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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 1

Summary: It’s a year since Ransom was murdered, and you’re settling well into your new life in Boulder. It hasn’t just provided you with a fresh start-it’s brought you a new sense and purpose, an appreciation for the things you took fore grated, and the friendship of a former ADA…

Warnings: Bad Language, allusions to past abuse (Non Con/Dub Con) but nothing explicitly described in this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/N- So, here it is! The sequel to Murder, He Wrote . This is the last time I’ll post this note, however, please be aware that the prequel is a Dark series. Whilst this is not, it will contain flashbacks and themes as we progress, however nothing will be as dark as MHW. Chapters will be clearly labelled with appropriate warnings. If anyone is uncomfortable with the themes of a certain chapter, I will be more than happy to post/provide abridged versions which will not deviate from the storyline.

Sunrise. You used to hate the coming of each day. It meant another monotonous day in your young adult life. A 'depends on the day' type of job at the paper in which you got your start, it meant earning little for the slave work you put into each piece or research. It meant another day you'd woken up in fear, not knowing what was coming next. Then, for a little while, sunrises were okay. They were a soft glow across the room, illuminating hard lines and soft curves, whispering words and lingering kisses. And then, they became fearful again, bringing the unpredictable nature of a life in which you were trapped.

But now, over the last few months, since taking up your new hobby, sunrise had become a beautiful thing. The feeling of peace and comfort washing over you like a warm rain, bringing the redeeming nature of a new day as vibrant watercolours paint the new-born sky. Whether you caught it from the East side of your condo; your master balcony and study or your garden, or even your hikes, you appreciated every, single sunrise as if you were seeing it for the first time ever, each and every day.

For this morning's sunrise, you were perched along Boulder Creek Path, a trail that runs from the foothills to across town, a typical recreational getaway for many locals and tourists. You looked out over the bridge as the creek flowed beneath your feet. You were lost in the serenity of it, the bubbling water lulling your mind into a deep mediation that washed peacefulness through your entire body.

A year ago today, your life changed and you were freed. Free of the nightmare that had plagued you, robbing you of nearly a year of your life. The months that followed weren't so easy, but once things settled and the fires were extinguished, you found peace.

You found you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you back from your reverie, pressing your thumb onto the screen to unlock it. You opened your messages tab and tapped the most recent incoming text.

A smile flicked on your face as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. It didn’t escape your knowledge how Andy didn’t need to even ask what coffee you wanted. But then again, this wasn’t the first time you’d had breakfast in the small, independent coffee place not far from your home and place of work. You knew when you arrived that a large caramel vanilla latte, with an extra shot would be waiting. But no food, your order varied depending on your mood.

Twenty minutes or so later, you parked your sting-grey Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT 4x4 back in your garage to your condo at the corner of 9th and Pine Street and set off on the short ten minute walk to your designated meeting place, centred near the town square, not far from your office which was a gorgeous old red-brick building on the corner of 16th and Walnut Street.

As you approached, you didn’t spot Andy’s black Audi TT in any of the spaces littered around but it didn’t bother you. Barber was reliable, if he said he was going to be there, he’d be there.

And sure enough, as you walked along the side of the cafe you, spotted him at your usual, preferred table by the large window, overlooking the street. He saw you approaching and smiled, giving a small wave.

The smell of roast coffee beans, baked treats and other delicious aromas hit your senses as you opened the door. You approached the table and Andy stood up to great you, smiling. A light grey tee sat exposed under a partially zipped up light weight blue leathered hoodie whilst dark and crisp denim covered his narrow hips and long legs, his go to well-worn black work boots on his feet. His hair was styled and soft looking, his beard always trimmed and neat. He gave you a strong, yet gentle hug, a juxtaposition he managed effortlessly before he turned and waited for you to sit first before he took up his previous seat, nodding to your waiting drink.

“Thank you.” You beamed at him, taking a quick sip. "Of course." He smiled as he took a drink of his own coffee, straight black, before he leaned back a little. His left arm rested over the back of the booth bench, the platinum of his wedding ring catching the early morning sun which streamed through the window. You momentarily glanced at your own hand, bare of the heavy rings which had been taken in the ‘mugging’. Mind you, you wouldn’t be wearing them even if you still had them. Your story was a lot different to his.

“So, where'd you go this morning?" his soft baritone drifted across the table and you glanced back at him. "Fiddled around down Boulder Creek Path." "You seem to be getting around better now." "Yeah, thank God for GPS. Did I tell you that last week I was looking for some store Amber vaguely told me where about it was and ending up like thirty minutes down the highway towards Denver." He laughed, his whole body smiling, radiating genuine amusement. "You have more faith in GPS than me, when I first moved here I got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one way street because it told me to.” You grinned as he shook his head. "And that annoying voice! I want to wring her damn neck." You gave a chuckle but before you could reply, the middle-aged woman, who owned the café, interrupted you both with her usual familiar greeting and the smile she reserved for Andy. “Hey Patti, how are ya?” He smiled back. “Same old, same old.” She winked back. “What can I get you kids today?” “Y/N?” Andy looked at you and you smiled. “Can I get an almond croissant and a granola pot, please? With the blueberry compote.” “Sure honey, and for you Mr Barber?”

“French toast please, all the trimmings.”

A fizzing filled your ears as you were suddenly back on a clinically clean, modern kitchen, nervously scouring a fridge and cupboards for something to make your captor breakfast with. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, counting backwards from five as you always did to keep the memory from swallowing you.

“Hey,” a gentle touch to your hand jolted you back and you looked at Andy who frowned. “You okay?” "Yeah, no, I mean yes, I'm okay. It just…it dawned me this morning that this was the best thing I could have done for myself. Like there's just a newfound peace that's settled with me, you know?" He just smiled as he squeezed your hand before slipping his away. “Yeah, I do.” No more was said about it, and Andy didn’t press. He never did. In the eight weeks or so that had passed since you’d met him that Friday evening in the bar, the pair of you had struck up a friendship that was based on a mutual understanding. You both carried a heavy burden of a traumatic past on your shoulders, but you had an unspoken rule. He had never mentioned Ransom. And you, in turn, never broached the subject of Laurie or Jacob. You understood you were both moving on with your life, both wanting to heal from the past and you wanted to spend the rest of your life never in fear again. Instead, a simple chatter always flowed between the two of you, and today was no exception. You barely stopped to thank Patti for dropping your order off at the table. Current work was never a topic of conversation, although office gossip featured on occasion, but mostly it was always about happenings around town, him asking about you, your parents and your old job, the two of you talking about your favourite places in Boston. You never missed certain facial and eye cues Andy gave off at the mention of certain things, but when you saw them, that sag in his smile or the far off look his eyes would give, you'd change the subject. You ate in comfortable companionship and after another coffee, Andy asked for the bill and then pulled out his card to pay. "Next one is on me, you paid for the last two and coffee all this week." You gave him a stern look as you headed towards the exit. “Well, if you wanted you could grab us a beer later.” He shrugged, pulling the door handle to open it, allowing you to step out before him. “I gotta nip into the office for a coupla hours but...” "Breakfast AND drinks?" You smiled as he fell into step beside you. The July day was starting to warm a little now, the slight chill of the early morning all but gone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually like hanging out with me." “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I just find you slightly less irritating than everything and everyone else.” He teased and you laughed. “So... Happy hour?" "Yeah." You nodded “It's a date." Andy confirmed and you quirked your eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as he realised what he had said. “A date?” “Well, I don’t mean a date date but...” You felt the heat in your neck a little, so to save your embarrassment and his blushes, you smiled, "it's a date-not-date. Say Oskar’s, 6:30?" "Oskar’s." He confirmed. "I'll save you a tall, cold one." “You’re an angel, you know that?” "I wouldn't go that far. My halo is held up by horns” “Even Prometheus was an angel at some point, Y/N.” He replied as you reached the corner of the street where you would part. Him towards the office, you back home. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I'll see you tonight." At that he gave you another quick hug, his hand rubbing your back over the top of your light jacket before you headed your separate ways.

You enjoyed the walk home. It gave you the perfect chance to just mellow out and walk off a bit of your breakfast. You tucked your hands into the pockets for your vest, your white thermal keeping your arms covered. You headed down Pearl Street, watching as the little shops and boutiques began to set up their patios and side walk spaces for their Saturday. You took in the clean fresh mountain air deep into your lungs and allowed a warm smile to cross your lips.

From Pearl to 9th you went, hooking a right up 9th until you walked to the corner of Pine, and onto the porch of the nice and spacious condo you closed escrow on just weeks ago.

That deep feeling of home greeted you as you stepped inside, wiping your boots on your door mat just before kicking them off and setting them by the back door you’d come through. The cream walls invited you in, the oak furniture and fixtures, a feature that reminded you of home, the decor you grew up with, a safe place.

You'd bought the condo outright with the money you'd inherited from Ransom's untimely death and subsequent estate. You knew before you'd even stepped foot into the property initially, that it'd become yours. The week you closed escrow, you and your parents moved you into the three bedroom, three and a half bath condo, never looking back.

The open floor plan and panoramic views had stolen your breath and it was then, the first night your parents had left you alone, too anxious to sleep alone, you had fallen in love with the sunrise, seeing it from your front garden patio, bundled up with tea and a wool blanket. All three rooms in the space had no adjoining walls and their own en-suites. The master bedroom, your room, was massive. An en-suite with walk in shower, soaking tub and Jack and Jill sinks. Two walk in closets that you knew you'd probably never fill completely, an Eastwardly view and balcony. The two spare rooms, were separated, one on the second floor down the hall from yours where it's balcony looked West, as it were above the garage and the third on the top and final floor with its own balcony. That was your office space, a spot for you to work and to breathe in the fresh air.

Everything in that condo was yours, down to the logs you'd put in your fireplace and the silly little amenities you'd given yourself from knickknacks to the colour of your dishes. There was one space however you left untouched. And only your parents had been inside to pack away your unused things as storage space. That room was your basement. You didn't need to go down there, you figured if you needed something from there, you'd go buy it anyway. All that was truly stored down there anyway were things from your childhood your mother insisted on you bringing along.

As if her ears were burning, your phone buzzed from your back pocket, revealing your mother calling.

"Hey, Mom." You answered.

"Hi, honey. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Check in on you." You could hear the worry in her voice and you couldn't help but smile.

"I'm really good, Mom. It’s been good here." "You still hiking every day?" She sounded hopeful now. "Lately it's just been on the weekends. I've been really busy at work, which isn't exactly a bad thing either." You had made your way to your room, looking for some lounge pants to change into while you continued your conversation. "Well, busy is a blessing. Do you have anything planned for today or...." "Uh, well I just had breakfast with a friend from work who I'm also meeting for drinks later." You smirked at the thought. There was a joyful sigh that poured into your ear from the ear piece, "Oh, this friend wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious Andy you’ve name dropped the last few calls would it?" You hesitated, "y..ye...yeah." Then you heard the tell-tale sound of your mother's chuckle. “We’re just friends.” "I'm not saying anything." You could picture her with her hands held up in defence. "You sound happy." “I am. I feel okay, more than okay even. I’m good.” "Alright. Well, don’t waste your day. Enjoy it. Your dad and I will talk soon." “Yeah, listen Mom, why don’t you come over for a few days in a couple of weeks? You’ve not been since the week you came to help me move in. It would be nice to show you round now I’ve got my bearings.” "We would love that. I'll have your father look at booking some time." “Okay just let me know. Tell Daddy I said hi.” "I will, sweetie. Love you, bye.” "I love you too, Mom, bye." The seventeenth of July, a date that you hope one day will come to mean nothing and be like any other day. But for now, it was a sting that reminded you of all that had happened. Not unlike Halloween, a day in which you'll forever hold in a fearful anxious place in your soul. It served as a reminder of the moment your life had taken a very dark turn, a darkness that you were still, in a lot of ways, finding your way through. Ransom. His name still tasted sour on your tongue. But left a sadness over your heart like a sheer curtain. You had truly hoped he wasn't going to revert back to the beast that held you captive. But you were wrong, and post the revelation of the real reason he had taken you, he’d been far more brutal and cruel than he had with you before, something you’d thought was impossible. And he’d broken you for a second time, or so you’d let him think. Desperate to escape his clutches, you’d done the only thing you could- you’d killed him. Whilst you may not have held the knife, you’d arranged it all. And, even though it had been an absolute last resort, you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a satisfaction to watching him bleed out and choke on his own blood. The realisation that had clouded his arrogantly handsome features as he came to understand it was your doing would be forever etched into your brain. That said, it made you feel a little bit queasy when you thought about how taking someone’s life could make you feel a sick sense of pleasure. The nightmares had plagued you for months after. The torture which sleep brought you only ceased around the time things were settled within the system between you and his parents. With a deep sigh and the need for distraction, you set about some spot cleaning in between loads of laundry and by early afternoon you had settled in on your couch with a beer and your latest box set binge. Not two episodes in and your phone pinged next to you.

With a smirk, you snapped a photo of your beer bottle in your hand and a few moments later his response came through.

The angel made you laugh, a direct reference to his teasing before. But before you could reply, you got another text with simply saying “fuck it” along with a picture of a tumblr of whiskey on his desk. With a snort you replied

With a smile you tossed your phone down onto the seat beside you, and resumed your watching.

***** Andy was kidding when he playfully said he'd be there by 6:45, fully intending on their agreed upon 6:30. But, he was late. He'd been so involved with his brief that he'd lost track, and for the first time since meeting her, was late for a meet up with Y/N. She was fully understanding as he'd text her apologizing for the time as he'd rushed out of the office and quickly headed for Pearl Street. He'd gotten very lucky with close parking and literally stepped inside Oskar's Taproom promptly at 6:45. He found Y/N sitting at the bar, her hair down, a nicely fitted black tee and skinny denim jeans, her foot tapping against her bar stool in waiting. Next to her was an empty stool and a full, cold looking tall pilsner on the bar, saving his space.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into her, a gentle hand on her back, getting her attention.

Y/N startled a bit but realized it was Andy and grinned, "'bout time! I was going to get started on yours without you." She nodded to the cold beer. “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, “I just got caught up.” "Well, you haven't stood me up yet, so I trusted you'd show." “And I did tell you 6:45 before. You know, on account of you being a cheeky little shit.” She rolled her eyes at him, "whatever." She smirked. He slid onto the stool next to her and took a long pull of his beer, damned it tasted good. He gave an appreciative sigh and turned to her. “So, do anything much this afternoon?” "I did absolutely nothing, well nothing of importance. Talked to my mom, did laundry, you know nothing exciting." “To be honest, sounds like a pretty good afternoon.” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than laying in front of the TV with no where you have to be.” "Cheers to that," she raised her glass to him. He clinked his with hers and returned the smile she had. The blues band that was set to play happy hour was starting to tune up and it gave Andy an idea. "What do you say we find a spot in the patio, little less noise." “Sounds good.” She nodded. Andy flagged the bartender down for another round to take with them. But before Y/N could pick up her glass, Andy took it for her and gestured with her head for her to go on in front. She looked a little surprised at his act of basic good manners, and not for the first time. He'd often seen her look at him in a similar way when he held doors open for her or helped her with her jacket. It made him wonder what kind of asshole Drysdale had been. But, then again, he got the impression it hadn’t been a particularly happy relationship to start. Not that it was any of his business, nor was he one to talk. The last seven months he’d been married to Laurie had been as strained as they'd ever got. They found a spot at a two top near the corner of the patio at the gate that separated it from the sidewalk. Andy waited for Y/N to sit before he set their glasses on the high top table and took his own seat. "So...much better," he leaned in across the table. "Love this place, but it's not always the best for conversation." “Yeah but it has a good atmosphere.” She smiled. “I like it. Not the type of place that-“ she stopped dead and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter.” He half smiled, "you know, I've been meaning to tell you, it's okay to talk to me about anything you want. No pressure, no strings. Just a friendly ear." She smiled. “I know, thanks. And the same goes for you too.” For the first time, an interesting silence came between them. They each sipped their drinks in an almost a mirrored like fashion and chuckled when through. "I think that's the first time we've ever not had something to say." Y/N shrugged. He nodded, and then she took a deep breath. “I was just gonna say its not the type of place Ransom would ever have taken me. He’d have thought it beneath him.” "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned his name." He pointed out. "Yeah, I try not to. It's uh," he watched her as she struggled to start her story, playing nervously with the earring in her ear. "Complicated." He leaned on the table, his forearms crossed and supporting his weight. He wanted her to know she had his full attention. “Well, from what I know about him, which granted is only what I saw on the news or heard around Boston, he certainly enjoyed the finer things in life.” "That's one way of looking at." She chuckled dryly. "It wasn't an easy marriage, despite how short lived." "Well, I was with Laurie since law school and we still had our ups and downs. I don't think marriage is easy in general." Andy admitted. "I was with Ransom less than nine months before we got married. It, uh, lasted three weeks."

Andy paused, “okay, so granted Laurie and I were a whirlwind what with her falling pregnant so fast but... I’ll give you that one.” “A whirlwind?” She asked and Andy nodded. “Yeah, we hadn’t even been together a year when she got pregnant with Jake. Not gonna lie, I shit myself but...” he sighed, swallowing. “Well, he was worth it.” "I'm sure he was." She nodded. Andy cleared his throat. “He was a good kid, despite what he, well what he was accused of.” “I can’t even begin to imagine how that felt, for any of you.” She said gently. “Fucking shit.” He said bluntly. She blinked and then the pair of them laughed quietly. "I'm sorry, Andy. And I mean that in all sincerity." He sighed and gave a soft little smile. “Thanks. You know, for the most part it’s just happy memories. But then sometimes it’s hard...” he trailed off shaking his head, “but of course you’ll know that.” “Suppose so.” She shrugged. “I doubt our marriage was anything near as loving as yours. I, uh...well, Ransom was mentally abusive, very controlling. Getting married wasn't exactly what I'd wanted but, I felt trapped in a way." She paused as he listened intently. "I guess it's harder to explain than I thought." She bit her lip and then shook her head. “Then the asshole went and got himself killed.” "I hate that you had to witness that." She shrugged and her finger swiped at the condensation on the outside of her half empty beer glass. “It was a year ago today.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy shook his head in shock as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” She sighed. “And I know that probably sounds awful but... I don’t mourn him, I can’t. Not after everything. I’m just glad to be away and out of it. Fuck, that makes me sound like a really cold hearted bitch.” She scrunched her nose and chuckled a bit. Andy cocked his head to one side, studying her face which was, despite what she said, laced with sadness and he took a deep breath. There was more to her story than she was telling him, he could see that, but he had his own secrets too. And he found himself realising he didn’t care. Moving away post the accident that claimed Jake and later Laurie’s life had been a way for him to leave all that shit behind. And she was trying to do the same. “Okay, let’s make a deal.” He leaned forward. “No reverse gear. We look forward and not back, at least not at the hard stuff.” It took a moment for her to process it, and Andy watched her expression behind her eyes as he did so. Then she smiled, "deal." Andy smiled as she reached for her beer. He watched her pretty face as she drained her glass, setting it down in the table before she leaned towards him. “Have you eaten? Because I’ve suddenly got a hankering for something greasy and very bad for me.” “Sounds like someone I used to work with.” Andy shot before he could stop himself and Y/N threw her head back in a loud laugh. “Lawyers for you.” “Hey, not all of us are jerks.” He pouted and she shrugged. “Jury’s out.” She winked. At that Andy raised his brows, downed the rest of his pint and then stood up. “Something dirty and greasy that isn’t an attorney coming up, I’ll grab us a menu.” They each ordered a greasy, filthy cheeseburger with all the fixings and two smaller beers a piece to go with it. They moved their conversation away from their pasts and talked music as the band played some songs they were familiar with. Y/N finding the perfect moment to joke with Andy again about his age versus hers, despite it being maybe seven or eight years. Neither seemed to mind. Again, when the bill came, Andy slapped his card down before Y/N even had a chance to grab her wallet, which caused him to laugh loudly at her pout. “You’ll just have to get it next time.” “Oh," she smirked, "so that’s your game? You paid, so I owe you a next time?” He shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She bit her lip and grinned with a shake of her head. “No, not really.” “Good, I’ll hold you to that. And, as a lawyer I feel obliged to tell you that’s a legally recognised verbal contract.” “Uh, I’m sure there’s a rule that a social agreement made between friends is done so without an intention of being enforceable.” Y/N shot back and Andy felt his mouth curl up on a little surprised smirk. “Therefore no intent, no legal comeback. Your move, Counselor.” He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I got nothing.” “In that case, I call recess.” She grinned. “Oh faahk off with the legal puns!” Andy snorted and once more she laughed as they stood up, their night at an end. He walked behind Y/N with a gentle hand on her back as she weaved through the tables on the patio, eventually ending up on the sidewalk out front.

"Thanks, for breakfast, dinner, drinks," Y/N shook her head, feigning annoyance. Andy smirked, "thanks for meeting me. You're not walking home are you?" "I can, it's not far." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely not, I'll take you," he nodded his head in the direction in which his car was. He gave a small wink when she accepted his offer. He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his Audi TT. You quickly realized that this was the first time you'd been in his car and the very first time he would see your doorstep. However, the thought of both those things didn't bother you one bit. In fact, you found yourself more comfortable than you'd expected.

All in all the drive was no more than five minutes, and if he hadn’t been going that way already, you’d have felt like a complete fraud, but he assured you it was on his way.

You helped yourself out but Andy waited for you around the front hood and walked you to your doorstep, lit by the lantern porch light your Home Owners Association contract insisted be up. "So, this is me," you sighed. Andy had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked a little on his heels as he waited for you to open your front door. When you'd opened it, he scratched behind his neck and said, "so I'll see you Monday?" "Yeah," you agreed. He turned to go but you called out to him, "Hey, Andy?" He quickly turned back to you, his one foot on your stoop, the other the next step down, "yeah?" In a sudden moment of courage, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. His smooth cheek and the slightly rough yet softer than anticipated scratch of those dark whiskers, intermittent speckled with auburn, felt amazing against your lips. And fuck, did he smell amazing. Which you knew already from the tight and friendly hugs he'd seemed to start giving you. The first hit of his aftershave was always the same, dominated by a white-out of bergamot and pepper, a bright flash of sweet, dewy citrus that is both crisp and clean, underpinned by a freshness that was both light and gentle and completely different to the heavy sandalwood based fragrance you’d grown so used to. It was brief, but when you pulled back, you gave a content huff, “Huh.” “What?” He was clearly puzzled. “Your beard. It’s kinda soft.” “What? What the hell did you expect?” He laughed. “I dunno, maybe a toilet brush type bristle.” “You kiss a lot of toilet brushes Y/N?” “Try not to.” She winked. “Thanks again, Andy. I enjoyed today.” He chuckled and shook his head as he watched you turn back to your door and finally stepped inside your home. Before you closed the door, you turned back, noticing he was watching you go in. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

**** Chapter 2

#consciousness of guilt #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters #reader insert

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captain-jensen · 4 years

Text

Let’s Enjoy Tonight

Chris Evans x Reader

Request: Can I request a Chris Evans imagine where he is in love with Robert Downey Jr's daughter and is at a party at Robert's and talks to her on the balcony about her family and about her dad and eventually reveals how he feels??? Thanks 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💗

Warnings: Age gap

Authors note: This takes place a couple of years ago to fit the scenario. I know it’s short but I’m a sucker for happy cliffhanger endings.

Tonight is a big deal. Your father was throwing a huge wrap party for the cast and crew of the last Avengers movie. You aren’t nervous in the slightest though, even given the scale of the party. For the last few months of filming you’ve been hanging out with your dad on set so you’ve gotten to know the rest of the cast really well. Not that you didn’t know them before hand, you’ve known them for years. This year was different though, you’re 22 this time around which means you have been hanging out with the Avengers like an adult, often getting invited to their karaoke nights. So to say you were excited for tonight would be an understatement. Excited in particular to see one original Avenger. Over the past few months you and Chris have become particularly close. It started with you guys pairing up for karaoke, then you guys starting eating lunch together on set, and when it came to the parties he or one of the other cast members threw you guys always stuck close together. You guys have become VERY close friends. Too close as some (like your dad) would say. Whenever you guys were in the same room you were always giggling together, making excuses to be as close as possible, whispering to each other, and often can be caught staring at one another across the room. Neither of you have made a move yet though, given a couple of obstacles. Obstacle number 1; Age, Chris is 37 years old, that’s 15 years older than you. Which doesn’t bother YOU but it does bring up the topic of obstacle number 2; Your dad. Your father is none other than the godfather of Marvel himself Robert Downey Jr. Now your dad is chill and understanding sure, but its hard to predict how he would react to the possible relationship between his daughter and one of his very close friends. Your dad however, was not a stupid man. He can see that there’s something between you and Chris, but he might be choosing to ignore it until it gets out of hand. You’re hoping that tonight is the night things get out of hand.

There is only about an hour left before people start to show up to your dads rented condo. You’re wearing a simple red dress that hugs your figure just right. Hopefully Chris will love it. “Y/N sweetie are you almost ready?” you hear your fathers voice outside the door.

“I’m done, come in dad” You see the door creak open slowly and then your dads head pops out from behind it.

“Sweetheart you look beautiful. A little intense though for the wrap party isn’t it? I mean that’s a lot of shoulder, are you trying to impress someone?” He asks only half joking.

“Oh my god dad, I’m just trying to fit in with the Hollywood crew” you retort. Putting to use the wit your father passed down.

“Well I’m relieved to hear that” He said. Even though he fully knew what your plan was, he was happy to not hear it come out of your mouth. “Well people are going to be showing up soon so lets go eat” and with that he walks out of your room to go snack on some hors d’oeuvres.

A knock at the door of the condo startles you and you jump up to accompany your dad at the door, welcoming the first guest of the evening. To your dismay however, it was just Gwyneth and her husband. After about an hour and several guest arrivals later, you finally hear his upbeat and loud voice through the music. You look towards the door and see Chris hugging your dad at the door. You coolly make your way to the door while trying to keep your excitement in your chest. As soon as your in Chris’ eyeline he can’t take his eyes off of you (your dad recognizes this). As you approach your father and who you hope will become your daddy, you put on your prize winning smile and pull Chris in for a hug. “I’m glad you came tonight” you say softly into his ear.

“You know I would never miss a good party” he responds, pulling away from the hug after feeling a pair of suspecting eyes on him. Chris could never let it be known by anyone how much he liked you. He couldn’t do that to his friend. He also couldn’t help it. You were magnetic. Whenever you were around, Chris felt like the happiest guy around. He could never take his smile off of his face, and the same applied to you. After you guys separate your dads attention gets pulled elsewhere. “You look...really amazing Y/N” Chris says quietly to you.

“Thanks, you do too Chris” you shoot him a wink and a sly smile. “Lets go get a drink” You say, already ushering him to the makeshift bar where a very skilled mixologist was slinging drinks left and right. You both order a drink and decide to sit at the bar. “So how does it feel knowing you aren’t Captain America anymore?” you ask.

“Honestly? It’s bittersweet. I mean I’m grateful for it but I’m also excited to be able to explore different characters and stories and such” he responds.

“That’s good. Do you have any projects coming up?”

“Yeah I just signed a contract with Apple to do this limited series adaption of a book called ‘Defending Jacob’ I get to play a father in it.” he responds excitedly.

“Chris no way! That’s awesome. I’m so happy for you!” you respond with just as much enthusiasm.

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say” he replies with a soft smile on his face. You’re about to respond but you get interrupted by a hand landing on your shoulder, causing you to turn around.

“There you are, I just got here and wanted to come say hi.” You see a wide grin on Mark Ruffalo’s face. He greets you and Chris, making small talk until he sees Hemsworth and takes his leave.

“Do you wanna go outside?” Chris asks with a raised eyebrow, obviously nervous but eager to be alone with you while you look the way you do.

“Yeah sure. It is a little loud in here” He leads you through the crowd by a strategically placed hand on your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest and you’re sure he can hear it even over the blasting music. You make it outside and there’s a couple small groups of people already on the balcony, but there’s enough space for you two to talk without any interruption.

“So are you going back with your dad to California?” Chris asks once you get situated on one of the couches, knees just touching his.

“I’m really not sure yet. It’s nice living rent free and hanging out with him, but I don’t know if I want to live in Cali, I really like the east coast” you respond.

“Oh like Massachusetts?” he asks in a cheeky voice.

“Well I was thinking more along the lines of New York.” You respond, not knowing that he held real hope in his heart that you wanted to move to Boston with him on a whim. He knew that wouldn’t happen though. There was no way someone your age would want to be with a man his age. He also knew your father would not approve.

“Ah right. That makes sense”

“I’ve always wanted to see Boston though. I’ve never been to Massachusetts” you say.

“Oh really? You know, I’m a pretty good tour guide if you’re ever interested”

“Well I’ll definitely consider that” You fall into a deep silence. The other groups of people had made their way back inside some time ago, leaving you two completely alone for the first time ever. You notice a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead and know that he’s obviously anxious about something. “Are you alright Chris? You seem spooked” You decide to ask, seeing if he wanted to confide in you.

“When you asked me earlier about how I felt not being Captain America anymore it made me realize the fact that I’m not gonna be working with any of those people inside. Not Scarlett, Mark, Chris, or your dad. It just kind of hit me”

“Oh Chris I’m sorry. But you’re still all friends, it’s not like you’ll never see each other again. That’s good. From what I’ve heard, castmates aren’t normally as lucky as you guys are when it comes to your bond” you respond, trying to comfort him.

“Yeah you’re right. I’ve met some of the most amazing people during this time of my life.” He says. “If it wasn’t for Captain America, I wouldn’t have met your dad, therefore I would have never met you. So I’m still grateful.” He looks you deep in your eyes as he says this. He takes you in fully, like he’s trying to memorize your face.

“I’m grateful too” You say. Looking at him just as deeply.

“Y/N, I need to get something off my chest. Because I may see Rob again after this, but I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

“What is it Chris?” You ask with baited breath.

“These past few months that we’ve been spending time together, have been the best moments of my life. I’ve never felt more light and happy with someone. You’re beautiful, intelligent, caring, funny, and so open and in love with life. When I’m with you, I feel like a better person. I know you probably don’t feel the same way, and your dad wouldn’t approve. I just needed you to know” He says softly. He looks up from his lap to check your reaction. Where he’s expecting confusion and maybe even discomfort, he instead finds a warm smile and slightly glossy eyes.

“Chris, I feel the same way. I like you too.”

“So you aren’t uncomfortable with the age thing? What about your dad? Does he know you like me?” He asks in bewilderment at the fact that his feelings are actually reciprocated.

“It doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you. As for my dad, there might be a period of adjustment, but he’ll get over it. He probably suspects already.”

“Y/N. Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Yeah of course”

“Can I... kiss you?” He asks, slowly leaning forward until he’s just centimetres away from you. Without another word, you close the distance, letting your actions speak for you. The kiss is tender but full of longing and ambition. He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, letting his tongue swipe past yours languidly. Feeling out of breath, you break the kiss, even though it nearly kills you to do so. “I needed that” He says sort of sheepishly.

“Me too” You look around quickly to check if there was any witnesses. But you were still alone. So you latch your mouth back onto Chris’ in a much hungrier and desperate kiss. He breaks away quickly though, not wanting anything to get too heated.

“We should talk to your dad before anything else... escalates” He says, it’s then that you notice his slacks clung a bit tighter to his legs.

“Or I can pretend to go to bed but actually go with you to your hotel” You suggest, trying to devise a way to avoid the conversation with your dad. “Then we can just tell him tomorrow”

“Lying is not the best way to do this” He says with a small giggle. “I want to, but I want to make sure Rob won’t put a hit on me if he finds out I helped his daughter lie to him in order to sleep with me” He argues slowly while he lazily tries to fight off your advances.

“Alright, that’s probably smart” You give in and stop trying to kiss him. “So how are we going to do this? Tell him tonight? Or maybe tomorrow at brunch?” You eagerly ask, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible so the two of you can enjoy each other in peace.

“I say we enjoy tonight, plan exactly what we want to say, and do it tomorrow. Then we can spend the next couple of days together in peace” He makes another good point.

“Ok. We should probably get back to the party then. We’ve been out here for a while. People will notice”

“Yeah we should” With that he looks over his shoulder and once he realizes the coast is clear he gives you one last deep kiss that literally takes your breath away. You both clear your throats and stand up. He walks with a more scandalously placed hand on your hip and shoots you a wink and that famous flirty smirk. You walk through the doors and back into the condo. For the rest of the night, even though you try to hide it, you’re both gleaming at each other and constantly sharing small touches. Robert, not being as oblivious as you both thought, tries to think of a nice brunch spot for the inevitable conversation tomorrow. Even though he could confront you both right now, he just stands by. Watching you enjoy your night next to the best man he could wish for for his daughter with a smile on his face as well.

The end

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans imagine #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagines

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tiannas-ocs · 3 years

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Madhu Prasad

gif credit: @dcbrvss

Fandom: X-Men (Movies: X-Men Apocalypse, Dark Phoenix)

Alias: Lollipop

Faceclaim: Maitreyi Ramakrishnan

Age: 15

Nicknames: Mads, Lolli

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Straight???

Occupation: Student

Species: Human Mutant

Affiliation: Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

Abilities: Candy Manipulation (can create lollipops and control preexisting ones), Candy Bombs (can turn lollipops into bombs)

Intro: Madhu Prasad was born in Boston to two candy shop owners who made and sold their own candy. Their store was a popular one in the area, and had even started to gain some national recognition. Her parents hoped their daughter would follow in their footsteps and take over the family business when she was old enough, but it soon became apparent that that wouldn’t be possible.

The first sign of her mutant abilities was noticed when she was 9 and her parents were taking inventory., only to discover that a large number of lollipops had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. They didn’t think much of it, thinking it had been an error on their part, and moved on. Business was good, and they’d completely forgotten about the lollipop situation, until they started flying off the shelves. Literally. There was no one else in the store at the time besides them and their daughter, so the cause was very clear. It was Madhu.

At first they were very scared, knowing all about the problems mutants have caused in the past, but they knew their daughter wasn’t bad. She just didn’t know how to control her powers. That’s where Charles Xavier comes in. The flying lollipop incident had alerted the man of her existence and he stopped by their shop in Boston to offer her a place in his school. It took some convincing, but they accepted and said goodbye to their daughter, telling her to visit often.

She did visit her parents often, except not to their little apartment above their shop in Boston anymore. Now her visits take her to a condo in the Upper East side of Manhattan. The year after she left, her parents got offered a deal to expand their business. Now they have multiple locations all over the United States. They’re also super rich. Mads may have let their newly acquired money go to her head, and often comes off as a bitch because of it; always flaunting her expensive jewelry and designer clothes.

Madhu liked to think she had lots of friends. That’s what happens when you have money and an endless supply of lollipops to give away, right? Wrong. In reality, her powers were probably the only thing most people liked about her. Her snarky and sarcastic attitude caused most people to keep their distance. She didn’t mean to come off as bitchy or mean, she was just proud of her parents’ accomplishments and wanted everyone to see that. Where people saw her bragging, she just saw it as proudly claiming the Prasad name. It wasn’t her fault people are jealous.

#my ocs #madhu prasad #x-men oc

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bostonrealtors · 1 year

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jackierooney · 2 years

Photo

Rooney Real Estate, LLC

Check Out Our New Listing!!! 505 E 3rd Street, Unit 1, South Boston, MA 02127

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years

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Imagine:

Readers long time crush, Erik Stevens, knocks on her door dressed as a pizza delivery stripper and he doesn’t realize he has the wrong address until it’s too late.

I’m telling y’all now this is funny 🤣🤣 I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing while writing this. Erik is Hoe Erik okurrr.

She popped her ass in her kitchen to the Jersey Club Mix playlist she had on loop all day. It was her off day too. Y/N decided to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies for her gifted cookie jar she received for her birthday. It had the words “Scorpio’s Winning” on it. A particular beat had her twirling her spatula in the air, throwing her ass in a circle with her tongue sticking out.

“Aye!!! This my shit! I miss my Jersey fam.”

Chuckling, Y/N adds the chocolate chunks. She was a traveling Chef who was born and raised in Jersey but moved to Annapolis, MD for her college education. Currently, she was living in Boston with a cozy bakery. She had dreams of opening Bakeries across the east coast.

Dreams her long time crush that she met way back in Annapolis, MD told her to pursue. The thought of him still made her shiver. He was so young at the time, around twenty one. She would always see him in her neighborhood running in the early mornings with his Navy sweatshirt on and matching sweat pants. From there it extended to them hanging out for drinks and getting to know eachother. He would talk about his early life in Oakland, CA, his accent swooning her. Flirtatious, full of life, an ego big enough to make everyone in a room feel small, and lets not for get all around fine as HELL.

She missed him a lot, and honestly, he was one of the reasons why she even moved to Boston. He always talked about becoming an Engineer once he furthered his career in the Navy turned Military man. He was so mature for his age, most of the young niggas chasing after her still acted like they were eighteen. Nah, Erik had an old soul. Women older than him couldn’t believe he was only twenty one.

“Erik Stevens,” she blushed while molding her cookies on a tray lined with parchment paper. Her belly growled, a tiny frown of frustration on her face. She didn’t cook a damn thing and cookies would not be the meal of the night today. There were a few cups of spicy noodles in her cabinet she could hook up a ramen dish with veggies and egg. Once the cookies were in the oven, Y/N washes her hands, heading to take a quick shower. Once there, she stripped out of her t-shirt, the only thing on anyway.

The shower water spilled over her back and hair, her eyes closed and a satisfied sigh escaping her mouth. Tonight’s agenda: eat a bowl of vanilla ice cream with some cookies, sit on the couch with a glass of wine and read her fan fiction favorites. Smut was a number one but she started up with some Angst and now she was even more hooked on that. She could read a nice scary one tonight. Fully clean and skin smooth from the oil she applied in the shower, Y/N leaves the bathroom completely naked, walking out to check her cookies.

They were just about finished, having her entire place smelling like a bakery in the early morning. She rubs her hands together, squealing like the fat girl she was. Y/N’s motto was: love what you have and fuck whatever others thought. She’s tall and thick. 5’10 with a lot of curves to match. A Stallion. Pulling out her good wine glass, Y/N pours a generous glass of white wine, taking a small sip with a soothing hum.

“I’m about to have a good ass night,” she talks to herself. In the middle of shaking her hips within her toasty kitchen, a knock comes to her door. She raises a single brow, smacking her lips from her wine.

“Not tonight, fuck that,” she rolls her eyes, walking out of her kitchen and to her bedroom, the knocks came again but harder. She walked to the door, staring through the peep hole at a man’s back with a pizza box in hand. Scrunching her face with confusion, Y/N talks loud enough for the pizza guy to hear.

“I didn’t order any pizza, sir,” she says politely.

“You sure? Address said apartment 3B.”

His voice. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Well, apartment 3A didn’t order anything. But since you’re so persistent you can leave the box and I’ll take it for free.” She laughs loudly, causing the man on the other side of the door to laugh. He sounded good and she didn’t even see his face. Y/N was looking through that hole again, trying to catch this man but his back was still turned. Was he hiding?

“Is this some kind of joke?” She spoke with an attitude.

“Why don’t you open the door and see,” he challenged.

“Now why would I be dumb enough to do that?”

“This pizza hot and ready like little Caesar’s open the door, Baby girl.”

Just like a trap, she see’s a box of pizza open and sizzling, two toned and veiny arms with fingers perfectly manicured and thick stretching out while holding open the pizza to her. Her mouth watered.

“Damn, that does look good.” It was a legit box of pizza and he looked official with the uniform and all.

“Mhm, had to hold back from stealing a piece myself,” he started making sounds of satisfaction, drawing her in each time his deep yet raspy voice let out a mmm and a so good.

“Fuck it.” She was ready to open the door, unlocking it but before she could unhook the chain she stopped quickly, forgetting about her nudity.

“You good?” He chuckles.

“You out here about to have me show you my birthday suit!!!” She could hear him get close to the door.

“Birthday suit, huh?” The fact that she could smell him from behind the door...damn. He smelled so fucking good.

“Birthday suits are better then pajamas.”

She blushes, biting her lip.

“Can you give me a second?” She softly closes the door, quickly rushing to her room to retrieve her robe. It was gonna be a grab and go. He was giving it away for free so oh well. Wrapped in silk, Y/N rushes back to the door, finally opening it and coming face to face with-

“Free Pizza.” He held his arms out wide, dazzling smile on his face. The smile she remembers. The same pouty lips, unruly eyebrows, long lashes, dark eyes, and deep dimples. Her stupefied expression made him blink twice rapidly, the same look shaping his face as well.

“Y/N?!!!!” He finally spoke.

It was Erik Stevens in the flesh.

“What the fuck?” She whispers.

Erik Stevens is a damn pizza delivery guy?!!! After all these years this nigga was selling pizzas? She expected him to be a Doctor in Engineering living in a bomb ass condo with a bad bitch that he fucked every day. A bad bitch she wished she was.

“What. The. Absolute. FUCK.” She spoke again but louder. The music blasting a floor above her couldn’t match how loud she just yelled. Erik almost drops the pizza box. He catches it in time with swift reflexes.

“Nice to see you too, Y/N,” he looks her over, nodding his head with a slight smirk, “You look the fuck good girl. Almost had me dropping this box of pizza. Had a nigga trumped.”

“Ha,” she was light headed. Erik Stevens the damn Pizza guy. She was so shocked. This was a real awkward moment.

“Erik,” she starts before shaking her head. She couldn’t even put into words what she wanted to say to him in that moment.

“Something burning?” He sniffs the air.

“MY COOKIES!!!!!” She rushes into her apartment, leaving the door open while Erik slips inside. He was just as confused and shocked as she was. Box still in hand, Erik walks through her living room, taking in anything he could about the Y/N he missed out on. Still the same after all these years. Back in her presence, Erik watches with humor as she curses about her burnt cookies.

“I CANT BELIEVE-“ she stops mid rant, looking over her shoulder at Erik.

“You left your door opened,” he points to the door. Y/N just stood there looking at him while the burnt tray of cookies and an oven mit were in her other hand.

“Y/N, stop staring at me like that.” Erik shakes his head away from her, tossing the pizza box on the counter, “You got pizza now so why not eat that instead?” His voice has a teasing edge to it.

“Are you aware that I am so speechless right now!” She placed the tray of cookies on the stove, “I mean...ERIK!!!!!”

He laughs, removing his uniform hat to reveal short dreads. She damn near fainted.

“I’m aware, I ain’t expect to come here and see you looking the way you do. Just as fine, just ass...thick.”

He really says that after all these years. He could have said that to her years ago back in Annapolis, MD.

“Oh my God,” Y/N dramatically clutches her chest, “Aint no way this is happening to me tonight.”

“Oh yeah, it’s happening,” Erik bit his lip at her, “you look...”

They both laugh. Damn, what a reunion.

“Can I get you anything? She started opening cabinets, talking so fast she barely breathed.

“Coffee? Water? Juice? Some wine? Something stronger? Oh shit! My bad I forgot you’re working- speaking of work I never saw you as the pizza delivery guy type, I mean, not tryna down play you or anything you just seemed like you had bigger plans, much bigger plans-“

She turns, eyes almost leaving her sockets, standing before her in a male thong with a black bow tie around his neck and a body that would knock you on your back, was Erik Stevens the pizza delivery guy turned stripper.

“WHAT THE HELL?!!!” She yells out. This man was oiled down and everything. He steps around the kitchen island, eyes low and dangerous, lips turned up into a sly smirk, body on POINT.

“You serious?” She laughs nervously. What was this? She had to be fucking dreaming. Right off the back he just strips down, ready to seduce her. This man was wild.

“Somebody come wake my ass up!!!” She yells while pinching her forearm.

“Ain’t no dream here, babygirl, you look like you hungry for something else and I got that shit for you.”

Trapped, Y/N was in between the counter and a whole man. She could feel his dick on her thigh. This was quick. He was about business with this male stripper mess.

“LAWD!” She yells, looking anywhere but at him.

So, this man is a male stripper?! She kept thinking on a loop.

“Don’t act like that now you know you want this Y/N. You’ve been wanting this for a while.”

“You knew about that?!!!” She couldn’t believe this man was in a damn thong. What in the hell.

“Erik you gotta cut me some slack this is not how I planned our reunion would be like!”

His hands were on her waist now, lips close to her ear.

“Let’s make it a good reunion then, let a nigga put his nuts in your face.” He laughs and you gasp in pure shock.

“Did you-“ you blink at him like he was an extra terrestrial.

Out of no where he starts grinding on you, no music playing just his hips moving. What kind of stripper shit is this?

“No music?!” You laugh out loud.

“Play something then, Y/N,” he steps away while she walks backward to her phone on the kitchen counter. He wanted to do this, okay. She could play along and have a little fun. Laugh about it with his ass later. Y/N thought to pull up her ass shaking playlist but she didn’t see Erik as the type of stripper to put on a show to twerk hip hop. Finally, Y/N pulls up her slow jam playlist, settling for some Ginuwine. So Anxious starts playing, a big ass smile on Y/N’s face. She was trying her hardest not to be goofy about this shit but clearly, Erik didn’t care that he was at the wrong house. He had to have known this wasn’t the place for him to be.

“Well,” she sits on her couch, “Give me a show then, Stevens.”

Erik walks towards her, eyes low and body making her bite her lip. Erik stands before her, his dick in her face and Y/N’s eyes zeroing in on the big target. The minute he started grinding in her face, muscles moving in conjunction with his seductive hip rolling, she was ready to pull out her money.

“Shit, I forgot my money.”

She felt like she was back at her sisters bachelorette party all over again. The stripper there had her in a damn fantasy world. She gave him all her damn money.

“Don’t worry about all that, Y/N. Think of it as a little gift from your long time crush.” His dazzling smile made her blush from her cheeks down to her neck.

“Well can I at least touch you?”

Erik props his leg up on the couch, dick almost smacking her in her face with his excessive grinding and moaning. Jesus.

“Girl if you don’t enjoy your damn self.” He laughs when Y/N reaches out to drag her shaking fingers down his abs.

“JESUS.” She says through clenched teeth.

A loud thud from above her followed up by cheering and laughter caught her attention. Y/N put two and two together, a small smile creeping up her face.

“Looks like your supposed to be in 4B not 3B.”

Erik raises a single brow, “At least you’re keeping me with a hard dick until I get up there.” His hands were on the back of the couch now, his chest and abs in Y/N’s face while her hands rubbed his ass all the way around to his thighs. The song switched out to Pretty Ricky- Grind with me.

Out of no where, Erik picks Y/N up from the couch, seating himself and placing her in his lap. Erik lifted his hips from the couch, rolling them up into her naked crotch, causing her to bounce. This was torture. This was going to end up being a fuck session not a strip session.

“Okay, Erik, I think I’ve had my fun,” she was flushed and horny.

“Nah, lets keep going, baby girl.” His eyes with those lashes...she couldn’t look at him anymore.

“What made you become a stripper-WHAT!”

Erik lifts her legs to his shoulders, grinding into her like he was fucking her. She knew at this point her entire pussy was out for him to see.

“Stop asking questions,” he grabs her ass, squeezing it firmly while his hard dick rolled from her ass to her pussy.

“Erik this is fucking wild!!!” Y/N would have a laugh and maybe a cum or two later from this moment. Who was answering her prayers? Who out there besides Erik knew of the big crush she had on this gorgeous man. Erik didn’t even know she lived in Boston. This was some fate type of shit. His lips on her neck brought her back to reality.

“Don’t kiss on my neck like that unless you plan on fucking me!!!!” Y/N had no filter at this point. Erik was like a celebrity crush. Imagine being brought on stage by your favorite male artist and he’s grinding on you and making you feel special, THATS what this felt like.

“You wanna fuck?” He looked at her genuinely serious.

“Uh-“ he cuts her off.

“I mean, for you I can make that happen.”

Now she was wondering if he was a male escort. This man here...

“Erik...I’m telling you now...I know my pussy is all out there and it’s whatever but can you PLEASE STOP TEASING ME!!!”

Y/N lifts from Erik’s lap, pausing her music. Erik throws his head back, a booming laughter escaping his mouth while his muscles bounced in tune with his fit of chuckling. Y/N had to bite the inside of her cheek to calm her laugh.

“Aight cut that shit out I wanna be serious for a second.”

Before she could speak, Erik’s phone goes off. Groaning, he lifts from the couch, tucking one of his nuts back in place in that damn thong. Y/N had to put a fist to her mouth to control herself.

That thang is hanging! She thought salaciously.

“Yeah, this Daddy Kill, babygirl.” He smiles into the phone, gold slugs gleaming, “apartment 4B?”

He looks over at Y/N, both of them silently laughing. Erik clutched his ribs from the pain of laughter.

“Sorry for the late timing, sweetheart, I’ll be there real soon. Nah, keep the drinks going and make sure y’all ready and horny cuz ima put on a real good show,” Erik laughs with a bite of his lip, “Y’all some freaky bitches, aight bye.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open from hearing a Erik reader to those women as bitches. Without a flicker of care, Erik hangs up.

“So wassup, Y/N?” Erik walks further into her kitchen, “you said you got some strong shit, how about Hennessy? I need some extra energy for the 15 women upstairs.”

Y/N makes his drink while a thong wearing Erik stands before her, glistening and chiseled.

“Here you go,” she hands him his drink, “now tell me what made you become a damn stripper? And what else do you do? Cus you talking about sex is extra.”

Erik smiles with a shake of his head, “I am indeed a male entertainer, still working on my Engineering doctorate but after doing some experimenting online with live cam and all that I got a lot of hits. So now I do my own thing on the side. I strip, do live cam, have regular submissives.”

“You must make a lot of damn money to do this shit,” Y/N makes a drink for herself.

“I do, it’s a business on the side, Y/N,” Erik was overly humored, “You knocking the way I make my money, ma?”

“No!! No I just... I would have never expected this,” she shakes her head, “Are you in a relationship?”

Erik kisses his teeth, “Nah, single and I wanna keep it that way for a while.”

“Damn, I’m tryna shoot my shot and you just blocking me,” Y/N laughed, half way joking and half way serious. If they were together he wouldn’t be doing this anymore for other women, just her.

“You ain’t shoot your shot before what’s so different now? Is it cus my dick in your face?”

“No, it’s cuz I thought I would never see you again.”

Erik walks over to her, picking her up and sitting her on the kitchen counter. He plays her music again, grabbing her arms to place around his neck, moving her from side to side. She pouted, giving in to his antics.

“You make me sick,” she looks him in the eye, “you should probably go-AHHH!”

Erik picks Y/N up, bouncing her on his still hard dick. She was dripping on this man, he played entirely too much.

“Alright cut it out!!” She swatted at him, Erik putting her down with a smile.”

“Y/N, I missed you,” he chuckles, “You right, let me get up out of here.”

Erik walks away, picking up his fake pizza uniform, putting it on. Y/N runs her hands over her hair and adjusts her robe, heart still fluttering and legs wobbly. She walks over to the pizza, hovering her hand over it and noticing it was cold.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s just a gimmick.”

“Too bad. You sure you don’t want any money for your excellent services?” Y/N joked.

“Ha, I told you I’m good girl.”

Fully dressed, Erik finished off his Henny, grabbing his hat to put on and the box of pizza from the counter. Erik walked over to Y/N, grabbing her chin and placing a soft and lingering kiss on her cheek.

“You gonna miss me, Y/N? I promise to come back and see you since you’re in Boston now. We got a lot of catching up to do girl.”

Her heart skipped about two beats.

“You better.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Sorry I gotta leave you like this, but I can’t miss out on my money.”

Fuck them bitches upstairs, she seethed to herself.

“It’s cool, you’re just gonna make it up to me when I see you next time.”

Erik pulls out his phone, “give me your number.” He was telling more so than asking. Y/N gives him her digits, Erik storing it in his phone and saving it.

Y/N walks Erik to the door, the further they went the more she dreaded it. Opening the door, Erik walks out, turning to give her a tight hug and that same lingering kiss but to her forehead this time. He was really driving her crazy. Erik wasn’t going to make this crush thing easy. A fun night turned into a boring one.

“Bye, stupid,” she shoved him.

“Bye, girl.” Erik walks away and up the steps, turning to look over his shoulder from time to time with a smile on his face.

“Pick that lip up,” he teases.

“They don’t deserve your body!!!” Y/N yells after him.

“YOU SO STINGY!!” He yells back, Y/N closing her door behind her with a huge grin on her face.

It only took a few seconds before she heard the door opening, Erik giving the ladies his intro.

“Pizza delivery for 4B, right?”

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bostonrealestateblog · 8 months

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Condos could replace small warehouse on Addison Street in East Boston | Universal Hub

20 condo units planned.

#real estate #housing #property #boston #money #realestate #city #real estate agent #development #east Boston

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

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Life Changes Part 3 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all.

Authors Note: Part 3 of my Biz rewrite. Added about 400 words including a little lowkey flirting so check it out, no major changes but I like to think there’s it’s worth you reading again even if you read the original part 3.

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no Warnings: none Word Count: 3,707

__________________________________________________________

“Stop looking for happiness in the same place that you lost it.”

It had been two weeks since I left Boston. Two weeks since I found out that my ex had used me by pretending to be mine until it wasn’t convenient anymore and he dumped me to marry his real girlfriend. Two weeks since he broke my heart in two again and left me to pick up the pieces.

To say that I hadn’t been myself was maybe the understatement of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I did my job to the best of my ability, both with the podcast and with my clients, but I kept conversations as brief as I could manage and the easy smile that usually graced my face had completely disappeared. I was eternally exhausted, tossing and turning in my bed every night, the same bed that I’d been with him in, sharing the most intimate pieces of myself.

It had been two weeks from one of the worst days of my life when my phone buzzed causing me to roll over in bed to see who was trying to get in touch with me at almost midnight. The name ‘Paul Bissonnette’ was at the top of a string of text message alerts and sighing softly, I reached for my phone before laying back down to read them.

Hey, you there…

C’mon I know you’re still awake. You’re a self-admitted night owl.

I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you.

Come to Arizona. Leave the crappy cold rainy/snowy weather and come hang out with me in the sunshine.

Please??

I have a spare bedroom.

Reading his messages I sighed softly. Maybe it would be good to get away from my apartment and get some sun. I didn’t have any court dates upcoming or meetings with clients scheduled so there was no real reason I had to stay on the east coast and the weather had really sucked lately. There had been maybe one day of sunshine in the past month and it was on a day that was something like 18 degrees outside.

You sure you want to put up with me, I’m not the most pleasant person to be around lately?

Yes. Get your pretty ass to Scottsdale.

Sighing, I reached for my computer located beside my bed and once it booted up I pulled open my go-to travel site to try and find a flight to the west coast. Tickets weren’t cheap but it wasn’t like I was going to have to pay for a hotel and the more I thought about the suggestion Paul had made, the more I realized that getting away would be good for me. Booking tickets for a week-long trip, I sent the info to Paul before climbing out of bed.

My flight was scheduled to leave at just after 7am the next morning. That meant I needed to be at the airport by 5:30 or so and it was about an hour and a half drive there meaning I needed to leave at 4am. It was already past midnight and I obviously needed to pack so I said goodbye to the possibility of sleeping tonight telling myself that it would be worth it when I reached the warmth of Arizona. Seeing that Paul had yet to respond to me I shot him another text before running my fingers through my hair.

You’re picking me up, right?

Grabbing my suitcase from my closet, I quickly looked up Arizona’s weather before grabbing clothes to pack into it. It was in the 70’s and 80’s there mid-March so I packed my one and only swimsuit along with shorts, tank tops and t-shirts, adding a pair of jeans, yoga pants and a sweatshirt for going into restaurants or for the cooler evenings. As I finished with my clothing and moved to pack the necessities located in the bathroom, my phone buzzed with a new message.

Damn you’re efficient. See you in the morning. Travel safe.

Once I’d finished packing my suitcase, I worked on preparing my carry-on with all of the files I’d need to work on my current caseload for clients as well as anything I needed for the podcast. It was almost 1:30 in the morning by the time I had my things ready to go and so I switched to getting myself ready. Putting some music on, I slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower before getting dressed again and then settled onto my lounge chair in my living room to watch something random on tv until I needed to leave.

I was tired but actually kind of excited to see a new part of the country because the furthest west I’d ever been was South Dakota. As I drove to the airport I listened to the newest podcast episode, however, the closer I got the more a nauseous feeling came over me and I dug in my bag for peppermints to try and calm my stomach. The nausea had to be from the excitement, lack of sleep, or from not having had much to eat the past few days so I didn’t let it worry me.

After checking my bag and passing through security, I headed to the gate to wait on my flight. I wasn’t there long before I found myself making a mad dash to the bathroom feeling the need to heave even if there wasn’t anything in my stomach to throw up.

On my way back to the gate, I stopped to buy a bottle of water and a muffin, hoping that some hydration and food would help. When I finally boarded, I was still nauseous but thankfully hadn’t thrown up again. Settling onto the plane, I buckled up and then tried to doze off and get at least a little bit of rest during the four-hour flight. By the time I stirred we were only about 20 minutes away, 20 minutes that I prayed passed quickly because the nausea from before was still present and hadn’t ebbed.

A bumpy landing nearly did me in, but I managed to quell the urge to puke by popping another peppermint and resting my head on my knees. Climbing off the plane, I felt like a zombie making my way to baggage claim. Waiting for me there was the 6’2” Canadian who had convinced me to come here. Taking in my appearance he winced visibly before wrapping his arms around me gently.

“Can you hold this for a minute?” I mumbled offering him my carry on. When he took it, I quickly glanced around for the nearest restroom before speed-walking over. Once inside a stall I finally gave in to the nausea, throwing up the muffin that I forced myself to eat before takeoff. When I returned, I reached for my bag to grab another mint, hoping to hide the smell of vomit.

“You could’ve said you were sick and not come,” Paul assured me, seeing right through my actions as he turned to search for my luggage.

“I didn’t start feeling sick until I was driving to the airport. And I’m fine, my body is just worn down from stress. I’m here to get refreshed and renewed, aren’t I?” Though his expression showed his continued concern, when I pointed to my bag, Paul grabbed it and then returned to my side, placing a hand on my lower back to guide me through the airport to where he was parked.

“Have you slept at all recently?” He asked once I was settled into his car and he was back behind the wheel to take me to his place.

“I napped for the majority of the plane ride.” I insisted, although the yawn leaving my throat gave away that I hadn’t slept much more than that. Instead of responding, Paul just raised an eyebrow at me before turning his attention back to the road. It wasn’t long before we reached his condo and I had to admit that it was beautiful. Of course, the decorations were lacking and it was a total bachelor pad, but the space itself was stunning.

Paul took my things and placed them in his spare room while I was looking around and when he returned he insisted on giving me a proper tour. As I looked outside, Paul pointed out the pool and that the key was right by the door and that I was welcome to use it as much as I wanted. His condo also had a firepit and I was looking forward to spending the evenings there. The smell of fire was one of my favorite scents and that was the kind of relaxation I needed.

Back inside, he pointed out the hall bathroom and where the spare room was before detouring to point to his room and then letting me go settle in.

“Why don’t you rest for a few hours and then maybe we can grab lunch or something?” He suggested. Nodding, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back for a hug.

“Thanks for insisting I get away and for putting me up. I need this.” After returning my hug and insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, Paul left me to unpack a bit and just relax. After changing from my winter clothes into pajama shorts and a tank, I crawled into bed and within moments crashed from exhaustion.

When I stirred from sleep, it took me a minute to recall where I was. A glance at my phone screen told me that it was almost five o’clock, almost six hours after I’d fallen asleep. Sliding out of bed, I stretched before padding out from the guest bedroom in search of something to drink because my throat was dry from the change in humidity.

By the time I reached the kitchen and was looking for a glass, I heard the patio door open and instead of just directing me to the proper cabinet, Paul was opening the fridge and handing me a bottle of water.

“Sleeping beauty awakes….you feeling better?” Taking a sip of the bottle of water I nodded. My stomach felt much better than it had before and the quality of sleep definitely had me feeling like less of a zombie.

“Yeah, thanks…I didn’t realize a few hours was six though. Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

“You looked like you needed it and you were too peaceful to disturb.” He replied shrugging as he leaned against the counter. “You want to clean up a bit, get dressed and then go get some dinner?”

“Sure.” I agreed, though I didn’t move until I had finished the bottle of water, tossing it into the recycling bin in the corner of the room. Ten minutes later I was dressed in a pair of capris and a cute top, sandals on my feet with a sweater draped over my arm. Quickly I checked my appearance in the mirror before grabbing my phone and wallet so that we could head out.

The car ride to and from dinner was filled with music, Paul letting me choose the radio station in his car. Conversation came easy, talking about our families and hometowns, what experiences had led to where each of us was today. There was something about Paul’s presence that made me feel relaxed, and I never found myself worried about what he was thinking. When we finished dinner I attempted to pay the check but Paul refused to let me anywhere near the bill, insisting that the guys would never let him live it down if they found out he’d let me pay.

Upon returning to Paul’s place after dinner, we made our way out to the patio and Paul started a fire. The way the flames flickered, almost seemingly to the sound of the music playing softly from a speaker, made me smile and I just snuggled into the lounge chair, having pulled a sweatshirt on for warmth before coming outside.

“So…” Paul’s voice eventually broke the silence and I turned my head to look over at him. “The yotes play tomorrow and I have to work but I was wondering if you wanted to come to the game? I can give you a quick tour and you can just enjoy some hockey where you don’t care about the outcome?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun…I have to get some work done myself tomorrow but I wasn’t really planning on spending the entire day working.” Going to a new NHL arena was always a cool experience and it was certainly a more interesting way to spend my time here than just curled up on Paul’s couch all day.

“Awesome.”

After that, silence filled the air again but it was comfortable like there wasn’t anything that needed to be said and the two of us could just exist in the same space. Occasionally I’d look over at Paul to find him watching the fire or looking up at what few stars were visible in the Arizona sky. He looked peaceful and his energy left me feeling even more relaxed. After about two hours, we agreed to let the fire burn out and once it had we headed back inside. I was already feeling drowsy when Paul asked if I wanted to watch a movie or something, so I shook my head murmuring that I was going to try and get some sleep and that I’d see him in the morning.

___

When I awoke the next morning it did not come with the pleasant rested feeling of yesterday’s nap, instead, it came with that stomach-twisting feeling that sent me staggering for the bathroom to kneel in front of the toilet. The sound of my puking must have been loud enough to alert Paul because in no time at all he was behind me, holding my hair back as I spilled my guts.

When it seemed like I was finally finished, he handed me a cool washcloth and my toothbrush which he’d already put toothpaste on. Taking both, I ran the washcloth over the back of my neck and then down over my chest all the while working on brushing my teeth to cleanse myself of the taste of vomit.

“You okay?” He asked, face crinkled with concern as he leaned against the doorframe, giving me some space to move around.

“I mean I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus but yeah I’m fine.” Running my fingers through my hair, I looked up at him and sighed. “Stop worrying, I’m fine. It’s just my body’s way of coping with all the stress I’ve put it through finally starting to ebb.” Paul didn’t look convinced but he didn’t say anything other than asking if I wanted breakfast. When I shook my head he nodded and left the room telling me to come get him if I needed him or changed my mind on food.

Since I’d decided to wait a while for my stomach to settle before eating, I grabbed my computer to sort through work emails and handle some paperwork. Getting lost in my work it was lunchtime before I even looked up, and after finishing what I was working on for the moment, I decided it was time for a break and to try and eat something. I already felt much better than just a few hours ago.

Digging through Paul’s kitchen was a sad affair, the man was definitely a bachelor. Thankfully he had some chicken breasts in the freezer and some fresh vegetables in the produce drawer of his fridge. Pulling out the chicken, I placed it on a plate in the microwave to defrost before pulling out the vegetables to cut after tracking down a cutting board and knife.

Once the chicken was defrosted, I slipped out to the patio to start his grill, throwing the chicken on to start cooking once I’d seasoned it with a spice mix I had found in his cabinets. While the chicken cooked, I plated up the vegetables and washed the dishes I’d used. Fifteen minutes later the chicken was done and I added it to the plates after letting it sit to redistribute the juices.

Paul had worked out earlier but I wasn’t sure where he’d disappeared to while I was working. Padding through the condo, I found him lounging in his bed with the tv playing softly and notes for either the yotes or the podcast surrounding him. Tapping on the doorframe to draw his attention I smiled when he looked up at me.

“Hey…I made lunch if you’re hungry…” Shoving papers to the side he quickly stood up and walked toward me.

“What the hell did you find to make?” He questioned, expression confused but impressed.

“Just grilled up some chicken breasts and cut up some vegetables. Nothing super complex.” It was also something that I hoped would be light enough that my stomach wouldn’t react adversely. Grabbing a plate from the counter, I moved out to the patio, planning on enjoying this weather as much as I could. After all, there was no way I could sit outside to eat back at home.

Paul followed, balancing his plate along with two glasses, gently setting one in front of me before sitting his own food and drink down.

“Just iced tea.” He assured me and I nodded murmuring my thanks. Lunch went down easy and when I was finished I leaned back in my chair just looking out at the great view.

“So what time do we need to leave for the arena?” I questioned, my brain always trying to plan out the next steps of whatever it was I was doing. I had no idea what I was going to wear or where I’d be sitting for the game and it left me slightly uneasy.

“Probably around 4. That way I can give you a quick tour and make sure I have everything ready.” Nodding at his answer, I declared that that sounded good and took his plate when he was finished, slipping back inside to wash them up and put everything from lunch away. Having gotten everything I wanted to get done work-wise accomplished earlier, I moved to grab the book I’d thrown in my bag and settled myself back outside to enjoy some more fresh air.

Knowing that it wouldn’t take that long to get ready, I set an alarm for three pm to stop reading if I hadn’t gotten tired of the book by then. Around 2:45, I heard the patio door open and then quickly shut and before I could turn around or react, a piece of soft fabric was landing in my lap. Picking it up, I chuckled seeing that it was obviously one of Paul’s t-shirts that he’d gotten from the team in his years here.

Grabbing the shirt and my things, I moved back inside, shaking my head as I could hear Paul rattling around in his closet. Stopping in his doorway, I poked my head in.

“Thanks.” I called out and when he entered my vision without a shirt on, I lost my train of thought.

“Figured I’d save you the mental turmoil over what to wear.” He teased and it was pretty sad that after less than a month he knew me that well already. Ducking my head, I slipped away from the room and back to the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Paul was an attractive man and even someone recovering from heartbreak could see that.

Quickly, I slipped into the pair of jeans I’d brought and after throwing on a black long sleeve t-shirt, I pulled Paul’s shirt on over it. The material was so soft in the way that showed that it was well worn and it definitely had that lingering smell that signaled it belonged to a man. Since I was absolutely swimming in it, I quickly tucked it into my jeans so that it didn’t look quite so baggy.

Now dressed, I grabbed the little bit of makeup I’d brought as well as my curling iron and made my way to the guest bathroom to finish getting ready. My hair would definitely take the longest so while I waited for the curling iron to heat up I quickly did my make up, keeping it simple with just foundation, eyeliner, mascara, blush, and lipstick.

By the time we needed to leave I’d managed to get my hair curled into soft waves and after unplugging the curling iron and grabbing my things, I made my way to the living room to wait on Paul. When he appeared all dressed in his suit, I couldn’t help but tease him about cleaning up nice. In return he lightly commented that I looked hot in his clothes, making me flush slightly as I laughed, enjoying the easy banter between us.

I’d been to a few different NHL arenas before but I’d never gotten the full tour and so I was sure the wonder showed on my face as Paul showed me around before leading me up to the box where he did the radio broadcast. It was a pretty nice view of the ice and I listened intently as he explained everything. Seeing someone be passionate about what they were doing was always something that got my attention and it seemed like he really had found his niche with all of the media work he was doing.

Sadly the game ended in a loss but I’d had fun all the same, going down to rinkside for warmups where Clayton Keller tossed me a puck after having met me when Paul and I ran into him earlier. Paul had put me into one of the season tickets seats he’d purchased and while I liked the view from above, it was always nicer feeling like I was close to the action in the middle of the crowd.

Arriving back at his condo, I was completely worn out and after hugging Paul goodnight and thanking him again for letting me stay with him and for providing a great night out, I slipped into the guest bedroom and passed out after changing into pajamas.

Chapter 3 Social Media:

#paul bissonnette #paul bissonnette imagine #arizona coyotes #arizona coyotes imagine #former player #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #014.1

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jessekeyes12 · 4 years

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Developer Jesse Keyes turns unconventional into bold statement

If there was ever a case of a building perfectly mirroring its developer, it would be One Seventh and Jesse Keyes. Both are angular, ultra-chic, smart and aggressive. Both are also making their emphatic debut on the New York architecture and style worlds.

Built on a 45-degree angle at the juncture of four different streets where Seventh Ave. South meets Varick and Carmine Sts., One Seventh resembles a hulking helm of a slick, futuristic boat or space-age flying machine. Six stories tall with just four units, the corner building shaped in an angular prism has a façade of manganese ironspot brick and Solarban 80 double-paned glass.

The side of the building on Seventh Ave. South that parallels the rush of autos making their way to Tribeca or the Holland Tunnel has bold racing stripes and competing slabs of vertical windows. On the mellower Carmine St., Juliet balconies face the local cafes, old-time Spanish restaurants and bootleg record stores. One Seventh blends seamlessly with its intersection and has gainied total community board support.

"No developer would take a chance on this site, which was operated as a gas station since the 1920s and unused for almost a decade," says Keyes, 35, an investor in the swank Goldbar and a partner in La Esquina, one of New York's hippest eateries. "They said it was too small or that the shape wouldn't work. I saw it as an opportunity. We took design risks with this project that architects generally do with museums and public spaces."

Designed by Rogers Marvel Architects, the same firm recently awarded the Governors Island commission, One Seventh is allegedly the world's first full-floor triangular residence. To make the project work financially, Keyes' development firm REcappartners worked with zoning attorneys Charles Rizzo & Associates to help get a variance to build higher than the allowed three floors. On top of the building, Keyes built a penthouse duplex with two outdoor terraces, both of which lean toward the corner angle.

"The question we had to answer was, how does one live in a triangle," says Keyes, who plays a hand in every design decision. "When I picture who is going to live here, I see an investment banker with an artist inside or an artist with a lot of money. I see the banker sitting totally naked in a chaise longue at the apex of the 45-degree angle, looking out at the cars driving down Seventh Ave., on the phone with his friends, thinking: 'How am I going to own this town tonight?'"

With hardly any marketing, they have two offers for the four units. One from a banker, the other from the son of a Spanish film producer. Prudential Douglas Elliman's Kevin King, a two-year agent who happens to be the long-time maitre d' at Balthazar, heads up sales. The three 1,371-square-foot, two-bedroom, two-bath apartments are listed for $1,995,000. The 2,106-square-foot, three-floor penthouse with 961 square feet of outdoor space costs $4.45 million.

"We're waiting till the units are completely finished until we formally sell the apartments," says King. "A finished product will show how unique this project is and assure we get what it's worth."

Jesse Keyes comes from both sides of the tracks. His parents were hippies. His mother, a lesbian, split from his father but stayed in Redwood City, Calif., supporting her two children as a gardener. As Jesse puts it, they lived on the "wrong side of the tracks." Ironically, she tended gardens near Jesse's father's estate in Woodside, Calif.

"Mom was a real hippie, and dad was a pseudo-hippie," says Keyes, who was called "Blanquito," or little white boy by his Pueblo Mexican barrio neighbors. "Half the time I was in my poor Mexican 'hood with my mom and the other half with a swimming pool, Mercedes, Porsches and horses with my dad."

Keyes talks openly about his desire but inability to communicate with his Spanish-speaking neighbors. He talks openly about almost everything, especially his drive to never stop learning or moving.

"There's a point where you grow up in suburbia that you say I'm either going to get stuck in this for the rest of my life or do something fascinating or interesting," he says. "I was visiting a friend in Mexico City when I was 17 years old. We were in his family's penthouse and I was looking over the slums of the city, whose people needed major help at the time. I thought to myself, we as capitalists need to do better for these people. It was then that I knew I needed to focus on this for the rest of my life."

For Keyes, that meant Princeton, a year in Spain to learn the language, a Fulbright Fellowship and a master's in architecture in Catalonia, a Kinne Fellowship in the Dominican Republic, a job with the prestigious Boston Consultant Group, a master's in real estate from Columbia University, a doctoral candidacy and teaching fellow at Rutgers University in Urban Planning, and roles in the Gore and Kerry presidential campaigns.

"My father is good friends with Gore from St. Albans," says Keyes, whose great-grandfather on his father's side was Democratic Senator Morris Sheppard from Texas who championed Prohibition and women's rights. "My goal was eventually to work in Housing and Urban Development [HUD]. After those two losses, I planned to teach and research through my 30s. But academia, especially in our current political climate, was not as fulfilling as I thought. Building strong architectural projects is a way to make my mark and some money. Eventually, I will get back into affordable housing and giving back in some way."

Keyes' next project is already a major coup for him and New York. Working with Habita, a Mexican group known globally for designing and operating some of the world's chicest boutique hotels, Keyes will open a Mexican-themed, mixed-use hotel and condo project in a location below Houston St. on the East Side. Mexican architect Enrique Norton, who designed One York on Canal St. in New York and the Guggenheim in Guatemala, is an equity partner in the project.

"I want to make a unique statement and be part of the next big place," says Keyes, whose groomed beard and middle-parted hair give him the look of Al Pacino in "Serpico." "You hope it doesn't become something like what happened in the Meatpacking District, which had little thought and planning and became oversaturated with the same product, bars and restaurants. There should be mixed use there. And the Hotel Gansevoort is a mistake. I don't know how they got that built."

Slightly controlling, obsessive about details, and intellectually strategic, Keyes even wrote the copy for the One Seventh marketing materials. (I haven't met a developer yet who does that.) He prefers to focus on one project at a time as opposed to stretching himself thin and losing touch with the day-to-day decisions that these high-design projects demand.

"Scalability will be hard because for each project I'm looking for a specific art and message," says Keyes. "In any case, when you get bigger you lose control over certain levers, and I don't want that to happen."

Still, according to Thaddeus Briner, the architect for One Seventh, formerly of Rogers Marvel (and I.M. Pei's firm) and now on his own, Keyes is a very good client. "This was a dream project," says Briner. "It combined a really challenging site with an extremely progressive client. Those don't come along very often."

Resource : https://www.nydailynews.com/life-style/real-estate/developer-jesse-keyes-turns-unconventional-bold-statement-article-1.339485

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dvlavieri · 4 years

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san francisco’s color, excitement, power, freedom

The things that spell San Francisco to me are disappearing fast... I should have liked to have lived here then — color, excitement, power, freedom.

Gavin Elster, in Hitchock’s Vertigo

why did i move to san francisco? that’s no easy question. any response with a grain of truth would necessarily have to encompass the whole of my life up to that point: my relationship to the many past versions of myself, that kept going on in phantom vectors around boston (around the world too, i suppose). ghosts of who i could have become, or did become from other points of view than my own. i kept running into them around town, having to momentarily conjoin myself to their rotting corpses, impersonate them for a conversation, a date, a family party. boston became my personal necropolis.

i felt that i had to leave, but i didn’t know where. for years i had constructed cities in my mind, illusory ones that corresponded to real ones. built brick by brick from the ground up on illusions and partial truths, borrowed histories that meant nothing to me. i had never really been to san francisco, only briefly, i think but am not sure, a decade before.

i believed in the mythos of california. its perfect temperance, its embracing blue. the fog and natural wonder. the slow-motion container ships gliding across the untroubled bay; sailboats skittering between the bridges, bay and golden gate. the city by the bay, fenced in by those famous bridges, hulking up close but filigree and precious from afar. down the peninsula’s hitchhiker thumb, the future was being built from binary zeroes and ones down in silicon valley. where apple orchards grew and steinbeck’s heroes lived and died. the gold rush that drew thousands, and after that just the golden idea of opportunity, acceptance, an amnesia for history that felt like freedom. i became enamored with the idea of this city without ever having visited, a vision of the west that felt pristine but possible.

so i decided to move here. it was as simple as that. sight unseen, i set in motion the series of cogs that became an unstoppable inertia. that was when i first watched hitchcock’s Vertigo.

my visions of san francisco became suffuse with a new mystery and wonder. the fog filtered vistas that wove together the present with romantic past. the knowing coit tower watching down from telegraph hill. the city’s most iconic resident, spanning a misty expanse in intercontinental orange, in a constant state of repaint, connecting the city’s balk and bustle to the quiet idylls of marin.

in the north the rolling hills of chapparal, thistle, and fescue, in alternating states of electric lush, and a dusty cash-green. down south of the city, misty coastlines fringed with the twisted bodies of cypress, sequoia, and wild succulent where scottie and madeleine shared a blustery kiss. off to the east the dusky mauve of shimmering oakland and berkeley lights in the pale gradient of an opposing sunset. in the city, i crisscrossed dramatic hills, up and down california and grant avenues, following the celluloid dream of madeleine’s green jaguar. from the brocklebank down to the baldocchi podesta florist, and then south into that hazy garden cemetery at the mission dolores, painted in a heavy honied sunlight. (madeleine... even her name a proustian evocation of the idealized past, a delicate cookie dipped in a limeleaf tisane). from these familar sites, always present on the horizon the metallic monolith of the newly constructed salesforce tower, the tallest building in the west. san francisco came to contain all these things, romance and mystery, opportunity, power, freedom, color, and excitement.

on my first visit, in the last week of july 2017, i stayed with a friend in her basement apartment in the presidio’s cold forested corner. i woke early each day to see the golden gate in her matinal beauty, only to look into a thick fortress of fog, ice cold in july. walking down market, i felt adrift in a strange place, a sort of wideopen urban chaosphere. dirty sidewalks beneath the glassy greens of newly built condos, astride the stubborn storefronts of citylife, grimey with age. scuzzy Ace Hardwares and Safeways, and suddenly empty boutique clothiers and breezy cafes with vines creeping wall and ceiling. the city’s homeless in various states of filth and health, screaming at no one, or at this everywhere embodiment of having been left behind. techies and yuppies in uniforms of lycra and Patagonia fleece and down, on motorizedmaking knightsmoves around them scooters and skateboards. Google, Facebook, Stripe, Square, little primary colored emblems figured on their otherwise homogeneous attire, designed for comfort and conformity. wedged between the in- and out-bound market street traffic, half-empty cable cars chuffed along the city’s main artery. conveyance too slow for san franciso’s frenzied denizens, but still a thread connecting this gritty and real city to that other san francisco that throbbed, i believed, beneath the surface, one that connected past, present, and future.

then, san francisco was an escape for me into the unknown. an escape i felt that i needed, an opportunity to shirk previous versions of myself that haunted me around boston. i felt like “a boat against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." my life in boston was a happy one, more or less, but i had a yearning that the city and state of my birth could not sate. a personal manifest destiny that drew me westward.

in these two years, the city has changed in many ways for me, from a place obscured with cinematic romance and mystery, to one with very real difficulties, discomforts, doubts and despairs about the present and future, but opportunities too. new impulses, desires, connections, even in this place that so often defrauds human connection with interfaces and monetization schemes. in california there are many wanderers, is it true, what madeleine warns, that “only one is a wanderer... two are always going somewhere?” i wonder are we all wandering alone in the west? what are we seeking? are we seeking an impossible illusion, that exists only in our individual imaginations or in idealized “portals to the past,” like scottie rambling the hills and valleys of the city in search of his own lost ideals? or are we all, in our own way, going somewhere together, toward some unified and glorious ideal, a future forged of bits and bytes in the smithy by the bay?

#san francisco #blog #personal

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