everyone and see if we all vibe.”

“That’s perfect.” Nat said with a genuine smile. “Just remember, we have that charity auction the night after you get back so make sure he has a suit packed. I already talked to Cheyenne about getting us gowns.”

“Shit, I completely forgot about that.” Bucky said as he laid down in bed more to get comfortable to sleep.

“It’s on the calendar.” You and Nat reminded him simultaneously. 

“Where’s Steve tonight?”

“With Sharon.” Nat said as a dark look flashed in her eyes. Your brow furrowed as she muttered something in Russian you couldn’t understand before the look was just gone. “He’ll be home tomorrow night though so…”

“Gotcha.” You confirmed with a giant yawn. “Alright, I’m going back to bed. Love you both.”

“Love you, too, solnyshka.” Nat cooed before she blew you a kiss. You sent an air kiss right back just before she hung up the phone. With a sigh, you dropped the device on your pillow and snuggled back into Henry.

“Whats the word she called you?” He asked as he tightened his hold on you and moved his hand from your throat to around your upper chest.

“It translates to sunshine.” You breathed as you laced your fingers with his on your shoulder.

“Got it.” With a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade, he pulled you impossibly closer and within moments was back asleep. A smile stretched across your face as you closed your eyes, and within a minute, you were back asleep as well.

Part 2

[boreal-sea]

Society needs to do a few things to help unhoused people. Firstly, and obviously, those who want to be housed in houses and apartments should be able to get them. Cities should create and enforce rent reduction policies on landlords who let apartments and homes sit vacant - and if they sit vacant too long, the city takes control of the property. Most Airbnbs have to go. Apartments and homes that are foreclosed or owned by banks need to be given to the city to be used for low income or free housing. House selling agencies like Zillow etc who have unsold properties just sitting around should be forced to lower the prices of those homes until someone buys them, and if they are still vacant after a certain amount of time, they too go to the city to manage. You wanna get angry? Google the number of foreclosed homes in your town or city, then Google the estimated homeless population in your area.

But.

I also think society needs to get easier for people who don't have and don't want a permanent house or apartment?? Cities and towns need to ease restrictions on "tiny homes", trailers, campers, mobile homes, live-in-vans, and things like that. They need to provide safe, dry areas for people who want to camp. They need to provide clean places to bathe and shower and clean your clothes. They need to provide water and electricity and plumbing to these places. Because of how job applications work right now, those camps need to have a real address that the people living there can use.

Oh yeah - and of course, hostile architecture needs to be banned WHILE mandating that public spaces must have a minimum mandatory amount of seating.

[gumballavocadoharry]

Lost along the way; Jack Chambers:

*Mentions of very offensive language, domestic abuse,  violent child abuse, aggression, violence, sex, drunkenness, slang terms, curse words, vulgar language, death, grief, emotional abuse, outdated views of women, men and children and cheating. *

A scorching heatwave brazed through the pounding streets of New York. The telephone wires echoed shadows over the heated tar pavement on the roads. Buffalo carried only the mist of the wave, but it still lingered over the Chamber household in mid-August. The sizzles of the heat, radiated through Jack's bedroom; a background noise as he flipped through the latest newspaper issue.

Buffalo was a set neighborhood sat serenely in the crowded busy pond of New York. The houses were only inches apart from one another- which to Jack- was better than the overcrowded insecure Brooklyn apartments.

Fresh faced young Jack- a high school graduate with honors- was only twenty years old, yet had the ambition and clarity that would take others a lifetime or several years to acquire. Body solid against the knobby clotted mattress, scanning intently through the Daily Colum. Jack wasn't shabby- a small rent control to a rickety Virginia trailer park would due. Just not here. Not in this house, with his father…..or mother.

Vivid memories of scattered and thrown around plates and glass cups, forks and knives. Beer bottles, all slammed against the walls with harsh crashes and shatters. Despite it being regular, Jack never accustomed himself to its normalcy. Because it wasn't. It wasn't normal to have run through the home with Vaseline covered soaked in ice to numb any whips or switches being whapped against them. Nor, was it normal to spend the cagy night soaking up the misguided blood from the belt welts with a sterile sheet that Jack had pressed over his sheets to not dampen them with his vertebral sores.

Jack would later learn his tip toeing habits came from his childhood. Tip toeing down the stairs for a glass of water, tip toeing up the stairs back to his bed. Tip toeing across his bedroom floor to study for his upcoming middle school tests. One creak was dulling. One creak could send David from his room out to the steps and into a barrage of curses words and threats hulling themselves at Jack, then being yanked up by the collar and thrown into his bedroom.

A glass had broken from this once and Jack stepped on a cracked piece. A bloody spot trail led back to Jack's room and wasn't cleaned until that following Sunday. Looking at the trail made Jack numb. He didn't understand why, but it did.

Last night- the night Jack made up his mind. Get busy living he decided. It had meaning. Last night was when David had grabbed Jack by his collar and threatened him. Throngs of: Pussy, Bastard, Dickhead- thrown at him with ease as if David was talking to a criminal. He would talk to them and about them like that. One of the most well respected detectives of the Buffalo precinct- hailed as a hero for stopping those two robbers who shot the elderly owner of the drug mart only a few miles from the neighborhood. Jack had heard about this at school, rooting Lawrence Jackson, to spill the latest of what had happened.

Jack liked and despised Lawrence. He was friendly, happy, calm, charming…..he had a good father. His father, Marc, was David's partner. Marc was the laid back and easy going type to get the antiheroes off with parole or a lighter sentence. "They're just kids," He would say. "I remember when I used to feel the same way. Parents should really show their children, just how much they love them. Don't ever leave it to fate or a read between the lines kind of guess for them. They deserve it."

Lawrence would brag about how Marc would take him to the ball game or buy him ice cream on hot summer Saturdays after school. Jack even saw the way Marc wrapped his arms around Lawrence after scoring the touchdown for the season. "Oh Renny! You were amazing! My number one guy!" Jack didn't even realize the smile peering across his face watching the father and son from the crowd. Jack could sometimes imagine David and him like that- but it never lasted.

"Jack, get your ass in the car or I leave without you!" Jack grabbing his baseball glove and bat, would have only a few seconds before David's car sped off. Marc was nice enough to give rides to Jack. But a twisted shame would dawdle through Jack. Maybe because Marc knew how rough David could be. And Jack knew he knew. "You dumb fuck- screwing up the whole fucking game for everyone!" David's eyes narrowed, pushing his face very close to Jacks. "You screw up again, and there won't be another season for you, got it!" Jack swallowed hard. He knew what it meant. Another hospital trip for a broken arm plus a bruised cheekbone. It would ruin his season.

A knock sounded against the door. "Jack?" Lucy entered upon Jack's acceptance. "Hi sweetie." Jack folded the newspaper by his side, lending his full attention to his mother. He watched her scrap over his blotchy paint stained floors, that had years' worth of stains longer than he'd been around. Taking a seat on the bed, Jack was forced to meet her silver rain eyes.  "How is everything?" Jack shook his head. "What do you mean?" Lucy bit the side of her lip. "You know… after last night with your father and everything…."

Jack stared back down at his bed spread. "You know that's never an easy question to answer…" Lucy kept her stare on Jack. Jack recognized that stare: the same one she would always give to him as a small child. A thick arch threatened to spread across his eyebrows. She could never see him as the man he was, just this small little child that needed her hand with everything. Lucy sighed. "I know your father can get a bit…rough at times," She paused. "It's just….when you have a family one day, you'll see that it's not easy providing for them and it can make you tired and irritable-"

"It's not an excuse." Jack shot back. "You don't lose your self-control like…." He thought. "Like an animal in the wild-"

"Watch your tongue!" Jack shook his head. He wouldn't take it back and Lucy knew he couldn't. A sigh escaped from Jack- his mother's eyes still following him. "Was there… anything else about Dad?" With a small hiss of ire, Jack almost demanded the answer. Lucy looked down. "He loves you." Jack scoffed. "Sorry…but…" waving his hand, Jack sat back with a smirk on his face. "I'm serious."

Jack sat back up. "Mom…. It is what it is. I've accepted that one way or another- I learned to accept it one way or another." Jack shook his head. "Dad….. Is Dad." Lucy touched Jack's knee. "I love you very much."

I'm sure Jack thought. He dropped the subject. Lucy's eyes met the newspaper. Jack stiffened. Grabbing the newspaper, Jack flipped to the crime catalogue. "A recent carjacking happened by Manhattan." Lucy scanned the paper before up righting herself and nodding. "It's a troubled world, that's for sure." Biting her lip, she turned to Jack again. "Dinner's ready." Sitting up, Lucy walked to the door, leaving Jack's room. Jack continued to stare at the closed door- darting between the burnt reddish brown door and the matching door jam.

Shaking his head, Jack thought about Lucy. Weak. No other word to describe it. Weak. Jack spent years, silently pleading and begging his mother to grab a suitcase- anything and just…..go. Leave everything and start fresh with just the two of them. No more 'bitch' or 'cunt' would be lunged at her for burning dinner or knocking over one of David's beer bottles. David didn't touch Lucy the way he would with Jack. He could snatch her by her shoulders and shove her against stairwell, or push her towards the kitchen after landing a firm pat to her behind.

Jack would never forget the way his father rebuked Lucy for interrupting his TV show. "You dumb broad!" He yelled. The first time Jack would ever see his father whip his hand to his mother's cheek. Blood trickled down the side of her face as she ran into the kitchen and hid herself away until dinner time. Jack hadn't even sat his backpack down before he ran upstairs and used the rope of robe to tie the door knob to the leg of his desk. The next morning, a foundation covered bruise sat boldly on the side of Lucy's face as did the artificial smile she had. At least….Jack hoped it was fake. Nothing was ever mentioned about it ever. Even if Jack thought about asking his mother if she was okay, something would snag him- grab and shake him to keep silent… like maybe she deserved it for being with him, or maybe because she would tell David and lead him to punch Jack in his face. Either way….nothing was said. No one ever said anything. And that was the last Jack would ever see of that.

Jack came down to dinner. David was sat at the center of the family table with a slight scowl across his face and his hands neatly and firmly pressed together in a noose. Jack took a seat in the middle- David always sat to his right, Lucy sat to his left. Jack sat in the middle- seen, not heard. Just the way David liked it. "You've got too much mouth." He would say. "Shut it!" Jack had only tried to tell him that he was going the wrong way during the dense highway traffic. "Shut up Jack! I told you I don't want to hear it!" So he didn't. But it took him two hours to turn around. Jack was sure he would get hit, but he didn't to his surprise. Instead, David kept silent. As long as no one spoke, he would let it go.

Lucy set the rolls in the middle of the table like a centerpiece. A steamy filled trout sat in front of Jack with carrots, peas. "Delicious!" Jack said. "Thanks Mom." Lucy smiled before taking a seat at the table. "Needs more salt." David said, but still scoffed down the trout without so much as a 'thank you' or even eye contact for that matter.

Dinner was silent. The sounds of forks grinding against the plates and the munching of the food were the only sounds expressed. "Jack… you doing anything with that college education?" Jack furrowed his eyebrows. David let out a gruffy laugh. "That's right, you don't have one." Lucy glared at David. "Yet…" Jack said.

"What?" David eyed Jack over bent over posture. Jack shrugged. "Yeah, I mean- it's not over yet." David narrowed his eyes. "You mean, you're actually gonna do something with your life? Not slaving way at this repair shop forever?" He started chuckling. "I guess my son ain't a loser after all." Jack kept his head down. He didn't say a word. Didn't need to. After dinner, he simply cleared away the plates and set them in the sink.

"You know that's women's work." He turned to Lucy. "Get up and do it." Lucy, like a puppy on demand, settled herself from the chair and gently took the plates from Jack's hand. She gave a small tattered smile and started on filling the sink with hot water and suds. Jack stared at Lucy for a bit before turning upstairs. Locking himself in his room, Jack researched harder on places to live. Crumbling the paper and tossing it, Jack sulked, not finding anything available. Laying back in his bed, Jack wouldn't give up. He couldn't. He decided that tomorrow morning would be a new day. A fresh day for looking. The scouring heatwave would still pour, but to Jack, he would wipe the beads of sweat from his head and continue house hunting.

Monday came, and the heatwave was still lingering through the city. Jack was up- overdue for the morning, settling into his navy blue jumpsuit with 'Bernie's Auto Repair' tattooed on the back. A quick sandwich, apple slices and a lemonade canister later, Jack left a gallant letter for his parents on the fridge.

'Went to work, see you later when I get home'

Love, Jack

Scuffling around the corner to meet the eight o'clock bus, Jack paid the fee before sitting three rows behind the driver- eventually getting up and handing his seat over to an elderly man with groceries. "Thanks sport!" Jack fluttered his dimples to the man before gripping the overhead hook of the bus tightly and concentrating carefully on what street Milton Ave was.

Pulling the string, Jack thanked the driver before hopping off the bus and strolled into the repair shop- clocking in his ticket for the day.

Jack gained Bernie ten new customers within a week. Business boomed more than over the last year when Bernie decided an oil and shine would be only for the price of one. "Sometimes you gotta spend money to make money." He said. Jack nodded along, disappearing back under the firetruck red Buick. He didn't know why, but Jack had this overachieving knack for fixing cars. "It's a gift, boy," Bernie said. "One day, when you get a car of your own- specially in New York- you'll be some driver. That car will be lucky." Jack smiled. Wiping the oil from his hands on the little white handkerchief sticking from his leg pocket. "Thanks Bernie." The older man smiled. "No problem- you know, I appreciate ya so much, lemme know if there's anything I can do for ya."

Jack modestly smiled, before frowning a little. "Say, Bernie…. Are there any newly leased apartments or houses around here?" Bernie arched an eyebrow. "Moving out of your folks place?" Jack kept his smile thin and subtle. "That father of yours is a damn sure hero. He really is, you tell him that, ya hear?"

Jack nodded still keeping his rigid smile. "Well, uh…. I hear this place on Caldara…. It was leased a few days ago because a couple decided that there Palm Springs was better suited for them- took route 66. You interested?"

"Oh yes! I've been looking for over a month now… as long as it's not too expensive." Bernie clicked his tongue. "Well, now- in this city- the cheaper you go, you don't know what you might get."

Jack knew this very well. One apartment that was a few hundred a month had a mouse nest under the kitchen sink. Booted from the apartment before the owner even showed up for the appointment. "I've decided- I'm not interested. Thanks, bye, bye." Jack hung the phone up and decided the owner would need to check for themselves why the place wasn't selling.

But this seemed like a sure thing. Jack knew those Caldara apartments. They lived in Brooklyn- the best side that you can get from it- and they were hunched only a little corner away from King's College. The inside was small but habitable little place with a small kitchen, little living room, a bedroom and bath. All he needed. After his shift, Jack didn't hesitate to find the empty apartment. Once inside, Jack checked under the sink, the bedroom, bathroom and any corner where a mouse would nest or spiderwebs would hang with their families or where any furnaces kept eggs of whatever inside. Nothing. "I'll take it!"

"For three hundred every month?" Jack nodded. "Fits my budget perfectly." Shaking hands with Mr. Veldor, Jack signed the lease and was given the keys to his new apartment officially. The shimmer of the golden key felt good in the palm of Jack's hand. It has the ring of departing clanging through every fiber of his brain. Jack made a solid two hundred with Bernie, counting it up every other week. Combining that with a night job for classes would seal a solid hopeful five hundred dollars into his bank every week. Jack needed to be cautious though.

If David saw the flicker flash of the keys, he would bill on more things for Jack to pay for. Once Jack had reached eighteen, David didn't hesitate. "Your grown now, you can pay your own damn way like everyone else in this country." David has dusted the grass sweeps off his tank top from mowing the lawn. Jack glanced between his mother skirting from the kitchen opening and the dining room. A glower escaped from Jack's eyes as he didn't expect Lucy to pipe up for anything.

"Jack," She tried to stop him on the way up the stairs. He turned back. "I'll figure it out…. I always have." Then he disappeared into his bedroom- snagging the job with Bernie's only a week after.

Jack had made it into the house. The keys were tucked carefully inside his uniform and then hid away. David wasn't home yet, giving Jack the chance to rearrange his closet space. He grabbed trash bags from the kitchen and tucked every item of clothing he owned inside them and hid one bag in his closet and the other under the bed- rolling them up into this ball shape. Watches and rings- delicate accessories were put into trash bags- rolled and knotted into this little bag and the carefully sealed inside the closet bag before being knotted tightly.

"When will Dad be home?" Jack asked, seeing his mother come into the house with grocery bags tucked in both her arms. Jack scurried over and took some of the bags from her arms and placed them onto the counter. "He said 'around 8'. It's a case him and Marc are working on that's very detailed." Jack nodded. "Why, did you need to ask him something?" Jack shook his head. "No, I just… wanted to make sure…." Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Jack…" Jack shook his head with a smile. Looking into his mother's eyes again- He examined them for scepticalness. "Well…. I always keep a watch out for him, yeah."

Lucy took a bag of carrots from the bag. "I-I know. I guess…. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Jack gawked- deep into Lucy's eyes this time. Enough for her to see the little lines of his green irises and the shrill potency of vigor he held in them. Lucy couldn't stop staring. There was something in Jack's eyes she couldn't ignore. Something inside of them that was so jarring, it scared her.

"I'm fine," Jack said, voice a little quiet. "I'll be fine." Giving a quick kiss to his mother's cheek, Jack left the kitchen leaving Lucy alone with her thoughts. But even she busied herself in sorting the groceries out for dinner- to bury down what she had possibly known about Jack, but was too afraid to admit to herself. Her sight went to the kitchen opening, then back to the counter. Taking a deep breath, Lucy ignored the echoes in her brain and put the milk into the fridge.

Jack thought hard. He needed to be swift and smart about this. No time for purchasing couches or coffee tables- Jack would take what he already had. His bed, clothes, desk- his room would be stripped of everything that would ever remind his parents of him. He would be gone by Friday. David wouldn't see him, Lucy wouldn't see him….. No one would see Jack again. No more 'greatest detective hero' about David. No more meek and mousey housewife and mother- so saturated in her character, that life washes around her- reality passing her by. Jack sat on his bed. Still realizing his uniform was still attached, Jack stripped it off, stuffing it over the closet rack. The empty closet was useful for something. Sudden flashes of pots, pans, oven mitts and curtains and shades struck Jack's mind. Checking the clock that read 6:02, Jack grabbed his house keys.

"I'm going to go meet some friends at the diner!" He yelled, coming down the stairs. Lucy peered through the kitchen doorway. "Where are you going?"

Jack turned to Lucy. "I remembered I promised to meet some friends at the diner later tonight-  I was tired from work, I forgot. I gotta go now." Lucy watched Jack shuffle out the door. Jack rushed through the front door and caught the passing taxi to take him down to the market.

Miller's Place, was always cheap. A few cents for kitchenware, a few cents for food, a few dollars for furniture. Jack would remember that. He would remember Miller's. With his basket already full, Jack was ready to check out. But something nicked his mind. Bags with 'Miller's Place' on the front would be a dead giveaway in case David decided to ransack Jack's bedroom again. But a crate. A sturdy one where all his kitchen supplies and household needs would be well hidden- out of sight from David… out of sight from Lucy. He didn't trust her. Something that was boiling down in the deep pits of his gut had now boiled over in a flash thought at the checkout line, as Jack settled the thick and wide hickory crate into the basket after it was rang up.

His mother. How own mother could never stick up for him when he needed her the most. Even with all the mustered down sorrow of seeing her so appallingly treated, something in Jack- a spark inside him felt this drench of relief to finally be rid of her was well. She stood by on the sidelines watching Jack get helplessly tortured by the man she married. Would she know just how Jack would cry and scream for her when David would beat him because he failed a test, or force him to take stoney cold showers because he didn't like baths at the time. Lucy would deflate this with inept attempts of reading Jack bedtime stories, or making him his favorite cookies. But it wasn't enough. Jack needed more. He wanted more. He wanted better. That was it- Lucy didn't want to give him better. She didn't take him into her arms and run through the teeming swarm of city-goers in the dusk of night, and find shelter- hidden away where David wouldn't hurt them again.

"He doesn't mean it Jack." Or, "He's just tired. But he wants what's best for you and to do well. So, listen to him and don't doubt him." Would ring inside his head like bells through every night, while he tossed and turned in his sheets, or while he would bandage and tend to every blister or bruise or bloody welt from David's 'best wishes'. Jack was careful not to slam his new items into the cart- his anger filled memories were starting to get the best of him. "Have a nice day!" The lady clerk cheered as Jack waved a polite goodbye before leaving the store.

The clock was now 8:30, making Jack rush home- snagging the first bus to back to Buffalo.

"There he is!" Lucy's sweet voice piped from the kitchen. A delicious savory smell of ham was being delivered from the kitchen to the dining room. Mashed potatoes, butter roasted carrots, biscuits, corn pudding and green beans were sidelined by the centerpiece ham in the middle. David, sat in the center as usual with a serious frown over his face. Jack bit his lip before coercing a smile. Carrying his bags towards the stairs. "I'll be right down." Jack carried the bags and shoved them into the crate as best as he could. Closing the closet door, Jack was met with the sound of footsteps stepping closer and closer toward his door. Jack- quick on his feet- swung the door open and was met face to face with Lucy. Somehow… to his slight relief. "Dinner's ready." She scanned the bedroom over Jack's shoulders, trying hard to peer around the gaps of his frame that stood in the middle. "Alright. I'm coming right now."

Jack waited for Lucy to follow him down the stairs- she did, chugging behind him with question curiosity. Jack took a seat at the table. Taking in the aromatic whiff of dinner, Jack grabbed his fork and knife and waited for his turn. A ping pong toss of whether to share the news with his parents or keep hush until he could safely move everything from the home to his apartment. Jack decided to keep silent. Keeping his daze mostly on his dinner, Jack only looked up occassionally into his mother's eyes. But Lucy was detailed. She was scanning for something- anything to conclude the clambering dyspneic thoughts. She could only catch glimpses of Jack's eyes. Like beads of lint in the light that echoed cotton or dust was nearby. But something in his eyes changed- except she couldn't quite place a finger on it. Did it change suddenly? Was it always there? Had she just not have noticed?

It was bogging down inside her deeply, like a stick in quicksand- snatching it down with every second. Something about Jack's deameanor had changed. They way he walked, the way he spoke- the jarring way he would bore into her eyes with every conversation between them. Glancing between Jack and David- the carried the same eyes, similar jaw lines, the same creases around their nose and under their eyes. The same tight stiffness their jaw would hold everytime something upset them. But David's eyes were different. They were firm, fierce and brash. The jade green would mix in this tonic of arrogance- something Lucy found appealing and rebellious when she was younger. But looking into her son's eyes- the didn't shoulder the same weight. They carried its own.

Jack's eyes were firm when angry, cooing when soft, playful and giddy when happy. He could be happy- he could be soft. He could be a man. A real man. 

He would never be like David. Lucy knew that. 

Raised in the era where marriage was something only Lucy could hope for. A good secure future was in the palms of a man who could give her everything she wanted. Money, housing, the exspensive clothes she could only dream of placing over her body. He could give her the love and attention she desired; the girthy gauzy touch over the nape of back, or the twidling fingers brazing over her warm rosy cheeks. David- tall, dark umber hair and jaded green eyes with golden blades sharpening through them and thick muscles with quivering veins that crawled under the flesh of his arms every time he flexed them even a little. 

His hand craddled Lucy's dainty one in his grasp. The way his arms carried her into their new home- the Buffalo one they shelter in now and for decades to come- gently set her down on the couch like drape slung over the back of the chair for modest decor. Honeymoon days were the best- two weeks of David's masculine proclivity filled the home along with her peach cobler in the way she hoped. Then the first fight. 

David's confident voice suddenly became maybe to abrasive or too rasping. The words would fly from his lips and jab themselves into the laceration of her deepest hollow flesh. But, a bank account and a cozy home could sweep those words under the rug and store back into the urn that was always kept on the shelf, but never touched except for sweeping. The perks of being Mrs. Chambers, was everything to Lucy. She once called this out to her friend, Diane Marlow, who she had managed to make a girl's date with- a casual tea time at the Kettle. 

"He does that sometimes." Diane perked up, sipping up her tea with speed as to speak what had just been spoken to her. "Sometimes...." she looked to the side. "Lucy.... I'm not trying to butt into your marriage but- I think.... maybe that's a bit too far." Lucy crooked the side of her head and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" Diane swallowed. "All I'm saying is... David shouldn't talk to you like that. I know, he has a temper but-"

"Everyone makes mistakes, Diane. David.... is wonderful. He would never hurt me intentionally." "Don't you mean at all?" Lucy huffed. "I suppose Ethan is just perfect, isn't he?" Diane furrowed her eyebrows. "No. He's far from that- but he doesn't call me out of my name everytime he comes home from work tired or hungry, if that's what you mean."

Lucy looked around. "I needed this Diane. Don't you understand? For a woman... the rules are different. This might be the closest I can get into a future."

"Lucy," Diane sighed. "A woman can still dream and want. It's not that she shouldn't have to- it's that if she doesn't want to, then she can decide for herself what type of future she really wants." 

But Diane could understand. She knew how much marriages were watched and scruntinzed closely by the community. A woman could divorce.... and be shunned and looked on as if she were just a failed attempt to what was expected from her. But unlike Lucy, Diane didn't hold herself to such high expectations. She loved Ethan for who he was and what they could both give to each other through love. Lucy would watch they way Ethan pulled out Diane's chair. Or the way he would press butterfly kisses to her blushed cheeks. It scalded Lucy had badly she craved that. But a fire inside her burned heavier. Ethan wasn't the up and coming city dectective to ring in a infallible reputation with the city- nor did he have a house in between the rush of the city. A car was something that wasn't accessible for the couple yet and stung something in Lucy. Seeing the budget made wedding, the careful cost reception and the two layer cake, somehow sent a judgemental snag inside of Lucy that she couldn't rid.

Her wedding- would be perfect. The right crisp white flowers, the perfect four layer cake with the little bride and groom at the tippy top, the perfect dance for the reception afterwards- Lucy could see it all in her head bouncing around like dodge balls. And that's what she did all her life- dodge. Shunning looking too tough for a man to come and allure with her. Dodge stepping outside of the kitchen where her skills would be judged and belittled by her dearing husband, who demanded the best. She felt more readied for it, rather than some disappointing workshop type achievement or doctorate degree that wouldn't suit someone her type. David, the perfect man- muscular and manly man type to fill the role of purpose in her life. Watching her mother, her aunts, her sisters and cousins all court with their fellas, as they strolled down this destined line of marriage, children, cooking, cleaning, sewing- keeping the house together- keeping herself together at all times. It was when Lucy realized outside appearances do matter, and if they didn't, then there would be nothing. Nothing but a hollow shell of herself.

"Kids. Imagine David- a little boy or girl, swinging in the backyard, or running through the kitchen for a snack? It'll be lovely." David didn't exactly deny this fantansy. In fact, he didn't mind children. He just, liked them to be a certain type of child- but wouldn't acutally knock the idea off the table. "Really?" He said, lighting his cigar. Lucy snuggled up next to him. Looking into her eyes, a smile finally spread across David's face. "Alright.... we'll try it."

Jack was born a year later.

Despite the immense pride and sentimentalism that ran through Lucy, it would also be the first time she realized how off track life could go. 

Jack- born a few weeks early, but otherwise healthy- had this raging spirt, even while he lived in a small incubator. This was reassuring to Lucy, as she was told by midwives that premature babies didn't have the best survival rate. But Jack wasn't too early. Born into the hospital's latest technololgy, he thrived in his little glass box. His lungs filled with energy as he would kick and scream when the nurses tried to change his diaper, or how he quickly learned to latch when his hunger got the better of him. "Seems to be perfectly healthy." A delight pecked through both of the new parents. Jack was an easy baby for the most part. But like most wives, Lucy did most of the childrearing to know that. Even though in good health, the occasional worry still slithered through Lucy's mind sometimes of Jack being ill or developing a serious sickness.

But, a perfect little boy nonetheless. But to David, it wasn't until Jack hit one, when Lucy understood that life wasn't perfect again. She could hear Jack's cries and screams from being slapped or whipped for little mistakes. She could feel the tremble in his body when he would get in David's way and cause trouble. But for Lucy, reassurance was enough. It was her role as a mother to doll up the jangling mistakes of the father's temper as misunderstandings or tough love. Looking into those little green eyes- eyes that needed his mommy to swoop in and take control. But all Lucy could find herself doing was rub his chubby cheek and kiss his forehead. "It'll be fine sweetie.... wanna bake with mommy?" 

Sometimes, Jack would stay tied to the apron strings, other times, he would run away to his room and stuff himself in the closet. Her heart twinged. She wanted to scoop her boy into her arms and shield him from the dark world. But the fire- wedged deep inside her kept burning brighter and brighter. A woman had to have it all together at all times. Especially, her household. Jack was made to hush over his father problems. Lucy was made to pretend that everything was all fine, and that David was just tempermental at times. At times, she would dress Jack's wounds with ointment and peroxide- and a dab of her foundation to ease the tender hue of the bruise on his lip or the black eye surrounding his orbital. 

She sent Jack to school that way. And it was harmless. At least, children weren't supposed to be that intelligent- be seen and not heard stood for a reason. So, that's what she would gently remind Jack to do. If no one asks, then keep quiet. If someone does, then pretend like nothing happened. Looking into those innocent eyes- Lucy knew she had underestimated her little boy. He was a smart cookie and tough one. Unlike her, he didn't sit back and let David hit and punch. Sometimes, and eleven year old Jack would swing a bat- trying to intimidate David with his batting skills. Jack could run. Joining little league back in the third grade, Jack knew how to dodge a belt or switch with a sharpness sometimes. He knew where to swing and how hard to hit David- but never did. He was a good boy- a strong boy.

He had guts. He would mouth back- show teeth like a growling dog when provoked. Carrying the same temper his father did, Jack held this certain control in himself that David couldn't. Lucy could see how much Jack knew the ropes of the house. But.... he bite back. David said 'no game' because of a broken vase; Jack would sneak out the door and hit a home run through the yard. David would force a dress on Jack, because if 'Jack wanted to act like a bitch, he would get treated like one.' 

Jack walked to school in his tank top and summer shorts that day in the frigid twenty degree weather. 

If Jack was told to 'shut up', he would be first to pipe a loud shrill scream across the room and run out of David's sight. David burned up Jack's favorite toy truck in the fireplace out of drunkness- no sympathy, just flat callousness. Jack, later than night, smashed all David's beer in the driveway and through the backyard. 

David burned Jack's records; his favorite collectibles from over the years. Stifling the tears, Jack went out later that night- dressed in black on black- and set fire to every desk inside the downtown presinct. Using vodka bottles and lighting them with matches. Jack would forever feel ashamed of this act in the thick billow of teenage hormonal anguish. Something even Roger would have to find out when he as Jack's age. The aftermath was burnt rubble of every last framed honor that was credited to David. "Fireman said, it was a vodka flame. Probably some angry kid over their father going to jail or somthing..." The chief said. No fingers were pointed to Jack- not even David could point. 

As far as everyone knew, Jack was in bed wallowing over his burnt records. But deep inside, Lucy knew. She just didn't tell. And Jack knew she knew.... and he would never say; something....Lucy had to learn to accept.

Jack mellowed as the years went on. But that flame that fanned inside him still burned on and on. It never died. Jack didn't need perfection to be accepted.... he knew what the world was and he accepted that for what it was. 

Lucy could never understand the look in Jack's eyes after winning the seasonal game, or finishing with the honors in high school or scoring the perfect first date with, Ruby Heimen. Had Jack been a more mousey type of child- it would be different. He would've etched himself into his mother's arms- not into the blazing brutal flames of his father's temper, with his own sparks. Quiet and dutiful- like Lucy- obeying every command like how he was supposed to. He was a child, after all. And Lucy was a woman. A dutiful wife and mother- Assimilating into her place like she had wanted. Like she was supposed to.

Don't fan the flames too hard, keep them contained in your little box she thought. Don't let passion burn brighter then your place in the world. Follow the rules- and you'll be safe, like promised. Like her mother promised. So, she promised this to Jack. Never aloud, but subtlety. 

Jack would understand why she couldn't protect him. She hoped he could maybe even agree that she could nurture his childishness with hugs and kisses, fresh baked cookies, and gentle touches and sing song voices. That David was his father, and fathers always knew best. And for that, she knew best. But Jack- had this passion. The simmering flame that Lucy had fought for years, was Jack's fire. It burned brightly in Jack, never dying- even through the thick marsh of jaded sorrow- something in Jack, never died. That spark in his eyes held something that Lucy could only wish. Even her best intentions couldn't credit that from him. Every 'no' was met with a 'I will anyway'. And Lucy could never admit it to herself. She would never admit why it never fizzled. Looking into those eyes-favoring David's- but more. It held something inside them that Lucy could never have. Something she wanted for herself was now sitting in soul of her son.

But Jack was born with it. "I'll be fine Mom." Was something so natural for such an unknown reason, would drip from his lips like they were tattooed on his tongue from birth. Maybe she wanted to believe she would understand- how rooted Jack was in his beliefs. His gut instinct was his compass and that's what he followed. And for that, he would be fine. The outside typical surburan family that consisted of mother, father and son. But on the inside was this push and pull tug-of-war between Jack and David was something that became her everyday; she hated to see it. She couldn't bare for anyone else to see it. But it was there. Lucy didn't know when it started, but it was there. And that's how it always was in the Chamber home.

But years later...she would know. She would see that particular look on the face in every stranger, but Jack's would never change. A certain natural in his eyes that held that flame. An unwafting flame of content... of freedom. He was prisoned by circumstance, but liberated by will.

************************************

A fresh dew early morning; chill and lukewarm without the panging heat of mid morning and afternoon lingering.

Jack was at Bernie's, working on Pontiac- greese stains splashed over his cheeks. "Hey there Jack!" Jack turned for a minute, greeting the old man with a smile. "That lady- you fixed her Ford for- she really loved it. She tipped ya a few cents." A smile fell over Jack. "Thanks Bernie," taking two quarters out of the eighty cents, Jack handed them to Bernie. "You deserve it too." Bernie gave Jack a kind look. He appericated Jack's work ethic a lot, but his kindness the most. "Young fellas," Bernie put it, "don't make much time for an old man like me. You're special Jack, you know that."

Bernie thought for a minute. "You have a car?" Jack looked up and shook his head. "No sir." "Well, you got one now," Bernie ushered Jack with his pointer and led him to the backyard of the shop. "Some man came in and dropped this off. He said it was junk and that it don't work no more." He turned to Jack. "If you can fix it- car's yours." Jack's eyes widened. It was the most gorgeous navy blue Ford he'd ever seen. Sitting amongst the grass and the stacks of tires, Jack could almost picture himself driving it. "Oh thank you so much Bernie! I don't know how to thank you!" Bernie smiled. "You're an excellent worker- I figure that's about enough."

Jack finished up the cars for that day. Then he stayed overtime working on the Ford- fixing the broken shifts, replacing the broken pipes, and oiling the gears. And then- the headlights popped on. Then the engine started. And then..... Jack drove it home. Jack sat in the driveway- thinking up his next move. A new car, a new apartment, small furniture. Jack got out of the car and made his way quietly in the house. It was past dinner, and the house smelled of chili spices and garlic. But Jack ignored that. Instead he tip toed up stairs and moved the crate in the backseat of the car. Making a second trip, Jack grabbed the trash bags of clothes and stuffed in the trunk before peeling over to his new apartment. 

Looking around the empty spaces, Jack decided that in the morning, he would move everything out of his home. He would call some guys over and they would move his bed and desk out of the haunted home he resided in and into his new home. A shrilling chill crawled down Jack's spine. A static shock of excitement and enchantment overflowed him, as he found his legs jumping high and then carefully hitting the ground as not to disturb the sleeping neighbors. Jack would call Bernie and ask for the morning off and that by late afternoon, he would work until late evening. Then he would call Charles and John, to help move his bed and desk with the promise of cold beers and a few dollars. He had it all set. It would be the perfect escape from the years- the 19 years of vigorous maltreat that he suffered at the hands of his father. All the tears, the screams, the fights, the harsh words- all rooted and conjoined in this vein of David. Memories of the smell of  hot leather would sting through his nose from time to time. Sometimes, the hair on his left arm would raise slightly with more goosbumps; David's favorite arm to use when he pressed a hot skillet to it or slap the upper arm when Jack stood in his way a little too long.

Jack stood solid on the floor. His eyes brimming with tears. The hole was deep- deeper than Jack thought... or wanted. Jack could rebel-he always did- but it still didn't take it away. The horror he felt of making David angry and the slew of degrading threats that would be pounded into him for the tiniest mistakes. Jack would never tell anyone of his agility skills origin; he could curl himself into ball, wedging himself in the corners where David couldn't see him. Or how flat he could make his body from laying under his bed for hours until David sobered up. 

Jack fought for his life from day one until today. Jumping out the belt's way to protect his legs, ducking down with sharp speed- protecting his face from punches or shifting himself out of the way from David's slaps. It made David angrier sometimes. He would be chased, sometimes down the neighboorhood blocks- where he would hide in the tree at the park, around the corner of Mr. McGail's house. He was decent. Just watching from his front porch at the spectical sometimes, when David would ask where Jack went, he'd point him in the opposite direction. Although, Jack hadn't found this out until middle school. "I've been beaten a few times in my life..." He started. "I just don't think it's right- and that's my take on that." 

Jack made a habit from that moment on, to be Mr. McGails personal helper on some summer days when the lawn needed mowing or his driveway shoveled after glowering winters. It was an indicate of Jack's personal graditude. And Mr. McGail knew it- up until someone else moved into his home after his passing. It was that fall. And Jack had felt this emptiness nest inside him. A quiet pity of the nice elderly man who never knew how much he saved him. That was also the last summer, Jack would ever be chased by David. His age finally caught up with him- so he simply stopped.

Jack liked to think Mr. McGail was above the clouds, giving him a shady wink for the nonsense they caused in front of his home. Maybe a slight nod of just helping a kid out.

But Jack didn't have too much of it. That's how it always was. Jack defended Jack. Jack barked back, Jack hit back, Jack ran back. He had to. Even with his mother's gentle words and generous touches, it wasn't enough. He needed power- something- anything to shield him from David. He couldn't afford to live life- he had to live on the edge. Ready to spring out of bed when David would come into the house slamming the door. Ready to dart from Andy's house, only a few minutes past curfew. Ready to shove all his teddies and treasured toys into the darkest corners of his closet.

Ready. That's how Jack was born. Ready.

Jack knew pain. He knew survival. But he knew love. He knew how to hug himself on tired nights when his welted back hurt. He knew how to bandage his own elbows and knees, and stitch the rips in clothes after being dragged by the fringes on David's drunk days. Nights were the best. Jack was never a child too afraid of the dark. He loved the solitude. To him, it was thinking time. Time to reflect and ask himself the important questions. What he would do the next time David hit him? Or how should he respond the next time his toy was smashed? In the light of the moon, there was Jack in his little bedroom, spending time with himself. He loved spending hours crafting little robots or figurines from clay or loose screws he would find. Jack- watching his mother- knew how long to press an iron onto a set of jeans before smoothing them out carefully. He knew how long to bake cookies in the oven and what times to check on spagehetti while it boiled in the pot. 

Jack knew that a glass of milk and a little debbie would sometimes make David's internal voices less harsh. He knew hugging your teddy can turn nightmares into dreams. He knew to cursive his name onto a piece of paper and how make paper airplanes fly across the sky- launching from the backyard.

Then by middle school, Jack loved baseball. He tried pitching. It was alright. But batting was perfect. Everyday pent up emotions were the bat, and his problems were the ball. Striking hard against the ball and scoring high points for the team became his field. Well known enough for David to place bets on him with the other fathers. If he even showed up to a game. Sometimes he would, just for the bets. Other times he wouldn't because the bar was open and waiting. Sometimes....Jack would lose. And David- losing a bet- would smack him across his little face. "You fuck everything up. Stupid dumbass little shit!" Spitting in his face, David would grab Jack and throw him in the backseat of the car and drive home cursing his name under his breath.

That's who David was. And Jack accepted that. He held no expectations to him, nor would ever be able to. Jack could look around and see the different fathers displaying their tough love with soppyness to it. He craved it. He nurtured that warm feeling in his heart everytime a male teacher or one of his friend's fathers would give him a gentle pat on the back or and rub their hands over his mop of hair. It was just something about the way Jack's heart would flutter when seeing cartoons of Dads giving squeezing hugs or loud echoing kisses to their offsprings. This sentimental affection was love. Jack- a twenty year old- still felt the same squeeze of his heart everytime a father carried that chunk of affection. His love language.

A language only a few people would understand, like him. How much children needed those kisses on their cheeks or those bear hugs against their bodies. Bedtimes stories on papa's lap and funny silly voices or gentle cooing voices for pleasure or reassurance. 

Jack, promised himself, his children would understand the delicate language of love. His sons and daughters would be wrapped in his arms and his smile would be only for them. His dreams would be of his wife laying against him in the grass while the children ran around the yard happily. And that's all he could want- happiness. Jack, was a happy person. A good person. He would never hurt anyone- not even a little fly. He just... had to protect himself from David. David stood on the other line of wanting to break his spirit. He wanted Jack to sink so low and so deep into the cold slooshy wet mier of pain, that love would die. Happy would die. 

Jack would die.

Jack had dreams. He learned to have them. Just like he learned to sew and cook and make bruises disappear and cuts and scraps stop bleeding. And Jack had those big dreams- high and bright. Like the apartment he stood in- feet strict to the floorboards. And maybe the college he wanted to be apart of; King's College only a few blocks away from his townhouse. Engineering would be his major. He would do what he loved; crafting things from scratch. Making a life of burning down the old and building up the new.

And he would become a bartender to pay for the classes and work for Bernie to pay for the townhouse. And he would one day leave the crowded city- taking route sixty six down to the California hills. Jack knew his wife would be there, and they're home with the lush backyard where their kids would play. A blonde haired little girl- favoring his wife from every detail of her face, and a little brunette boy- vivid eyes like himself with the same ambition that sparked his early arrival into the world. It was all waiting. Everything waited for Jack- motioning him to take that first move- that first step towards the rest of his life. And so.... he would burn it all down.

He had to. He couldn't spend even another night in that house. His future was his escape from the dread decorum that ran the household. He had to prove this to himself. That he could be free. That Jack Chambers, did not suffer in vain. He did not believe that men had to be uptight, or women had to be dainty, or children had to be just mere echos of convenience.

Jack would settle the mental battle he fought for years. He would prove that even before the sense of maturity and experience kicked in, that this gut feeling- stronger than the rest- was his saftey net. That his instinct is what moved him to burn down the presinct, and smash those beer bottles against the hard pavement of the driveway. That sewing the rips in his own jeans was more than childhood education or curiousity of how things were done. That from the moment he heard the rash voice of his father, and weak cries of his mother, that he was correct. That he could do better. He was better.

That he deserved better. Looking into the face of morals before he even understood what they meant, was something inside him all along. Defending himself in the face of bleak iniquity and daring himself in aftermath of consequences became his life. And it would always be apart of it. Unafraid to challange the laws or stomp over bad authority.

Unafraid to take himself over the lines of perfection and duty, and into the blades of a certain unsureness. So for that.... he would set it on fire. He would wake up, stare his parents into their eyes and tell them he was leaving.

And with his hands tied, watch it all blaze and burn down, before resting to a cooling burnt ashed grave. And he would stand in those ashes and look at them. Then he would kick up his sneakers and scrape the ash off his soles and keep walking. Not looking back for a minute, a second or a lifetime. His life- would finally be his own. And his dreams would be his reality. A new perspective on what life truly could be.

Walking out into the hallway, Jack took one last look around at the apartment before closing the door and locking it.

****************************

The wails of firetrucks streamed down the block. Taking a passing corner around the Chamber home, the engines honked and sped only a few blocks down the street towards the left of Central Ave, where someone had set fire to the Jenn residence, 'The porcelain house' as some people called it because of their all white exterior and shiny glass designs inside.

But the Chamber household did boil. 

Jack stood in front of a sobbing Lucy and a disgruntled David as John and Charles moved around them- pulling dresser drawers down the steps and into the back seat of Jack's car. Then the hollow frame of the dresser came and moved around them, and then the mattress, and then the bed, finally halting with Jack's desk.

Professionals, as Jack called them- not missing a beat or dropping one fragile item to the floor.

David turned and scowled at Jack. "After everything we've done- and you're gonna just take off and leave!" Jack kept silent but nodded, closing his eyes briefly and opening them to David's angry ones. "Ungrateful son of a bitch- when I was your age- I worked my ass off to take care of my folks- not just leave them behind in the dust like the way you do!"

Jack knew this wasn't true. David grew up in foster care all his life.

Jack didn't bat an eye. "It's not personal-" "Oh! 'It's not personal' " David mocked. "It is personal! You only care about yourself! Where is this new place anyway?!" Jack shook his head and turned to his mother. "Mom....I'm leaving now." Lucy turned to Jack. Soppy tears dripping down her face with a sorrow filled stare. "Please...." She managed to beg. "Don't go." 

"I have to." David scoffed. "Ungrateful pussy." Jack didn't argue the logic. Clutching his knuckles, Jack had made a promise to himself and he intended to keep it. Looking down, Jack saw the last of his items being placed into the tow along cargo space on the back of his car. Taking a deep breath, Jack narrowed his eyes to David. "Goodbye Dad.... take care." His voice sturdy and unwavering, he brushed past him and hugged Lucy. Placing the house keys in her palm, he looked into his damp and puffy eyes. "Take care Mom...." Kissing her cheek, he continued to stare into her eyes until they were completly empty. "Take care...." 

"I love you Jack!" She called as he stepped aside from her. Turning around and meeting her gaze. "I love you too." 

Jack turned to David, whose eyes were filled with absurd fury. Jack- without thinking- wrapped his arms around David and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, before quickly letting go. David's eyes softened. The crease in his brows became less prominant and his fist unclenched themselves a bit. But Jack still held a certain sterness in his stare. His mind even rambled reasons for his sparodic affection towards his father. Maybe because it was just common decency. Maybe a heat in the moment type gesture. Jack would never know; not changing his feelings of David, he would be left in the dark of his actions until one rainy Sunday when he would sit with his wife staring down at the burnt mahogany box that held what was left of David.

Biting the edge of his lip, Jack waited. Waited for David to respond to what he had just given him. A leaden silence filled the room for a moment, as David was gasping inside to find the right words or the right gesture- anything for this sudden blow of love his son presented him after it being thrown back into his face so many times by himself. But this time was different. Maybe a dense ring of finality rang heavily through his bones. And that touch, would be the last he ever felt of Jack. The last he would smell his seasoned amber and musk cologne against the ridge of his neck. The last time he would feel his son's bulky strong hands touch the delicate pare of his back.

Staring into Jack's eyes- vividly jade and ardent- David couldn't speak. His mouth was paralyzed shut and his lungs were blowing out steam from his nostrils like how they did in a crime scene where the body of whoever laid flat on the ground while the killer ran free and undetected. A survival instinct that he carried all his life, had now promoted itself to something he struggled to comprehend for years. Love. And something about that.... he just couldn't let himself attach to.

Jack tightened the backpack over his back and turned away, taking the final steps through the house, to the front door and then closing it without looking back even once.

The house fell silent and David stood even quieter wondering what he was to do and what he just done.

*****************************

A hawkish chill lingered through the fall air. School was in session; Jack had recently enrolled over the summer into King's College for the semester. Engeineering and mechanics were Jack's primary classes amongst mathamatics and science.

Picking up the night shift with the local tavern only a few streets from his townhouse, Jack worked as the bartender. Pouring drinks and serving them to desperate customers earned him a few hundred dollars every other week along with the gracious tips he would receive from his excellent service. It payed for his semester and earned him extra money for sudden repairs or for a night out in the city for a decent dinner whenever his energy couldn't hold him up to the stove to cook another pasta meal. It was the tavern job that he worked- got him into cigarettes. Lighting one every night after a rough shift with the rowdy patrons. Jack, would sometimes help himself to the swigs of a Bloody Mary from time to time during long hours.

Maybe it was to dull some of the pain he felt inside too. The sudden shift of how life can take such a quick turn into a mucky ditch.

Late September was when Jack had come into work for Bernie. Hours had passed and he hadn't shown up on the usual six o'clock bus he usually took to arrive bright and early for the shift. Jack was always one hour later. But this day, an icky trace dropped into the pit of Jack's stomach. He couldn't pinpoiny exactly when it happened. Maybe while he was fixing Mr. Hoover's Duesenberg, or Ms. Malorie's Bentley- but sometime around that time, Jack had checked his watch and the clock had already struck twelve. It was his lunch break when he drove down to Bernie's tattered old apartment by Central Park. Down the rickety street where he slowly crept up to his floor and found Bernie still in bed. 

Jack's heart fell into his throat. Somehow his feet couldn't move him to Bernie, but pushing himself- almost tripping- he did. Bernie didn't stir once. Trailing back downstairs, Jack alerted Bernie's neighboor, Donna, that Bernie was dead and to call an ambulance. "What's his pulse?"

Jack shook his head. "He doesn't have one.... I'm sorry." 

Waiting to the side as the ambulance drivers cocooned Bernie in the white sheet while on top of the stretcher, Jack felt small tickles against his face. His nose became more labored in his sniffs of air, but Jack hadn't realized he was crying until Donna placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and gently wiped the tears dripping off his chin.

"It'll be alright, child. He was a good man." She turned to Jack and smiled faintly. "You take of yourself, ya hear?" Jack nodded. A sniffle escaping him. He turned to Donna with a somber smile. "Thank you so much.... you take care too." 

A week later, the shop closed. Another week passed- someone bought it. It was no longer a repair shop but a gas station. 

Jack and Donna took the liberty to clear out Bernie's things. Donna with his apartment, and Jack with the shop. Bernie had no family, so the two held a quiet burial for him with candles in his hands and prayers above his grave. After that, they parted ways, but would forever share the moment between them.

Jack however, kept his old uniform. Tucking it away safely in storage, he would always remember the first job that gave him the opportunity of a fresh start.

****************************************

Working half into two in the morning- picking up extra slack- Jack had forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom for a quick shower. Then a solid breakfast of coffee and toast before leaving the apartment and fleetly saying 'hi' to Emily. Evans, who lived a little ways down the hall. She wasn't too old, but rather looked in her early thirties. Tall and curvaceous built, wavy auburn hair and amber eyes. Jack found her sweet, pretty and kind. But, was too busy to fair any attention back her way. 

Skiling down the stairs, Jack piled into his car and drove down to the college and made it inside at the usual fifthteen minutes before class like he always did. Grabbing the books and notebook from his locker, Jack made it into class with ten minutes left to spare. 

May Hollowood. The girl he kept locking eyes with for some reason, just happened to be right across from his desk this morning. May was beautiful, and she knew it. A Dorothy Lee smile and a Marion Davies far away look, as Jack would describe. Thick flamming red bob cut locks, light pearl blue eyes, deeply dimpled cheeky smile with the most reddest lips sealing over the pearly smile she flashed everytime she saw Jack. What could she be doing in this class? Was the though that ran through Jack's mind. Mathematics class- Jack didn't totally care for the class, and held no objections or chauvinism towards a woman wanting to pursue any type course or career.

But, May wasn't the type of girl that took her studies seriously. She talked to every Joe, Paul, and Ben in the college and was always found twirling her hair during class, rather than jotting down notes of any kind. Jack kept his focus keenly on the words of his professor and the equations he wrote on the board. Trying to solve them in his head, Jack found it hard to focus with May's eyes knowingly on him. A last resort: Jack wrote the problems down for later and promised himself that he would work on them before work. Slight exasperation washed through Jack. He decided to politely ignore May for the rest of the day.

May wasn't the only girl to lust herself to Jack. Kelly Henderson loved the way Jack's bangs would appear in front of his face when the strainds of his slicked hair, would nudge over towards the front of his face. Annabelle West was fiercly attracted to Jack's confident posture with his back pressed against the wall, smoking a cigarette, while scanning the students that passed him. The there was Sally Beckett who could almost imagine herself against Jack's tall lanky figure with his bulky arms around her waist while she stared into his emerald eyes and let the heart curve of his lips press on her cheek.

But May followed Jack. She felt more than simple attraction- deeper than the ingenious thought Emily Evans carried everytime she saw Jack lock up his door and stride down the steps. Letting the vision of his protective grasp around her torso enravel her as she stumbled back into her apartment and finish making her morning coffee. 

So, May decided her first approach would be in the college courtyard, around the outside corridors, where Jack would be puffing in his afternoon and mid morning cigarette. "You have a light?" She asked, zipping around to Jack's view. Jack thought for a moment before pulling out a lighter from his pocket. Flicking the flame up to her cigarette, May smiled. "Thanks. Not too many gentlemen around here." Jack raised his eyebrows in agreement. Some of the guys did only think about one thing when they saw a pretty girl they liked.

Taking a puff of her cigarette, May smiled wider to Jack. "So you-" The bell rang, signaling classes to begin again. As Jack excused himself, May bit her lip and watched as Jack ran aimlessly though the throngs of students, tossing and stomping out his bud before disappearing inside the building. 

*******************************

It was Saturday night. Jack didn't work weekends. Sitting at the bar with his friends, Andy, Charles and Jude, Jack was downing a martini. Scanning the night scene, the rush of people swinging in and out of the bar with their drinks and booming chatter and boisterous laughter. Reaching for a cigarette, Jack pressed it between his lips. Flicking his lighter back and forth- no fire rooting from it. "Light?" A saultry voice next to him spoke.

Turning and seeing May there, holding her lit lighter out in front of Jack's cigarette. Taking a puff, Jack smiled cautiously. "Thank you." May shrugged. "Just thought I'd return the favor." Jack gave a small arched smile and tried to go back to his drink. But May hovered next to him, letting the spicy blossom perfume swim through Jack's space. Feeling her soft hands touch his arm, she flashed him the same pearly smile she always did. Jack hadn't noticed the sparkle that twinkled inside her eyes. Bright sky blue eyes when settled in the mundane light. Easy and alluring with reason. Pressing her shiny red lips to Jack's cheek, leaving the red residue stain there, Jack felt this tingle through his spine.

May's soft presence eased Jack more than he would've liked. A comforting illumine wrapped around the two of them- becoming the only two people in sight. Jack could soon only see May's face. Her soft gentle face met his in a way he couldn't describe. Letting her lean in closely, Jack let his lips touch hers and soon, even a few drinks couldn't intoxicate Jack the way May did. Leading her to his car, Jack and May drove to Jack's townhouse.

Leading her upstairs, Jack had comepletly missed Emily coming from her apartment with a freshly baked cherry pie- whipped cream dolloped on top perfectly- only to see Jack and May making out against the door jam of Jack's door, before disappearing inside his place. Emily quietly went back inside her apartment, turning off her lights for the evening.

Meanwhile, in Jack's apartment......

May and Jack slammed into every corner of the room, tossing their clothes to the floor: against the chair, over the couch, by the TV, in the hallway. Making it into the room, naked May leaped into Jack's arms- arms clinging to his neck, legs wrapped around his waist, letting his body press into hers tightly. Her soft moans became louder as they trailed into Jack's bedroom. Their bare bodies heaved on top of each other- Jack kissing her neck ferociously as her naked body laid under his, pressing itself against his, until her nails finally scratched his back and hands clung to the sides of her back, letting their breaths fall and gasp into each others with a heavy final howl of breathless words. Jack slid to May's side, looking into her eyes with the fluff of his own. May's smirk played through Jack's mind. A memory he'd never forget- his first time. May would forever be the girl he gave himself to. 

He'd never forget the sweetnes of her eyes and gentleness of her lips. How she clung to him for comfort and pleasure and how she let him take the control. Fanning herself and fixing the messy strainds of hair, May finally locked eyes with Jack. "You were good." She breathed. "So were you....." Jack wanted to tell May of his pride in her being his one, but bit his tongue. Instead, he fell asleep with May tracing his back with her finger and to the sounds of her soft humming breath.

By morning, Jack turned around and his bed and felt nothing. Opening his eyes slowly, May was gone. Grabbing his nylon briefs from the couch, Jack saw that all of May's clothes were gone. The front door was closed and she had comepletly disappeared. Like she had never exsisted. Jack threw on his clothes, and went into the hallway. Emily's door was closed. Jack didn't notice too much, but found it unusal considering how she would always be there to open her door when she heard Jack's door open. Jack spent the Sunday inside the apartment mostly, but eventually went out for dinner. 

Jack wanted to know where May's apartment was. Was she staying in a dorm with roomates? Did she still live with her parents? He needed to know. His mind flickered between the picture show that played inside his mind of May's soft body pressed against his. It swayed through the night, misting through his brain and in his dreams. His heart sped when thinking of May. Her soft hair, her gentle skin, the sureness of her eyes. It all lived inside Jack's head rent free- no strings attached. Jack didn't realize the rosation of his cheeks in his sleep- sizzling deeply in his skin the more he dreamed of her lilac scent pressing deeply into his collar. No number, no address, no way to reach May or understand her. Jack endorsed that he would greet May in the corridors at school Monday. She would be there in floral pink dress, her white little heels and cherry lipstick, lacing her arm around his and walking around the college to showcase themselves to everyone like golden trophies in a glass case. Jack fell asleep, dreaming of May- hoping silently she'll return to him tomorrow.

***************************************

Monday came. Jack arrived up and early- fixing his breakfast, stepping into the shower and dressing in a slick polo with dockers- dabbing on some cologne on his neck, and fixing his collar neatly.

Stepping outside, Jack met eyes with Emily. Giving her a polite smile, she gave a tightend half one before brisking herse;f down the stairs. An arch crossed over Jack's eyebrow, but he shook it off, passing her while exiting the townhouse.

Jack made a point to arrive twenty minutes early to college, hoping to spot May somewhere outside in the courtyard, or by her locker chatting with her friends. Maybe she's thinking of me Jack thought. Maybe she'll be talking about us as her latest hookup. She put in so much effort to follow me, she's gotta be interested.

A familiar chuckle grabbed Jack's attention. It was around the corner of chemistry class on the second floor. The halls were bare and the students were either just getting to the school or probably haven't even awoken from the dorms yet. But, Jack turned the corner. Quietly and vigilant- bracing himself against something unexpected. He always got enough of those when he turned corners and was smacked with a surprise boy and girl coition. But this time, he caught the firery fringes of May's hair. Her slender frame, her diverting laugh- all in light of the corner that Jack peered around. May- making out with some guy- lips locked deeply into his without hesitation. Jack went unnoticed, but was paralyzed to the scene. His legs felt wobbly like jelly, but were somehow still bolted onto the floor. His eyes frozen on the bewitching act play out right in front of him as if he didn't matter.

And he didn't Not to May anyway.

Carefully walking away, Jack's blushing wishful cheeks had become a face filled shade of red. Bright echoing red from anger mixed in utter humilation. Of all the broken pieces that still lived in Jack, the one honest one, the one bold one, the one hopeful and sensitive piece of himself had been wasted. Fully wasted, like money being flushed down the toliet, or fresh beer being poured out onto the pavement of the ground. Jack felt wasted. Used up and broken. Shattered to the ground like crystals. Jack didn't understand how he stayed in class that whole day. Maybe because of the deep determination he had to his goal. His passion to be what he wanted. Never making eye contact with May the entire day- and somehow, she was okay with that. She never looked in Jack's direction anyway. She was already on to someone else. It all singed inside Jack deeper than he wanted it to. 

Shame layed over his body like a blanket, making him want to hide himself- cover himself over like he was naked, walking around the school for everyone to see his nakedness. Once school ended, Jack smoked down three cigarettes and gluped down a whole beer pack. Drunk and sloppy, Jack took himself to bed and decided that his Monday studies would become his Tuesday ones.

Jack woke up and hour before work. Sober, he took another shower, grabbed a quick dinner -a peanut butter and jelly sandwich - before grabbing his keys and rushing out the door. 

"Where's that one girl?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Emily swallowed. "Oh, there was this one woman- she said hi and we talked and... I didn't know if she lived in the apartment or not." Emily regretted what she said. Jack blinked, cheeks becoming flushed again. "Oh, uh... no she doesn't." Jack let his eyebrows furrow. He looked up again, forcing a smile across his face. "Yeah.. she was just visiting." Jack smirked. "Your apartment's always looks so cozy." Emily let a smile spread over her face. "Thanks, I love your apartment too! It's so sensual and artistic..." Emily bit her tongue. She kicked herself for allowing her lips to speak so out of term. Her heart skipping a beat- her face flushed and dampening with her sweat. Jack smiled. "Thanks.... I really apperciate it." Looking at his watch, Jack signaled his need to leave. 

"It was nice talking to you." Emily smiled, letting Jack pass her through the hall. Watching him trail down the stairs, she let herself oogle the way his body- sturdy and broad- gait out the door. A blush pecked through her face. A flash of heat swam through her body while a thick patch of fuzz sizzled through her heart. Emily walked back inside her apartment, melting into her couch as she let the image of Jack flow through her brain once again.

*********************************

The shift was tough. Two fights between drunks guys held things up in the tavern, like they always did, leaving extra work for Jack. Jack was a natural at plastering on a polite smile with polite small talk and a good mood persona to get through the days. 

Serving drinks and earning tips for the night until three in the morning when he needed the extra overtime hour to make up the difference on a surprise electric bill charge. Stumbling back home, Jack plopped down on the couch, wide awake. Counting the timeline of how Sunday evening, all he could think about was May; astethic with fondness and a prancing dote. Now, the last thing he wanted to think about was May. And how she used him. How she betrayed him and shattered his self worth into a million pieces. But... Jack blamed himself too. How dare he walk into such a situation where his logic and reasoning where thrown to the side over and ardent dream of a one night stand passion. How he threw his dignity over edge just feel an eccentric fill of love for a few moments only to be lower than rock bottom when it was all over.

While Jack could hate himself, he also pitied himself. The first genuine gash of love he felt from someone- anyone, willing to be intimate with him and hold onto him for the same needy reason he carried for years. How much he needed someone to be interested in him and show him love and suffocate him in it for such a big price. Jack knew he needed it. He knew it wasn't over. The same reason he allowed his cigarette to be lit by the woman, was at the root of where he was now. Alone and sitting in the dark with only a lightly lit living room lamp, whose bulb needed replacing.

But Jack liked being alone. At least that's what he thought. He did though. But.... he still carried that craving. A constant crave of affection. In a world where if you were in a certain position- mostly of circumstance- then, you wouldn't get it. Sexual vibes were the only piece of affection that you could obtain- as much, whenever, how ever you like it.

But Jack didn't want it. Not always. Sure he loved the feeling of May's body, but he needed something more. He wanted something more which was why he was in college in the first place. But....what if that wasn't enough? What if dreams had to just stay dreams? The flame could never be sparked into a fire, but contained inside- safely so you don't hurt yourself. 

Follow the rules- is what lingered through his head. Don't fan the flames, and you'll be okay. Keep your head down and do what's expected.

Repeated all through his life in subtle, yet blunt ways. His mother's coddling of David. His father's roughness with him. These things played through Jack's brain- unstopping or unhooking itself into this merry-go-round of melancholy.

But Jack pinched himself. Not physically, but mentally. He would never allow this to tinker through his body like they had been right. Like the cages they imprisoned themselves in were for best interest. Jack shook himself awake. Pounding the thoughts of May, Lucy, David, Bernie, the guy May was kissing, Donna, Emily and everyone and everything else out of his brain. Jack sat up, grabbed his books, his notebook and sat down at his kitchen nook with a cup of coffee, a timer and a pencil

Monday's work would stay Monday's work.

**********************************************

New's Years day rang in at midnight. Two years had passed, old neighbors left- Emily got married and moved up to Nebraska with her new husband- a ginger tabby had made himself into Jack's new roomate- spolied with warm milk, forehead rubs and kisses, a fuzzy warm bed and a thick red collar against the fat of his neck- earning himself the name, Simba. The perfect name Jack thought for such a spolied kitten. But Jack adored him. Walking across the window seal of his apartment, Jack nabbed the little kitty before it could fall and made it his duty to care for him from then on. "He's too little to be on his own." He cooed, rubbing his nose against his own.

Jack was also working extra hard- his last year of college was really grinding him as the last final would determine whether he would have to repeat the course over. 

January rang in with frosty breezes and sloshy crisp snow, that crunched when your boots clomped it. The shoveled streets where clear. Mostly people walking on the sidewalks to catch in the morning air of mid winter. Jack could remember the feeling of the cold slapping against his face as he and his friends were lined up at Time's Square to watch the clock strike and the ball drop at midnight after the countdown. A stream of tickling snowflakes fell from the sky on that exact moment, leaving Jack to ponder the miracle. He wished for happiness and a week later, Simba was welcomed into his home.

Winter break was still extant; Jack and his friends decided a day out at the pub in Albany- after sight seeing and exotic food tasting- they settled down in the heart of the early evening for a dinner in one of the pubs. Jack explained his lastest class- Mr. Barret made the class do a math exercise with a tennis ball. It was fun, but rather difficult to keep up. As Charles was explaining a funny story- how some girl led him to her home for sex, while her parents were still at the house. "They flipped out when they saw me come through the door!" The boys let out a haughty chuckle. 

A man entered the pub. He met eyes with Jack for a quick second before turning back to a table at the bar. Furrowing his eyebrows, the man turned back to Jack- laughing and talking with his friends- scoffing down the hefty club sandwiches and beer with them, all smiles and cheers. The man was Wayne Hedel. David's friend from high school, who worked only a few corners away from the presinct, at the construction ground. Eyeing Jack, carefully- making sure he caught the familiar face correctly. The same chocolate slicked back hair with the tuff asloped over to the side over his face, curtaining his eye. The same alluring vivid green eyes that could bore holes into you or snatch you into a net of reassuring sympathy when you need it.

Wayne kept focus on the beer he held in front of him. But his mind wandered to one thing: May. His niece- in the same college Jack was in, had accidentally disclosed how she let one guy take her back to his place and showed him a good time after signaling him in class and offering him a lit for his cigarette after he did for her in the college courtyard. Laughing, she exclaimed how Bruce was a better lover, but Jack gave her the satisfaction.

Wayne hadn't told David; conflicted with whether he should- his temper flaring upon the realization of his son hooking up with a 'broad' like the cocotte boy he was. Wayne let the indesicion eat at him for the night. He slept in his misery, not knowing what he could say to David. Seeing him everyday, making small talk while drinking beers against the pillar of an old factory, just didn't seem right as long as he held in this news. He liked Jack. He knew how hard he had it at home and couldn't bare to see any more pain come to him. But David would find out. He knew he would eventually- and hurt him. David would hurt Jack if he found out himself. Maybe Wayne could head him off- telling Jack, David knew. Telling David to calm down and reason it out. They would reason it out together. Somehow, it made it okay. If Wayne headed him off, David might be rational for once. David might make amends with Jack and explain how everyone makes mistakes and how much he loved him. That this would be something between him and Jack- Lucy wouldn't know. She didn't have to.

Wayne slept better the rest of the night. He would tell David. He would tell him the truth and they could make up- like true father and son. 

Shuttling his position in bed, Wayne turned over toward the window, letting the moon hit his face. Letting the tranquil trill of the night soothe him.

*******************************************

"OPEN THE DOOR, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" 

Jack was huddled on his couch, cradling Simba in his arms as the hurls and pounding threat of his door being kicked down ran through him like a jagged opening in the stomach. Carefully stepping onto the floor, Jack locked Simba inside the bathroom and tip toed to the door. "JACK I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" Jack grabbed the phone a dialed for the police of a disturbance. A sour flush bled over his face; neighbors inside their complexes thinking the worst of him upon hearing the loud pounding of his door. Only his door and no one elses. It made rage crawl through Jack like ants over a picnic. 

Slamming the phone against the base, Jack carefully made his way back to the couch and just waited. Left fate in the hands of the universe- hoping they would send the police as soon as possible. Hopefully, catching David in the act and not letting his badge of a detective meddle in their protocol to their job.

Sets of footsteps traced the stairs of the apartment, hearing them shuffle to Jack's door, where David had parked himself there. A knock on the door sounded. A regular knock- not a pounding beat that echoed through the door frame. "Hello? Someone called?" Jack ran to the door, opening it with his body skirting a little through the sliver where the chain lock would allow. "Yes! I called because of this man- my father- he's pounding on my door- harassing me and is acting very aggressive." David, yanked his wallet out from his back pocket and pulled out his police I.D. Jack somehow knew this, and unlocked his door, allowing himself to stand in the face of the officers and David.

The police scanned the I.D. and then turned to Jack. "I want him removed from my residence." Stiff and stern, Jack didn't even look into the eyes of David. The sudden door burst open of Emily's place. The police officers turned to her. "Did you happen to see anything?" Emily looked at Jack, then at David, then at the officers. "I didn't see anything, but I heard someone screaming my neighbors name while pounding hard against his door." Another door swung open. Mr. Richardson's. "I was in my home when this man," pointing to David, "came to this young's man's door and was causing a bunch of disturbance." 

Soon, almost everyone's doors opened and saw the chaos happening. "Alright sir," one of the officers grabbed David's arm. "You're under arrest for the trespassing and violent disturbance of the building." Taking David away quickly while he yelled profanites, Jack looked to everyone- smiling and letting his vision blur- with graciousness. "Thank you all so much! You have no idea what that means to me." 

Mr. Richardson smiled. "Aw, don't worry about it sonny, you're a good neighbor and we appericate you." Jack kept the smile over his face as he disappeared back inside his apartment with everyone else. Jack could be thankful for the support. But he could know that what happened would never be forgotten. Jack grabbed Simba from the bathroom and rocked him in his arms gently. Not so much to soothe the crying cat, but to stifle the looming tears of Jack. 

Anger bubbled over his fear. His shame, his public embarrassment of his father storming up to his townhouse and making a scene. And for what? For nothing. Jack couldn't possibly understand why David would decide all of a sudden to make a scene. How did he even know where his apartment was? How did he even know he lived in the Brooklyn Cladar apartments? How did he even know he lived in Brooklyn? All these questions with no answers swirled around Jack's mind like a ring-around-the-rosie type of circle.

Why? Why did David have to do this? What did Jack do to make it happen? These questions needed to be answered. They needed solance. And Jack decided he would find it.

***********************************************

"Jack... it's mom. I want you to come home okay?" She wimpered. "Your father's in jail..... I don't know what happened- but he needs to be bailed out.... oh Jack, if you could just spare something-"

"Mom.... it's Jack. Dad's in jail, because I called the police on him for disturbing the peace at my apartment." A pause stood over the line. "What?" 

"Dad, marched up to my townhouse-" "Jack I don't understand-"

"Mom! Listen, I called the cops on Dad because he lost his mind!" Jack broke. "He stormed up to my apartment and caused a big scene- enough for the neighbors to have to come out and explain what happened! Do you know why he did it?!" 

"No. I didn't know that happened. You called the police?" "Yes! I had no choice!" 

"But Jack... he's your father."

"Yeah... yes he is." 

"Your poor father.... rotting in that cell. Oh Jack... please!"

"No."

"Jack!"

"Mom! Dad needs to be there! After everything he caused, he deserves more!" "Don't you dare speak like that about him! He loves you- he provided for you- you show him some respect!"

"He loves me...... you know-"

"I don't wanna hear it Jack!"

"I don't care! He's abusive Mom! He abused you! He abused me! He still fucking does! You can say someone loves you- you can say you love someone.... that doesn't make it true. It doesn't mean anything as long as you can't show it. Tough love doesn't exsist with Dad. He's mean, cold, violent.....he's not a nice person. He's not a good father.... and he's not a good husband. He's not a good man, Mom. But... you have to believe that- you have to see something better for yourself in order to see the ugly in him. But you don't.... you defend him like it doesn't exsist and it does! It's all around you, but you refuse to let yourself see it! So.. no. No bail money. No 'I'm sorrys'. Nothing..... get out while you can. If you can value that... then leave him now. That's all I can do. I love you.... but I can't do this. I have to go.... bye."

Lucy let the humming sound of the dead line beep through her. Tears tricked down her cheeks. Her heart felt hollow and heavy. Her breath, steady and rhythm like- as to keep her breath going for consciousness. Setting the phone down onto the base, Lucy soaked in the silence of her home. A wail rose from her throat, releasing itself into the bitter thick marsh of tension she accumulated inside her body. Strolling up to Jack's room, she finally let the door open. 

Nothing. Just like Jack said. Nothing was there. Not his bed, or his desk or his curtains that bellowed in the spring breeze, nor the little chifforobe dresser he had over towards the corner of his room. Empty. Everything snatched and ripped away from his room- starved of Jack's presense of every corner, every little speak or dust that settled- nothing was Jack's. Jack was wiped clean from the home. Not by any influance, but his own. He hated the house, he hated the family he was given.... he hated his life here. And for the first time, something unsettled itself inside Lucy. Something had made the frothing understanding of who Jack was to her, settle in its place.

The deeply webbed interior of Jack that she held in her mind, suddenly started to fade. Those eyes that would search every stranger for, every young man she met, would never be Jack's eyes. Only a representive of what they were and how she saw them. The same net that she thought she had found in David was just a lie. Jack's eyes carried that safety. Because he was safe. He truly held the idea of the unknown- the unattained. Jack- kicked the dust off his jeans, stiched the holes in the soles of his shoes and walked away. He made something better. Jack didn't let David bury him.

Jack.... gave himself what he needed and carried himself that way. And for that... he was stronger than Lucy. He was stronger than David.

Stronger... then what she could have ever been. And for some reason- all those years of tug-of-war between father and son, had incidently carried another standing in mother and son. For all that time until today, it never settled deeply into Lucy as much as did now. Being alone in an empty room held this other presence. She failed. She knew she did...

But not so much to Jack. Not so much to David, or Diane, or her mother or her family or anyone else.

But to her. For the first time.... Lucy would have to finally feel the blades of the lumpy mattress of her bed that she made up.

And lay there. All alone. 

"Jack...." was all she could whisper. "Jack...... Jack..... Jack...." But he was long gone. She would never be there with him. 

And somehow.... in some way...... that's what he wanted her to feel. To understand... to feel. Deep inside herself.

Lucy would always be the woman she envisioned herself to be, not the one she could've dreamed to become. She let it die out. And for that.... she lost Jack. She knew she did. She knew he would never come back... she knew.... the little boy she could only comfort in time of distress was gone. All that was left was the hollow memory of what never was. And she had to live in it.

She had to learn to live without those pieces of her desires. She lived without herself for so long... 

Lucy couldn't even fanthom where to begin now. And that.... is why she laid down on the hard wooden floor of the Jack's old bedroom and cried. 

Alone. All alone. And crying. With nothing. Nothing to show for who she was.... or who she allowed herself to become.

**************************************

"I'm so sorry, Jack. I had no idea David would react like that." Wayne said. Jack bit his lip. Looking down towards the floor, he jolted himself back into Wayne's eyes. "I truly am." Thinking for a moment, Jack realized Wayne was a good man. He was an honest man, and Jack could respect that. 

Sticking his hand out, Wayne shook it. "It's alright." Jack was simple in what was said.

Not mentioning how Jack decided that last month, an apartment in the heart of Manhatten seemed more fitting. More easily able to disappear into the gush of New yorkers, where nobody knew your business- and no one cared about it either. Jack would never tell how he gave Mr. Richardson a lemon meringue pie- his favorite- as a thank you. Or how, he surprised Emily with fresh baked brownies from his oven and a gentle peck on her cheek for graditude. "Oh, thank you Jack.... these are lovely!" Emily couldn't contain the blush color her cheeks became the minute Jack even appeared at her front door. Her smile so big, even her teeth stretched themselves wider.

Packing Simba away in a box, Jack took him and their furniture to their new Manhatten place where the living was twice the size of his old place and he was given two bedrooms- one for him, one as his office- a bathroom and a terrace. Simba was negoiated extra ten dollars, but Jack didn't mind. The tavern he worked at caught fire after some drunk threw a flamming vodka bottle through the window one night.

So, Jack took the job as a stage prop manager with a theater. The most intellectual plays took place there and being centerfield of the Manhatten arts, Jack snagged the job faster than they could ask. He worked nights- where most of the shows took place anyway.

As Jack settled into his last year of college, he held his breath. Cramming in study after study- he hoped it would be enough for what he learned over those three years. He just hoped as finals just around the corner.

***********************************

A perfect score. Jack passed the finals with one of the highest scores in the class. Graduating with honors, Jack couldn't contain his smile as he crossed the stage reaching for his diploma. Glancing out towards the auidence, Jack swore he spotted a face. A familiar face in the crowd of his mother's frame and his father's scowl. 

Squinting- with the little time he had- he scanned the crowd very carefully. But nothing. His parents probably didn't even know he was enrolled in the first place. His friends were there; Charles and Andy were clapping over to the sidelines, watching their friend receive his honors with pride.

Pride. A feeling that Jack couldn't shake, even if he was the only one. Even if he had to do this by himself...... and that made it more special. Jack proved something to himself. To everyone that stood along his path- he did it. Jack had dreams, he had ambitions, he had.... strength. 

Jack stood among the crowd, taking one last look into the crowd of claps and cheers before walking off the stage. Seperating himself through the throngs of people, Jack stood highly. He gave himself a pat on the shoulder, a kiss on the cheek, a sweet word of endearment. Jack loved himself enough to say: "I did it!"

And.....he did. Letting in the bright aroma of his future set in, staring his dreams bluntly in the face, Jack had set himself free. Free of pain, of doubts, of hopeless prisons, of heartbreak. 

Jack held his diploma tightly. Getting into his car, and driving off into the city, Jack couldn't shake the smile from his face. He couldn't spit out the lingering taste of freedom from his lungs. 

Jack- like he promised- burned it down and builded it up again. Killing off himself, then resurrecting his new self back. Jack carried his passion. He ran with it, and would keep running until he never had to run again. He wouldn't have to find it in the face of a stranger. He wouldn't have to go far. Jack wouldn't have to find it in the night or hope for it in the light.

Jack could look inside himself. And it would live there. It would be there.

Just like it always was. And always would be.

[courtingchaos]

Rent The Space Inside My Mind

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: You and Eddie are BFF's. Wonder what's going on between you two?

A/N: This is just a fraction of what I've been chipping away at but I wanted to post this because I was proud of it!!! (NSFW 18+ minors gtfo)

December is fucking cold and that cold loves to seep into the trailer from every leaking door and window. It’s the same at your place, though your mom had remembered to take out the AC units a few weeks ago. Eddie and Wayne have obviously let that slide.

“Hey man do you want me to help you with those?” You gesture to the unit in the window from your spot on the sofa where you’re bundled under a blanket. Eddie is curled up in his uncle’s recliner, with at least three sweatshirts on with his knees pulled up into them.

“It’s 8pm."

“Okay? And then you can shut the windows before it snows tonight and, Wayne won’t freeze out here.” You continue to stare at him until he sighs and untangles himself.

“Fine fine fucking fine.”

You knew bringing Wayne into would get him up so you go outside to help, because you’re sure if Eddie does he’s going to turn into a god-honest icicle. He unlatches everything from inside and you pull both units from outside, leaving them on the front porch to molder until at least April. You only end up with a little gross water in your shoe when you pull the unit out of his bedroom; Eddie ever the sweetheart, has a dry pair of socks for you when you get back inside to ditch your shoes.

“Look I know that was a good idea, and the space heater is working better but now my toes are freezing.” Eddie is whining at you from the spot he’s stolen on the couch. He’s looking at you with big, hopeful eyes while wiggling his toes and you catch his drift.

“Okay fine, you can shove your ice cubes under my leg.” You sigh at him, crowding up next him while he props himself against the arm of the couch, immediately shoving his socked feet under your thigh. You get the blanket re-situated around yourself and over his ankles, laughing at the feeling of his toes wiggling under you.

Now the thing that you haven’t seemed to have caught on to yet is that Eddie has been using the recent freeze to get closer to you. Not only do you run hot like a brand new kerosene heater (and he is absolutely using that to his advantage), he’s also able to use this as an excuse to be as impossibly close to you at any given time. He can’t seem to get enough of you lately and though he’s been aware of his growing feelings for you for quite a while, this new turn has felt…almost fanatical. 

Anytime you breeze past him and he can catch a whiff of your perfume? Absolute goner. 

When you lean over him at lunch and you prop your hand on his knee for balance? It’s all he’s focused on for hours. 

When you lean back on his van in the morning, legs crossed at the ankle, trying to finish your cigarette before first bell? He’s never wanted to be a cigarette more in his life. (He’s not even sure what that means but he means it).

The other day in History, you’d been seated towards the front with Eddie fully planted in his normal back row corner. The room was darkened while your teacher moved through slides on their projector and you…oh you had been running your fingers through your hair, trying to put it up. Fingers combing through your dark locks, pulling everything up high on the crown of your head. You’d been doing it absentmindedly with lazy fingers trawling through loose curls, pulling at a handful of knots. 

It was all he could do to keep his mouth shut, keep his noises to himself. That it should be his hands running through your hair, his hands gently pulling out tangles, his hands collecting your hair together in his fist, pulling it all back away from your face, letting him see your smirk before you open your mouth for him, small metal ball that sat so perfect on your tongue glinting in the low light of his bedroom.

He had to reel his imagination in so fast it felt like it physically snapped him. He would rather die than pop a boner in fucking History class like a freshman.

So! Toes under a thigh. A thigh he’d spent many a night thinking about. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever felt this thigh before, in fact he’d grabbed it many times either giving you a piggyback ride or in some pit at some show or one of the million times you two roughhoused. It’s just that now that thigh, and its twin, had brought new meaning in his life. It was warm, so god damn warm and he loved the feel of it under his hand. It was soft and powerful and if he could lay his head in your lap again he swears he’d never leave it this time. He’s tempted to do it right now, just roll over and nuzzle up to you. He knows you’d giggle and probably lay your hand on his hair and muss it up and throw the blanket over him because he’s just always so cold. Maybe he could sneak his finger tips under your thigh, wiggle them around like his toes. 

Basically feeling her up at that point way to go idiot. 

He gives himself a shake to try to get his thoughts back on the TV and firmly away from your thighs and how warm they’d feel on his ears probably. 

Get it together you fuck.

~

You’re unknowingly also drifting on your side of the couch, thinking about reaching over and grabbing his face and kissing him stupid but the idea of him firmly pushing you back with that sad look he gets sometimes would actually kill you. At least you think he might do that but then you remember the phone call from a few weeks ago, him drunkenly whispering into the phone about you hating him if he told you…something. He wouldn’t say what but he did keep saying your name over and over like it was keeping him grounded. 

Or from throwing up, same difference. 

Honestly, you think he might even be fine with a kiss, a make out marathon let’s be real. He’d been extra close lately, more so than normal, and so much more gentle with you than he’d ever been. 

You know for a fact that he’d struck out with Gwen, his current cheerleader-looking-for-weed. She’d been nice enough about it but you could tell he’d actually tried with this one, not just using one of his normal quick-cute one liners. He’d told you about actually turning on his charm, being sweet and all it got him was a giggle and soft ‘Oh, Eddie no I’m sorry.’

Would you be okay with a pity fuck? Absolutely! You lie to yourself. 

The remote has fallen out of your hand while you’re staring through the TV screen, really mulling over your choices here. You start thinking about your most recent mornings at school, with the cold biting through everyone, especially Eddie wearing his fucking ripped jeans when it’s 20 outside. How it’s not out of the ordinary for you to hold his hands together to warm them up, or give him your already worn gloves. Sometimes he’ll shove his hands in the pockets of your second hand peacoat without preamble. You’ll never tell him (hell you barely admit to yourself) but it makes you blush deep down, all the way to your chest when he does that. The feel of his fingers wiggling around deep in the pockets near your hips while he talks over your shoulder to Gareth. The front of him close to you but just barely not touching and it takes everything in you to not reach out and grab the lapels of his vest, dig your fingers into the denim and leather under that and pull him in close.

He’ll laugh at something Jeff said and his breath, hot in the cold morning frost, ghosts over the shell of your ear and it should be considered an Act of God that you don’t lean forward and bury your face in his long neck. His hair would tickle your too cold nose but like, it’d be so god damn soft you know it. You’ve touched his hair before so many times but not like that. Not nuzzled into his throat where you could kiss up to the back of his ear, could run the bar in your tongue against his skin. You wonder what kind of noises he’d make, out in the cold, in front of god and everybody.

Eddie pinches the underside of your thigh with his toes and it snaps you back to the present.

“Earth to Major Tom.” He’s grinning at you with a playful gleam in his eyes. He’s obviously been trying to get your attention for a hot minute.

“What?” Why do you sound so annoyed?

“Got something on your mind?”

"I’m thinking.” You lie (only a little) pulling your legs up to tuck under his bent knees, keeping his toes under your leg still.

“Something more important than this?” He gestures at the TV, some PBS thing on. 

Oh my god Munson believe me it is. 

You both chuckle and you start flicking through channels again, now looking for a Christmas thing. If you both start drifting again, neither of you mention it, unaware of the absolute bonfire starting between you two.

[bigmsaxon]

Hello, how are doing?

I was curious on what was your first introduction into cyberpunk and fantasy?

Hi! I'm doing alright thanks.

It feels like I've been around fantasy stuff my whole life so its hard to pinpoint an exact point of entry, but when I think of my earliest fantasy memories I think of: Labyrinth, Willow, Neverending Story, Golden Axe, Gauntlet, Betrayal at Krondor, He-Man and Pirates of Dark Water.

My first exposure to cyberpunk on the other hand I can be more precise: my brother and I saw a trailer for the Blade Runner adventure game on a demo disc and asked our mum if we could get it. She was a big fan of the movie so she rented it (the theatrical cut no less) for us to watch before we got the game. That was my introduction to cyberpunk, though I didn't know what that was at the time - it wasn't until around university that I really started to develop a love for it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I move into my own apartment for an internship instead of with friends like I initially said I (more likely than not) would for a while?

CW: kinda long but I don’t think I can put a readmore on anon :(

I (20sNB) have an opportunity to do an internship in spring of 2024. My friend (20sF) and her husband (20sM, we’re all within ~3yrs of each other) have been working on renovating a single-wide trailer in a trailer park in the same town as the internship, and it will be done with them living in it for at least a good few months before my internship. I’ve helped them with renovations whenever I’m in town and they’ve promised/shown me the room they’re reserving to be my space because they’re so sure I’ll move in with them.

I’ll be honest, I was planning to at first. But that changed with a variety of factors contributing, including but not limited to:

The trailer was reportedly full of black mold. Abandoned dressers would be opened and a puff of mold dust would emerge from the doors. It was also previously a hoarder’s house possibly due to the amount of junk in and around the trailer. Nobody wore PPE during renovations as far as I’m aware, and seem to believe they’re “in the clear” as they’ve shown no side effects yet. They’ve literally kept up only exactly what’s required to legally say they’re ‘renovating’ instead of tearing everything down and reusing the foundation, but it’s still a concern for me due to the casual way it was brought up and addressed.

My friends admitted that the neighbors don’t like them much due to the loud noises day in and day out from the renovation, resulting in the cops being called on them several times as a noise complaint. I have a rough time as it is being close to strangers, and that anxiety/paranoia? isn’t alleviated by hearing that and seeing people come out of their own trailers to glare at us whenever we work on the property.

My cat (20F) would be moving in with me. She’s indoor-only, but cats are bound to run around at some point. There are numerous unvaccinated and unfixed strays in the park and I’m concerned for her health; she’s having a hard enough time just keeping down food, a virus or infection would make me put her down.

My friends own a Pomeranian that does not respect other animals and continuously harasses them by barking and chasing after them. My cat does NOT like dogs, and my repeated warnings that having them in the same room would result in the dog getting blinded and possibly even more severely injured have been waved away with “The dog will learn soon enough to leave her alone!”. I would also have two relatively small lizards with me, both of whom leave their terrariums regularly for general holding sessions and to run around while I clean their tanks. There is a nonzero chance of them being beyond the safety of the glass and the dog eating them as the dog has a high prey drive.

Being with them would save me and my parents MASSIVE amount of money as rent is nearly nonexistent with how low it is in the park; I would mostly help with other bills (such as water, electricity, groceries) and general housemate things like cleaning up after myself and helping cook or chip in for takeout every now and then. Both friends know how restricted my ability to really develop is in my house due to my family (such as not knowing how to make anything more complicated than air fryer food) and have expressed that they are eager to help me learn and watch me grow into who I am.

But for a while I’ve been very strongly leaning towards an apartment instead despite rent being crazy (my parents are willing to pay half but with 0 guarantee of a paid internship and uncertainty as to whether I can hold a part-time job at the same time it would still be a blow to my savings). It’s gotten to the point where my language is full of “My future apartment will have….” “When I move into an apartment do you think I should….” when discussing the matter with my parents with zero verbal room for considering living with my friends. Advantages to the apartment include having my own space, being much closer to my internship location (though my friends weren’t all that far out themselves), and no concerns about my pets being around strangers or other animals. My parents and grandma agree that an apartment sounds the safest for my pets’ physical health and my mental health.

However, I have yet to tell my friends. The F is a friend of a decade now, and the M and I aren’t exactly close but regard each other as siblings. While she might be hurt but understanding, I don’t know if I want to risk him or both of them blowing up on me for my decision after at least 6mo of helping here and there and encouraging them to finish renovating their own place. The closest I’ve gotten to saying anything is warning them that it isn’t guaranteed I’ll move in with them when they use language suggesting it is and that I’m trying to keep my mind open to all housing options, including renting a space in a family friend’s basement. Neither of them seem to have caught on to what I’m doing, though. So, WIBTA if I finally break it to them that I’ve decided on an apartment and move into a space without them? This might seem like a non-issue to outsiders but it very much is to me :(

(For slight additional context: my friend is typically very understanding and we do our best to communicate our feelings about joint activities especially. Her husband is the type of guy to get mad at the ‘politics’ of the new Barbie movie and the joke made out of the Kens.)

What are these acronyms?