As I mentioned in the summary, my tumblr ask box is open for prompts, and these are the works that come out of it. There's no real rhyme or reason there, no connective thread, just what strikes the fancy of the muse on the days I'm writing. More often than not they'll be Steve/Darcy stories, but you'll also find the occasional Steve/Darcy/Bucky stories or a Tony/Pepper one (from what I have written thus far at least).

This first chapter comes from a prompt by Merideath (who, if you're looking for good Steve/Darcy pieces, has some of the best out there) who asked for: "Steve/Darcy, a Breakfast Club/high school AU."

The title is from the following quote: "A jug of wine, a leg of lamb, and thou! Beside me, whistling in the darkness." - The Principia Discordia


The girl who thumps down in the seat across from him has black plastic framed glasses, dark hair tossed back into a messy bun, and what can only be described as a wise-ass smirk on her face. "So what are you in for?" she asks him, twirling a pen around in her fingers and then shoving the end into her mouth, chewing on the cap.

One of Steve's arms unfolds from where it's folded across his chest, and he rubs wearily at the livid bruise below his right eye. Then he winces because damn, that stings. "Fighting," he says. Fighting is the short answer, however. But when some meathead football player picks on Bucky, Steve's not one to let that slide. And while he may have the height to intimidate the football team the muscles haven't quite caught up yet. He's lucky that he only came out of it with a series of Saturday detentions given that, by some miracle, the vice principal could see that he was on the defensive rather than the offensive. "How about you?" He asks in return.

Darcy grimaces, teeth chomping down on the pen cap probably a bit harder than she should as Steve can hear the plastic cracking. "There was an incident," she mumbles around the pen. "Let's just say it involved a shoe, a set of keys, and some electrical currents." She raises her arms in the air, like she's asking someone not to shoot. "But I swear, I can explain."

The long, winding, complicated explanation should not be as attractive as it is, but it's hard for him to look away from her waving hands and her wide blue eyes. By the time she gets to the end of her story, Steve's laughing out loud, the pain from his black eye long forgotten.

It's during their third shared detention when Steve finally gets up the courage to kiss her, deep in the library stacks amongst the old books, far away from the eagle-eyes of the teacher on guard that Saturday.


If there's anything you want to see, feel free to leave a prompt at my tumblr: aenariasbookshelf dot tumblr dot com. Thanks for reading!