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jaxteller87 · 1 year

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Big Papa 3

Work had been pretty busy the past few weeks for both Jax and me, and it wasn’t too often that our lunch hour matched up. If he wasn’t putting in extra hours at TM, he was off doing something for the club, but I guess that’s how it goes when you’re the VP and your stepdad is Prez. So, when I got a call from Jax saying he had a few minutes for a quick lunch, I did what I had to in order to make it happen. We had only a few minutes, so I stopped at Burgers and Sweets, picked up our go-to fast meal, and made my way to the clubhouse. I was about to tap on the door when I overheard Jax and Clay talking.

“No, Clay, I’m telling my wife I’m going to jail so she isn’t worried sick when she watches Agent Stahl cart us all over to Stockton. I want her to know it’s not real. That’s what me and Opie have been telling you for weeks! If this plan actually goes through, we don’t want our wives thinking we’re lookin’ at serious time.”

Clay had just started to respond to Jax’s comments when Chibs saw me, and I had to act like I wasn’t listening.

“Aye, love,” he said, giving me one of those friendly but awkward half-hugs. I’m sure he knew what I was doing but was trying to play it off like he didn’t notice me pressed up against the door.

Just then, the door swung open, and Clay and Jax stood there with annoyance painted across their faces.

“Hey, guys!” I said, “I brought lunch!”

“Hey, darlin’,” Jax said with a sigh, planting a quick peck on my cheek.

“Hey Amber,” Clay put his sunglasses on, “I’ll need to take a rain check on the fast food; Gemma has me countin’ calories.”

“No problem—” I started to answer.

“Well then, no one will mind if I claim the president’s platter then, aye?” Chibs said, smiling while plucking the other bag from my hand.

“Of course not, have at it,” I said.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to hit the road,” Clay walked past us toward his bike, “Jax, you think about what I said. Amber—”

“Yea, Clay?” I responded.

“Nice to see you out and about again. You look fabulous under the beautiful, Charming sun.”

I could feel the tension between them as he mounted his bike. It was all I could do just to smile and nod thankfully.

Jax nodded at Chibs with that angry yet determined look in his eye, grabbed my hand, and led me back to his old clubhouse bedroom. I started on him as soon as he shut the door, trying to keep it civil.

“Has that greedy old bastard lost his damn mind!” I exclaimed.

“Pretty much.”

“I can only assume this has been the root of your grumpiness lately?” I asked.

“Me? Grumpy? No – never,” he tore into the take-out bag and grabbed his burger.

“Don’t really wanna talk about it, huh?” I already knew the answer.

“Not really. Just got done talking about it, and frankly, it has me a little pissed off.” He took a huge bite, almost as if he was telling me to just eat and keep my mouth shut.

“Okay, then you listen, and I’ll talk.” I moved closer to him.

“Have at it.”

“So, I don’t know shit about whatever the plan is here, but what I think I know is that he thinks Donna and I will blow your cover if we don’t act genuine in front of the law? Sound about right?”

Teller nods at me, taking another massive chunk out of his sandwich. At this rate, he’ll have housed the whole thing in less than five bites.

“Tell me this. When did he so damn greedy? Is this even a good look for the club? And before you go off thinking that I don’t know what’s going on, you’re absolutely right. But I do have a pretty good idea, so don’t go thinkin’ I’m just going to let this alone.”

“Okay,” he said with his mouth full of food.

He kept chewing, and I sat there, waiting for him to say more.

“Well?” I eventually pushed.

“Fine. But I don’t want to talk about this right now. At least give me some time to cool off. Can’t we just have a nice lunch? We never get to do this anymore.”

“No problem, I’m sorry. But later, I want you to tell me what’s been going on, deal?”

“Absolutely. Til then, what do you say we take this party out to the picnic table?” he said, taking hold of my wheelchair and leading me outside. “Clay was right about one thing, though.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I asked.

“You do look fabulous under the Charming sun.”

The rest of the lunch was pretty nice. We talked about nothing in particular and instead enjoyed each other’s company while catching up on current events and the gossip around Charming I picked up while getting my hair done over the weekend. As our little date was coming to an end, we both had to get back to work. We cleaned up and said our goodbyes, but when Jax leaned in close to kiss me, he playfully growled into my ear. Then he kissed my head, got up, and strutted off back to the garage.

He knew that he absolutely drove me wild when he did that, and he was blissfully aware that he was exciting me right before we had to part ways.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing, Jackson Teller.” I scowled at him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Just you wait, mister. You’re getting it when you get home tonight,” I wheeled myself over to the car, trying not to let him see me blushing.

“Good,” he yelled back, “I hope I do!”

“That cheeky little bastard, I can’t believe he did that, “I mumbled, pulling out of the Teller Morrow parking lot.

Later that night, I was lying in our king-size bed, the moonlight shining through the window. As soon as he came through the door, I quickly reminded him that he had yet to receive punishment for his little flirty stunt at TM after lunch.

We wrestled around on the bed a little until I decided to kill the mood by once again addressing the elephant in the room.

“So, you’ve had plenty of time to cool down,” I told him.

“I guess. And you still wanna talk about it?” he asked, running his fingers down my arm.

“I hate to ruin the mood, but knowing that whatever is going on between you and Clay is eating you up inside destroys me.” I kissed his chest, doing my best to keep him calm and trying not to retrigger his anger from earlier.

“I love you, babe,” he pulled me closer with one arm.

“I love you too, big papa,” I responded.

“Can we do this in the morning? Over some breakfast, perhaps? I’m really tired, darlin’, and I think it’d be better if I slept on everything before I unbox it all.”

“Of course,” I whispered, and we were fast asleep within minutes.

The following morning I awoke to an excellent breakfast prepared by my husband. It included all my favorites, eggs, bacon, pancakes, fresh fruit, and orange juice.

“This looks so good!” I told him, but I wasn’t willing to put off this conversation any longer. “Look, I know that I’m on a need-to-know basis, and I’m cool with that, but if something has you this upset, this worried, where you’re constantly being short-fused and lashing out, then I need-to-know.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed, setting my plate down in front of me before joining me at the table. “I talked with Clay on the phone this morning.”

“And?” I pried.

“And Opie, Bobby, Tig, I, Clay, and juice will stay behind to help look after everything here, including you, Donna, the kids, and Gemma. And then— well, you know.”

“Okay?”

“I would think Clay would want us to know. I get he wants our reactions to be real, but it’s really strange to keep Gemma in the dark, isn’t it?”

“I know,” he shakes his head, stuffing bacon into his face.

“She’s like the unsung matriarch of the SOA. Is he unaware of the shitstorm he will bring on himself once Gemma finds out he’s keeping her in the dark?”

“Oh, I brought that to his attention too. As has Chibs and Bobby as well.”

“And he still thinks it’s a good idea?”

Jax nods.

“Perhaps jail will be the safest place for him once she finds out, huh?” I said jokingly.

“I’m not so sure three concrete walls and some steel bars would keep Gemma out,” he jokingly responds.

“Well, is the plan definite, or are you still working out the details.”

“Working out the details,” he said with a mouth full of food, “that’s the part we keep getting stuck on.”

“Will you tell me when you know or…?” I asked curiously.

“Of course, darlin’. Look, Opie and I have this worked out; we just need to convince Clay that it’s the right play. At the end of the day, we want to make sure you and Donna are aware of the truth.”

“I appreciate that,” was all I could think to say, being careful not to pry too much. “And Gemma? Are you going to tell her?”

“She’ll be pissed when she finds out we knew, but that’s a bed that Clay has to lay in. It’s not my place.”

“Oh,” I took a bite of my eggs. “Can we afford this?”

“Financially, you don’t need to worry about a thing. Remember that stack of cash in the back of the dresser drawer?”

“Yea. Okay,” I nodded. “Can I ask one more question, if that’s okay?”

He didn’t say anything; he just smiled and squeezed my hand.

“How long?”

“Two months,” he said.

I kept telling myself that it’ll all be over before I knew it, but deep down, I already knew it would feel like an eternity.

#jax teller x disabled reader #jax teller x oc #jax x oc #jax teller fanfiction

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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Secret Door: the one where there's a dinner date and some innuendo

President James Buchanan Barnes is the first president to occupy the White House without a first lady ever since… well, President James Buchanan Barnes. But he’s not too worried about it, since he got his best friend from college acting as his VP, supporting him just like only someone who knew everything about him could do. What happens when feelings from the past start to resurface?

Or the one where you and Bucky used to date but now you got a country to run.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Thank you so much for having dinner with me tonight, doll.” I rested my fork on the plate to reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly as I finished chewing.

“You know you can always count on me, Buck.” The way he looked up at me from under his eyelashes made me feel conflicted - because that’s what he looked like too. Stuck between pain and gratitude, I didn’t want to tap into what could be causing both of those emotions because I knew I’d be able to identify it, and he deserved at least a little bit of privacy.

If he wanted to let me know, he’d tell me.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one I can truly count on.” The way he said it, almost defeated, pulled at my heartstrings until I couldn’t take it anymore. Smiling softly, I rubbed my thumbs on the inside of the wrist I held.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Immediately, his head was shaking.

“Not at all. It’s good to know I can count on you. It makes me happy.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just kept smiling and rubbing his wrist, waiting for more because I knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“Tell me what is really bothering you,” I pressed, anxious to know so I could make him feel better. Even after all this time, all I wanted was to make him feel better, make him smile like the twenty-something boy I used to know him as.

Bucky sighed, fingers running through his hair as he avoided my eyes, but kept his hand in mine. He was finding the courage to speak, I knew that. Eventually, he stopped looking to the side and met my gaze again.

“What if I’m not enough?” It was a question I’d heard multiple times, and that I knew prompted different answers every time. Tonight, I had an inkling as to what he was referring to, but I needed to be sure of it so I could be of any help. “I knew it was going to be hard, now that I’m here I fear I’m going to fail at every turn.”

His beautiful blue eyes sparkled as he confessed what was on his mind, “I don’t want to be a failure.”

“James, pay attention to what I’m going to say.” I didn’t leave any time for him to stew in the difficult words he admitted, wanting to cut the seed of doubt right as it began to flourish. “James, you are not your job.”

He let out a breath that clearly indicated just how much he was keeping inside until that moment, relief finally within his reach at my reminder, so I continued, “The next three years are going to be hard, but if there’s anyone who can do this, that person is you.”

I allowed those words to settle over him like a thick warm blanket of comfort. I liked to think of myself as that blanket for him, and nothing ever made me happier than when I was able to make him feel better.

But it was late, and dinner was over already. So, with one last smile, I squeezed his arm and started to push my chair back so I could get up. James, however, didn’t seem to catch on to my intention (or agree with it) because he took advantage of the connection between out limbs to keep me close.

“Hey, remember how we always wanted to go to Italy?” My eyebrows were furrowed in confusion at his random question, but I smiled at the memory. It was our last year in college, so many plans were made then - plans that disappeared as graduation day approached and I was holding another man’s hand by the end of it.

“Yes, I do.” I’m sure my smile denounced my guilt, even though I knew I’d done nothing wrong. Bucky had been the one to break up with me. I was free to date whomever I wanted, and that’s what I did - even if no one had ever gotten anywhere near the space the man in front of me occupied in my heart.

“We should do that again, once this is all over.” I didn’t remind him that we’d probably be visiting Italy together very soon, in one of our formal encounters with the president of the foreign country. I didn’t remind him because I understood what he meant.

There was something fundamentally different between a work trip as heads of state and a road trip with your best friend.

“Sure.” I smiled, squeezing his hand in the hopes that he’d let me go now. “Let’s do that.” It’s not that I didn’t appreciate his company - he was my favorite person in the entire world - but being alone with him in the dead of night roused some dangerous feelings within me, feelings that I was only really able to keep at bay when the sun high in the sky.

“I should really go now,” I insisted, giggling softly at how he was still trying to keep me close while I slowly made my way to the door. Behind me, he huffed, prompting me to turn around and meet his eyes once more.

“Fine,” he relented, but when he crossed his arms over his chest, I already knew there was a catch. “Will you come and work out with me tomorrow morning?” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me at his invitation.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

I’d been trying to get her to train with me for ages now. Back in college we used to go on runs together, and well… on the evenings, we used to have other ways to burn off some calories.

But she wasn’t big on lifting weights, I knew that. Still, I kept insisting, hoping one day I’d have the pleasure of waking up and feel eager to leave the bed because I knew she’d be waiting for me at the gym.

“You know how much I hate exercising.” She shook her head, giggling, and the wine had gotten to my head, I knew. But it only messed with what was already there - intensifying it, deepening it.

“I remember some physical exercises you liked to do with me.” My voice had dropped a few tones. It had been ages since I used it on her and I was excited to see that it still affected her greatly.

I knew it in my soul. I knew - she still belonged to me. And I think she knew it too, but we were both too scared to take that next step, considering everything that had changed since we were last together.

We weren’t college students anymore. We were in charge of a nation. But I was tired of being scared and most of all - I was tired of being without her.

My eyes were heavy-lidded as I took in the way she was breathing through her mouth. I anticipated her frustration coming through at any second, and sure enough, “You can’t just say stuff like that!”, she complained. But I only chuckled, pressing her against the wall of the dining room, nuzzling her cheek so I could breathe her in.

“Anything to get you to stay a little longer.” I loved the way her skin became covered in goosebumps when my thigh settled between her legs, pressing against her cunt. “You’re the only thing that makes me truly happy these days,” I sighed.

I think it justified the way I craved her so deeply. She was the one sense of normalcy I had in my life, and even when she tried to hold herself back from me, it all took me right back to our college days and how long it took her to cave and go out on a date with me in the first place.

“Do you know how lonely it gets? Waking up every morning without someone to share this burden with?” I confided, rubbing circles on her hips while I tried to get her to look me in the eye again. “I can understand why most presidents had a first lady by their side. I envy them.”

Brushing her hair away from her face, I took in the sight of her with her lips parted, eyelids heavy with desire. How long had it been since I’d seen her like this? Just staring at her made me hot.

“Don’t look at me like that!” She admonished, having realized how I was undressing her with my eyes. A chuckle was all I could offer as a response, as she adjusted herself on my leg to offer, “You know you can share it with me. I’m your vice-president, that’s what I’m here for.”

But I shook my head almost immediately. “It’s not the same,” I whispered, caressing her cheek, eyes never leaving hers for even a second. “You know it’s not the same. If I could have you with me all the time…”

I couldn’t even deal with the possibility, so I just shoved it aside to favor my reality, leaning down to connect our lips for the first time in decades.

“James…” She sighed when we parted, while I rubbed my chapped lips against the soft skin of her shoulder. I knew this was dangerous territory. I knew it.

“Shh…” Tucking my hands beneath her skirt, I rubbed the outside of her thighs, relishing in the feeling of her muscles melting at my pawing. I wanted to distract her from the rational so she could focus on the instinctive calling there was between us, from the day we met.

She’d enchanted me right then, with a single smile, and whatever spell she put on me was nowhere near fading. I, on the other hand, was tired of fighting it.

“Having a hard time controlling your hands, huh?” She teased when I finally reached her ass, massaging it excitedly, using my grip to rub her against my thigh.

“You know they have a mind of their own when it comes to you,” I smirked, kissing her shoulder as I left it to connect our lips again. “One more time, darling,” I begged just as soon as we were forced to part to catch our breaths. “We were so good at it, remember?”

The laugh she let escape brought hope to my heart because it sounded far breathier than her usual chuckles of amusement.

“We have to keep practicing,” I insisted, kissing along her jaw as I kept proposing, “so we won’t forget how to bring each other pleasure… should we ever need it again.”

My muscles were straining in the effort to hold back from her, but I could see my gentle advances were paying out. She was the one rocking her hips along my thigh to get some friction, the hand clasping my shoulder seeming to want to both push me away and pull me closer.

“One more time,” I repeated, right over her ear, running my hands up her body, hoping to see her cave. “Just let me fuck you one more time…”

#my series #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #fluff #politician au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fanfiction

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

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TYRANTS | Chapter Eight - Angels Or Devils

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, tig, usual SOA shit

MASTERLIST

Irked, Chibs stuffed his cellphone into the pocket of his cut with a prolonged fuck to accompany the squelch of glass against leather.

He couldn’t get a firm grip on anything this morning.

Jax was at large, Isla and Tig had rolled onto the lot together looking much, much too comfortable, and Gemma was chewing every goddamn soul’s ear off about her son.

To say that he wanted the day to be over—before it had even commenced—was the understatement of the fucking year.

“Where the hell is he?” Clay barked from the front of the garage, turning to eye Isla directly. “You sure you haven’t seen him?”

“If I knew where he was, I would’ve told you by now.” Her retort was just as curt, prompting Tig to tense in his spot beside her.

He twined his hand around her bicep in order to calm her, but it was no use.

“Well somebody must know where he is—“

“You tried callin’ Tara?” Chibs cut the president off, hoping he’d be able to take some of the heat off of his daughter—the one that seemed to get all of Clay’s Jax-fueled frustrations launched atop her these days.

He just glared at the Scot.

“I can swing by his place? Make sure he ain’t there?” Tig offered.

“He isn’t. Wendy would’ve said.”

“Alright,” the sergeant smacked his lips together. “We’re gonna have to go without him, then.”

Isla hummed, agreeing with Tig.

That forced a vexed snarl from Clay, and she wanted to throttle him for being so fucking haughty today.

“What? He has a point. If we wait around for him, then we’re gonna be late and the other Sons will get to the cemetery before us. Jax knows where we’re going, and what time this fucking funeral starts, so just trust that he’ll be there!”

Her outburst was completely uncharacteristic. It was brash and loud, and Clay realized that her emotions were running a hell of a lot higher today than what they usually would have, so he allowed it to pass.

He cut her some slack because that was what she needed. Isla needed to blow off some steam, to raise her voice and yell out her frustrations because she would’ve let them bubble over, otherwise.

Plus, unbeknownst to him, she had started to take the Mirtazapine that had been prescribed to her, and she still didn’t know how to feel about it.

It was odd. Everything about today, was just fucking odd.

“Kids right.” The rasped acknowledgment came from Happy this time, nodding in her direction with that signature stoic expression he was known to host. “Jax wouldn’t miss this.”

“Alright.” Clay waved a hand tersely before gesturing to the sea of Harley-Davidsons parked side-by-side. “You heard ‘em. Let’s go.”

Tig grabbed at her hand as she went to slip away—exactly like she did to him last night—and pulled her toward him.

The moment didn’t go unnoticed by Clay and her father as they mounted their bikes, sharing the same look that’d been meshed with confusion and concern.

“You good now?”

She nodded, using her pointer finger to twist the crucifix that was sat against her neck, feeling a foreign heat prickle against her cheeks because all eyes were on them.

After turning up together today, people had their suspicions, too.

And those suspicions were mostly held by Chibs and the pres, but it was partly unrest because they both knew what Tig had done—though, Chibs wasn’t officially privy to Clay pulling the strings.

He would be, though. In time, he would find out for himself.

“Gemma and Wendy are heading out in the SUV. Are you going too?” He squinted underneath the sun, pulling his sunglasses from the neck of his shirt.

“I am.” Isla smiled, squeezing Tig’s hand. “Ride safe.”

She stood straight—not having to shift onto her toes because her heels provided some more height—and pressed a dulcet kiss to his cheek.

“Please don’t get into another fight today.” She expressed sadly, lightly ghosting her fingertips over the bruise sitting uncomfortably against his cheekbone. “I don’t think I have it in me to take care of you again.”

“I can’t make any promises.” Her lips curled upward, expressing some sort of smile—though, what with the forthcoming event, she didn’t feel too good about it.

But she remained silent, after that.

Isla got into the car without saying a single word.

The lull was of course grim, but stillness was what the three women needed. It was good for them to sit in complete silence—the only sound coming from the din of the car engine and outside of the vehicle—because it allowed them space to think.

She needed to collect her thoughts this morning, especially after what she had learned last night. Isla didn’t want to think that Jax would have flipped on Tig like that, but it was Jax.

He was unpredictable.

Never once had she felt a sense of outrage that she wasn’t sure how to quell whenever thinking of her best friend, but she was beginning to understand just why Clay was so pissed at his rashness lately.

Even if he was acting on instinct—using his conscience to rule his decisions—Jax was still acting recklessly. His desire to do the morally sound thing outweighed the need that his club had for him to carry out the act that would result in the greater good.

And he was right to stop Tig from pulling the trigger on that girl, but Isla was wary of how he had decided to handle it.

“You didn’t call me last night.” Gemma whispered as the car pulled up to the cemetery gates. “You said that you’d call me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Genuinely, she told her. “When I got in I just went straight to bed, but then Tig turned up at my place and he needed my help, and then—“

“You let him stay.” She finished Isla’s sentence with a hum, providing her with an unusually somber glance. “If there’s anything going on between the two of you, then it’s okay—“

“There isn’t.” Isla shot her down, impatiently waiting for the all-clear to leave the vehicle. “He got hurt last night, needed patching up and didn’t wanna go to the clubhouse in case he saw Jax again, and so he came to me. And, because I’m nice, I let him stay the night.”

“Why wouldn’t he wanna see Jax?”

Wendy’s qualm came unexpectedly. She hadn’t thought that the blonde was listening to the little back and forth.

“Because he was the reason that Tig needed his face fixed.” She spat bitterly when Wendy just blinked at her, hoping to God that they’d be able to get outside soon.

Her irritation with the VP was palpable, and Gemma couldn’t help wondering whether Jax’s stunt had a part to play in why she was so galled when his name was brought up before they left the garage.

Regardless, Isla was getting along with it today. For the sake of Opie and his kids, she was putting her hostility aside and paying her respects to Donna the way that she had always been taught to.

“Woah, what a turn out.” Her admiration for the Sons grew with every single member—every Nomad—that she saw riding along the winding road.

Isla moved between Chibs and Tig, holding tightly onto her father’s hand as they walked toward Donna’s casket.

“Still no Jax.” Almost relieved, Tig noted. “Wonder if he’s gonna ride over with Tacoma.”

“Doubt it.” The Scot added. “He woulda followed us. Dunno where the fuck he’s gotten to.”

“He’ll be here.” She promised hopefully, breaking away from the two men—shaking Chibs off when he held on a little bit tighter, not wanting to let her go.

The black dress she’d thrown on was hardly funeral attire, but the tights hugging her legs underneath the cotton made it a bit better.

Tig watched her pad across the grass and toward Opie, trying to sniff back his own tears at the sight of her taking a long-stemmed blue flower, kissing the petals, and placing it atop the coffin.

It was horrible.

“I’m sorry, Ope.” Isla pressed a kiss to her fingers and ghosted it over the wood, feeling her eyes dampen. “Anything you need—anything at all that you can think of for yourself or your mom or the kids—I’m here. Always.”

He couldn’t quite find the words to thank her, but she knew that he was grateful. Opie didn’t have to say anything for Isla to recognize his appreciation for her, for his family, and for everybody that turned out today.

Jax wasn’t there, though. Not yet.

And, perhaps, Isla being at his side during a time of such harrowing distress was her way of trying to comfort him because his best friend was nowhere to be seen. But she would’ve done it for anybody.

She just wished that it wasn’t Opie.

“I love you…So much.” She whispered through a smile when more people began to filter in, backing away to sit beside Gemma and in front of Tig.

The cool metal of his rings were against her shoulder in an instant, anchoring her back to earth after floating much, much too high above the ground.

She was in a distorted haze, so to speak. Isla’s head wasn’t particularly in the right place today, and it could’ve been down to a multitude of things—but she wanted to simply pin it on her grief.

Chibs saw the way she gnawed into her bottom lip, the way she continually pulled Diane’s crucifix across the golden chain as means of comfort—or, maybe, it was just out of remorse.

He noticed that his daughter—his little girl—peered at Opie’s children sitting beside their grandmother as they said goodbye to the woman that brought them into the world.

He wondered if they understood the weight of it all. They were so young, so impressionable, so innocent, and he saw a lot of Isla in those two kids.

The dull throb of Isla’s heart almost slowed to a halt when the funeral commenced, and Jax was still completely out of sight. Juice held his cut while he stood beside Tara, feeling his chest tighten.

It was difficult to understand just why Jackson Teller didn’t show for such an important moment in Opie’s life.

“I can’t believe him.” Tig hissed out in a whisper, completely ruffled. Isla looked up at the man behind her, holding a dainty hand on top of his. “I can’t fucking believe him.”

He didn’t know what to say. Clay didn’t, either. As he stood beside his Sgt. At Arms and peered down at the disheveled blonde, Clay Morrow struggled to find the words to elucidate his disdain for the lack of action from his step-son.

Donna was family. Opie was family. Family was meant to be there for one another, not purposely ignoring such a pivotal event.

“He’ll be here.” Isla repeated her promise, melting into her space as Tig leant over to kiss the top of her head.

Her eyes glazed over instantaneously, coercing her to turn away before she broke down.

But she leaned backward into his embrace, and watched the ceremony commence.

And it only took a handful of moments for her mood to perk up—as much as it could have under the circumstances—but she was conceivably happier at the sight before her.

“I told you.” She mumbled. She refused to let up her grip on Tig, though, holding onto him firmer now.

It was comfortable. He was comfortable.

“What the fuck…”

Jax looked like hell. Still wearing last night’s clothes—still bloodied and bruised from his scuffle—he sauntered over the grass and made a beeline for Tara.

Isla’s throat hitched.

“Did you do that to him?” She mumbled in reference to the slit in his lip, craning her neck to eye the blue-eyed man.

“Yeah, probably.”

She just shook her head with a tiny smirk, shifting her focus back to the asshole that was taking his sweet fucking time.

It didn’t upset her as much as she thought that it would’ve, watching him go back to her like that. If anything, she was glad that they had managed to reconcile because she made him happy.

But, for a reason unbeknownst to herself, she felt bad for Wendy.

To watch the father of her newborn take his cut from a woman that’d only been back in his life for five minutes, to hold and kiss her in front of everyone, was something she shouldn’t have had to witness today.

They weren’t together, but she knew how that was bound to hurt—to sting and incapacitate her because it was all still so fucking raw.

Poor Wendy.

He took one of the flowers away from the sparse pile, holding it to his lips, and placed it atop Donna’s casket.

Jax glared over his shoulder, shooting the two guilt-ridden men a look that read fury. He made sure that Isla wasn’t looking at him when he did that, though.

He refused to look at her.

And he didn’t stay, either. He paid his respects for all of thirty seconds before stalking away, and leaving the most egregious of tastes on the tip of each tongue.

The funeral flew by, after that.

Before Isla knew it, she was dismounting Tig’s bike outside of T M—again—and stumbling over her heels when she couldn’t quite find her footing. She’d been in a world of her own for the last fifteen minutes.

“You want me to get you a beer?” She asked, handing him her helmet. “Or did you want some of that wine you like?”

He snorted at her taunt, taking it from her. “Beer—but none of that shit Bobby drinks.”

Isla chuckled, backing away from the bike and Tig.

“You want a drink, too?” She asked Clay when he strode over, hands in his pockets.

He nodded, waiting for her to slip out of sight before turning his attention to his Sergeant.

“What’s going on with you two?” Clay asked him accusingly, snatching Tig’s attention from the blonde who was ambling into the clubhouse.

He waved the pres off, lighting a cigarette. “Nothing, man. She’s just been helpin’ me out—“

“That’s what you’re calling it now, huh?”

“That’s what it is.” Tig shrugged, exhaling the smoke from his nostrils. “Y’know what she’s like. She sees someone that needs patchin’ up, and she does it. That’s all.”

Unconvinced, Clay leaned closer to him—striving for the little moment to go unnoticed by those that shrouded the lot. Jax and Tara, for one.

“That’s Chibs’s kid. You be careful.”

“Ain’t nothing to be careful about, brother.” Tig ground his lips together, squinting upward as he rested against his bike. “We’re just friends.”

“You stayed the night with her.”

“Yeah—“

“Twice.”

“Clay—“

“In the same fucking bed!” He snapped, running a hand over his face.

His desire to protect the women in his life—to assert the dominance he had, or his authority—was remarkably overbearing at the best of times.

Isla and Gemma didn’t particularly need to be coddled the way that they’d always been at the hands of Clay Morrow and his club, but they were.

And the thought of his sleaziest, loathsome, savage brother getting closer and closer to that woman churned his stomach. Because he knew what Tig was capable of—what he did—and would be damned if anything were to happen to her at the hands of Tig fucking Trager.

Chibs would kill him, too.

“Nothing happened, nothing’s currently happening, and nothing will happen.” He guaranteed. “Clay, I swear.”

“Alright.” Dubious, the older man responded. “But, if there is, then you be careful. Jax is onto us, and it’s only a matter of time before Isla puts two and two together—‘cuz she ain’t stupid.”

Be careful. Be careful. Be careful.

How about you shut the fuck up?

“I know she isn’t.” Almost irked that Clay would assume he thought that, he retorted. “But she’s got shit going on too, man, I don’t think she’s gonna be focusing on this right now so you don’t gotta worry.”

“Alright.” Clay repeated himself.

He didn’t think that his right-hand was telling him the truth, but he couldn’t exactly do anything about that until an issue arose.

What he did know, though, was that Tig Trager would’ve had some serious hell to pay if he had ignited something with Isla right now.

Or ever, really.

“Keep Jax away from her.” He told Clay, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “She’s pissed at him for what he did to me last night.”

“What’d he do?”

Tig pointed at the cuts on his cheek, grimacing. “She’s fucked off, and if they talk she’s probably gonna throw something at him.”

“Eh. Let her.” Clay waved him off, hastily shutting himself up when he heeded her heels clicking across the gravel toward them. “He needs to be humbled sometimes.”

The rivalry between the two had only intensified since Abel was born and Jax’s priorities shifted from the club.

His family came first. His biological family came first.

And maybe Clay didn’t understand the implications and responsibilities that came along with fatherhood because he’d never had that bestowed upon him, but Jax did.

He knew that he had to provide for his kid, for the one being that was solely dependent on him, and he would never compromise or jeopardize that.

Things weren’t going to be made easy for the man, however.

“Budweiser for you.” Isla smiled, handing a bottle to Tig. She passed one to Clay, holding onto it a little firmer as she offered it to him. “And one for you—but you need to take this, and go see your wife.”

“Why?” Hesitantly, he accepted the alcohol.

Isla shrugged. “She just wants to see you. Seems important.”

“Shit.” Clay hissed, taking a long swig before striding away.

She watched him stamp toward the clubhouse, heeding the change in his mood, and wondered why Gemma was so determined to talk to him at that specific moment.

It could’ve been anything with that woman, really. It could’ve been something so minor, completely insignificant, that Gemma had to get off her chest.

Or it could’ve been something along the lines of elucidating the bone-crushing lament that she held for both her husband and Tig.

Whatever it was, however, Clay wasn’t excited to face her.

“What’d he chew your ear off about?” Isla asked, struggling to open her beer. She sighed, suddenly remembering why she loved her screw-top bottles of wine so much.

“Pass it to me.” Tig took it from her, using his own bottle cap to pop hers off. He chuckled at her grimace, handing it back.

“Thanks.” She groaned, lifting it upward. “So…What did Clay want?”

Budweiser blanketed Tig’s tongue and lips as he pulled the drink away from his mouth, using the back of his hand to rub at the excess.

Quickly, he wondered whether lying to Isla—fabricating the truth and downplaying his superior’s concern—was in his best interest.

But she was perceptive. There was no doubt that she’d realize he was lying to her.

“He thinks that something is going on between us.”

She rolled her eyes, taking a pull.

“What?” A little nervous—on edge, perhaps—Tig asked her. “Did you already know that he felt that way?”

“No.” Instantly, she retorted. “I didn’t know about Clay, but Gemma feels the same. D’ya think they’ve talked?”

“Oh, definitely.” With a small glower, he told her.

They absolutely talked about the two, and that was what worried Tig.

There was nothing wrong with them colluding against the pair, as a rule. He wasn’t offended at the thought, he felt quite honored actually.

But it was the connotation that came alongside those conspiracies. The idea that Tig was only so friendly—so supportive and loving—toward Isla because he wanted one thing from her.

And, really, Tig hadn’t pondered that thought before. Well, not before last night, anyway.

For the first time—possibly ever—sex wasn’t on Tig’s agenda with Isla. Enticing her, breaking her heart, and sending her on her way was not something he wanted.

But Tig was renowned for that, wasn’t he? He was known for being a hapless bachelor. A man whose priorities were neither here nor there.

Everyone just expected that. They saw him with her, and came to that one conclusion.

Maybe Isla expected it a little bit, too. Because she’d known him long enough to understand the kind of man that he was—or had the propensity to be—and she could hardly lie and say that this version of Tig didn’t confuse her.

He’d always been the same with her, though. Perhaps that’d been the difference between every woman that entered and left his life, and Isla Telford.

He wasn’t interested in her. Like that.

“Does that bother you?” With an almost undetectable twinge of hurt, Isla asked.

As if it was a basic instinct, Tig shook his head. “Nah. They talk shit all the time. Stuff like that don’t bother me.”

She nodded, refusing to add anything else. Isla sipped her beer, hoping that the ground would open up and swallow her fucking whole.

There wasn’t a single word in the English language that’d ascribe her feeling at that precise time, but ashamed was possibly the closest she could’ve gotten.

And, still, that was a little bit further off the mark than what she would’ve liked. Because she wasn’t entirely ashamed for reacting the way that she had, more so the way that she fucking felt.

Isla’s heart took a blow when Tig told her that.

For why, though? She wasn’t sure.

It might’ve been the nonchalant expression. The complete colorless response that stirred a foreign emotion within her—striking hard against her chest.

Or, it might’ve been what he had said. It was such a casual proclamation. Something that didn’t mean anything, but everything simultaneously.

She didn’t feel anything for Tig. She didn’t particularly want to feel anything for him, either, but that hurt. A lot.

“Same, to be honest.” She lied, forcing her lips upward in a smile. “Gemma is always on my case about this sorta thing. But I just let it go over my head.”

“Always?”

“Yup. Always.” Isla mentioned around the protruding lump in her throat. “If she’s not talking about me and you—like there is a me and you—she’s talking about me and Jax. And if it isn’t that, she’s bitching about Wendy, or Tara, or just anything she can think of.”

Like there is a me and you.

Tig sniffed a little, nodding. He didn’t want Isla to think that bothered him, but it did. A bit, anyway.

“She’s so overbearing, sometimes.” Genuinely slumped, she stated. Isla leaned against the railing beside Tig’s bike, finally looking at him. “Don’t tell her I said that?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He chuckled, taking another swig. “I’d never purposely get you into shit with your mother—“

“She’s not my mother.” Her eyes rolled. “She acts like it, and I love her like one, but she is not my mother.”

Tig knew. He knew all too well just how Isla felt about that, and he wasn’t exactly sure why he said that to her, today.

Gemma was the best woman she knew and the one that, strangely, brought her all of the comfort and prosperity that she’d craved.

But she wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t close to being Diane, and maybe the comparison between the pair hurt a little. Because Gemma Teller-Morrow was nothing like Diane Telford—and the sooner everybody knew that, the sooner Isla could rest.

“I feel bad talking shit about her. All she’s done is help me.”

“And parent you.” He reminded her, tipping his bottle upward. “She parents all of us, but what I mean is she treats you like a kid sometimes. Jax, too.”

“Yeah. I know.” Peeved, she conceded. “But, what can I do? if I wanna keep her around—keep having her so close to me—then, I guess I’ve gotta make a few sacrifices. And, I mean, it’s not all bad.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not. I’m glad that she’s the woman that took a shine to me. If Luann ended up being the one…”

Tig smirked, sizing her up. “You’d probably be doing porn right now.”

“Exactly.” Without shame—not even feeling slightly bashful at the glance she was receiving—she said. “I don’t think I’d hate doing porn, but I don’t think SAMCRO would be thrilled.”

“Absolutely not. Chibs would kill you, for one.”

“And Gemma.”

“Clay, too.” Tig added, withering at the thought.

“What about you?” A little too bold, she asked.

Though their relationship was of the lighthearted nature, Isla wasn’t certain that the habitual riposte was a thing as of late. His response would probably jar her, she thought.

“I wouldn’t hate it.”

She halted, blushing at his words. Her ears prickled with heat, too.

“It’d be hot.” He shrugged, putting his empty bottle against the ground. “I’m sure Juice would love it, too—“

“Oh, get fucked.” She snorted a laugh, throwing the red cap at his chest as he got to his feet. It bounced off the fabric of his shirt, coercing a chuckle from Tig.

“It was only one time.” He taunted, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “That’s still one more time than most chicks ‘round here.”

“He wasn’t awful.” Isla shrugged. “He knew what he was doing, and I had fun. But, like, he hasn’t got any hair…”

“Hair?” Tig began to gesture downward, chuckling when she grabbed his hands to stop him.

“I don’t mean that. I mean hair on his head, Tig.” She calmed her laughter, letting go of him. “I like to tug on it, I guess.”

It felt somewhat illegal, obtaining this information from her.

He already knew that she was a sex fiend, that she liked it rough, and now that she had some kind of hair-pulling kink.

Tig’s chest tightened. So did his pants.

“Duly noted.” Like usual, he quipped. Tig motioned for Isla to head inside with him when he heeded things heating up between Jax and Tara.

She, as always, made a mental note to grill her friend later. Or, maybe, her friends. Because she and Tara were on that level, now, and she felt that things could’ve sailed smoothly between herself and the doctor.

Isla just hoped that she’d open up to her.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” He asked, reading her fucking mind. “I know that you two talk a lot.”

“Probably.” Her shrug was insouciant. “But I’ll leave it a while, I think. Leave the dust to settle over before I approach either one of them.”

Tig’s heart began to thrash. It battered viciously within the constraints of his chest, thumping at an unsteady rhythm the more Isla babbled on as they neared the clubhouse.

It was maiming him, having to keep this to himself.

He knew that concealing it—the weight of it all—was for the best. It’d guarantee peace and conformity within the club and Isla’s life, but it was also a crippling guilt that not even Tig was sure he’d be able to hold forever.

Clay was heartless, though. The nefarious leader hadn’t a single problem with lying through his fucking teeth, and Tig was more than aware that Clay would continue the charade if and when he decided that he could no longer.

He supposed he could thank him for that.

But, then again, he was also the reason that Tig Trager had found himself tangled within yet another web of lethal falsehoods. Thanking Clay was the very last thing that he wanted to do.

“Oh, shit.” Isla stated through partially gritted teeth. She gestured to her father and Happy’s scorned glares. “Why do I keep getting this fucking look from everyone?”

“It’s not you. It’s me.” He snorted another laugh, taking her hand and walking her further into the room after she stopped completely dead.

Really, Donna’s wake was as vibrant as it could’ve been and nobody—aside from Isla’s old man and the Tacoma Nomad—had their sights set on the Sergeant and Chibs’s daughter.

The atmosphere was strangely spirited, hearty and animated as everybody came together to celebrate the life of Opie’s wife…The way that they always had.

But Isla was still on tenterhooks. She loathed the thought of her dad disapproving of her, today, but she didn’t desire the castigation that would’ve come hand in hand with her need to talk to him.

“Tequila?”

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” She smiled at Tig, making a beeline for the bar when she saw Kip. He followed her.

“You’re turning down free alcohol?”

Isla scoffed. “It might be free, but the effects of it would cost me my fucking reputation here.”

Tig’s eyebrows raised. “How so? You don’t not drink, Isla.”

“I know.” Her lips pursed, watching Kip pop the caps off of six beers. “But I never drink tequila. It makes me…uh…it makes me feel a little hot—“

“Tequila turns you on, is what you’re saying.”

“Well, yeah.” A crimson blush bled over her cheeks, her nose, and even across her forehead as her entire face burned red. “It’s no big deal. Just something I discovered after getting black-out drunk when I’d barely turned twenty-one.”

If Tig wasn’t feeling aroused before, then he definitely was at her admission. He had to think of anything to throw his brain off of that mental image.

“I don’t tend to drink the strong stuff.”

“Unless it’s whiskey.”

She pointed with a smile, nodding her head. “That’s right—“

“Hey, what did you want?” Kip interrupted sheepishly, gesturing to the half-empty bottle she had between her fingertips. “Another Bud?”

“Yes, please.” Again, she smiled.

“Same for you?”

Tig nodded.

“Kip,” she began, “and you take something, too. You’ve dealt with these assholes for long enough, now. Take a break. I’ll man the bar if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that—Gemma’ll kill me—“

“With all due respect, fuck Gemma.” She heard Tig chuckle beside her, shrugging when the prospect glanced at the pair nervously. “She won’t say anything if I tell her that I’m the one that told you to take ten minutes away from the bar.”

“Yeah.” He backed her up, grinning. “She never gets mad at Isla.”

It was completely uncharacteristic of him. But she brought something out from the very chasms of Tig Trager’s cold, black heart, and he lauded that.

Not many people had managed to scrape beneath the surface that way, not even Colleen.

God.

Tig shook himself out of the daze he’d slipped into, watching Isla and Kip trade places as she stepped behind the bar, and he made a beeline for a stool.

He’d been standing for a while, now.

“Are you gonna join me behind here?” She asked, drawing Tig’s attention back to her. Isla held up another bottle for him, twinkling underneath the yellowed light above the liquor shelves.

She looked, almost, angelic.

“Sack—“ Tig grabbed at his arm when he tried to leave his seat, feeling the prospect go rigid under his grip.

Isla’s eyebrows bunched together.

“Take two beers for Hap and Chibs.” He released the grey shirt, grinning as he saw the man sweat—clearly anticipating something more than just doing a simple favor.

“Oh, sure.” Kip breathed a sigh of relief, taking the two bottles that Isla had slid toward him. “That all?”

“Yep.” She added, gesturing for him to get on his way and enjoy the break that he’d been appointed.

He headed toward the two men beside the pool table, handing them their beers and pointing toward Tig. He waved with a small smile—hoping to come off as genuine, rather than scheming.

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Giving the two men a couple of beers to throw them off the scent—or, at least, to distract them from making a fuss—was just a ploy to defer attention from the two nestled amongst the alcohol.

And it seemed to work, too.

As Tig walked around the bar to join her on the other side, Isla popped a few bottle caps, mixed a few drinks, and talked to every person that stopped off in front of the oak, without being so much as glanced at by her father.

Gemma hadn’t noticed the change, either.

“You want anything?” She asked Tig, mindlessly pouring a glass of whiskey for one of the Tacoma guys. “Some tequila?”

Indifferently, he shrugged.

“Okay, well that was helpful.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, grabbing two shot glasses, “I’ll take one, if you do, too.”

“Tig.”

“Isla.” His tone was deriding, though she couldn’t help but smile.

She pushed the whiskey toward the unfamiliar Son, thanking him for showing his face today, and turned her attention back to Tig.

In the thirty seconds in which her focus had been diverted, he’d poured two shots, grabbed some salt, and two lime wedges from underneath the counter.

She swallowed thickly, hoping to god she’d be able to play off the effects of that liquor.

Because it was only the one, wasn’t it? She was only going to have one single shot of tequila and, surely, that wasn’t enough to intoxicate her…

Right?

“Aw, fuck.” She slurred, pushing the empty bottle aside. “I really—“ she hiccuped. “I really need to stop drinking.”

“Why?” Just as garbled, he responded.

“‘Cuz I feel like I’m gonna puke.” She snorted a laugh, pushing all of the limes strewn across the redwood into the bin. “And my breath stinks of tequila.”

He waved her off, looking at his chest as he wiped the alcohol from his leathers. “Tequila don’t smell that bad.”

Isla blushed, though she fished around her purse for some gum, regardless.

And her heart fucking plummeted to the pit of her stomach when she noticed the bottle of antidepressants in the smaller compartment, suddenly realizing that her excessive alcohol consumption tonight was for sure going to mess with her.

Shit.

“Water?” He asked, holding two empty glasses. He heeded the dread in her expression, how she looked like she’d seen a fucking ghost.

“Please.”

Tig handed her one of the glasses, slinging his free arm over her shoulder—mainly in an attempt to stabilize her—and padded over to the kitchen.

The clubhouse was a little more sparse, now. Jax and Tara sat alongside Juice, Chibs, and Happy, meanwhile Gemma and Clay were meters apart from one another.

But nobody seemed to notice the lack of manpower behind that bar, which was a wonderful thing. Because Isla feared that she might’ve collapsed had she not hydrated herself.

She feared that she might’ve said, or done, something that she might’ve regretted, too.

Tequila did make her feel “hot”, after all.

“God, I need this so bad.” She practically moaned, twisting the cold water tap, haphazardly holding her glass underneath it.

Isla didn’t even shut the water off, she just chugged that slightly lukewarm—strangely beautiful—liquid like her life depended on it.

“Fuck.” She gasped for air, putting her glass atop the draining board. “Oh my god, that was so fucking good.”

Tig watched in awe.

As droplets of water trickled from her lips, and chin, to her chest, Tig subtly groaned to himself. He stifled a reaction, however.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, hell yeah.” She nodded.

Tig held her glass underneath the tap again, filling it half way. “You want some more?”

Isla took it from him, cocking her head a little when he didn’t let go of the glass. “What?”

“How’d that tequila make you feel?”

“What?” She repeated herself, forgetting about what she told him earlier. “Oh…”

“How’d it make you feel?” He pressed, releasing his grip though lifting his hand to brush his thumb underneath her glossy lips.

“Good.” Isla stumbled over her words, watching his eyes flick over her features. She gulped, though she put the glass straight back down. “Really, really good.”

Tig jolted, though relaxed when she let her hands rest against his shoulders. He hadn’t expected this today. Or ever, really.

“How good is really really good?” He asked, twisting a couple of ringed fingers through long, loose curls.

Her heart was no longer sinking to the pit of her stomach, but fluttering wildly within her palpitating chest.

“Pretty good.”

“Right.” He caught her bluff, nodding. “I could think of something that’d make you feel really, really, really good, y’know?”

“You think?” Isla leaned into him when a hand pressed into the small of her back, and the other holding onto the nape of her neck. She shivered. “Because I think you could.”

Confidently, he bobbed his head. “Oh, I could.”

She was a bundle of nerves, frankly. Tig was so nonchalant, so breezy, and she was just so fucking fraught.

But he didn’t seem to notice—or care—while he surveyed her face, grinding his lips together in anticipation. He lowered his head a little to meet her height, though she still stood on her toes.

“Make me feel really good, Tig.” She whispered, the citrusy scent of tequila permeating his senses, quickening the rate of his pulse.

Isla’s sweet, soft lips ghosted over his own as she exuded a satisfied sigh, loosening up at the feeling of their noses brushing over one another.

It was so gentle. She hasn’t expected a man of such stature, such hunger and animosity, to be capable of something so soothing.

An unmistakable burst of desire started to seep through her, humming against his lips as she opted to wrap both arms around his neck while he backed her up against the sink.

With the support against her lower back, Isla wound a leg around his waist as the kiss amplified and Tig began to grind his hips into her whilst simultaneously moaning.

She didn’t know how badly she needed this tonight.

Pink nails wound into his unruly curls, mindlessly nudging through the hair—pushing him to hasten. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, then. Lauding the flavor of tequila and cigarettes.

But Isla promptly froze at the sound of footsteps—heels, precisely—clicking across the tile.

“Tig, wait.” She jerked her head a little, urging him to stop. “I can hear Gemma—“

“You can see her, too.” The matriarch stated, rounding the corner and immediately coming into Isla’s line of sight.

Both Tig and the blonde shifted to look at her.

“Am I interrupting something?”

#tig trager #tig trager x oc #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc

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noladyme · 3 years

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La Cuervo - Chapter 3

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

Bishop was standing outside the clubhouse, smoking a cigarette, when they rolled in. Nina got off the bike, feeling strangely like a teenager caught breaking curfew. She nodded at the president, and was about to move towards the trailer, when Angel grabbed her hand, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for… last night”, he said. “You too”, Nina said. He gave her a crooked smile, and was about to say something else, when Bishop called out for him. “Angel… Inside. We need to talk”. Angel nodded. “Daddy’s angry”, he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Yeah”, she replied, and Angel walked off.

“Yo, sweetheart!”, Bishop called after her, as she once again moved towards the trailer. Nina sighed, and turned to look at him. “I made a promise to Chibs. When you pull a stunt like this, you make it really fucking hard to keep that promise”. Angel halted behind his president, a confused look on his face. “I didn’t leave without a patch”, Nina replied. “Followed your rules”. Bishop narrowed his eyes at her. “His patch ain’t the one you should be worried about…”. Nina swallowed hard, and nodded; though slightly confused at his words. “Ok. Sorry”. Bishop’s expression softened. “Look, just… be careful, ok?”. Nina nodded, and he smirked slightly. “You know, you’re lucky I make him get tested every two weeks”. Angel frowned, and Nina chuckled; before finally turning around, and walking over to the trailer, letting herself inside.

She quickly got dressed in clean clothes. The heat hadn’t exactly waned, so Nina decided to switch jeans for shorts and a top. She reminded herself to ask someone about taking her to a laundromat; not having packed a lot. She’d been told to leave her small apartment at home in as normal a state as possible. In case someone did come looking for her, SAMCRO didn’t want to let them know she’d run. She picked up her jacket to hang it, and a shudder went through her body, as she fished her .38 out of the pocket. It felt heavier than it should, in spite of its smallness, and she felt bile rise in her throat. A hard knock on the door made her jolt, and she quickly hid the gun under her helmet; before she went over to open. EZ was standing outside, with a friendly smile on his face. “’Morning”, he said. “It is”, Nina replied. “I got breakfast-burritos in the clubhouse”, he offered. Nina shook her head with a smile. “You didn’t need to do that”. “I know what’s in my brother’s fridge. I doubt he fed you”, EZ grinned. “Come on”.

She followed the prospect back to the clubhouse, where EZ gestured for her to take a seat by a table. Nina noticed the ginger woman Coco had been spending time with the night before, was seated by the bar; legs crossed and tits pushed out, smiling at the biker, who was trying to ignore her, and focus on his game of pool with Gilly. EZ put a plate on the table in front of Nina, with a delicious smelling burrito. “Gabby… She’s a good cook”, he said, his voice adoring. Nina bit in to it, and couldn’t do anything but agree. “This is delicious. Tell her thanks”, she smiled.

The door to templo opened, and Bishop came out with Taza, Riz and Angel in tow. “She’s business, Angel. You treat her like any other business we have going on”, Bishop said, and walked over to the bar, accepting a beer from the girl behind it. “You wouldn’t shove your dick down the barrel of an mk47, would you?”, Taza asked. Angel stood with his back to Nina, not having noticed her. “It wouldn’t fit, anyway”, he shrugged. “Just, don’t complicate things”, Bishop said. “Bish, it ain’t like that”, Angel said. Bishop looked at him in disbelief. “We fucked, yeah; but…”. Taza noticed Nina watching them, and patted Angel’s shoulder. He turned around, and locked eyes with her; looking like a handsome deer caught in headlights.

Nina looked down, and chewed her lips. At least they were on the same page, she tried to convince herself. She didn’t know Angel from the next guy; all she did know, was that he was damn good in bed, and liked beers, babes and bikes. They’d had sex, that was it. Still, she couldn’t help but feel his words chafe a bit. There was a long moment of silence, before Nina decided to put Angel – and herself– out of their misery. “I was bored, and his shower has good pressure”, she said. Angel let out an embarrassed laugh, and shrugged, while his friends shook their heads, letting a roaring laughter fill the room.

Everyone went about their biker business, and Nina went back to her breakfast; having lost most of her appetite. She wrapped up the burrito, and pushed away the plate. A mug of coffee was set down in front of her, and she looked up to meet EZ’s apologetic eyes. “I’m… sorry, about that”, he muttered. “My brother… he’s a good guy, but…”. “I know how it is. Don’t worry about it”, she smiled in reply. “How is it, then?”, Angel asked, having walked over to them. EZ left them to it. “I got an itch scratched, and you got your dick wet. Life goes on”, Nina said. Angel made a labored sigh, and scratched his bearded chin. “Look, Nina. I’m…”. She got on her feet, and put a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Angel. We’re good”, she smiled, and got on her toes, to kiss his cheek; doing her best to avoid enjoying his scent. “We had fun”. He chewed his lip for a moment. “Yeah, we had fun…”. Taza called for him, and Angel took a step back. “I gotta go take care of something. See you around, Nina”. He went off to talk to the VP.

Nina took a few sips of her coffee, before walking over to get behind the bar. She smiled friendlily at the blonde girl standing there – the same girl, in fact, that Angel had turned down the night before – who looked at her indifferently, and handed her a rag to wipe down the counter. This was familiar territory, and she smiled to herself, as she handed a pair of cold ones to Gilly and Coco; who’d finished their game, and came over to the bar. The redhead immediately pressed up against Coco, who looked like he wanted to dig himself into a deep hole. “Can I get you anything else, baby?”, she asked, making clear her intentions. “Nah, I’m good. Let me talk to my brothers for a moment, yeah?”, he replied. “Sure… I’m just gonna go fix my lipstick”, the woman winked at him, and walked towards the bathroom. “When’s the wedding?”, Gilly asked. “Fuck you”, Coco snarled, before nodding at Letty, who’d just walked in the door – looking hungover. “I can’t get her to leave”. “Who?”, Letty asked, and accepted a coke from Nina. “Just some chick. I told her the deal, but it’s like she didn’t hear me”, Coco said.

Letty rolled her eyes, and gave the woman a once over, as she came back from the bathroom. When she was once again pressed against Coco – who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second – Letty took pity on him, and walked over to the pair; putting her head on Coco’s shoulder. “Are you my new mommy?”, she smiled innocently at the ginger; who froze in place. Suddenly, it was like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “Sorry, I gotta go”, she muttered, and scuttered of in haste. Coco smiled crookedly, and shook his head. “You’re crazy, mija”, he said. “Nah, I just don’t want a stepmom, who wears that shade of lipstick”, Letty said, and went back to her coke.

Bishop cleared his throat. “Well, if everyone’s got their dicks back in their pants, we got some business to tend to”, he said. The Mayans all scattered, and went to their respective jobs around the yard, and wherever else they went, when they did their business.

---

Nina spent the rest of the day getting her bearings around the scrap-yard, and its office. Chucky’s filing-system might have seemed chaotic to anyone else, but Nina knew it well, and was happy to be occupied with something other than thinking about a certain Mayan and his well-shaped body – especially how it looked naked. A gorgeous Latina girl showed up in the afternoon, carrying a fantastic smelling bag of Tupperware, and looking for EZ; and Nina was finally introduced to the person who had made her delicious breakfast. She immediately understood why EZ was smitten with Gabby, and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them dancing around each other like a pair of puppies in love. They took off after an hour or so, so EZ could drive Gabriella home. He returned with the largest smile she’d ever seen on anyone’s face, and went straight to work on a road king in the garage.

During dinner, feasting on Gabby’s delicious tamales with EZ, Nina asked about laundromats. “There’s one, but there’s only one functioning dryer, and it smells like feet”, EZ said. “I can wait a few days, but I still need to go at some point”, Nina said. “And I need to get a prescription filled. That’s kind of urgent”. Her inhaler was almost empty, she’d realized that morning. A roar of bikes came from outside, and Nina got on her feet, taking the plates to wash them behind the bar. EZ followed her, nodding at Bishop, Riz and Angel, as they entered the clubhouse. “Drug-stores round here are closed at this time of night, but I’ll ask Bishop if I can take you in the morning”, he said. Nina groaned, and looked out the corner of her eye at the president. “It’s like needing a fucking hall-pass if I even think about leaving this place”, she muttered. EZ chuckled, and wiped off the plates after she’d washed them. “Yeah, why is that? Are you on the run from the cops or something?”. Nina looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling the need to wash them thoroughly. Scrubbing them hard under the tap, she shrugged indifferently. “Chibs is just protective, I guess. And I hear this area is overrun by outlaw bikers”. “You know it!”, Riz exclaimed, having arrived at the counter with Angel. “Coffee, please; sweetheart. I’m gonna be spending the night prepping for the run tomorrow”. Nina poured Riz a mug, and looked at Angel. “Dos Equis”, he said, his demeanor cool. Nina served him the beer, avoiding eye-contact.

“Do you need me for the run tomorrow?”, EZ asked. “No. Why?”, Riz asked. “Nina needs to take care of some stuff in town, and I was gonna take her”. Angel took a sip of his beer, and looked between Nina and EZ. “What stuff?”, he said with an edge to his voice. EZ scoffed, and shook his head. “Bro, come on…”, he said. Riz raised his brows, and backed away from the counter; obviously uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. “The drug-store, Angel. And then we might go have an orgy; I haven’t decided yet”, Nina said sarcastically. Angel raised his hands in mock defeat. “Hey, Bish told us to look out for you. I’m just keeping my eyes on business here”. “Yeah… I’m gonna turn in. See you tomorrow, EZ”. The prospect looked at her apologetically. “I’ll talk to Bishop”, he said. Nina nodded, and walked towards the door.

A strong hand grabbed her lower arm before she could walk outside. Nina scowled up at Angel, who looked remorsefully at her. “I’m sorry, Nina. That was shitty of me”, he said. “Don’t worry about it. You should be sorrier about suggesting that your brother would cheat on his girlfriend”, she replied. Angel looked back at EZ, and nodded solemnly. “Yeah. I know”, he muttered. “Are we good, cuervo?”. “Of course”, Nina said. “Goodnight, Angel”. She pulled out of his grasp, and left the clubhouse.

---

The next day, Taza, Riz, Creeper, Angel and Coco got on their bikes, and in a van, to go north for the SAMCRO-delivery. “Say hi to Rat and Quinn for me, would you?”, Nina said from the porch, unable to hide the sadness in her voice. “Will do”, Taza promised, and started his bike. “Let’s not keep reaper waiting”. Angel sent Nina a slight smile, before Coco patted his shoulder to make him start the van.

EZ had managed to convince Bishop of the urgency of Nina’s drug-store run, and after helping out at the office for a few hours, she got on the back of his bike, to have him take her in to town. Angel had lied about his brother’s ability to ride with a passenger – a fact that didn’t surprise Nina, by the way – because he was probably the safest driver she’d ever ridden with. Overly safe, some might say. The prospect avoided every bump, and kept well bellow the speed-limit all the way.

After Nina had used her fake ID – No paper trail, luv, Filip had said – to get her new inhaler, EZ asked if she’d be ok with a short stop by his pap’s. Nina couldn’t say no to meeting the elder Reyes; curious to see what kind of man had sired two such different men. Seeing Gabriella behind the counter of Felipe Reyes’ butcher-shop, Nina understood the prospect’s real reason for wanting to visit his father; though there was no lack of love between him and Felipe, that much was evident by the way they looked at each other.

“She’s playing pop-music again, Ezekiel”, Felipe said, gesturing at a small stereo that was blaring the charts, as he came over to greet his son. “Amas mi musica”, Gabby grinned. “Hi, Nina”. “Hey, Gabby. Thanks for all the food!”, Nina replied with a smile. “You’re welcome”. After EZ had kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, he gestured towards Nina. “Pap, this is Nina. She’s new in town”. Felipe shook Nina’s hand. “Is my boy giving you a tour of the potholes?”, he asked. “No, he’s the most boring biker I’ve ever ridden with”, she replied with a smile, getting a guffawing laughter from the man. “See, EZ? I told you!”, Gabby grinned. “Hey!”, EZ laughed. “I’m just safe”. “Boring!”, Gabby said.

As EZ and Gabriella went to whisper sweet nothings behind the counter, Nina went to examine the bookcase Felipe had exhibited in his shop. “Looking for some light reading?”, Felipe asked. “Always… And, giving the lovebirds some space”, Nina replied, and looked towards the smiling pair behind the counter. She picked up a picture of two smiling boys, each on a bicycle; smiling proudly at the camera. For a second, she felt a sting in her heart. “That’s EZ”, Felipe said, and pointed at the smaller boy. “And the other one is my eldest”. “Angel”, Nina said. Felipe chuckled. “You’ve met him”, he said. “I’m staying at the scrapyard”, she replied. Felipe raised a brow at her. “You’re the one who has EZ sleeping on my couch”. Nina felt her cheeks beginning to burn, and put down the picture again. “Yeah, I’m… sorry”, she said. “Don’t be. It’s good to have him home at least some of the time. That… club, takes up a lot of his time”. Nina chewed her lips for a moment. “You don’t like the club”, she said. Felipe met her eyes for a second, looking tired suddenly. “Sorry, it’s not my place”, she muttered. “No… No, it’s alright”, he said, a smile forcing it’s way onto his face. “I suppose all parents have higher hopes for their children, than…”. “Riding around on motorbikes, and wearing leather in the 100 degrees desert sun?”, Nina said, returning his smile. “That too”, Felipe said. “Are you what they call a… hangaround?”. Nina’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. “Pap, that’s rude”, EZ said, having joined them by the bookcase. “I’m sorry, Nina. I’m not clear on the lingo”, Felipe said. Nina laughed heartily. “It’s fine. Really”, she said. “I guess I am. Sort of. It’s a long story”.

EZ put a hand on Nina’s shoulder. “Angel called. They’re on their way back. We should get back to the yard”. Nina nodded, and went to follow him to the door. “Come back some time if you need something to read”, Felipe said. “Or a steak”. “I might take you up on that”, Nina smiled, and followed EZ out to his bike.

They rode back to the yard; this time with EZ hitting a few bumps on the way there.

---

The Mayans that had gone on the run returned to the clubhouse shortly after Nina and EZ. She got right to work behind the bar. It was easy to fall in line as a club hangaround; Nina knew the deal. Serve the beer, keep out of the way, smile, and pretend like you don’t hear or see any of the illegal stuff going on. Her role also made it easier to avoid eye contact with Angel. She was, for lack of a better word, furniture. It hadn’t been completely the same in Charming, though. There, she’d been far from the regular hangaround, and her status as family made it near impossible for her to be a croweater – god knows, Juice had tried, in his day. The memory of the biker made her frown in sadness for a second, before she shook herself, and served a round of whiskey to a Riz, Creeper and Angel; accepting a shot herself.

“Oh yeah. That scrawny guy, Rat, brought something you forgot at their clubhouse”, Riz said. He handed her a leather-bound journal. Nina sighed when she took it from him. She hadn’t as much forgotten it, as left it behind; telling herself it was by accident. Opening it was always a strange mix of warm emotions and pain. “Thanks”, she muttered. “Is it a diary, or something?”, Creeper asked. “It’s… yeah, something like that”. “Yours? Like; dear diary. Today I drank too much tequila, and lost my panties…”, he jeered. Getting a little tired of Creepers attitude, she smirked at him. “More like; dear diary. Today, a stupid ass biker kept bringing up an embarrassing drunk-story; so, I shot him in the head…”. Her heart dropped as she said the final words, and she cleared her throat. Riz and Creeper laughed at what they found to be a great come-back, while Angel seemed less amused, as he examined her face. She gave them all a strained smile. “I’m gonna go get some air. Leave you gentlemen to it”, she said, grabbed the journal, a cigarette and a lighter, and hurried out of the clubhouse.

Once outside, she went over to the cage she’d been told the club settled their internal arguments in. It was cooler now, and the sky was full of stars. She went inside the cage, and sat down on the ground; lighting her cigarette, before opening the journal. For a long moment, she just sat there, looking at the picture fastened to the inside of it; of two young boys, smiling. The youngest one was sitting on the back of a pony, that the older one was holding the reins of.

“You want me to kick Creep’s ass for you?”. Nina looked up at Angel, who’d followed her outside. He stepped inside the cage, and leaned against the fence. “I’ll fuck him up. I don’t care if he is a brother”. “No, it’s fine. He was just joking around”, Nina replied. Angel sauntered towards her slowly. “He’s trying to get in your pants, querida”, he said. “Well, add enough tequila to the equation, maybe he’s got a shot”. She raised a brow at the tall biker. “Ouch… Moving on so soon, cuervo?”, Angel said with a slight smile. “Jealous?”, she teased. “Always”, he replied – exactly as she’d hoped – and sat down next to her.

For a long moment, all that could be heard was the sound of cicadas. Angel ran a finger over the picture of Abel and Thomas. “These your kids?”, he asked quietly. “No… But, they’re family. Sort of”, Nina replied. “You got kids?”. “I fucking hope not”, Angel grinned. “I’d just screw them up”. “You’re not so bad”, she said, and nudged him with her shoulder. “Mind telling my pap that?”. Nina raised a brow at him, not wanting to push him to talk about something he wasn’t comfortable with. He took the journal out of her hands, and looked at the two smiling boys in the picture. “Family, you know. Shit… My old man looks at EZ like he’s the sun and moon combined. Me… I’m the fuckup. Even more now, that I dragged his golden boy in to the club”. “EZ’s a big boy. He makes his own decisions… we all do, at the end of the day”, Nina said, and took back the journal. She took a few huffs of her cigarette. “You look at him that way too, you know”. “I do?”, Angel frowned. “Fuck, I hope he hasn’t noticed”. “It’s not wrong to be proud of someone worthy of it. And in spite of your… bad-boy demeanor, he seems to be proud of you as well”.

Angel pondered her words for a moment, before looking at her “Sorry, I was supposed to make you feel better. That’s why I came out here. I saw how you looked when Creeper was talking about that thing”, he said, and nodded towards the journal. “It’s ok”, Nina said, and closed it; hugging it against her chest. “I’m just protective of it, is all”. “Like with the helmet?”, he asked. Nina nodded. “You wanna tell me about it?”. “What?”, she whispered. “Those kids… Whoever you got that helmet from… Why we’re sitting on you here, like you’re under witness protection or something…?”. He nudged her shoulder like she had his, and smiled a little. His expression was warm, like he actually cared about what she had to say. The closeness between them felt dangerous, at the same time as it felt perfectly safe, and right.

Nina took a breath, and was about to shrug him of – give him some half story, about being friendly with SAMCRO – when she met Angel’s eyes. His gaze was earnest; trustworthy, even. “The helmet used to belong to my… someone I used to be really close to. Those are his kids in the picture…”, she said. “I’m holding on to this until they get older. He asked me to give it to them when they're old enough to read it”. “And he died?”, Angel said. “Crashed his bike into an oncoming truck…”, she said. “Shit… I’m sorry. Who was he to you?”. Nina sighed, and smiled softly. “The sun and moon combined”, she said. “Your brother?”, Angel asked confusedly. “Not biologically”, Nina chuckled. “But he took care of me. Treated me like a sister. After he died, the club still kept me close, like family”. “So, you have a whole club of family back in Charming. Why leave?”, Angel asked. Nina’s throat instantly went dry, and she looked at the ground. “A bad break-up”, she replied, her voice breaking. “I needed a fresh start”. Angel didn’t question her; merely seemed to accept her words for truth, and moved on.

They sat in silence for a moment longer, before he suddenly looked like he was beginning to put two and two together. “Your… brother. He was SAMCRO…”. She nodded. “And he crashed headfirst into a truck”. “Yeah…”, Nina whispered, the air thick with the truth being exposed. “Holy shit… I fucked Jackson Teller’s baby sis!”, Angel exclaimed. Nina felt her stomach churn at his words. “That’s like… royalty! I should get my dick silvered or something”. Nina stubbed out her cigarette. “If he was still around, he’d probably do it himself; while it was still attached to you”. Angel winced. “Shit, yeah. That man had a reputation. He was like the boogeyman to Mayan prospects in my day. I heard that one time, he shot a guy in both legs for pinching some hangaround chick’s ass”. “He didn’t shoot him, he just broke all his fingers”, Nina muttered. Angel’s eyes widened. “That was your ass, huh…”, he said, more as a statement, than a question. “It wasn’t Chucky, was it? Is that why he’s got those…”. He wiggled his fingers in the air. “No… That was something else…”, Nina replied. “Jax wasn’t just that, though. He was a good man”. Angel nodded. “Yeah, I heard that, too”. He studied her face for a long moment. “You loved him”, he said, finally. “Like, loved him”. Nina looked confusedly at him, before she caught his meaning. “What? No…! He was family. Just that”, she replied truthfully. Angel smiled crookedly. “Good. It ain’t easy fighting a ghost over a girl”, he said.

Nina felt a smile tug at her lips, but wasn’t ready to be sweet-talked by the guy who’d openly admitted she was a one-night stand, just the day before. “I thought we agreed what this was…”, she said. “Did we? I didn’t agree to anything”. He raised his brows at her, and smiled wryly. “What happened to consent?”. “That’s not how that works”, Nina laughed. “Let’s agree to disagree about that, ma'”, Angel said. Nina sighed deeply. “You told Bishop; we fucked, yeah. But… “. Angel looked taken aback. “Are you like my brother or something? Do you remember everything?”. “I remember that”, Nina said, a slight edge to her voice. Angel frowned at her. “You never considered maybe I was about to say; we fucked, yeah. But I like this girl? Or; this girl is different?”. “You were probably about to say; she gives good head”, Nina scoffed. “You don’t know me well enough to like me, or think I’m special”. “We could change that”, Angel said. “Spend some time together… I get that you’re just passing through, and that you kind of belong to another club, because of this thing with Teller, but…”.

Nina felt a sudden rage bubble through her. “I’m not a goddamn trophy!”, she hissed. “You don’t get to use me like some big fuck you to SAMCRO, for tapping one of their girls. Fuck that!” “That’s not what I’m saying", Angel said. Nina got to her feet and backed away from him. Her breath was catching, and she felt an oncoming asthma-attack. She often got them when got upset, but couldn’t find it in herself to calm down. “Don’t try to bullshit me. I know guys like you; measuring your pride in the amount of pussy you can get to climb on the back of your bike”. She didn’t realize the harshness of her words, before she saw Angel’s expression. He got on his feet himself, and looked at her with hard eyes. “You should be careful sitting out here, Nina" he said, and looked at the cage-fence surrounding them. “Someone might thing you’re gunning for a fight". While Nina stood frozen in place, he walked out of the cage, and got on his bike; driving out of the lot.

“Fuck!”, she growled at herself, and stumbled towards the trailer. Once inside, she scrambled to find her inhaler, and took a hit; feeling her lungs return to normal function. “Fuck…”, she repeated, and collapsed on the cot; clutching the journal in her arms.

---

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #coco cruz

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

1 & 20 Years Paying the Bitch Back

Buckle up. It’s a long ride with a pleasant finish.

Some time back I was hired to a company by a CEO I had previously worked for someplace else. He was a good friend so when his newest company wasn’t achieving sales, he headhunted me to join the new one.

The company hadn’t made a sale in two years. Year one the software product was in beta so it wasn’t ready to be sold. Year two they realized using the tech staff to make high end sales to C-level executives was the shittiest sales model one could conceptualize. In general, and there are exceptions of course, these two personality styles don’t speak the same language. Tech people talk tech. Buyers talk benefits and how the potential product fills needs. I bridge the gap well by translating tech-speak into natural conversational language so buyers better understand how their needs will be filled.

The job was an hour and a half drive one-way from my home so the CEO said I could work from home as long as I kept the sales management tool current (it’s where you keep the notes of each prospect’s status), came to important meetings and made sure the executive team had daily sales reports.

The first month I made the daily 3 hour commute because I needed to have solid, constant interaction with all the departments to rapidly form my sales strategy and develop a two-way confidence level with the section heads.

Once I had a handle on things, I was ready to launch my sales plan. In the meantime, the CEO hired a VP of Sales (bitchboss) who started 4 days before I hit the ground running to get in front of buyers.

She was a VP coming from the banking industry and had a long career in sales and marketing in finance products. I hated her from the moment she arrived. She knew fuck all about tech and I spent huge time trying to orient her which wasn’t ideal because I needed to work on my sales strategy. They brought her onboard because she had strong experience gaining financial investors.

Nevertheless, I forged ahead. Traveled to a target state and spent 19 days criss crossing it. When I came back I had 17 contracts from buyers totaling about $2M in sales. My CEO was overjoyed.

Fast forward six months and now working from home, I’m rocking and rolling. Sales are strong. CEO is happy. Good things are happening.

Bitchboss has landed an investor willing to drop $6M into the company, and they are coming into town for a discovery meeting. She asks me to drive up because they specifically want to meet the salesperson. Seconds before walking in the door for the big meeting, bitchboss pulls me aside and says she needs me to back her up on lie she has told them. Basically she doubled my sales numbers. I told her there was no way I was going to do that. She says the CEO has okayed the lie.

We get to the part in the talk where the investor is looking over my inflated sales numbers on the prospectus, then directly asks me how many sales I’m making a month. Bitchboss is behind him waving her arms but I was having none of it and answered truthfully. He looks askance staring at the document which has the false number listed, while she’s giving me the stink eye behind him.

No one says a word. Dead silence.

I ask to see the document and fates have aligned allowing me to solve the dilemma. I explain the first two numbers were transposed (they correlated well to my real sales versus inflated sales if you flip-flopped the first two digits.) Potential investor is satisfied and we move on.

Switch gears. About a week later I was meeting with the CIO in his office and he referred to my “big tits.” I’m no shrinking violet but it stunned me because it was so unexpected.

That night I was chatting with my BFF who happens to be a lawyer and told him about it in casual conversation. He said I should tell the CEO so he can address it. Thinking along smart business practices, I decide to tell bitchboss to whom I directly report as proper protocol since we don’t have a HR dept yet. Side note-I also reported directly to CIO as a boss since my role was a muddy mix of sales and tech.

The next day CEO calls me and I take him through it telling him it’s no big deal but to make sure he talked to CIO so it didn’t happen again. He says he’ll do it right away.

Two days later I check in with him and CEO still hadn’t talked to CIO because the investors were in town. I gently push him to get it done and casually mention my best friend who happened to be a lawyer was the one who urged me tell him because “any good CEO would want to know about it.” I reiterate I’m not mad or upset.

The only word he heard was “lawyer.”

He went apeshit that I was bringing a lawyer into the mix. Now this guy was my good friend. We’d worked together at two companies for years. I calmed him down (or so I thought,) explaining that I only wanted him to talk to CIO. I also told him I HADN’T brought a lawyer into it, that I had been innocently chatting with BFF who just happens to be a criminal defense attorney. He seemed okay and we hung up.

The next day I’m working as usual and I get a call from an attorney who explains the company has hired her regarding my sexual harassment claim. I’m flummoxed and adamantly told her that was not the case, that I had no claim against the company. She said otherwise.

And that’s when everything changed. Dramatically.

CEO was furious with me for bringing this on when investors were looking at us. His reaction set the tone which filtered down. The company began to retaliate against me. Bitchboss now made it her mission to make my life hell: “forgetting” to tell me about important meetings I was supposed to attend, freezing me out when I was in the office, telling me I could no longer even speak to CIO (a problem since I’m selling a multi-million dollar tech product needing his input AND I directly reported to him as my other boss), denying me a long planned, approved vacation, basically anything she could devise to screw me over-she was gleefully working it.

Coinciding with this was a serious health problem I developed ultimately requiring surgery. My illness had no impact on my work as I was able to work from home which made things easier on me health wise. Bitchboss then decided that I need to come to the office every day despite a 3 hour round trip commute.

Now I know you’re thinking why didn’t I just leave, get another job somewhere else...

I needed the health insurance. There was no way to turn around another job fast enough and I had a complex surgery scheduled requiring 3 surgeons for my procedure.

My doctor gave me a note for them which released me from having to make the daily commute so I could continue to work at home. As long as my work didn’t suffer, they legally couldn’t force me to commute especially since working from home was a part of my employment contract from the outset.

The night before my surgery, bitchboss calls to tell me they’ve cancelled my health insurance. After hanging up with bitchboss I collapsed on the floor in a faint. I was so, so, so sick, and mentally exhausted from all the stress.

The next morning the CEO frantically calls asking to talk to me. My mom refuses to let him. I’m on official leave as of that morning and we’re heading to the hospital. CEO had told their lawyer about canceling my health insurance and she chewed him a new asshole telling him it was illegal. They immediately reinstated my insurance.

In the two weeks I was out, my mom had found a lawyer for me as it was clear shenanigans were going on. I still needed them as an employer because I was in no shape to rigorously job hunt while recovering.

Turns out all the bullshit they were doing to me is illegal. Companies aren’t allowed to retaliate against employees when they report nefarious acts against them.

I met with my new lawyer who said I had an excellent claim for retaliation and took me on. He said I had to continue working there while he did his thing to stay within protocol while he filed the EEOC claim.

Now it’s time for me to return to work. The company had relocated (planned) during my absence and bitchboss refused to tell me where so I couldn’t come back to work. Company lawyer told them they HAD to tell me so bitchboss gives me wrong directions making me late on day one.

I walk in the new office and it looks like any other place except for one thing. There is a wide open area directly in front of the CEO’s glass office with a single desk in the middle of it. Welcome to my new desk.

Also, I wasn’t allowed to do sales anymore. In fact, I wasn’t allowed to do anything, at all, period.

They had hired a bunch of new people to the company and they treated me like a pariah. Turns out bitchboss had gone to them telling a pack of lies and if they know what’s good for them they’ll stay away.

Since I had nothing to do but couldn’t just sit there looking like a dope, I worked on documenting everything being done to me per my lawyer’s advice. I was meticulous in my note taking.

Bitchboss began writing me up. Stupid stuff like not answering my phone on the first ring and for asking questions during company wide meetings, asking to see my personnel file which employees are legally entitled to do although not entitled to photocopy any of it.

Each time she wrote me up, I had to sign the write up. There was a space for me to reply to it so I consistently wrote, “I do not agree with this assessment.” It infuriated her so much, she wrote me up again for writing the statement that I didn’t agree with it.

There were several instances where she called me into her office and literally began screaming at me loudly and enthusiastically. I wouldn’t engage though; my standard answer to everything was OK which made her apoplectic. At one point, she’s inches from my face screaming, her face beet red and I just sat there with a dreamy expression whilst envisioning her blowing a vein in her head stroking out. I infuriated her with my equanimity.

Still and all, I was in it to win it at this point. It didn’t matter what new humiliation they dished out. I took it all with a bland face, then went to my desk and documented it in my notebook.

She loathed my notebook, sure that I was doing exactly what I was doing. Documenting. Because it was my personal property though, she couldn’t take it from me. I had to carry all my belongings with me everywhere (company wide meetings, the bathroom, lunch) because I caught her one time going through my desk drawer....in my fucking purse!!!!! (Although it gave me great joy to write a note reading “fuck you” which I left in my backpack and jerry rigging it so I could tell if she went into it...which she did.)

I withstood it all with a brave face only breaking down once I left for the day. My attorney took a lot of sobbing phone calls during this period.

Finally the day comes that my attorney has what he needs and I can resign, better still, he advises I don’t have to give a two week notice. I come back from lunch and type up my letter with one sentence, “I resign immediately.” I take it into the HR guy (who also took part in their evil machinations) and hand it to him. His mouth forms an O shape and he half stands up from his chair as he reads it. He looks up and I give him a smile and say bye bye just as sweet as pie, walked out the door and drove home feeling mighty fine.

One month later, my lawyer and I are at the EEOC office along with the CEO, bitchboss and their lawyer so the EEOC can review my claim.

In my state, you can’t just bring a lawsuit against a company for things like harassment and retaliation. Claims must first be evaluated by the EEOC, and then if they determine you have enough grounds to file a lawsuit, they issue a Right to Sue document.

My lawyer presented my case logically and forthright detailing all the evidence. It took him 40 minutes to go through it all. Then they presented their side with allegations of my poor employment along with their “evidence” which were all the copious write ups bitchboss had written. EEOC asks about the timeline of the write ups inquiring if they before or after my claim occurred. Bitchboss wearing a smug self-satisfied smile states they were all prior to my claim as noted by the dates on each document.

EEOC Lady looks at my lawyer. My lawyer looks at me. I look at bitchboss then serenely pull out MY photocopies of the documents. Whilst handing them to EEOC lady, bitchboss barks “she’s not supposed to have those, they’re company property.” I show EEOC lady that the dates have clearly been altered by Bitchboss. (She had made copies with the dates blanked out then backdated them.)

You see whenever she wrote me up, I had to take the document personally to the CEO to put in my personnel file. Along the way though, I stopped at the copier and took copies. She never knew I was doing this.

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

EEOC Lady reviews the copies then slowly sets them on the table. She didn’t say a thing for a long time, then she spoke. I can remember her words exactly to this day.

“I’ve seen a lot of ill treatment and illegal undertakings by both employees and employers, including forged or altered documents, but I have never see someone so incredibly stupid to present documents this easily disproved. Not only are employees entitled to receive and keep a copy of formal write ups but reading these ridiculous allegations, it’s obvious you are trying to manufacture your case.”

She went on to say I had a clear case for a lawsuit, and moreover I would win it. She recommended their side go in another room and determine a settlement amount to pay me immediately or risk the lawsuit.

They went to a nearby office and I could hear the lawyer dressing them down. Words I heard included “lied to me” “lied to EEOC” “presenting false documents” “broke so many laws” “figure out a number big enough to pay her so this doesn’t go to court because you will lose.”

They came back with a $50k offer which we accepted. My lawyer and I left then did a football touchdown dance in the parking lot. Looking up at the EEOC window, I could see bitchboss in the window looking miserable and crying.

She had just been fired.

That was my year 1 revenge.

I’m not a hateful person. I get mad and get over it. But... for bitchboss, I nurtured hatred and vowed to one day get revenge, so I kept tabs on her, and discovered she opened a finance marketing company after she was fired. Then I waited a year before exacting my petty delight.

For the past 18 years, I’ve executed a wonderful, soul-refreshing project. Each year I go to her website and write down all the work email addresses and phone numbers for the employees. Then I subscribe them all to “get more information” from places like online schools, online insurance companies-all those bullshit aggressive organizations that keep your contact information longer than a gypsy fucking curse while trying to sell you stuff.

The last few years, I’ve subscribed them to an email bomb service where the service takes the address and instantly subscribes it to 1000s of newsletters, request for more information feeds and other online buyers of email addresses for marketing services. I tested it with a burner email and it wreaks havoc on your inbox with thousands of emails received within seconds, and they never.... fucking... stop....

You literally have to close down the email because it can’t be salvaged. Each year when I go to collect the contact information, all the emails have been changed to new ones.

Last year my cousin took a job in the same building. I enlisted her help and she made it a point to befriend a receptionist working for bitchboss. After executing my yearly plan, my cousin went to lunch with her. The receptionist was in a foul mood and explained the entire organization was in disarray because IT had to redo all the emails again. “It keeps happening over and over and nobody can figure out why.”

She said the owner (bitchboss) has had to get her cell phone number replaced 3 times because of all the texts and phone calls she gets whenever it happens again. (sometimes bitchboss would have her phone number on the website which I duly subscribed to everything under the sun.)

The best part for me was hearing how she lost a mega client because they felt the company was in too much turmoil so often.

The thought of this keeps me warm and cozy at night, and I sleep so very, very well.

(source) story by (/u/digitalgirlie)

#prorevenge #by /u/digitalgirlie #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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cocobaek · 6 years

Text

Crossfire | 13

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader | Seokjin x reader Genre: Fluff | Angst? Warnings: None this time Word Count: 2.6K

Previous: 12 Next: 14

The day after it was made public Jin and I were getting married. According to my father, we had been high school sweethearts, and thanks to a few stray photos of us with Taehyung, this was believable. Namjoon and I had spent the whole day as we promised – pretending it had never happened. We had turned our phones off and were spending the day in ignorant bliss. It felt almost unreal honestly, as if we were a real couple. I sat on the couch, as I had hoped I would with a future boyfriend of mine, wearing one of his large white shirts. Namjoon had disappeared off to the shower, taking his sweet time. This was basically like a day off to him, with me not going anywhere, he didn’t need to protect me from anything. I was lying on my back, holding a book above my head, enjoying the sunlight that streamed through the window of my apartment. My attention was taken from my book when I heard a low whistle from the bathroom. “Now that’s a sight I can get used to,” Namjoon hummed, wasting no time in coming over to me and straddling my hips. He was wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. “You’re not looking to bad yourself,” I said, dog tagging the page and putting my book down. He grinned and shook his head, “I cannot believe we wasted this much time,” he said, kissing me softly. “Excuse me, no, I cannot believe you wasted so much time. I was all for this,” I said with a grin. He hung his head as he laughed, “ok, yeah I’ll accept that.” We weren’t even able to enjoy this moment any more before there was a knock at the door. The knock soon turned into an insistent banging. I sighed, patting Namjoon’s side, causing him to roll off of me. He shrugged on a discarded t-shirt while I went and opened the door. There stood a very unimpressed Jungkook. “You’re not allowed to not text back!” He said, obviously having been worried. “You and Namjoon! Not co-“ he finally took in my attire. “Oh my god seriously? I was in my room thinking you two were in a basement somewhere but you were just too busy banging?” He rolled his eyes. “Sorry Kook,” I said, scratching the back of my head as he walked past me into the house. “I’m surprised you two are so relaxed, especially after everything,” he said, sitting down on the couch. “Yeah well, it’s a way of coping.. Ignorance is bliss,” I laughed. “I understand that, now, I’ve been wondering if that’s been the case with this whole Seokjin situation.” Hearing his name I instantly got anxious, as did Namjoon. “I’ve talked to Jin about it. He doesn’t want to step on my toes and I don’t want to step on his, we agreed the other person can do whatever, we live as we have been until wedding day... Then we’ll uh,” I glanced to Namjoon, “we’ll work it out.” Jungkook nodded, before his signature grin appeared, “God, if this had happened back when we were 15 [y/n] would be ecstatic.” I shot him a warning look, whereas Namjoon simply raised an eyebrow, “Oh?” He said, “Is that right.” I sighed, “I may or may not have had a dumb crush on him when we were little. “Oh that’s an understatement, she was obsessed, wouldn’t shut up about him,” Jungkook said, earning a smack on the arm from me. “Well, I’m not 15, so I’m less thrilled,” I said, crossing my arms, “but it’s easier not to think about it.” Jungkook nodded, “that’s fine, wouldn’t want to ruin… whatever you two are?” He said. I looked to my feet with an embarrassed smile. “No, that wouldn’t be good,” I smiled as I felt his fingers graze mine, a small gesture, but a sweet one nonetheless. “Ugh, I’ve been single too long, even that makes me sick,” Jungkook laughed, looking quickly to his phone. “Well, now that I know you’re alive, I can let Jimin know he can stop panicking.” I went and grabbed my phone, holding the On button. “It’s ok, I’ll text him, I should get back into the real world anyway,” I said as everything started up. The moment it turned on I wish it hadn’t. I had missed calls from my dad, and too many messages to count. “Cool, just great,” I said, as a call came through. I answered, and he spoke the moment I did. “[y/n]? Are you ok?” He said, surprising me. I didn’t think he’d actually be worried. “Yeah Dad, all fine, sorry, I just... Needed time alone for a bit,” I said, lying easily through my teeth. He sighed, “that’s ok... Just… Just let me know next time ok?” He sounded like he wanted to be annoyed, but decided against it. “Anyway, I’m glad I got hold of you, you and Seokjin have your first interview!” I was shocked. “What, already? It’s barely been a day.” “Well, the people want what they want… They will be going to your home in a few hours, if you could get there before they do that would be perfect.” I sighed, “yeah… yeah ok I’ll head there now,” I said, not having the energy to argue with him. “Thank you dear... Good luck.” With that he hung up, ending the short conversation. Namjoon looked at me hesitantly, already knowing what it would’ve been about. “Jin and I have an interview apparently, why people are so interested in politician’s children I don’t know.” “It’s not just that [y/n], it’s the president’s son and the VP’s daughter… It’s like a fairy tale, people love that shit,” Jungkook said, putting his phone in his pocket, “I guess I should head off then... You need to let me know when you have free time ok.” I nodded, walking over and hugging him tightly, “Definitely, thanks for coming and checking in on me Kookie.” He chuckled, “it’s nothing, don’t scare me like that again,” he rubbed my back before stepping away, giving Namjoon a wave, “see you later man.” Namjoon nodded, his good mood from this morning gone already, “yeah, see you around.” Jungkook gave us both one more smile before leaving almost as quickly as he arrived. “So, back to the same old act huh,” Namjoon said, changing into his suit pants. “Yeah... Back to it,” I repeated, letting out a sigh. Namjoon followed me into my room and began searching through his things, before he looked back up to me and let out a laugh. “Ah, [y/n]?” He said, sounding slightly amused. “Hm?” I answered, sitting myself down at my desk to start straightening my hair. He pointed at me, and I looked down. I let out a mixture between a sigh and a laugh, of course he wanted to wear the one shirt I was wearing. He walked over to me, coming behind me to make eye contact with me through the mirror I had set up as a makeshift vanity. “As much as I do enjoy seeing you in that, going back to it means I have to be in uniform,” he hummed, his hands falling to my shoulders. We stayed like this for a moment. It was unreal how in such a short time of us accepting these feelings how attached to them I had gotten. How natural this felt. “This is going to be hard… I don’t know how I’m going to do it,” I said quietly, causing him to bend down, placing a kiss on my head. “I know, I know. And I’m not sure if it will help or make everything worse, but I’ll be right there the whole time, I’m still your bodyguard remember.” I nodded and he flashed me a smile, squeezing my shoulders before stepping back, “I’ll let you get changed, don’t be too long with my shirt.” “Sure thing boss,” I said, trying to ignore the sudden anxious feeling I had.

Unfortunately the feeling didn’t go away, it simply got worse as we made our way to ‘my new house’. I was rather shocked when we pulled up. It was a beautiful little thing. It was small, quaint. Perfect for a pair of newlyweds. I chewed on my lip as I saw the front door open, and Jin stepped out. Unlike the other day, he was in his casual clothes, just a loose shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. He looked good, I will admit that. I hoped out of the car and he smiled at me, “[y/n], hey,” he said, “ready to get this over and done with?” I nodded, mustering the best smile I could, “as ready as I’ll ever be.” Jin placed a hand on the small of my back casually, “come, let me show you the place.” The house was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. I had to give my father credit, he had put some thought into this, perhaps even had my preferences in mind from the beginning. “The reporter said she wants to arrive a little earlier, have a chat before the official business starts.” He led us into the lounge area, where he sat down on the arm of the chair, while Namjoon went and lent against the wall by the door. Jin smiled at me empathetically, “hey, it’s ok, they aren’t going to second guess anything. We’ll be fine.” I was touched that he could see I was worried, and it was somewhat reassuring how confident he was. I nodded, going and sitting at the armchair opposite him. “So I was thinking,” I started, “We can just basically tell the truth,” both men looked at me in confusion before I finished my sentence, “well, the whole how we met thing. You met my brother when our parents started working together, you two became best buddies, and you fell madly in love with me when I hit puberty.” Jin let out a loud laugh at my last comment. The laugh so, so familiar. “I did, did I?” he said, “and are we mentioning the face the crush you had on me?” He smirked at my reaction, “Taehyung told me.” I groaned, “Of course he did,” I muttered. If I didn’t have bigger things to worry about I would be so mad at Taehyung. “We mention what we need too, the important thing is that we hammer down the point that we kept everything so quiet for a reason,” I said, “That my mother didn’t want me to be in the spotlight so we were respecting her wishes.” Jin’s face fell, “[y/n], we don’t need to mention her if-“ “No, its fine,” I said, smiling at him sadly, “its fine.” He took a moment, then finally nodded along, “alright, sounds like a plan.” And a plan it was. As predicted, the reporter ate it up, and Jin played his part perfectly, and for anyone who didn’t know better, it would’ve seemed like we were in love. It all looked convincing, apart from my constant glancing over at Namjoon. I couldn’t help it, every question that I needed to answer, every time she brought up love, he came to my mind. And I could see he felt the same. I wanted nothing more than to drag him over, placing him right where Jin was sitting and telling everyone that he was the one I fell for. But I couldn’t. Eventually, everyone had left our home, leaving Jin, Namjoon and I once again. “Well, uh, thanks,” I said, for some reason feeling more awkward than when I had arrived after all that. Jin however, seemingly remained unphased, “no worries, you did great,” he smiled and followed after us as we began heading towards the car. Before I could step out, he called out, “[y/n], sorry, I know you’re tired, but uh, can I have a word?” He glanced up to Namjoon briefly. Namjoon nodded, “I’ll wait in the car, take your time,” he said. “I won’t be long,” I smiled to him, before following Jin back inside. “What’s up?” I asked. Jin ran a hand through his hair, “I didn’t properly get a chance to apologise the other day.” I furrowed my brows, “apologise? Why?” “Just... for all of this…” I shook my head, “Jin, it’s not your fault, you don’t need to apologise at all.” “I mean, yeah, it’s not my fault, but I’m still the person standing in between a relationship.” My eyes widened slightly at his comment. “Sorry,” he apologised again, “I just,” he chuckled, “he wouldn’t take his eyes off you, it’s not hard to pick when a man in jealous.” I was shocked, and rather impressed at how Jin had figured it out so quickly. I must’ve looked worried though before he quickly back tracked. “[y/n], [y/n], it’s fine,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders, “I’m not going to nark or anything, I just want you to know it’s fine by me,” I smiled back at him, prompting him to continue, “and, you know, if you ever change your mind and do want to move in, then he’s welcome too, I’m not going to be an overprotective dude, as far as I’m concerned, we are two friends who need to help each other out.” I was blown away. I knew Jin was kind, and I knew he was going to be good about this situation, but offering Namjoon a room? I never thought that would happen. “You’re the best Jin,” I laughed, “and hey, that offer goes both ways, you bring over anyone you want to.” He chuckled, placing a hand on my head. “We have to look out for each other… It’s looking less and less likely that we are going to get out of this,” He said almost sadly, “so let’s just try not make each other’s lives miserable.” “I like that idea very much,” I replied with a smile. We stared at each other for a moment before Jin finally brought back the hand I forgot was on my head. “So, how long has that been a thing? You and Namjoon. Does Tae know?” he began grilling me as an older brother would. “No, no Tae doesn’t know and he doesn’t need to!” I said with a large grin, jokingly giving Jin a warning in the meantime. “It’s relatively new.” Jin seemed surprised. “Whoa really?” he said, “Man, I’ve lost my touch… I assumed you’d been together for ages.” I raised an eyebrow, “why’s that?” “You should’ve seen the way he was looking at you. More importantly, the way he was looking at me. That’s jealousy [y/n].” I couldn’t help but grin at the thought. Namjoon was jealous? Of Jin? Jin saw my expression, “don’t enjoy his pain too much,” he joked, nudging me softly before opening the door for me, letting us see Namjoon, leaning against the car patiently. “Ready to go?” he asked, standing up straight. I nodded, going to join him, but Jin grabbed my wrist and quickly dragged me back into his tight embrace. I was about to question him when he whispered in my ear, signing involuntary chills down my spine. “There’s a man with a camera across the road.” I sighed, placing my head on his chest. “Thank you.” He pulled back, placing his hands on my cheeks. I felt my heart rate increase. Was he going to kiss me? “I’ll see you later sweetheart,” he said, before planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Stay safe,” I replied, playing along the whole way to the car, where Namjoon opened the door for me, waiting for me to get in before hopping in after me, more than ready to head home.

#Kim Namjoon #Namjoon #RM #Kim Seokjin #Jin #namjoon x reader #Jin x reader #Crossfire #V #Taehyung #jimin #Jungkook #Suga #Yoongi #Jhope #Hoseok #BTS #bts x reader #bts imagine

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orbemnews · 3 years

Link

Biden assigning Harris to lead diplomatic efforts in Central America to address immigration “I asked her, the VP, today, because she’s the most qualified person to do it, to lead our efforts with Mexico and the Northern Triangle, and the countries that can help, need help in stemming the movement of so many folks, stemming the migration to our southern border,” Biden told reporters ahead of an immigration meeting in the White House State Dining Room. “I said when we became a team and got elected that the vice president was going to be the last person in the room,” he said. “She doesn’t realize that means she gets every assignment.” The task mimics Biden’s own efforts in 2014 and 2015, when he was asked by then-President Barack Obama to lead diplomatic efforts in Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador after a surge of unaccompanied minors from those countries began arriving in the US. Migrants are again arriving at the border at increased levels, causing a scramble by the administration to accommodate them and a political problem for the White House. “Thank you, Mr. President, for having the confidence in me. There is no question that this is a challenging situation,” Harris said on Wednesday. “While we are clear that people should not come to the border now, we also understand that we will enforce the law and that we also — because we can chew gum and walk at the same time — must address the root causes that cause people to make the trek, as the President has described, to come here.” Officials said Harris would focus her efforts on stemming the current flow of migrants and on developing a larger strategic partnership with Central American countries based on respect and shared values. “Starting today, the Northern Triangle and Mexico will know there is one senior official dedicated to this effort,” a senior administration official said on Wednesday in previewing Harris’ new role. The vice president, until now, had not been tasked with a key portfolio issue distinct from Biden. Instead, she acted as a “full partner” to Biden, appearing often physically alongside him on all the administration’s efforts, including their self-proclaimed top priority of managing the coronavirus pandemic. Those close to Harris said foreign policy and national security are key areas she wants to develop in her portfolio, and she’s taken steps to beef up her experience since taking office, including by speaking with foreign foreign leaders. During her own presidential run, Harris said she would expand the use of deferred action immigration programs and utilize executive actions to remove the threat of deportation of millions of undocumented people in the US if elected president. She said earlier Wednesday in an interview with CBS News that the White House was frustrated by the current situation. “Look, we’ve been in office less than 100 days,” she said. “We are addressing it. We are dealing with it, but it’s going to take some time, and are we frustrate? Are you frustrated? Yes, we are.” Officials said Harris would rely on her experience as attorney general and senator from California, a border state, to inform her diplomatic efforts. They said she would be supported by officials from the Cabinet, including the State Department and USAID, and was likely speak with the leaders of key countries, though did not have specific phone calls to preview. Officials said Biden brought Harris into the new role because of an inherent level of trust. “He has experience and lived through this process as vice president himself,” an official said. “Biden has said over and over again the person that I trust most, the person I turn to when there’s a hard issue, is Kamala Harris.” Still, a separate official said Harris would approach the matter differently than Biden, who traveled to Guatemala City in 2015 for a trilateral meeting with the leaders of Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras in part to develop solutions to issue of migrants from those countries coming en masse to the United States. “Vice President Harris taking on this challenge in her own style, in her own way,” the official said. Source link Orbem News #address #America #assigning #Biden #BidenassigningHarristoleaddiplomaticeffortsinCentralAmericatoaddressimmigration-CNNPolitics #Central #diplomatic #efforts #Harris #Immigration #lead #Politics

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dipulb3 · 3 years

Text

Biden assigning Harris to lead diplomatic efforts in Central America to address immigration

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/biden-assigning-harris-to-lead-diplomatic-efforts-in-central-america-to-address-immigration/

Biden assigning Harris to lead diplomatic efforts in Central America to address immigration

“I asked her, the VP, today, because she’s the most qualified person to do it, to lead our efforts with Mexico and the Northern Triangle, and the countries that can help, need help in stemming the movement of so many folks, stemming the migration to our southern border,” Biden told reporters ahead of an immigration meeting in the White House State Dining Room.

“I said when we became a team and got elected that the vice president was going to be the last person in the room,” he said. “She doesn’t realize that means she gets every assignment.”

The task mimics Biden’s own efforts in 2014 and 2015, when he was asked by then-President Barack Obama to lead diplomatic efforts in Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador after a surge of unaccompanied minors from those countries began arriving in the US.

Migrants are again arriving at the border at increased levels, causing a scramble by the administration to accommodate them and a political problem for the White House.

“Thank you, Mr. President, for having the confidence in me. There is no question that this is a challenging situation,” Harris said on Wednesday. “While we are clear that people should not come to the border now, we also understand that we will enforce the law and that we also — because we can chew gum and walk at the same time — must address the root causes that cause people to make the trek, as the President has described, to come here.”

Officials said Harris would focus her efforts on stemming the current flow of migrants and on developing a larger strategic partnership with Central American countries based on respect and shared values.

“Starting today, the Northern Triangle and Mexico will know there is one senior official dedicated to this effort,” a senior administration official said on Wednesday in previewing Harris’ new role.

The vice president, until now, had not been tasked with a key portfolio issue distinct from Biden. Instead, she acted as a “full partner” to Biden, appearing often physically alongside him on all the administration’s efforts, including their self-proclaimed top priority of managing the coronavirus pandemic.

Those close to Harris said foreign policy and national security are key areas she wants to develop in her portfolio, and she’s taken steps to beef up her experience since taking office, including by speaking with foreign foreign leaders.

During her own presidential run, Harris said she would expand the use of deferred action immigration programs and utilize executive actions to remove the threat of deportation of millions of undocumented people in the US if elected president.

She said earlier Wednesday in an interview with CBS News that the White House was frustrated by the current situation.

“Look, we’ve been in office less than 100 days,” she said. “We are addressing it. We are dealing with it, but it’s going to take some time, and are we frustrate? Are you frustrated? Yes, we are.”

Officials said Harris would rely on her experience as attorney general and senator from California, a border state, to inform her diplomatic efforts.

They said she would be supported by officials from the Cabinet, including the State Department and USAID, and was likely speak with the leaders of key countries, though did not have specific phone calls to preview.

Officials said Biden brought Harris into the new role because of an inherent level of trust.

“He has experience and lived through this process as vice president himself,” an official said. “Biden has said over and over again the person that I trust most, the person I turn to when there’s a hard issue, is Kamala Harris.”

Still, a separate official said Harris would approach the matter differently than Biden, who traveled to Guatemala City in 2015 for a trilateral meeting with the leaders of Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras in part to develop solutions to issue of migrants from those countries coming en masse to the United States.

“Vice President Harris taking on this challenge in her own style, in her own way,” the official said.

0 notes

danfanciesphil · 7 years

Text

Phan Teacher AU (Part 4)

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

This is all Mr Horowitz’s fault.

Okay, so it’s also a little bit Dan’s fault for forgetting to bring an umbrella, or even a sensible coat, but in his defence, he had no idea this would happen.

Normally, Dan’s walk to the bus stop after school is little more than two minutes, and so far he has always made it in time to catch the 3:17 bus. It’s a good thing too, because Dan knows that the next one doesn’t come for another hour.

He’d been on his way to catch this same bus, in fact, when Mr Horowitz caught his arm, asking whether, before he left, he’d just run upstairs to the labs and clear up the experiment from the last class. Dan, being the school’s servant boy, couldn’t exactly refuse. He’d raced up to the labs at just after 3pm, cleared the desks in lightning speed, run a broom over the floor and sprinted to the bus stop.

But alas, the sight with which he was greeted was the tail end of it, chugging into the distance as the rain pelted down.

So now, Dan is stood, shivering like mad, in the downpour. It’s currently 3:30pm, and he still has another 47 minutes before the next bus.

“Fuck you, Horowitz,” Dan mutters under his breath, which comes out in a silvery puff of steam.

He wraps his thin jacket around himself a little tighter, rocking on the balls of his feet. Students keep passing him by, some sending sympathetic looks, and some chuckling at his plight. Dan knows he must look an absolute sight; his hair is probably plastered to his head, and his smart shirt and skinny jeans are so drenched that they’d fill a few jugs if they were wrung out, he’s sure.

“Wanna use my Physics textbook as an umbrella, sir?” A Year 11 student Dan vaguely recognises calls out as they walk past, laughing.

Dan shakes his head with a grim smile. “No thanks,” He replies, as tactfully as he can bring himself to be.

It’s at this moment that a car pulls up to the bus stop, pausing right beside where Dan is stood.

The window rolls down, and Dan’s immediate instinct is to run away - a product of the copious amount of ‘stranger danger’ warnings instilled into him during his teacher training.

Then, the driver of the vehicle leans across the passenger seat, and Dan nearly wails. It’s Phil. Of course it’s Phil.

“Hey!” Phil says, a glimmer of amusement in his cobalt eyes. “Need a lift?”

Trying his best not to think about the fact that he looks the worst he ever has, Dan forces a tight smile, leaning towards the open window.

“Hey, hah- yeah, I didn’t exactly prepare for the weather today.” Dan says, chuckling at himself. “But it’s okay. Thanks for the offer but I live really far away. I’ll just get the next bus.”

“When’s the next bus?” Phil asks.

A car behind him slows to a stop, unable to get past. Dan glances up at it worriedly. The driver, an older man in a suit, looks impatient.

“Um, in forty-five minutes. Ish.”

Phil’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open. “What?! You’re planning to wait here in the rain for that long?”

Dan tries to give Phil a bright smile, like he’s fine with it, but a raindrop falls from his forehead into his eye, making him wince.

“Y-yeah, it’s okay, I’m-” Dan cuts himself as a sneeze surges up out of nowhere; he just about manages to turn away, aiming it into the crook of his elbow.

When he looks back up at Phil, he does not look pleased. “Dan,” he says, his voice dropping to his firm, teacher tone. “Get in the car.”

Partly because the gentleman behind Phil has begun honking his horn, and partly because his knees have jellified at the sound of Phil speaking to him this way, Dan pulls open Phil’s passenger door and climbs in.

It’s so warm inside that he could cry.

“I’m gonna get your seats all wet.” Dan says mournfully, trying to take up as little space as he can.

“They’ll dry.” Phil tells him, turning the heater up until it’s blasting over Dan’s face and chest. “There are more important things than courtesy, you know Dan.”

Dan turns to him, trying to work out whether Phil’s annoyed. He watches silently as Phil pulls away from the kerb, joining the thick muddle of after-school traffic inching its way towards the main road.

“My mum raised me to be a polite young man,” Dan jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“My mum raised me not to put my health in danger for the sake of asking a friend for a lift once in a while,” Phil replies, looking over at Dan. The windscreen wipers squeak as they battle the awful weather. After a moment, Phil sighs, his expression softening. “Sorry, I don’t mean to have a go at you. But come and find me if you miss your bus again, okay? I’d rather drive a bit out of my way today than have you turn up tomorrow with pneumonia.”

Dan nods guiltily. “Wait till you see how far away I live before you get too generous.”

“Wow,” Phil whistles, eyebrows raised as he stares down at Google Maps on his phone. “You weren’t kidding.”

They’ve pulled into a layby, the rain still thundering against the glass. It doesn’t matter though, because Phil’s car is warm and dry. It’s littered with little plastic toys, highlighting Phil’s quirkier side. There are Marvel superhero bobble-heads blu-tacked onto the dashboard, and the cupholders are filled with keyrings that look like they were won out of those two-penny slot machines.

There are also sweet wrappers scattered around - skittles, starburst, pick ‘n’ mix, or anything sugary and colourful.

None of it seems anything other than incredibly endearing, though. Dan could spend hours rifling through this car, which is so intrinsically Phil, just learning about him through his clutter.

“Yeah,” Dan says awkwardly. “It’s a forty minute bus ride.”

“You do that every day?” Phil asks, looking up at him in wonder. “Twice a day?”

Dan shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”

It would be a lot worse if he had nothing to look forward to once he actually got to the school, Dan thinks privately.

“Um, don’t worry about taking me all the way,” Dan says quickly, “just drop me at another bus stop or something on your way home-”

Phil flaps a hand at him distractedly, turning back to his phone. He pinches the map, searching the screen for a route to take.

“No, no, I don’t mind taking you,” Phil says, chewing his lip. He looks up, out of the windscreen, appearing to have some sort of internal debate. “It’s just... well, do you mind if we make a stop?”

Dan blinks at him.

“Uh, a stop?” He asks, uncomprehending.

“Yeah,” Phil replies. “It’s just that I need to let my dog out. Would you mind if we stopped at mine on the way? I’ll take you straight home after.”

Dan pauses for a moment, the words not sinking in straight away. Phil wants to take him to his house, where he actually lives, and he’s asking if that would be a problem.

“Phil, you’re literally rescuing me from a storm,” Dan says slowly, watching the bashful smile spread over Phil’s gorgeous features. “You could drive me via the Eiffel Tower if you wanted.”

Phil grins at him, putting his phone down and releasing the handbrake. “Maybe we should save the Eiffel Tower for another time.” Phil side-eyes him, questioningly. “Like in two weeks?”

Dan’s already racing heart picks up a little more speed, the fact that he is currently en route to Phil’s actual house beginning to seep into reality. He laughs, feeling awkward about what Phil is implying.

“Yeah, I still haven’t decided whether I’m coming on the trip yet,” Dan says, hands clasping together in his damp lap.

“You know it’s free for teachers, right?”

“I’m not a teacher.”

Phil smirks. “I’m sure I can persuade John to let you in free of charge.”

“Who?” Dan asks.

“John. Mr Green.” Phil clarifies; Dan just stares blankly. “Vice Principal of the school?”

“Oh,” Dan says, vaguely remembering a ‘VP Green’ showing him round on his first day. “I haven’t seen him since I first started. Sorry.”

“Well, he’s coming on the trip.” Phil tells him. “So, that’s a perfect opportunity to get to know him better.”

“Right, because having an awkward conversation in Paris with the Vice Principal of a school I’m heavily under-qualified to work at is top of my to-do list.”

Phil laughs heartily, pulling off the main road into a suburban maze of small houses. They can’t be more than ten minutes from the school. Dan gazes out of his rain-speckled window at the idyllic neighbourhood, trying not to be too obvious about how badly he wants to soak it all in.

“You’re not under-qualified.” Phil says, leaving no room for argument. You’re one of the best TA’s I’ve ever had.”

Dan stays quiet in the face of this statement, not sure how to handle it.

“Besides,” Phil continues, to Dan’s relief. “John’s actually a pretty cool guy,”

As it has rather often since the film screening on Wednesday, Dan’s mind wanders to thoughts of Paris, of being there with Phil and the rest of the Year Nine class. In his current state of awkward, socially inept pining over the class’ teacher, Dan’s not sure he’d be able to handle the experience.

Yes, it would be an amazing opportunity, and undoubtedly fun at times. But the class already tease Dan, sensing his overly-fond opinion of their favourite teacher despite him trying to keep it under control. It’s hard to imagine an entire weekend of that, in the so-called ‘city of love’, whilst attempting at least a shade of professionalism.

Not to mention how uncomfortable the whole thing could make Phil.

“But I don’t wanna pressure you.” Phil says, interrupting Dan’s tumultuous thoughts. “I just think it’d be fun if you came.”

Before Dan can properly comprehend that statement, let alone reply to it, Phil is pulling the car over and switching off the engine.

They’re parked in the middle of a quiet, orderly street, right outside a cute little bungalow, complete with a neat front garden and little pathway to the front door.

“You live here?” Dan asks, awed by how... lovely it is.

Phil chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “No Dan, I brought you to someone else’s house and we’re going to break in.”

Dan turns to narrow his eyes at Phil, who just laughs more.

“Come on, let’s get inside - it’s still belting down.” Phil says, unfastening Dan’s seatbelt before he gets the chance.

Dan takes a deep breath in a vain attempt to prepare himself for what’s about to happen, and follows Phil as he hops out of the car, and jogs to the front door.

If Phil’s car is telling of his personality, his house is as though he’d cracked open his chest, scooped handfuls of his soul out and splattered it all over the walls.

Dan has never seen any sort of interior design that represented a person so well before. It’s not just visually appealing, it’s also a spectacle to behold. Dan’s sure that by just opening one random drawer in Phil’s house and glancing at the contents, he’d understand a thousand more things about this man, strange and enigmatic as he is.

They enter into a small entrance hall, painted a sunny yellow. There’s a semi-circular welcome mat on the floor, made to look like half a pepperoni pizza. On one wall hangs a large mirror, in a bizarre, warped shape, the edges curved as though they’d been drawn by a child.

There’s a tall cheese plant in one corner, and on a table below the mirror sits a potted scarlet anthurium. It’s a colourful room, and Dan’s very aware that this is only the very entrance of Phil’s house.

Before Dan can comment on the aesthetics - which he greatly appreciates, having lived in a cheap, falling apart, ‘student house’ for some time now - a small creature tears through the doorway on the left, bounding towards them, barking shrilly.

Phil crouches down to greet it, gathering the bundle of excitable fur into his arms immediately, laughing. Mouth falling open in an adoring ‘o’, Dan drops to the floor instinctively, an overwhelming urge to pet this animal forcing him to its level.

“Dan,” Phil chuckles, receiving several licks to his face. “This is Buffy.”

It lets out a ‘ruff!’ upon hearing its name, turning to Dan, tongue hanging out as it surveys him. In a millisecond, the dog is wriggling in Phil’s arms, struggling to be free. It worms its way out of Phil’s grip in a second, leaping across to Dan’s lap, tail wagging excitedly.

“Oh my God,” Dan says, cuddling the dog close to himself as he strokes and scritches and pets its soft, caramel fur. “This is the cutest dog I’ve ever seen in my life. What breed is it?”

“She’s a paperanian,” Phil says, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor. He laughs as Buffy begins frantically licking at Dan’s face, front paws on his chest as she attempts to reach him. “A pomeranian-papillon mix.”

Phil strokes along her back, fondly, his hand occasionally brushing across Dan’s.

Dan is giggling into the shock of Buffy’s fur, relishing the adorable, happy temperament of this dog. His only family dog had been a springer-spaniel when he was young, and it had died before he’d had a chance to bond with it properly.

“Unff-” Dan says, voice muffled as Buffy licks eagerly at his chin. “How long’ve you had her?”

“About a year and a half?” Phil replies, smiling warmly. “I used to volunteer at a shelter when I lived in France. I didn’t mean to get attached, but I couldn’t help it. So I adopted her.”

“She’s adorable,” Dan says, stroking over her soft, pointed ears as she begins to calm down, happily settled in Dan’s lap. “I think I’m in love.”

Phil glances up at Dan, eyebrow raised. For some reason, Dan finds himself blushing. “I get it.” Phil replies. “I fell in love on sight.”

Dan holds Phil’s gaze for a moment, any responses getting caught in his throat. Buffy barks, stealing their attention, and Phil giggles at her. He stands, scooping her up from Dan’s lap and into his arms.

Dan tries not to pout about this.

“Come on, then,” Phil says, presumably to the dog, “I’ll let you out for a bit.”

Dan stands too, following Phil through his hallway and into the room on the left.

Again, he is struck by the amazing decor of the room in which he enters, which seems to be a spacious living area, but he barely has time to appreciate it before Phil is heading into the kitchen at the other end, Buffy still tucked in the crook of his arm.

At the back of the kitchen there’s a glass sliding door, leading to what appears to be a tiny back garden, surrounded by a tall wooden fence. It’s through here that Phil lets Buffy out, barking happily as she scampers across the wet grass, not bothered by the rain in the slightest.

Phil slides the door shut after her, turning to Dan with a smile. “I’ll just let her run around for a bit. She’s been cooped up all day.”

“I guess you have to leave her here while you’re at school?”

“Yeah,” Phil replies guiltily. “It’s not as bad as some jobs, because I can let her out in the morning, and then I finish quite early in the day, but I still feel bad.”

“I’m sure she’s used to it.” Dan says, trying to make a positive comment.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Phil says. “If I ever have to stay late, I can call my brother to come and check on her. He lives just down the road.”

“That’s convenient, at least.”

Phil shrugs, turning to his kitchen counter and retrieving the bright red kettle.

“It’s not perfect, but it works okay.” Phil says. “Anyway, I’m rarely away from home. It’s not every day I have to rescue damoiseau’s in distress caught in rainstorms because they missed their bus.” Phil winks at him; along with the casual french he dropped into the sentence, it makes Dan feel a little dazed.

“Do you want a cup of tea while she runs about for a bit?” Phil asks.

Dan feels his heart flutter, and wonders whether any of the other TA’s have ever had the honour of coming here, of meeting Phil’s dog and receiving hot beverages on rainy days.

“That’d be great, thanks.” Dan answers quietly, still feeling like an inconvenience.

As Phil fills the kettle and gets the mugs, Dan takes the opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s beautiful, just like the rest of the house, but with a few youthful, quirky touches that indicate Phil’s sillier side.

The walls are cream, as are the countertops, but there are splashes of colour everywhere. The microwave is bright yellow, and there are a host of tiny herb plants in red, green, blue and orange pots atop the windowsill.

Phil’s fridge is a light blue, and around his light wooden table, the chairs are varying sizes and colours, mismatched, but in a way that seems put together.

“It’s so homely in here,” Dan muses, not really meaning to say it aloud.

Phil turns to him, evidently surprised. “Thanks! Most people say it’s a bit much.” He pours the boiling water into the mugs, chuckling. “My brother said that it’s as if I gathered a random load of furniture and scattered it about without thinking.”

“Did you?”

“Kind of, I suppose.” Phil allows, shrugging one shoulder. “I just pick up bits and pieces that I like the look of, and fit them in as best I can.” He laughs, opening his sky-blue fridge to get the milk. “I don’t pretend to be an expert in interior design. I just like things to be...”

“Pretty?” Dan supplies.

“I was gonna say colourful,” Phil says, smiling at him. “But yeah, I suppose. Thanks.”

Dan blushes faintly, casting another look around. He notices for the first time that Phil’s fridge door is covered in those alphabet magnets, some of which spell out the phrase ‘normalness leads to sadness’. There’s also a photo pinned there, of Phil and a man Dan vaguely recognises as his brother. He’s holding Buffy in his arms, smiling a very Phil-like smile.

“Milk? Sugar?” Phil asks, tearing Dan’s attention away.

“Just milk, thanks.”

Phil pours the milk, humming to himself, and adds two lumps of sugar to his own cup from a gnome-shaped pot nearby. He places the mugs down on the table, and pulls out a chair.

“You can sit down, you know,” Phil tells Dan amusedly, slipping into one of the seats.

Dan obeys, sliding into the chair opposite him and retrieving his mug. “Thanks.”

He sips, even though it’s far too hot, trying to think past his nerves, for something, anything, to say that isn’t ‘wow you’re pretty and your house is pretty and your dog is the cutest thing in the world and I think I’m crushing on you far, far too much to even be here let alone go to Paris with you in two weeks’. He comes up blank.

Then, quite unexpectedly, Phil reaches across the table, and pushes a strand of his fringe away from his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips. Dan freezes, a deer in headlights, as Phil’s fingertips brush his forehead, acutely aware of how damp he is still.

“Your hair,” Phil says softly, wonderingly. “It’s curly.”

Dan blushes furiously at once, ducking away from Phil’s touch, feeling self-conscious. “Shit, yeah. The rain, y’know...”

Phil draws his hand back to his mug, smiling amusedly. “It’s cute.”

Dan looks at him in surprise. He’s never, in a million years, considered the idea that anybody might find his natural, untameable curls anything other than ridiculous, but all of a sudden he has a powerful urge to never touch a pair of straighteners again.

Dan lifts his hand to his head, patting the mess of curls that are drying there.

“I... never really liked them.” He admits, sheepish.

“You should embrace them,” Phil says encouragingly. He shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, if you want. I think they suit you. But then, it’s not my hair.”

All of a sudden, Dan shivers, partly because he’s wet and cold, but mostly because Phil is being so sweet that his body actually seems to be rejecting the sentiment, not sure how else to process it.

Phil frowns, noticing the tremble. “Hey, take that off.”

He gestures to Dan’s torso, standing from the chair. Dan just looks, bewildered, at Phil’s outstretched hand.

“Um...”

“Your jacket, Dan.” Phil says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’ll throw it in the dryer.”

“Oh, no it’s okay-”

“Dan, you’re actually shivering.” Phil interrupts, voice firm. “I’ll just dry off your wet jacket, it’ll take ten minutes.”

“It’s warm in here, you really don’t have to.” Dan mumbles, but he’s already shaking the damn thing off his shoulders, because Phil is using his teacher-voice, and it’s drilling right into his chilly bones.

Phil just takes the jacket from him, opening a secret cupboard door under the kitchen counter to reveal a washer-dryer. He places Dan’s jacket inside, presses a few buttons, and smiles in satisfaction as the dryer begins its cycle.

He turns back to Dan, frowning again as he takes in the sight of him.

“Hey, drink your tea, it’ll warm you up.” Phil instructs, moving across the room, towards the doorway. “I’ll be right back.”

Dan doesn’t get a chance to object; Phil slips out of the room, leaving Dan sat at the table in just his damp, clinging, white shirt, hands clasped around the mug of tea.

Then, in a moment, he’s back again, a bundle of green material in one hand. He hands it to Dan casually, then moves to sit back in his seat.

“Um, what’s this?” Dan asks, confused. He turns the green item over in his hands carefully.

“A hoodie,” Phil says, like it’s perfectly normal. “You’re cold.”

Dan swallows, squeezing the material in his fist. It feels thick and warm. “Oh, th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil says, beaming. “Put it on, you’re not allowed to be cold in my house.”

“I didn’t realise you had such strict house rules,” Dan replies teasingly, but pulls the hoodie over his head, threading his arms through the sleeves.

It smells - oh, Lord - it smells just like him. It’s cinnamon sweet, with a fresh, plant-like overtone. A cooling, freshly baked apple pie on a windowsill, the breeze sweeping in its delicious aroma, carrying the notes of the newly cut spring grass.

Dan has to force himself not to bury his nose in the sleeves that hang down over his hands.

He tries to distract himself by looking down at the text on the front of it, which reads ‘York University’. “I see I’m repping your college.”

“Hah, yeah, sorry about that.” Phil says bashfully, sipping more tea. “I guess it’s a bit weird to hang onto that, isn’t it?”

Dan shrugs. “Not if you liked it.”

Phil smiles at him appreciatively. “I liked the uni, yeah. And I like the hoodie. I like it even better on you.”

Simply because Dan doesn’t trust himself to speak further about this without melting into a gooey puddle, he decides to change the subject.

“So, is it Buffy as in... the vampire slayer?”

He nods towards the screen door, through which Phil’s dog is sprinting happily across the grass, pausing every so often to sniff a patch, tail wagging furiously.

Phil turns to watch her for a moment, laughing. He nods, turning back to wink at Dan. “I mean, it is the greatest show of all time.”

Dan considers this, nodding. “It’s definitely up there.”

“You’ve seen it?” Phil asks, sounding surprised. “Not many people have, these days.”

“You spend too much time around teenagers.” Dan says with a wry smile. “The kids in your classes probably weren’t even born when Buffy was cool.”

Phil sighs, nodding in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

“Hey, it’s their loss.” Dan says. “They’ll never know the awesomeness that is Buffy Summers kicking kicking the ass of every monster that dares to cross her.”

“Or the incredible hotness of Spike,” Phil adds, somewhat wistfully.

“Spike over Angel? Interesting.”

“To be honest, if I were Buffy, I think I’d have a similarly hard time deciding between them.”

“Same,” Dan agrees, staring down into his tea.

“Hey, I forgot,” Phil announces suddenly, his voice bright and cheerful. “I made cupcakes! Would you like one?”

Dan watches as Phil stands from his chair, heading to a cupboard to pull out a cake tin.

“Um,” Dan says; his stomach is rumbling at the mere mention of food, let alone cake, but he wants to be careful about how far he should run with Phil’s generosity. In the end however, his tummy, which hasn’t been fed since lunch, makes the decision for him. “Sure. Thanks.”

Phil finds a small plate and presents Dan with one of the most incredible looking cakes he’s ever seen. Putting bakeries to shame, Phil has piped rainbow frosting atop a small, palm sized cake. He’s also sliced off the top of the cake, cut it in half, and pushed the pieces into the icing in a traditional ‘butterfly cake’ style.

The whole thing is covered in some kind of edible glitter too, making it sparkle under Phil’s soft, overhead lamps.

“Christ, you made this?” Dan asks, staring down at it in amazement. “I feel like I shouldn’t eat something this pretty.”

Phil chuckles. “It’s either going to you or Buffy, so eat up.”

Phil takes his seat again, and Dan diligently begins peeling the glittery pink case from the sides of the cupcake. He glances up at Phil, watching him, and pauses.

“You’re not having one?”

Phil shakes his head. “Trust me, I’ve had about sixty already since I made them. He leans back in his chair, placing a hand on his stomach. “I’m cupcake’d out.”

Dan’s eyes fall to the cake in his hand, feeling awkward about eating it now.

Phil laughs at him, and Dan looks up. “What?”

“Afraid I’m trying to poison you?”

Dan splutters, having not even thought of that. Realistically though, he perhaps should be a bit more concerned. He doesn’t know Phil that well, after all.

Playing along, Dan eyes the cake suspiciously, bringing it to his nose and sniffing. “Well, it is awfully convenient that you just had to let Buffy out whilst you already had me in your car...”

Phil rolls his eyes, smirking. Without a word, he leans forwards, plucks the cupcake from Dan’s hand, and brings it to his lips. He takes a small bite, frosting and all, licking glitter and crumbs from his lips as he holds Dan’s gaze.

He hands the cupcake back over, looking triumphant. “There. If it’s poisoned, then we’ll both die.”

“Finally,” Dan jokes, taking a bite out of the cupcake, heart palpitating over what just happened.

The cupcake is glorious. Dan shuts his eyes, moaning a little in appreciation. It tastes like strawberry laces, and vanilla ice cream, and pure, unfiltered joy. It tastes like how he imagine Phil himself would taste, were he smothered in frosting and had a surprise, raspberry jam centre.

“Fucking hell,” Dan says eloquently, diving straight back in for another bite. “Phil Lester, you’re a genius.”

In three bites, Dan has devoured the entire thing, and he licks the remnants off each of his fingers, wishing he could go back in time and experience that slice of heaven all over again.

When he eventually meets Phil’s gaze, he’s looking a little dazed. There’s a pink tint to his pale skin, resting just above his sharp cheekbones. Seeming to gather himself, Phil clears his throat, and adjusts his glasses, smiling.

“Glad you liked it,” Phil mumbles, busying himself by taking Dan’s plate to the sink.

“You should apply for Bake Off,” Dan says sincerely.

Phil laughs, rinsing the plate under the tap, faced away from him.

“Actually don’t,” Dan says, changing his mind. “Just bake for me, instead.”

Phil stacks the plate on a drying rack, turning back to him. He doesn’t sit back at the table, though. He just leans against the counter, watching Dan from afar.

“And what do I get out of that deal, Mr Howell?” Phil asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Literally whatever you want.” Dan replies, meaning every word.

“Careful,” Phil says, typically flirtatious, making Dan’s stomach flip. “Some people might take advantage of a promise like that.”

Dan just laughs, staying quiet. In his mind however, he silently comes to the realisation that he can’t think of a single thing that Phil could ask for, that he would refuse to do.

Oh, dear.

By the time they leave Phil’s house, the rain has eased to more of a drizzle, but it pours continuously nonetheless. Dan says goodbye to Buffy about five times, softened by her sad little whimpers and puppy eyes each time he turns to go.

He doesn’t mind that her fur is soaked and a little muddy, he just cuddles her close, no doubt ruining Phil’s hoodie, though Phil doesn’t object. He doesn’t even tell her off as she tracks damp pawprints through the kitchen, he just uses a spare towel to dry her off, giggling as she wriggles about beneath it.

“Aw, he’ll be back another time, Buffy,” Phil assures his whining dog, and secretly Dan bursts with happiness.

They get out of the door eventually, and into Phil’s car. Phil sticks the heating on straight away, blasting them both as they rub their hands together. Dan wishes it would be socially acceptable to lean across and nestle into Phil’s shoulder, but alas, he settles for simply wrapping the hoodie more tightly around himself, pretending it’s Phil’s arms.

“She loves you,” Phil says, laughing. “She’s not going to let me forget that, either.”

“What a shame,” Dan says, faking a dismayed sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to come and play with her all the time.”

Phil grins at him. “You should. Buffy would really like that.”

“Buffy would?” Dan asks, feeling just brave enough to attempt a flirtation, fuelled by the adrenaline his own body has been pumping through his veins for the past hour or so.

Phil just smiles at him, eyes holding Dan’s for a moment, seeming to forget about starting the car. “Yeah,” he says after a while. “She really would.”

It’s quite painful to watch Phil driving away.

It’s only been a couple of hours, but in the short time he and Phil spent together this afternoon, Dan had grown rather attached to his presence.

This whole crush-thing would be so much easier if Phil was a difficult person to hang out with. But it’s so easy. They fall into banter as quickly as breathing, their conversations lasting indefinitely, because they could spring off each other’s witticisms for hours on end.

Phil is so funny, and so effortlessly charming. He’s intelligent and sharp, which is attractive on its own, but he has such a flirtatious streak, and it only makes things worse.

The more time Dan spends around him, in fact, the more he feels himself falling into a deep cavern of yearning.

When Phil pulled up to Dan’s house, right before Dan got out, he handed Dan another one of his cupcakes, which he’d hidden in a little Tupperware box in the glove compartment, unbeknownst to Dan.

Dan had protested at first, saying he couldn’t possibly steal another of his incredible creations, but Phil insisted on him having it. Eventually, Dan managed to create a condition - that he owed Phil a favour, not only for the cupcake (and the other cupcake) but for the cup of tea, and introducing him to Buffy, and the kindness, and for literally rescuing him in his hour of need and driving him forty minutes across town to his house.

Phil laughed, but agreed to these terms. Dan had gone to leave his car then, cupcake in hand, but Phil had stopped him, saying he had an idea for how Dan could repay him.

Of course, he had to say Paris.

So, because he’s helpless to refuse Phil anyway, and because he owes Phil a lot, Dan agreed. So, in two weeks, he’s off to Paris, to spend an entire weekend with Phil, in the most romantic city in the world.

Yes, there will be twenty or more teenagers along for the ride, but Dan finds it difficult enough to keep it together in Phil��s presence as it is, even during class.

Forty-eight hours of uninterrupted time in close proximity to this man is going to render him as useless as a smitten nerd-girl in any teenage rom-com that’s existed since the beginning of time.

He sighs, watching from his doorway as Phil’s car rounds the corner, out of sight. He opens the Tupperware, and takes a bite of the delicious cake, sighing in defeat.

“Okay, who was that?” Tyler’s voice says from right by his shoulder, making Dan jump.

“Is that hot, French, teacher-guy?” Teddy interjects from further inside.

Dan rolls his eyes, turning to push past both of them as he stalks into the house. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do than spy on me?”

“Aw, Dan we just want to see you happy!” Tyler exclaims, following Dan into the kitchen.

He wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, walking behind him like a drunk mum too into the conga line, until they reach the counter.

Dan puts his half eaten cupcake back in its box, placing it on the counter.

“How do you know I’m not?” Dan asks crossly.

“I mean, you’re fine.” Teddy says, strolling into the kitchen to rest his arm on Dan’s shoulder. “But fine isn’t good enough for our lovely Daniel. We want to see you being adored!”

Teddy pinches Dan’s cheek, smiling at him. Tyler kisses him on the temple, ruffling his hair.

Dan rolls his eyes, but smiles a little under the affection. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

He struggles free of them, intending to take an immediate shower in order to wash the rainwater off himself. He heads for the door of the kitchen, mind already on other things.

Phil things.

Paris things.

“Hey, Dan?” Tyler calls out, sounding confused. Dan turns on the spot, somewhat reluctantly. “I thought you went to the University of Manchester?”

Dan frowns in confusion. “Ty, we all went to the same uni. We literally met at uni.”

Teddy hides a smirk in Tyler’s shoulder. “Right, right.” Tyler says. “So whose hoodie is that?”

Having completely forgotten he was even wearing the thing, Dan flushes bright red, stammering in place of a response. It’s an absurd reaction, obviously, but it sends the others into fits of laughter, and Dan instinctively knows they won’t let this go for weeks, no matter how much he tries to insist it was a purely platonic gesture on Phil’s part.

“I hate you both,” Dan groans, practically running out of the room.

He slams the door of the bathroom, switching on the shower, cheeks still flame-red in the mirror. He pauses, caught by the sight of his reflection, swathed in the emerald green of Phil’s hoodie.

He strokes the words on the front, feeling how they’re beginning to flake from multiple washes, and from the creases Phil has made as he moves around in this same garment, when it’s wrapped around him instead.

Dan lifts the sleeve to his nose, breathing in that delicious scent. The vanilla-strawberry cupcake still lingers on his tongue, making it that little bit sweeter.

He’ll return this hoodie, he tells himself, saving it until last as he strips off for the shower. But maybe he could forget for a few days. Or maybe he could say that he wanted to wait until the next time he’s in class with Phil, which isn’t until Monday now.

He places the hoodie carefully to one side, not wanting it to get wet, and hops in the shower. He lets his mind drift, skimming across memories of Phil’s touch against his forehead, the sound of the rain pattering against his screen door as the dog played outside, the low, fond tone of Phil’s voice from across the table, the flame of something vivacious dancing in his glacial eyes.

Paris, he decides, as the light trickles of warm water travel over his body, might not be so bad.

(Part 5!)

#phanfic #phan #teacher au #my fic #prompts

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you-told-me-to-buy-a-pony · 4 years

Text

Claude: Presidential Disaster

*Made with AI Dungeon

Your name is Claude. You are the heir to House Riegan and a proficient archer, as well as a stoner. You and your roommates, Dimitri and Edelgard, are secretly competing for class president at the Officers Academy. Not only will the student body vote, but your new professor, Byleth, will be voting as well. Dimitri and Edelgard hate each other, constantly stealing each other’s stashes. As the master trickster that you are, you hope to take advantage of their weird feuding to secure a very valid victory. One day, you tell your best pal Hilda to help you win the class presidency, guaranteeing her a spot as the VP. You have no idea what's going on in the world outside your window, but you know this much: there is a war brewing between two rival families. The Delantium Kingdom has been fighting with its neighbor, the Nuro family.

> Ignore the commotion, smoke some weed, and watch Dimitri and Edelgard argue

You sit on your couch and wait for Dimitri and Edelgard to fight again. It isn't like you want to see them arguing anyway. After all, they aren't exactly friends anymore. They were never really close after you left school either.

> Wonder why Dimitri’s such a miserable dude

Edelgard is a bit more interesting than Dimitri. She's got a little more personality and she doesn't act like an angry dum-dum all the time. You always wondered why she was so mad at everyone. Maybe it had something to do with her mother?

> Shrug

You shake your head. It's just a game, nothing serious. Besides, you’re not here to get into trouble or anything. You just wanted to relax and enjoy yourself.

As the argument continues, you begin to feel bored by it all.

> Find your pal Hilda

The next morning, you wake up early and walk down to the Officers Academy. You look around and see a lot of people milling about. Most of them are students from the academy, but there are also guards patrolling the halls.

> Wait for Hilda to meet you

You decide to wait until Hilda arrives. When she finally does, you grab her hand and say "Good morning."

"Morning," she says back.

She leads you through the corridors and eventually to a classroom where the rest of your group is waiting for you.

> Tell your group, the Golden Deer, that they can help you campaign for class president

Hilda nods and smiles. "Alright, I'll go talk to my group about this."

You nod and follow her out of the room. A few minutes later, you hear a loud noise coming from one of the classrooms.

> Smoke

Smoking is bad for you. You need to keep your mind off things. You grab a small baggie and light up the joint. Your eyes are already starting to hurt from staring at the ceiling all night long, so you put it away in your pocket.

> Go check out the commotion

You walk over to the door and peek inside. There's a bunch of yelling going on outside. You can only assume that someone has broken into the building and set fire to most of it. The windows are shattered as well, giving you a good view of what's happening outside.

> Ready your bow and prepare to fight intruders

You take a deep breath and raise your bow. You aim carefully and release the string. The arrow flies straight towards the source of the shouting.

A loud explosion follows right after. Pieces of wood fly everywhere as you duck behind cover.

> Look for Edelgard and Dimitri

You run back to the room where you left Hilda and the others. You search for them, but they're nowhere to be found.

You look around and realize that you don't know how to open any of the doors in this room.

> Turn back and keep looking for others

You turn back to the room and start searching for other survivors. You hope that if anyone else was here, they might still be alive.

You continue searching the rooms and hallways of the academy. Eventually you come across an old man sitting alone in a corner of one of the rooms.

> “Hanneman, is that you?”

"Yes, it is." He replies.

> Ask him if he is alright

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." You apologize.

He sighs and looks down. "It's fine. It just...it's been a rough day."

"Yeah, it has..." You reply.

> Ask him if he is wounded

"No, not yet." He says.

You ask him if he knows anything about who might have done this or why.

"Nothing really." He replies.

> Offer him some weed

"Hey Hanneman, would you like some weed?" You ask.

"Sure!" He replies.

You quickly leave his room and head back to the dining hall where you find that everyone is there eating their meals.

> Look for your pal Hilda in the dining hall

You quickly make your way back to the dining hall where you see Hilda sitting at a table with several other people. She notices you and smiles.

"Hello Claude." She greets.

"Hi Hilda." You return her greeting.

> Ask her how you will win the class presidency

"Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough." She replies.

She continues to eat her food while you sit down next to her.

You continue to talk with Hilda for awhile longer until she asks you a question.

"So what are you going to do after winning the election?" She asks.

"What am I doing? What are you talking about?" You respond confused.

> “I’m gonna be a rad class president!”

"A rad class president! A real leader of men!" Hilda exclaims.

You smile and nod your head in agreement.

> !Edelgard and Dimitri start arguing a few tables away

"Oh my god, you're joking right?" You hear Dimitri shout from across the room.

You turn around and see Edelgard standing behind you with a scowl on her face.

"Dimitri, calm yourself." You tell him.

> Ask Dimitri why he’s fighting with Edelgard again

"Why are you fighting with her again?" You ask.

"Because she's stupid as usual." Dimitri answers.

"And you're just jealous because she's pretty?" You ask.

"Shut up!" Dimitri shouts before storming off.

You sigh and look over at Hilda who seems to be enjoying herself in the sun.

> Ask Hilda if she’s enjoying this top-tier comedy

"Hilda, are you enjoying this top-tier comedy?" You ask.

"Yes, it's great!" Hilda responds happily.

You walk back to your own table and sit down next to her.

> Eat popcorn and watch as Dimitri yells at Edelgard for stealing his crack stash

You begin eating some popcorn and watching the two of them argue. It doesn't take long before you see Dimitri grab a bag full of crackers from one of the tables and throw them at Edelgard. The bag hits her square in the chest causing her to fall backwards onto the floor.

> Watch in amusement as Edelgard fights back

You watch as Edelgard grabs a handful of popcorn and throws it at Dimitri. He catches the bag but not before it smacks into his nose. He screams in pain and falls backward onto the ground.

> Laugh

You chuckle to yourself as you watch the fight. This is so much more entertaining than listening to someone talk about their problems.

As the fight continues, you notice that Dimitri has lost a lot of blood now. He looks like he might pass out soon.

> Tell him to give up

You decide to try something different. You want to help Dimitri out, but you don't know what to do yet.

"Hey Dimitri, I think we should stop the fight." You say.

He looks at you confused by your sudden change of attitude.

> Ask Edelgard to return Dimitri’s crack stash

You look at Dimitri and ask Edelgard if she can retrieve his crack stash. She nods in agreement.

You smile to yourself as you feel better already.

> Watch as Edelgard gives Dimitri his crack

You stand up and walk towards Dimitri. You grab a fistful of cracker and hand it to Dimitri. He takes the bag and begins chewing on the crackers.

You watch as Edelgard walks away from Dimitri, leaving him alone with his snack.

> Return to your lunch table and see how Hilda is doing

You head back to your table and find Hilda sitting there.

"How was school today?" You ask.

"It was fine." Hilda replies. "I had a good teacher."

> !”Professor Byleth is pretty chill.”

"Yeah, Professor Byleth is pretty chill." You reply.

"So, did you have any fun times today?" Hilda asks.

> !”I watched Edelgard and Dimitri fight again. Wasn’t it pretty interesting?”

Hilda laughs.

"Well yeah, it was pretty exciting seeing those two fight each other."

"Oh really?"

"Yep! They were fighting over who got to be the class president!" Hilda says excitedly.

“Really?

> !”I thought they were just fighting over Dimitri’s stash.”

"No, no, they weren't! It wasn’t even about that! They were actually fighting because Edelgard wanted to be class president too!"

"What?! How could you possibly know such a thing?!"

"Because I read it in one of her books!"

> !”We can use their feuding against them and win the presidency for ourselves!”

"Alright then, let's go get some more books and read them together!"

You both head to the library where you start reading the most boring book ever. After an hour or so of this, you hear a loud noise coming from outside.

> Look outside and see that Edelgard and Dimitri are fighting again

You look outside and see that Edelgard has been hit in the face with a rock. The pair of them are still locked in combat, but now you can hear Dimitri crying out for help.

The sound of the noise gets louder until it becomes unbearable.

> Take advantage of Dimitri and Edelgard’s recklessness and start a speech about why you’d be a better class president than either of them in an attempt to get some votes

You rush to Dimitri and try to stop him from attacking Edelgard.

Dimitri grabs you by the collar of your shirt and starts choking you. You struggle against him, but he's stronger than you think.

> Make a stupid joke

You laugh at Dimitri's expense and tell him that he should’ve killed Edelgard instead of trying to kill him. This causes Dimitri to release you and he runs off.

> Charm the students of the Officers Academy and attempt to convince them that Dimitri and Edelgard are way too violent to be class president

You run up to the officers academy and speak to all of its students.

"Hey guys, we need to vote on something! We need someone who will be less violent than these two!" You shout.

"Whoa, hold on! Who are you?"

> Present yourself and announce your decision to run for class president

You introduce yourself to everyone and explain what happened yesterday. Everyone seems to like your story, except for one person.

"Why would you want to be class president when you could be the best fighter in school? You're not going to beat me anyway." He remarks.

> Look at the idiot who spoke, obviously Ferdinand Von Aegir

"Fucking hell, do you have any idea how hard it is to become class president? There are probably ten people who want the position and only one of them has done anything worthwhile! What makes you think that you're going to be any different?"

Ferdinand looks down.

> Tell the masses to vote for you and smile

"Alright, alright, calm down. Let's keep things civil. Anyway, I'm running for class president because I believe that violence is never the answer and that you should always strive to achieve your goals peacefully if possible."

Everyone applauds your words and votes for you as class president.

> Tell the masses that you are running alongside Hilda, who will be class Vice President

You tell the masses that you are running alongside Hilda, who will be class vice president.

Hilda looks very surprised. She asks you what exactly you mean. You explain that she is a good candidate since she believes in peace and harmony, which is something that you also believe in.

> Call over Ferdinand, Edelgard, and Dimitri in order to initiate the class presidential debates!

You walk towards Ferdinand, Edelgard, and Dimitri. They stand there looking shocked and confused.

You approach Ferdinand first.

> Mockingly wish him good luck in the debate

You say "Good luck in the debate, Ferdinand. I know you're ready for this." You then turn around and wink at Hilda before walking away.

Edelgard looks at you with disgust while Dimitri just shakes his head and walks away.

> Begin the debate between you, Edelgard, Dimitri, and Ferdinand!

The Class Presidential Debates commence! The candidates are ready for battle!

As the debates go on, you feel more confident about your chances against each of the three candidates.

> !Professor Byleth approaches the podium and asks 20 intricate debate questions

Professor Byleth: Alright class, let's get right into the meat of this matter. Which of us can make the most complex argument using the fewest words?

Ferdinand von Aegir: Well...

You raise your hand and laugh at Ferdinand. He laughs back but doesn't seem to find it funny.

Ferdinand: Oh come on, I was just trying to be clever!

You: No, you were being stupid!

> Laugh at him

You raise your hand and laugh at Ferdinand. He laughs back but doesn't seem to find it funny.

Ferdinand: Oh come on, I was just trying to be clever!

You: No, you were being stupid!

> Let Professor Byleth continue asking you and the other candidates questions

You: Ferdinand, stop being so pretentious. It's not like you were actually trying to impress me with your knowledge or anything. You were just trying to be clever.

Ferdinand: (Sigh) Fine, fine, whatever. I'll try my best.

> !Professor Byleth continues asking you and the other candidates questions

Professor Byleth: Alright class, let's move onto the next topic. What do you think of our current world situation? Do you agree with the way things are currently going on?

You: Um...I don't really have an opinion on the state of things.

> Watch as Edelgard fiercely rants against the concept of nobility, while Dimitri looks on in shock.

Edelgard: This whole system is completely rotten! It's all based on lies and deception! We need to break free from it!

You: Yeah, I agree. I think we should totally kick nobles out of power.

Edelgard: How?!

> Say “I thought you had a plan? A class president needs a good plan.”

You: I thought you had a plan? A class president needs a good plan.

Edelgard: Uh, yeah...I guess...but what exactly would that plan entail?

You: Let's see here...(sigh)...

> Point out how Edelgard cannot make a plan, and thus she shouldn’t be class president

Edelgard: I'm sorry, but I just don't have any plans. My mind is too clouded by thoughts of rebellion.

You: That's because you're not making a plan!

> !Dimitri starts arguing with Edelgard just because he’s edgy

Dimitri: Hey, hey! Calm down, Edelgard! Sheesh, calm down there, ladyboy. You know you want to. Look, if you really wanted to rebel against the status quo then why didn't you just start doing it yourself?

> Watch them argue and snack on popcorn

You: (Sigh) Okay, well I suppose they both deserve to lose their positions.

You turn away from the two and go back to watching the rest of the candidates.

The bell rings signaling lunch time. The candidates stand up and begin heading towards their tables.

> Go back to your lunch table and find Hilda

You head back to your table and find Hilda sitting alone. She notices you looking over at her.

Hilda: Hi, Claude.

You: What are you doing here?

Hilda: Oh, nothing much. Just needed to get away from the others for awhile.

You: So where did you go?

Hilda: Well, I went to the cafeteria and got some food before coming back here.

> Ask Hilda where her gf Marianne is

Hilda: Hey, you know where Marianne is?

You: No, why?

Hilda: Because she's my girlfriend! And I told you so in this letter I found under my desk.

You: Huh? Why would Marianne be your girlfriend?

Hilda: Well, it was kind of an accident.

We were talking about our future together and we started kissing. It wasn't planned or anything. Anyway, I think we should stop talking about this now since it might cause problems later. Besides, you can tell me all about it when you get home.

You: Um...

> Ask Hilda if she saw the debates earlier

Hilda: Yeah, I saw them. They were pretty boring though. Everyone was just spouting off random ideas that had no basis in reality. I mean sure, some people tried to sound smart, but most of what they said was complete nonsense.

You: How was I?

Hilda: Not bad actually. I thought you'd do better than the other candidates.

You: (Sigh) Alright, alright, I'll try harder next time. Thanks for telling me everything though. It made me feel a little more comfortable with myself. Now let's eat!

> Feast like kings

After eating, you sit down at one of the empty seats near the front of the room. Your stomach growls loudly as you realize how hungry you are. You grab a piece of fruit and start chewing it greedily.

Suddenly, someone sits across from you.

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scenariosofkonoha · 7 years

Note

Also, dearest, when you get the chance, I'd love a written up version of our bby Shisui biting Tobirama's hand in the Oval Office while Wifey is on vacation and Tobirama just glaring at Kagami like "Why did you have this child now I am scarred for life

More Political AU! This is probably the most iconic scene in this whole AU tbh; i dunno if i did it justice…

There were many things that Tobirama expected when he became President, some were simple and some were problematic, but none the less, all of which were things that he knew he could deal with. He had full faith in his ability to be able to combat whatever may pass along his way during his time in office. Never before had he faced something that he could not deal with, and so as he entered the presidency, he had been quickly approaching a point where had begun to think that he would ever find anything that he could not handle. Though there was one particular issue that came into the picture shortly after he became president that he had never anticipated and he was well aware that he was not fully prepared to handle…

And that was a nine month old Shisui Uchiha.

With the sound of a small hand clashing against paper in attempt to play with it, Tobirama’s thought process was completely halted, the small noise breaking his concentration over the documents he was trying to analyze. Nearly scowling as he lifted his eyes up from his papers and to his Vice President, Tobirama’s annoyance with the entire situation was evident as he silent questioned many of the events that had led them to their current position. On any normal day, he would have left his office hours ago and would have been enjoying his night in the blessed silence of the living quarters of the White House, yet that was not a possibility right then. With the nation in the midst of a somewhat controversial healthcare reform and a major decision over it all needing to be made within the next sixteen hours, both Tobirama and Kagami were trapped within the Oval Office until they could decide on what the morning would hold.

And so, as Tobirama remained questioning why on earth he was still in his office at 11:34 at night, he looked over to his VP as he sat rereading over one of the legislative proposals with his child in his lap, gnawing on a vanilla wafer and trying to grab a hold of the very paper his father was trying to read. Tobirama’s frown was evident as he watched Kagami try to balance his attention between the nation’s newest healthcare reform and his son, the already burdenous night weighed down even more by the fact that there was a rather ornery child in the room. For a moment, Tobirama just watched as the nine month old continued on trying to grasp the paper, the cookie somehow remaining in his mouth as he reached for the document, while Kagami just kept reading the fine print almost as if he didn’t have a baby trying to get a hold of it. Now, Tobirama was well aware that this was going to be a long day, but the fact that it had lasted this long and now there was now an infant in his office causing interruptions, he was beginning to lose his patience. Breaking to silence of meticulous work, Tobirama questioned the presence of the unexpected guest in the Oval Office, “Is it really necessary to have a child in here this late? Couldn’t you have just found a babysitter?”

Glancing up from the paper, Kagami frowned slightly before trying to reason with him, knowing that this wasn’t an ideal situation, but at the same time Tobirama could have very much prevented having a baby in his office at such an hour if he hadn’t waited until the last minute for this reform. “Well, since you sent my wife out of the country on four hours notice, because of your trade with Romania falling through again, we couldn’t find a babysitter that could get him to sleep. He was just throwing a fit for the one we had and I wasn’t going to let them go through six hours of Shisui crying.” Kagami offered up, knowing that his son wasn’t the easiest to get to sleep, and it was just easier on everyone for him to simply take Shisui with him.

“Is it my fault your babysitter couldn’t get a child to sleep?”

“No, but-”

“And why couldn’t Y/N just taken him to Romania?” the president questioned, knowing that child had used his passport more in his nine months alive than Tobirama had used his in his entire life.

With a deep breath in Kagami decided that it was best to forego the President’s questions and just try to make to through the night as quickly and seamlessly and possible. “He’s not doing anything right now, and the faster we make a decision on what the final vote will be, the faster we can both leave. Besides he should be falling asleep pretty soon, normally he’s out by 7:30,” the Uchiha offer up, trying to appease both Tobirama and his baby.

Giving a disapproving glare to Kagami and then Shisui, Tobirama inquired his VP’s previous statement, “Kagami, It’s 11:30, and he is still wide awake.”

Looking from Tobirama to Shisui, Kagami just smiled at his nine month old and questioned him, his tone completely changing as he talked to Shisui “Why won’t you go to bed? Aren’t you tired?” he asked lightheartedly as he held onto his hand, “Or do you just really care about passing this universal healthcare?” Kagami continued to joke, a completely different attitude evident when it came to his son.

And as soon as that was questioned, the only thing that could be heard throughout the Oval Office was the laughing of an infant as he hugged onto his father.

Helplessly smiling despite the fact that he could feel Tobirama’s glare, Kagami just laughed at Shisui’s reaction, “Aw, your mom would be so proud-”

“Are you seriously asking an infant about the approval of the nation’s healthcare?” Tobirama interrupted, almost in disbelief.

Standing up and placing Shisui on the carpet with a handful of teethers and links, Kagami shook his head as he turned back to the President, “No, but he needs attention, because I’ve been here all day and Y/N’s in Romania.” he offered up, justifying his reasons- reasons that were caused by Tobirama’s demands. “And if we’re being realistic, Shisui probably has more education and understanding behind universal healthcare than most conservatives in Senate.”

Hearing that, Tobirama fell silent for a moment, knowing that last comment was not far off from the truth. So inhaling, he just nodded, “Very, well. Let’s just finish this, so we can both go home.”

And for a good moment, the two men were allowed to work and make progress on their decision of what was going to happen in the morning, yet that was only for a moment. Like before, it was a small unfamiliar noise that broke Tobirama’s focus on the proposed bill. Instantly looking behind himself as he heard a small hand clash against the metal post that held the nation’s flag, an immediate grimace was upon the Senju’s face as he was able to take in the scene behind him. There, right behind him, was his VP’s child just casually chewing on one of the most iconic flags in the entire world as if was nothing more than a mere toy.

Taking note that he now had an audience, Shisui looked up to the President, and just gave an ornery little smile, the flag still very much in his mouth.

And it was that cheeky little smile that made Tobirama’s grimace turn into a full on glare as he picked up the small child, no longer having the tolerance for the baby. “No- stop being disrespectful.” he commanded as if he was talking to an adult before looking to the child’s father. “I understand that he’s an Uchiha and your family does not have morals half the time, but allowing him to chew on the flag is inexcusable.” he reprimanded Kagami for allowing Shisui to crawl around and do as he pleased.

Wanting nothing more than to just go home with Shisui and go to sleep, Kagami didn’t even look up from the document as he replied to his superior, “Well then, you can hold him while I decide what the vote tomorrow will be since I am the one who gets the tie breaker vote.” he offered, never once breaking his concentration on the document.

With a shift of his glare, the President looked to the baby that he now held and just shook his head at the infant. “Just because your parents are two of the main political forces in the nation doesn’t mean you have free range in this office. I will not let you abuse these privileges, Shisui.” he lectured the baby as if he was cognitive enough to understand what was being said.

Though all this scolding did nothing, but evoke another laugh from the child. Shisui Uchiha may have only been nine months old, but in his short time alive, he had become very well aware of all the scowls and frowns that his uncle made, and even though these expressions instilled fear in many, there was something about irritating his uncle enough to cause these expressions that amused him like nothing else. Continuing that ornery little smirk, he grabbed onto his uncle’s hand and continued to play.

A small sigh escaped Tobirama, knowing that his competencies did not lie within the world of children, but if dealing with Shisui now allowed him to leave his office quicker, then he would do so. Leaning back in his chair, he allowed the infant to hold onto his hand as he glanced out the window, wanting nothing more than to have this healthcare reform decision made, so he could bask in the serenity of childless silence. And as he continued looking out into the White House pavilion, Tobirama honestly wasn’t even paying that much attention to the child in his lap until he felt a wet slobber envelope part of his hand.

Looking down in disgust as the baby began gnawing on his hand, Tobirama scrunched his nose as he questioned why his VP’s child was acting more like a dog than a human child. “Why is he trying to bite me? I didn’t do anything to him? He should be grateful I’m letting him stay in this office.” he snuffed.

Absent mindedly, Kagami answered, again not looking up to the President, “He’s teething. He can’t actually bite you; he only has two teeth right now. He’s cutting four others right now though, so he’s gnawing on everything,” Kagami explained as he kept on reading. “Just let him do it- he hates teethers and I ran out of frozen vanilla wafers, and if he’s chewing on something, it’ll stop him from crying.”

Inhaling sharply, Tobirama looked back down to Shisui from a moment and just shook his head. “Children are fowl …” he murmured out before he looked away, not wanting to see an infant gnaw on his hand as if it were a chew toy. And though Tobirama was able to distance himself from the fact that he was now no better than a piece of plastic in the eyes of Shisui, that only lasted for a moment. Snapping him back into reality -in what felt like only moment after Kagami had told him that Shisui wouldn’t bite- was a sharp pinch down on his hand and sudden sharp pain piercing through his hand.

Instantly pulling his hand back out of pure instinct, Tobirama looked down to the baby and snapped at the child, “WHAT, CHILD- WHAT ARE YOU DOING-?!” he barked at the baby before looking back to his hand, which was now sporting a deep two teeth bitemark that was now beginning to bleed.

Almost immediately stopping his work as he heard all of this commotion, Kagami was almost in disbelief as he saw Tobirama glare down at his son, holding his now bleeding hand up in the air, away from Shisui in fear for the baby would bite again. Now, if Tobirama hadn’t hit his tolerance threshold earlier, then he certainly did then, and it was evident in the evil look he was giving Shisui, who was still giving him that ornery little smile, finding the whole reaction amusing. And so knowing that this was not the prime time for his son to be acting like this, Kagami nearly bolted up and took Shisui back from Tobirama.

Glaring at Kagami almost as if he could have ended him right that second, Tobirama handed off the child. “I thought you said he wouldn’t bite-”

“He’s never bit me or Y/N-”

With his bloody hand as evidence, Tobirama shook his head in annoyance, “Kagami- do you see this; this is a bite- a bite that broke skin somehow.”

Running his free hand through his hair, Kagami just shrugged, unsure what to tell him, “I- I’m sorry; It wasn’t vicious; it’s just his teeth. He’s never done anything like that before.” he tried to defend his son, as he looked over to Shisui who was now just resting his head against his chest, as if nothing had just happened.

Still, the death glare persisted. “I am going to have a permanent scar on my hand, because of your child.”

“I don’t think that it will scar-”

Interrupting Kagami’s defense, Tobirama just shook his head. “Do you realize that when I picked you as my VP, you didn’t have children?”

“I know, Tobirama, but-”

“It should have stayed that way.” Tobirama butted in before his VP could have had a chance to explain himself. Standing up, Tobirama began walking towards the door, “I’m done for the night. Vote for whatever in the morning, I don’t care; it’s your job. I’m going to go have to wrap up my hand that your child maimed.” he announced, making his irritation with the situation known as he exited the room.

Hearing the door close, Kagami just looked over to his son and shook his head, “I know your teeth are bothering you, but you can’t bite people, you know?” he sighed as he kissed his son’s head, not upset by what just happened, but more or less just exhausted by it all, and the fact that his nine month old son had the power to cause the President to act as such. And so, picking up his messenger bag with his free hand, Kagami made sure that his important documents were in there before he began talking to Shisui again. “Let’s go home. We’re going to have to call your mother and tell her what happened before Tobirama calls her saying you threatened treason, or something,” he shrugged as they began their way out of the White House and towards their car.

Within minutes, the two curly haired Uchihas reached the black Volvo and as Kagami strapped Shisui in his carseat, he pulled out his phone and dialed the familiar number, hoping that it wasn’t too early in Romania.

Picking up the call after about the third ring, Kagami was greeted by the commonly upbeat voice, yet in this instance there was some confusion in your voice due to the uncertainty of why he would be calling at such an hour. “Hey, Babe, what’s going on? Isn’t it like one in the morning back home?” you asked him, knowing that the time difference between you was starkly different at the moment.

Putting the phone on speaker as he got into the car, so that Shisui could hear your voice, he wasn’t even quite sure of how to tell you what had happened “Y/N.”

Caught a bit off guard by his concerning tone, you frowned. “W-what happened?” you questioned, knowing that it was seldom that Kagami ever sounded so exhausted. “Are you still at a stalemate with the reform? Just vote to pass it, Kagami. It’ll help a lot of people; some of the pharmaceuticals will have issues with it, but they shouldn’t be charging over a thousand dollars for an epi-pen.” you tired, thinking that could have been the only thing that would have caused him to be so exhausted.

“Oh, don’t worry about that; I was already going to vote to pass it tomorrow,” he agreed with your thinking before getting to the point of why he called you in the middle of the night, “I just wanted to warn you that Tobirama will probably be calling you soon-”

A small sigh escaped you, “Why- what happened? What did he do now?” you questioned, not wanting to go on another impromptu business trip, because the President was terrible at handling foreign affairs and you were always the one who had to go out and fix it.

For a moment, Kagami was silent as he looked back to Shisui, who now looked like he was about to pass out, exhaustion finally hitting the infant. With a deep breathe, he offered up the truth, “Shisui bit Tobirama earlier…”

A slight pause came from you, before a slight laugh could be heard. “Oh, no. He made Tobirama a chew toy?” you joked, finding it comical that of all people your son chose to bite, it was Tobirama.

Hearing your laugh, a small smile came upon Kagami’s face before he told you the severity of it, “Yeah, but it actually bled-”

“OH-!”

“Yeah…”

“I bet he’s going to milk that as long as possible…” you remarked, knowing the Senju too well.

Kagami nodded to himself as he gave you more details to that aftermath of it, “He said he was ‘maimed,’ and ‘permanently scarred,’ by Shisui and then went on to say how he picked me as his VP before we had Shisui.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned slightly before advising something that Kagami probably was already thinking, “So, maybe we should hold off before telling him about the second baby then?”

“Yeah, I don’t think he would be able to handle the possibility of us having another child that has the ability to bite him…” the Uchiha slightly chuckled.

Joining in with the laugh, you shook your head, “Whoever would have thought that a nine month old child had the ability to test Tobirama so much?”

#happy easter rhia #lol is this shit #idk #i feel like im out of practice now #political au #tobirama #tobirama senju #kagami #kagami uchiha #shisui #shisui uchiha #BBY SHISUI #SO ORNERY #STAPH #naruto writing

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noladyme · 3 years

Text

La Cuervo - Chapter 17

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

17.

They spent the rest of the day cleaning the house, until it was probably cleaner than it ever had been. To Angel’s – and admittedly her own – great regret, it was sundown by the time they finished; not leaving time for any naked fun. Not that Angel hadn’t tried – and almost succeeded – in having his way with Nina on the kitchen floor. Only the fact that she felt an empty pack of smokes poke her in the back, made her insist he get off her, and get back to work.

They took Felipe’s truck to the scrap-yard. Nina didn’t mention Angel’s bike, knowing that the fact that it was busted, was a sore subject. Gilly opened the gate for them, and shot Nina a bright smile through the window. He nodded meaningfully at Angel, who gave him a half smile in return. Angel seemed very out of his element when they got out of the truck in front of the clubhouse; and almost naked without his cut. Nina took his hand, and squeezed it encouragingly, leading him towards the porch.

EZ and Coco were waiting for them outside the door, and Coco gave his former patch-brother a half hug, before looking at Nina. “You gotta talk to Chuck, niña… He didn’t do so good with you leaving like that”, he said. Nina sighed deeply, before turning to look at Chucky; who was coming out of the garage. She got off the porch, and walked over to him. “Chucky, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to leave without saying goodbye. And taking money from the cashbox; I know that messed with your books…”. Chucky scowled at her. “I’m not angry about that. Being angry is a waste of time”, he said. “But I amdisappointed in you”. It was like a slap to the face. Chucky had never said anything like it before. “I’m… I understand”, she said. “Do you? I was very worried about you. You could have gotten yourself hurt, or someone could have taken you; and I just didn’t know!”, he said. “You know better than that”. “I do… Can you forgive me?”. Chucky sighed. “Of course I forgive you”, he said. “But don’t ever do that again!”. He raised one of his two real fingers, and wagged it at her. Nina smiled slightly. “I promise…”, she said. She leaned forwards, and kissed his cheek. Chucky patted her shoulder, and slipped away to finish some task or other.

Nina went back onto the porch, where Gilly had joined the others waiting for her. “He was worried about you”, Coco said. “Wouldn’t even eat the pistachios Gilly cracked for him”. “That took a long ass time, too”, Gilly muttered. “Can we just go inside, so I can make one apology to cover everything I did, at one time?”, Nina sighed. “Come on”, EZ said, and opened the door for them to step inside.

The whole charter was gathered in the clubhouse. EZ went behind the bar – joining Camille, who had apparently become Nina’s substitute while she was away – and Gilly and Coco went over to join Riz and Creeper by the pool table. They weren’t playing, but stood there; deep in conversation. Angel stayed by the door, seeming unsure what to do with his hands. In the end, he settled on putting them in his pockets. Bishop, Taza and Hank came out of templo, and moved towards Nina and Angel with determined but calm steps. They stopped in front of them. Nina swallowed thickly, and looked around at all the faces trained in her direction. “Before we start, I just wanna say that I’m sorry…”, she said. “I went back on my deal with all of you, and I know you were worried about me”. “We’ll get to that”, Bishop said. “You need to step aside”. “Bishop…”, Nina tried. She felt Angel straighten his stance behind her; and she felt the urge to turn around and throw herself at him; so that he could use her as a human shield. “It’s not your place to meddle in this”, Hank said. Nina frowned at him, and was about to speak, when Taza held up his hands. “Nina, this is how it is. You know that”. Angel slipped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close. He kissed her temple. “It’s ok, cuervo. Go”, he said. He looked at EZ, who came over, and led her away, with a firm hand on her shoulder. Nina’s knees and hands where shaking, and she felt her heart beating almost painfully. She knew how MC’s worked; and what Angel had done, could mean either a beating, or something much worse. You didn’t turn your back on the club; and you certainly didn’t disrespect the patch. She should never have asked him to come.

Angel shrugged defeatedly. “I just came to get my ink blacked out, Bish’”, he said earnestly. “Shut the fuck up”, Hank said. He clearly had no intention of helping him out with that. Nina swallowed thickly, and clenched her fists. Bishop looked seriously at Angel. “You know how it is, Angel”. “I know”, Angel said, and seemingly readied himself for the worst. He shot Nina a look and a small smile. I love you, he seemed to be saying. “Taza…”, Bishop said, and the VP handed him a bundle of something. He held it in his hands for a few moments, before throwing it at Angel; who caught it mid-air. He unfolded it to reveal his cut. Bishop raised his brows at him. “Don’t ever step into this clubhouse without that patch on your back again", he said. “That’s a fine”. Angel looked confused for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah… I mean, no. Whatever you say, prez’”. Angel put on his cut, before taking Bishop’s outstretched hand. The president pulled him in for a half hug, and patted his back. Nina audibly let out a relieved sigh, and Bishop turned to look at her. “Beers”, he said, and went to sit down. Taza and Hank both hugged Angel in turn; and after them, the rest of the bikers greeted their prodigal brother. Nina delighted in the sight, and Angel shot a happy smile her way. Creeper snuck over to give her a warm hug. “Welcome home, Nina”, he said. “Thanks, Creep”, she grinned.

Smiling and feeling much better than she had a few minutes ago, she went behind the bar to get everyone’s favorite beer, but noticed that someone had messed with her system. “Where’s the Bohemia?”, she asked Camille. “Bottom shelf”, Camille muttered. “But that’s Bishop’s favorite”, Nina chuckled. “It should be on the top”. Camille smiled uncomfortably. “Sorry…”, she said. Nina gave her a bright smile. “No, don’t worry about it”, she said. “Thanks for holding down the fort while I was away”. “So you’re back for good?”, Camille asked. “It looks like it”, Nina grinned. She began lining up the beers on the bar counter, and EZ went to hand them out to the Mayans. “How have you been? Did you heal up ok?”. “I’m ok”, Camille shrugged. “And Creeper and you…?”, Nina smirked. She was in a better mood than she had been in quite a while. “We’re… I don’t know”, Camille said. She looked towards the pool table, where Riz and Angel had set up a game. “Do you think Riz would be interested in giving it another shot with me?”. Nina shook her head confusedly. “I… don’t know”, she said. “I guess I thought you were with Creep now”. “Yeah, but Riz is secretary”, Camille shrugged. Nina frowned a little at her words, before shrugging them off. “His loss, Camille”, she said. “You’ll find someone”. Camille’s eyes scanned the room. “Yeah…”, she said. EZ was about to grab a bottle of Sol, but Camille nabbed it before he could. “I got this”, she smiled, and slipped out from behind the bar; sauntering over to Hank, and setting down the beer in front of him. She gave him a flirtatious smile, and hovered by the table for a few moments, before muttering something about lipstick, and moving towards the bathroom. Hank seemed confused and slightly amused at her behavior.

Nina looked at the performance with wide eyes, before chuckling to herself; and turning to grab drinks for Coco and Gilly, who’d come over to the bar. “I told you”, Coco said. “Screwing her way into the family”. “And up the ladder”, Gilly muttered, and took a swig of his beer. “You, me and Creeper were a bump in the road. Secretario… Sergeant… Didn’t she try it on with Taza last night?” “Yeah. He shut it down”, Coco said. Nina chewed her lips to keep from laughing. She was quite sure Camille was missing a very specific body part that Taza found attractive in his partners; but it wasn’t her place to say. “I’m not part of this conversation”, she said, and grabbed a beer for herself, before going over to watch the pool-game. She gave Camille a friendly smile, as she came back from the bathroom, and took a leisurely stroll around the room.

Angel seemed to have gotten his biker-mojo back. The color had returned to his personality with his cut; and he slipped one arm around Nina when she joined him by the table. “Hey, mami”, he grinned, and attacked her mouth in a devouring kiss. Nina laughed against his lips. “There are people around!”, she said. “We could show them what a good wheelbarrow looks like”, Angel grinned, and grabbed her bottom with a firm hand. Nina looked at Riz with wide eyes. “You told him what I said…?”, she exclaimed. Riz shrugged. “Thought maybe he’d have some pointers”, he grinned. Bishop came over to the table and looked at the three of them with an amused expression. “If we’re all done laughing at Nina’s sex-life, we have a couple of things we need to discuss”, he said. Nina tore herself from Angel, and gave Riz a playful pat over the back of his head. “Not the hair!”, he groaned.

They all went to sit down around one of the larger tables. Apparently, a gavel wasn’t needed for the conversation, as they weren’t going in to templo; but everyone still sat around the table as they would have in there. There weren’t chairs enough for Nina to sit down, but as she was needed for what was to be discussed, she took a seat on Angel’s lap. EZ went for refills, and Camille sauntered over to the table to join them. She looked for a free chair, and finding none, she apparently decided to follow Nina’s example, by smiling brightly at Hank; and trying to sit down on his lap. “Whoa, honey. This is a club meeting”, he chuckled, and caught her by the hips, to keep her standing. His voice was warm, clearly trying to not make Camille feel bad about her faux pass. The red-head looked at Nina. “But I thought…”. “Time to go home, Camille”, Creeper said. He didn’t seem very happy about the fact that the girl he’d nursed back to health, and liked enough to take on trips to the ocean, was throwing her goods at his brothers. Camille frowned embarrassedly. “Ok… See you tomorrow, everyone”, she said, and headed for the door. EZ stood in the doorway, and watched her walk away, before closing the door, and nodding to Bishop.

“Alright. It looks like we got everyone here…”, the president said, and looked around at the people around the table. “This has been a weird fucking week; but we got our den-mother back behind the bar, so we should be good from here on out”. He didn’t mention that Angel had been gone as well, and Angel seemed relieved. Things were back to normal; at least somewhat. “You all know about Palo’s ultimatum”. “Nina’s head on a platter, or war”, Creeper said. “Neither option is viable in my opinion”. The men around the table all nodded, and Angel squeezed Nina’s hip gently. “You’re right. So, to avoid either outcome, we do something else. We let Palo think he’s getting Nina, when really, we’re giving him our snitch”. “I don’t like it”, Nina said. Bishop looked at her, clearly not as used to women speaking in a club meeting, as Filip was. “Well, what do you suggest, then?”, he said.

“You should just let me do what I planned all along”, Angel said. “Which is…?”, Taza said. “Angel…”, EZ said from behind the bar. He shook his head. Nina swallowed thickly. “I didn’t come back here to just go along with you plan, Bishop”, she said. The president narrowed his eyes at her. “Because it’s dangerous”, Angel said. “No”, Nina said. “Because, like I said, I don’t want anyone else dying on my account”. “Then why did you come back?”, Taza asked. Nina sighed. “Because… someone decided to throw his cut on the ground, and go rogue”. She shot Angel a hard look out of the corner of her eye. “Go rogue… What are you talking about?”, Bishop said. There was a long moment of silence, before Angel looked around at his brothers with a nervous expression. “I was gonna cross the border, and find Palo. Take care of him myself”.

A murmur of curses and words like dumbass and suicidal shit-for-brains rose around the table. Coco smacked Angel over the back of the head. “You think we’d let you do that?”, Bishop growled. “Are you really that fucking stupid, that you think we’d let you walk straight into your own execution?”. “That’s why I wasn’t gonna let you know”, Angel said. “Well, someone must have known; how else did Nina find out?”, Gilly said. “He told me”, EZ said. Bishop seemed about to say some choice words to his prospect, before EZ stepped out from behind the bar, and cut him off. “I was gonna let you know, if it came down to it. I just thought Nina would be more likely to be able to talk him out of it, than any of us”. “That’s why you wanted to come to Charming with us, in stead of holding down the fort here”, Hank said. EZ nodded. Bishop slammed his fist into the table. “This is why blood can’t sponsor blood. If Angel was still your sponsor, you would have let him go through with it; because he’d make you stay silent”. “No, that was never an option”, EZ said.

Bishop sighed. “You just added three months to your year, prospect”, he said. Angel cleared his throat. “Technically, I wasn’t patched when I told EZ. So, he didn’t owe you the information”, he said. Nina was caught off guard at Angel’s sudden show of shrewdness. “Angel’s right, Bishop”, Taza said; always the mediator. Bishop clenched his jaw, and let out a deep breath. “One month. And my bike needs polishing”, he said. “First thing in the morning”, EZ said, and went back behind the bar. He and Angel shared a knowing and very brotherly look; which made Nina want to take a picture at the scene from the sheer sweetness of it.

Coco decided to get back to business. “Prez’, no offence, but even if we did decide to go through with your plan, we still don’t know who the snitch is”. “No, but we’d buy us some time to snuff her out”, Bishop said. “But if Nina isn’t going to back us in this, we’re fucked either way”. “You sure he won’t take money?”, Riz asked. “Palo doesn’t care about money”, Taza said. “All that matters to him is his pride and reputation. The fact that he can’t get revenge for his cousins killing, makes him look weak”. “So, let’s play on that”, Angel said. “Find something that will ruin his reputation, and threaten to use it against him, if he doesn’t back down”.

Bishop seemed to ponder Angel’s words for a moment. “It might work… But it would need to be bad”, he said. “Taza, you know him the best”. “Yeah, but I haven’t kept anything from you”, the VP said. “You know everything I know”. “What do you know, though?”, Coco said. He smirked to himself, when he seemed to realize that he’d just made a rhyme. “Other than the fact that he’s an absolute psycho”, Gilly added. “He’s been president of VM since 93”, Taza said. “No one’s had the guts to challenge him”. “They’re based out of TJ; and they deal in H and guns, like us”, Bishop said. Nina frowned for a second. She had always known about the Mayans’ heroin business, but didn’t like to be reminded of it. Back when she’d found out that SAMCRO was muling for them, she’d refused to speak with Jax for a month. Angel stroked her back, clearly feeling her tense up. “We can’t use that”, Creeper said. “Don’t we have something on his family? He’s going crazy over his cousin, maybe he’s got a niece with an std, or a brother with gambling debts…”. “Nah, carnal. He killed his brother, remember?”, Coco said.

Darkness ghosted Taza’s face for a second. “Yeah, he did…”, Bishop said. “Slit his throat back in the nineties, right VP?”. “Yeah…”, Taza said. “Were you there for that?”, Angel asked. “It wasn’t a good day”. Taza took a swig of his beer, and seemed deep in thought. “But Palo never hid that”, Hank said. “If anything, he just used it to add to his rep as a crazy motherfucker, you shouldn’t mess with”. All the Mayans sat in silence for a moment, but Nina’s eyes were trained at Taza, who looked pained. “Do we know why he did it? Does anyone?”, Gilly asked. “Palo is the only member of the Vatos from back then who’s still wearing the cut”, Bishop said. “Yeah, ‘cuz the rest of them are dead”, Hank said. “Taza’s not”, Riz said. All eyes were on the vice-president. “Taza?”, Bishop said. “Why did Palo kill Davíd?”.

Nina would have fallen off Angel’s lap, if his arm wasn’t around her. “You good, querida?”, he said, looking at her worriedly. “Yeah… I just need to go… powder my nose”, she muttered in reply, and got up to stand, heading towards the bathroom. “What’s wrong?”, Bishop asked. “She’s gotta piss”, Coco said. Nina decided against throwing any more shoes at the Mayan, and simply went into the small bathroom, and closed the door as best she could. Someone really needed to fix that door.

---

Nina sat down on the lid of the toilet, and tried to calm her breathing. She knew what being gay meant in most clubs – even SOA had been hetero-exclusive up until a few years ago, when Tig got together with Venus – so, she’d never for a second thought about talking to anyone about Taza’s relationship with a man. But now it turned out his lover had been Palo’s brother – the one he’d killed, no less – and Nina was quite sure she knew why he had in fact committed that murder. Having a gay brother, in the very catholic country of Mexico – while being the president of an MC – would be a devastating blow for Palo, if it became public. This truth could save Nina’s life; and at the same time, it could be the death of Taza, if the Mayans felt like Palo. Even if they didn’t share Palo’s convictions, Nina had no right to out the man in front of his brothers.

So, there she was. She could let a person die in her place, by following Bishop’s plan; or hurt Taza, if she chose to tell the Mayans what she knew; so that they could use it to blackmail Palo into standing down. Neither option was feasible, and both options made her want to throw up violently.

There was a knock at the door. “Nina? Are you ok?”, Angel asked. She quickly flushed, and ran the tap to make it seem like she was washing her hands. “Yeah. Uh huh… Just a sec”, she called out. She looked at herself in the mirror to check that she didn’t look too flustered; and then opened the door, smiling brightly at Angel. “You were in there a long time”, he said worriedly. “Do you wanna know what it smelled like?”, she asked, and pushed him out of her way, to go grab a cigarette from his packet on the table. Nina sat down on Angel’s chair, and when he came back to the table, she grinned at him, and patted her thighs; as if inviting him to sit down. Angel chuckled, and pulled another chair from a nearby table, to sit down next to her instead.

Apparently, the conversation about something to use as blackmail against Palo had continued while she was away. “So, we don’t know why Palo killed his brother; we don’t have any other dirt on him, that he’s not using to his own advantage already…”, Angel said. “… and we don’t know who our snitch is”. “And Palo wants an answer by tomorrow night”, Bishop added. Nina let her eyes meet Taza’s for a split second, and he simply smiled at her. He took a deep breath, and was about to speak, when Nina caught him to it. “We’ll go with Bishop’s plan”, she said, with her heart in her throat. Taza looked confusedly at her. “Nah, that’s too dangerous”, Angel said. “I’ll be fine. I trust you to keep me safe”, Nina said.

Bishop looked at her with hard eyes. “Are you sure about this, Nina?”, he asked. “I don’t like it; but, yes”, Nina replied. “Ok”, Bishop said. “Now we just have to find our snitch… Taza, call up Palo first thing tomorrow. Tell him we’ll give him Nina, and that we’ll work out the details of the handoff as soon as possible. That’ll buy us a few days. Someone’s gonna fuck up at some point; and one suspect has already been eliminated”. “And killed”, Angel growled; though there was a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Everyone got to their feet, and Angel took Nina’s hand to kiss her knuckles. “I’m not gonna let you get hurt”, he promised, and she gave him a slight smile. Bishop called him over to share a few words, and Nina began gathering the empty beer bottles to recycle them. Going in to the back room to get a clean dishtowel – and to gather her thoughts – someone tapped her shoulder. She turned around and stood face to face with Taza. “Nina, I’m…”, he began. “I’m not telling anyone what you told me. That’s not my place”, Nina cut him off. Taza smiled warmly at her. “But telling the club was my decision to make”, he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt…”, Nina whispered. “I’m not just talking physically… You shouldn’t have to dig up that old wound, just for my sake”. The VP put his hand on her cheek, and shook his head defeatedly. “Kid, I’m…”.

“What is it with everyone putting their hands on my woman today?”, Angel laughed from the doorway. Taza took a step back, and held out his hands in defence. “Don’t ask me to join you in the cage. My arthritis is acting up”, he chuckled. Angel stepped over to Nina, and wrapped an arm around her. “Let’s go home, ma’”, he said. He nodded at Taza. “See you tomorrow”.

Angel led Nina out of the clubhouse, and towards the truck; when EZ came up behind them. “Hey. The garage”, he said. Angel groaned. “Man, I wanna go home… spend some time with my girl”, he said. “Just come on”, EZ said. They followed him over to the garage, and EZ pulled a tarp off something large; revealing Angel’s repaired bike. Angel ran a hand over his face, and looked at his brother. “Fuck, Ezekiel… You did this?”. “And Coco and Gilly”, EZ said. “We knew you’d be back”. Angel pulled his brother in for a tight hug. “I love you, hermano”, he muttered. “Love you too”, EZ smiled. Angel got two spare helmets from a rack, and handed one to Nina, before getting onto his bike. Nina climbed on behind him, and put her arms around his waist. Angel started up the engine, and Nina saw him grin in the mirror, at the sound of the roar.

As they drove off the lot, Nina let herself forget Palo, Davíd, and the fact that she’d probably just doomed someone to death. She was just there, seated behind her Angel; and letting herself become one with the road.

---

The house still smelled like detergent when Angel and Nina stepped inside. Angel closed the door behind them, and locked it securely; before taking off his cut. He held it up in front of him, and smiled softly. Nina was leaning against the worktable, and chewed her lip to keep from laughing. “Do you two want some privacy?”, she asked. Angel hung the cut over the back of a chair. “Shut up”, he said, stifling a grin.

They stood for a long time, just smiling at each other, before Angel finally spoke. “Take your clothes off”. Nina’s smile widened. “Excuse me? What’s the magic word”, she said. Angel walked towards her, as if on the prowl. “Take your fucking clothes off… please”. Nina stepped towards him, meeting him in the middle of the room. “Do it for me”, she said.

Angel let out a short laugh, before he grabbed her hands, and raised them in the air. Slowly, he pulled Nina’s top over her head, and then – after stroking his knuckles down between her breasts and over her belly – he undid the button on her shorts; and pulled them down her legs. His hands stroked the skin of her calves and thighs on his way up; and once he was standing again, he cupped her face, and placed a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you…”, he whispered. “I know”, Nina smiled. Angel pulled back, and frowned. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say”. “Thank you?”, Nina teased. Angel let out a groan, and slipped his arms around her; cupping her bottom. “Nina…”, he said. “I love you, Angel”. A grin spread across Angel’s face, and he kissed her again. Nina let herself melt against his chest; but before she knew what happened, he had picked her up, and thrown her over his shoulder. “Let’s go”, he said, and slapped her butt; before carrying her into the bedroom.

Nina giggled like a schoolgirl, as she was thrown onto the bed. Angel went to put his gun on the nightstand; then looked down at her for a few seconds, before shedding his t-shirt, and shrugging of his jeans with almost superhuman speed. She spread her legs to invite him in, and Angel laid down between her thighs; pressing his hardness against her warmth. “Oh, my…”, Nina gasped. The sensation was almost too intense to handle, after being apart for so long, and she locked her right leg around his hips, to keep him close. As they kissed – both obviously relishing in the taste of the other – Angel grinded against Nina; and the friction was enough to make Nina feel that familiar heat that always came before an orgasm, spread through her body. She dug her nails into Angel’s back, and whimpered against his lips. “Already?”, Angel chuckled. “I missed you…”, Nina breathed. “Missed this… oh god!”. Angel had thrusted hard against her, and caught her lips in another deep kiss.

Nina arched her back, and Angel opened her bra; quickly pulling it off her. One of his hands found her nipple, and he rolled the little bud between two fingers. Attacking her neck with kisses and nibbling at the sensitive skin here, he continued moving against her. Angels penis was rubbing against her labia, and the head was bumping against her clit perfectly. In spite of the barrier of their underwear, before long, Nina cried out, her climax washing over her like overwhelming waves. “Fuck, querida. Making you come is my favorite thing in the world”, Angel breathed. “I gotta be inside you”. He moved off her to shrug of his boxers, and Nina pulled at her panties; letting Angel take over the task of getting them off, once they were down by her knees.

As soon as he was back between her legs, Angel used his hand to guide his cock to her entrance, and pushed in to her. “Yes…”, Nina gasped. Angel grabbed her thigh, and made her lock her leg around his hips again. Nina threw her arms around his waist, and dug her fingers into his butt-cheeks, to try to push him deeper into her with every thrust. She clenched her muscles around Angel’s cock; willing him to never leave her warmth. Angel dug his fingers into Nina’s hair, and his free arm hooked under her knee; giving him the perfect angle to make her whimpers turn in to loud mewls. “Give me one more, mami”, Angel demanded; and at his words, Nina fell over the edge again. Angel used her orgasm to reach his own high point; and with a loud groan, he came inside her.

It wasn’t the longest session they’d ever had, and they were both much too tired for a round two; but as they lay there, looking into each other’s eyes, that didn’t matter. They were together again, and they’d have many more nights to get lost in each other. Angel pressed his lips against Nina’s, and turned them around, so that she was draped over his chest. She fell asleep with him still inside her.

---

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes smut #clayton cardenas #coco cruz #mayans mc fic #ez reyes

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whenwenjunhui-blog · 7 years

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Can You Feel It? (pt 1/2) [M]

Summary: Yeo One is your true enemy. He tries to take over your student council duties daily. He’s always flaunting his popularity. He always has something smart ass to say to you or about you. So what happens when you find him tied up in the classroom after hours? You can do anything to him that you want. Revenge might feel great, but who would have the last word?

Warnings: Bondage, orgasm denial, various kinks, exhibitionism, all sorts of lechery. It’s all in good fun, though.

Note: Extremely dirty. I would like to apologize for writing this in advance. OTL Read at your own risk. I know Changgu would never be a jerk like this but wouldn’t it be fun if he was? Also, I know nothing about Student Council so I just made everything up! Hooray!

As I walked into the classroom on Friday morning I saw the usual sight. Changgu hadn’t picked up the materials for today’s class and instead he was sitting at his desk with his friends surrounding him, talking animatedly and laughing. No doubt he was telling fantastic stories about his latest date.

I shoved my way through the throng of overly tall boys who were his friends. “Changgu, did you get the homeroom materials for today?”

Changgu sighed at having his story interrupted. He looked at me dismissively, straightening his tie. “Can’t you do it?”

“Why would I do it? It’s your job, not mine.”

“But I’m busy right now,” he said, having the nerve to give me his stupid aegyo face – the one with the big innocent eyes and puffy baby cheeks. “Can’t you do it?”

He always does this. He expects to get away with everything. He’s always shirking his duties as Vice President simply because he is hot and popular and everyone likes him. If he thinks the same childish act he uses on other girls will work on me, he can think again.

“I have to prepare for the student council meeting. I have things to do right now. So you go do it. Also, I need the agenda for today’s Student Council meeting,” I said, sticking my hand out.

He’d better have done it or I swear to God. The school festival starts next week and I have too many things to do. Not to mention my own VP will be no help at all.

“Uh….” He said, scratching his ear and looking around guiltily.

All his friends began to snicker, knowing that he hadn’t done it and that I would get angry, as I always did.

“Did you not do it? Again?!” I cried. “How hard is it, Changgu?”

“I just got busy last night. I had a date with a very hot girl. I mean you should have seen her. I was just in the middle of telling everyone about it, but then you ruined it,” he told me, frowning dramatically.

“How can you say something like that with a straight face?” I questioned.

“Come on, you’re a straight A student, it’s nothing for you to write up the agenda right quick,” said E Dawn. “Right?”

I stared at him so coldly it made him visibly wither. I pointed a finger to Changgu. “This jerk right here is a straight A student too! And even if he wasn’t, he should do the things he’s responsible for, right?”

Everyone began to sigh and go back to their seats, complaining that I killed the fun and ruined their joy, calling me a killjoy and a warden. Changgu fake coughed into his hand while saying the word “Buzzkill!”

I sighed and put my hands on my hips, waiting, but Changgu still didn’t get up to get the supplies. He just made himself comfy in his seat, stretching out his long legs and then popping some fruit-flavored gum into his mouth. He chewed it loudly while playing with his floppy black hair. All the while I stood there, eyes burning with hatred.

“Seriously, Jia, if you stick with this uptight routine of yours, you’re not gonna have any friends,” he said, casually.

My fists clenched at my side. I wanted to say something but I was furious beyond words. I just let out a tortured scream and left the room.

I stomped down the hall to the teacher’s lounge to find out what materials were on the list for the day. Then I gathered those from the office. The list was huge, but I just wanted to get it done so I lifted the giant stack of books and handouts and scurried back to the classroom.

I was almost through the door when I tripped on my own shoelace and found myself going down. “Whoa,” I blurted out, trying to shift the weight in my arms to correct my balance, but it was too late. “Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa!” I cried, as I fell and everything went sliding across the floor. Including me. The room erupted in laughter.

Thankfully a few of my friends ran over to help me. As I got to my feet I spied Changgu, hiding behind his hands, laughing.

I narrowed my eyes at him and he shut up, glancing away.

“Are you okay?” asked my friend, Chanyeol, who had easily helped me to my feet and was now brushing me off and checking me over for injury.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You need to be more careful. Next time you need to carry this much stuff just come get me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He started to pick up the books. “I’ll hand these out for you. You just sit.”

“Thanks oppa,” I said.

I heard a little scoff and I glanced over to see Changgu sneering in our direction.

I flipped him off and went to my seat to sit and mentally strike the past 5 minutes from my memory forever.

Later that morning I was in the student council office waiting for the others to arrive. All the junior officers filed in a bit early, and as the time came to start the meeting, only Changgu was missing.

“Should we start?” asked the Secretary.

I sighed and tapped my foot, my arms crossed over my chest. “Yes. Let’s just start anyway,” I said. “As you all know, the festival starts next week and in keeping with the season we’ll be having a Halloween theme –“

“Check out my costume!” bellowed Changgu, as he came running into the room. He didn’t even care that I was speaking or that he was late. He was holding up his costume. “I’m gonna be a pirate!”

“No way! That is so cool!” our Treasurer cried. Everyone else leaped up and gathered around Changgu praising his costume, calling it sexy. “Where did you get it?” they asked.

“Heein from the drama club made it for me. She’s great with sewing.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course Heein volunteered to hand sew a whole costume for him. When does Yeo Changgu not get his ass kissed?

Yet the members chattered on excitedly.

“I know! That is so cool! Her work is amazing. I saw it in the school play. She made these french renaissance ball gowns that were incredible! This material is fantastic!” On and on they went.

They then moved on to discussing their own costumes and all of them were chattering about the haunted house when I finally lost patience and banged the gavel extra loud like six times in a row making everyone jump and stare at me with edgy wide-eyed looks.

“Order! Order! This meeting has come to order here!” I cried wildly. “What is wrong with you people? This is not free period! Pull it together for gods sake!”

“Okay okay!” people began to say, scurrying to their seats.

“Please take your seat, Vice President YEO?” I seethed, narrowing my eyes at him and pointing to the vacant seat at my side.

Changgu strolled over and sat, turning in his seat to air kiss at me.

I frowned and shuddered in revulsion. He just laughed and blew bubbles with his gum. Then he propped his feet up on the nearby empty chair.

It was a nightmare. He was so horrible, yet I couldn’t even call him stupid since aside from his aforementioned wonderful grades, he wrote witty and entertaining essays for the school paper weekly, and had beaten me on the college entrance exams just two weeks prior. He was 5 points higher than me, which he never failed to mention. Everything he actually cared about doing he was great at. His Student Council duties just didn’t seem to make the cut.

“As I was saying. The festival – “

“Is gonna be lit!” Changgu crowed, causing everyone to cheer and begin to chatter again.

I sighed and just sat there rubbing my forehead as Changgu proceeded to preside over the meeting however he saw fit. He was making all sorts of plans that were stupid and that we didn’t even have the money for, but he wouldn’t know that because he never checked the budget like he was supposed to.

I just sat there rubbing my nose and praying to every deity that might possibly exist for the strength to resist killing him.

Finally, someone remembered I was there. “So, who is going to oversee the organizing of the booths?” the Secretary asked me.

“That is VP Yeo’s job,” I said.

“Yeah, but about that. I don’t really want to – “ he began.

I turned my head to glare at him; my eyes were like two burning coals. “Just do it!” I growled.

“But why?”

“Because I said so.”

“But I would rather just -”

“I don’t care what you would rather do! Just do what I tell you to do! Do it! Why? Because I am the President and I’m telling you to do it!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

Everyone fell silent, staring at me like I was some kind of heinous sea monster.

“Fine,” Changgu said, frowning. He sat there with his shoulders low, moping and nibbling on his fingernails.

I couldn’t stand it anymore and just banged the gavel. “Meeting adjourned,” I said.

Changgu got up in a huff and slunk his way out of the room. Everybody else followed, quiet, but shooting me accusing looks.

I tried to just put it all behind me and focus on the things I had to do, but after I packed up and left the room I saw a group of Student Council members in the hallway gathered by the stairs talking. I heard my name come up and as I got near them I heard them badmouthing me.

“She’s so mean.”

“She didn’t have to yell at him. That’s so embarrassing.”

“I know, right? Poor Changgu. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Changgu is so nice. He’s like so sweet.”

“I know right? He is a total sweetheart. How could she yell at him like that?”

“She probably also kicks puppies.”

“She probably kicks lots of puppies. She looks like a puppy kicker.”

“I wish Changgu was President instead of her.”

“Me too.”

“Me three. I didn’t even vote for her. She’s evil.”

“She’s always trying to show off. It’s like ‘okay, you’re smart, we get it.’”

“Right. There’s more to life than knowing everything.”

One of them saw me walking past and they all dropped their voices and carried on walking, eventually turning down another hall while still shooting me accusing looks until they finally disappeared.

Unbelievable! He has managed to turn everyone in the Student Council against me. The Student Council was mine! They should be my friends, not his! They don’t even know half the stuff this guy does to me, and yet I’m the one they hate? It’s so unfair!

Ugh. I’ll get you for this, Yeo Changgu. I will! If it’s the last thing I ever do!

The most wretched day of my existence had finally wound down to a close and I was looking forward to just going home, after spending some time helping teachers and tutoring some younger students after school in Math. As I left my locker, I saw Pentagon gathering in the hall looking sneaky and giggling. Well, Pentagon minus one douchebag. Then I heard Yeo One yelling from down the hall.

“Yah! What is this?! Guys? Guys, this is not funny! Come back here! You let me out of this! This is not funny! Yah, I don’t have time for this, I have a date later!”

Pentagon just laughed and laughed, then turned to leave.

I cleared my throat alerting them to my presence before they could pass me. “What happened back there?” I asked, nodding towards where Changgu could still be heard mumbling threats.

“Oh Changgu was taking a nap on the desk in the student council office so I tied him up with my mummy costume,” E Dawn said.

I laughed and laughed, So did the rest of Pentagon.

“Do you think he’ll get free?” I asked.

E Dawn shook his head and snickered. “He can’t. I tied both his arms and legs pretty tight,” he said, then cackled with glee. “This is perfect payback for what he did to me last Wednesday. I still have rug burn from that,” he said, rubbing his arm with a frown.

“Guys, I don’t know. Shouldn’t we let him go?” asked Kino. “I’m starting to feel kind of bad now. Everyone’s gone home now. It’s getting creepy in here.”

“That just makes it even better,” giggled Jinho. “Let’s go get food and come back in like a couple hours?”

“Okay!” said Hongsoek “He’ll be really pissed by then.”

With that, they all moved out, headed to get food.

I couldn’t believe they just left, but I was far too curious. I had to go see for myself, so I went down the hall to the Student Council office, where Yeo One had finally gone silent.

When I opened the door, a beautiful sight met my eyes: there lay my enemy, tied up on the desk totally immoblized.

“Oh ho ho ho ho ho!” I squealed in rapturous delight. I got so excited I had to fan my face a little.

Changgu’s brow lowered and he glared at me. “You,” he growled.

“What have we here?” I mocked, sauntering into the room with a smug grin. “Look at you, all tied up and left on my desk like a big old present. All that’s missing is a bow.”

Changgu struggled in his bonds as I approached but he could not get free.

“Look who’s not so powerful now.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor and hopped onto the desk beside him, looking down at him with joy. I laughed. Then I laughed some more. Then I laughed some more.

“Yes, it’s funny. It’s so hilarious. Laugh it up all you like. But just do me a favor and untie me? Get me out of these ropes.”

“Do you a favor? Now why would I do that?” I asked, my eyes never leaving his. “When have you ever done me any favors?”

Changgu couldn’t seem to recall a single instance, but that didn’t stop him from whining and doing some bad aegyo. “Come on, don’t be like that? This desk is really hard. I’m so uncomfortable. Come on? Let me go? Have a heart?”

“Oh don’t you know? I’m the infamous puppy kicking killjoy, I don’t have a heart! There will be no favors for you today. In fact, this seems like a perfect opportunity for me.”

His head cocked to the side. “To do what?”

“Well, to exact my revenge, of course.”

He started looking around for an escape. “Uh…revenge for what?”

“For torturing me daily. You know, I never wanted you as my Vice President. You were voted in due to the popularity you bought with your pretty face and your parents’ money. And who had to suffer for it? Me. Now, it’s my time.”

Changgu went stiff, looking like he was finally catching on to what was about to happen to him.

“What’s wrong? Nervous?” I asked, leaning closer.

“Look, I know that I’ve taken my duties a little too lightly – “

“A little?”

“And I’ve been a bit of a jerk to you….”

“A bit?”

“Okay, a lot! But its only because….”

I waited.

He struggled for words.

I waited.

I started to think he was going to say something unbelievable, like that he liked me or something. As he continued to struggle I leaned closer.

He still didn’t speak, he only chewed on his lower lip looking flustered. “It’s because….” He continued.

I leaned closer, eager now to hear why he’d made my life so unbearable these past months.

He frowned then pouted. “Because I really don’t like you,” he finally said with a devious little smirk. He then snorted a little as he tried to hold in his laughter.

I laughed heartily but rage bubbled up in my chest.

“You’re no fun at all. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” he giggled.

“Oh my. Okay,” I said, smoothing my hair. “Well, you really don’t know when to quit, do you? Fine. Okay. Let’s play, Changgu.”

Part two is nowhere near done yet but it will come eventually! Hope you enjoyed it so far

#yeo one #yeo one smut #changgu #pentagon smut #kpop #scenarios #kpop smut

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katrinapavela · 7 years

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Rowan is connected to Liv’s Kidnapping and Fitz’s Attempted Assassination?: A Theory

NB: I just wanted to post two excerpts from things I’ve written in the past. I have been holding on to the belief that Rowan is connected to both Olivia’s kidnapping and Fitz’s attempted assassination. Since S4. With the new Mystery Woman, it seems like some of this may be relevant again. IDK.

Anyway, the excerpts after the jump are taken from

Scandal Season 4 Theory that’s Probably Wrong, but Still Entertaining to Me… (30th April, 2015)

The Madness of Queen Liv: #Scandal 517 Reflections (13th April, 2016)

S4:

“I’ve discussed some of these ideas with a few people and thought I’d just write them down. Yes, I’m well aware that this is written with Olitz lenses. It’s just me thinking, and most of it is probably wrong (which I’m used to), but here goes…

If Rowan is connected to Liv’s kidnapping, then… my dissatisfaction begin to make sense.

The Logistics:

How could Andrew, the VP, have the entire Secret Service replaced? How does he know ex-Special OPs guys like Ian? Sure, Andrew had motive to have Fitz trussed up by the proverbial balls for the tenure of his presidency, but why was he so adamant that Olivia remain unharmed (411)? Andrew has absolutely no investment in her physical well-being, nor do I think he was just being kind-hearted all of a sudden. How could Rowan, a man that has claimed to have done everything in his life for Olivia (407), refuse to lift a finger when Jake came to him for help(413)? He said he had no daughter. Six episodes later, he’s a papa who’s proud of his “girl” because she stopped “shining” Fitz’s shoes and is “standing on [her] own” (419)?

But then I remember that Rowan knows Special Ops and Black Ops guys. After all, he ordered Fitz to shoot down a commercial airplane in a Black Ops mission (307). Rowan had already infiltrated Secret Service with B6-13 agents (Tom) in order to keep abreast of White House goings-ons (312). So, replacing the entire team: easy. And the only person who has ever proffered Olivia’s physical safety to the detriment of her psychological, and emotional well-being, is Rowan. But why? How could he do that to his daughter?

Actually, this is exactly the kind of thing he’s perpetrated against Olivia for years. All done to toughen her up into some kind of steely, strong black woman archetype, that is only ever subservient one thing: his black patriarchal authority. This authority, she is told over and over again, is for her protection. This is the man who let his 12 year old believe her mother was dead, while he locked that mother away in isolation for her crime, and never let her see any evidence of her daughter’s development. Not even a fucking news clipping (not until she chewed through her own wrists (308)). He never let that daughter come back home; he sent her away (301). Sure, she received the finest education and learned a bunch of languages that have come in handy, but she is not OK. Rowan is the guy who, when Olivia was set to see Fitz again after a painful 10 month breakup (post-defiance), had his double agent, Jake Ballard, conveniently intervene in his daughter’s life. Why? To occupy her mind before she was set to see Fitz as Ella’s christening. I guess he didn’t plan on them fucking in a server closet. Woops. He sent his guy in to sleep with Olivia (405 admission), then had that evidence presented to Fitz. The purpose? A misogynistic belief that Fitz sees Olivia as his property, and since the property has been “defiled” (310) by another man, Fitz would no longer care for that property. Russell is yet another toy for Olivia to play with, and another means for extracting information in order to stay ahead of her. Rowan is also the guy who allowed his daughter’s name to be leaked by his own B6-13 agent, Tom, (301), when he obviously had the power to quash it. Why? Because it would conveniently allow him to get Olivia away from that “disappointing” (310) Fitzgerald Grant. He insisted that she would get on that plane “come hell or high water” (301). Seventeen episodes later, Olivia was checkmated into doing so (318). Bonus points for allowing her to think it was of her own volition. Lastly, Rowan is the guy who killed Fitz’s son for a dual purpose. Doing so gave his daughter another achievement under her belt because Fitz won; and it drove–what he hoped would be–a permanent wedge between them. “What love could survive that” (405), he said, as he built a rationale for the framing of Jake Ballard for his (Rowan’s) own crime.

In light of all of that, kidnapping and war actually fit perfectly with Rowan’s MO.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if the kidnapping plan was put in place the moment Liv returned to DC. Rowan told her he didn’t tell her she could leave (401)). This return to B6-13 and Rowan would make sense to me if Rowan is tied into the kidnapping. Otherwise, episodes 410-413 feel like a bizarre sweeps attempt.

Olivia is not a woman who reaches for personal help. For her career, sure. In some ways, Olivia can’t make a full emotional recovery while instituting a Cold War with Fitz. That coldness and anger are taxing on the body and mind because they take work to maintain. But it’s a sacrifice to freedom and justice. Olivia cannot be the woman she wants to be, or command control of her life while Rowan remains free to inflict all manner of violence and abuse in her name. She cannot fully recover, or have anything with Fitz (the person who knows her best on an emotional level), while Rowan remains unpunished. He will destroy it. If the kidnapping is any indication, he will truly stop at nothing to make Olivia into the woman he thinks she should be. Whoever that woman is supposed to be, she isn’t to be with someone Rowan finds threatening. And Fitz is threatening because he represents actual love. Something Olivia wants, yet fears. She fears it more than the actual fear and terror her father inflicts.

From 517:

“Lastly, the killing of Andrew has an obvious parallel with the attempted assassination of Fitz. The promo for the episode shows clips from 207/208 and 409/410 to explicitly link the two. Fitz took three bullets on Verna’s orders, but managed to survive. Verna then had the unmitigated gall to blame Fitz for the fact that she and others were “made” to love him, and therefore commit crimes in his name. It had nothing whatsoever to do with their own ambitions, which depended on Fitz’s office. Besides being an unsatisfactory answer, Verna’s reason sounds awfully reminiscent of the shit Cyrus, Mellie, and now Olivia (with Abby) have used to justify their actions. Fitz is to blame for everything they do behind his back, despite the fact that they would likely do it for anyone holding that office. Anyone who trusted them enough.

Verna tries to upend who Fitz had imagined he was, playing on the insecurities his abusive father drilled in his head—he’ll never be good enough (213). Andrew, too, used very similar trigger buttons we’ve heard Rowan use in the past toward Olivia (301, 305, 409, 419). Discovering that the cabal of Defiance included Olivia, Fitz quickens Verna’s descent to hell. The act protects his legacy as well as the DC5 from jail, with Olivia’s being the most important freedom to protect from among the five collaborators. Here, too, Andrew blames Olivia for destroying his life though he was the one coordinating her attempted destruction through Special Ops forces (very similar to Verna with ex-B613 member, “Becky”). What is different in Olivia’s case with Andrew is that his destruction had everything to do with Olivia and no one else, not even her candidate, Mellie—though I bet she would like to imagine otherwise. By going to war, Fitz asserted that Olivia’s black life mattered to him. Now Olivia, with a metal chair that recalls the chair laid over the body of Brandon Parker by his father (414, h/t @Janekas, Twitter), asserts for herself that her black life does matter, contrary to Andrew’s words.

The Rowan Factor

I have talked around what, to me, has seemed obvious since the second half of season 4: Rowan must be connected to Olivia’s kidnapping; Andrew’s resurgence; and the attempted assassination on Fitz. There are clues in this episode that intimate Rowan’s connection, and we see symbolic representations manifested in Olivia’s memory and PTSD episodes. Those things are: the color red (pyjamas and red doors—kidnapping and Rowan’s door); the record player and records Rowan brought to her in an attempt to recall happy childhood memories (when he still believed she was his progeny?); the song playing as she attempted to shrug her father off through dance; and the spilling of the red wine (his influence on her (302). Rowan, a unisex name, means “little red one” (h/t @teawaldo). The record player is nostalgia, but also spins ‘round and round in circles (Olivia’s direction since Rowan re-appeared in her life). And the spilling of wine indicates both blood and sacrifice (h/t @vvhallom). Rowan is her blood and her kidnapping is a sacrifice for her greatness. You see, the kidnapping was meant to break Olivia, cause irrevocable strife between her and Fitz (who wants to be used as a pawn in a dick swinging contest?). Moreover, she was to turn cold, angry, selfish, and replace the power of love with the power of …power, one that served her instead of “shined [Fitz’s] shoes” (419). When she couldn’t make it work in an honest way with Fitz (how could she, having paid no attention to her mental health), she defaulted right back to this position.

I know what you’re thinking: Kat, this is a bit much. You’re biased because you have never appreciated Rowan, so you want to blame him for everything. Besides, the writers aren’t smart enough to link all these things. This theory is a little out there. I also admit that, though I love Joe Morton and think Rowan is actually a great character because he stirs so much emotion in me, I cannot stand Rowan as Olivia’s father. He does not behave toward her as a father should, and never has. It has pained me so much that outfits like Afterbuzz, other outlets, and otherwise ‘woke’ people on Twitter have praised this man as some ‘strong black father’ figure whose abuse is seen as ‘tough love’. Get the entire fuck out of here. That kind of thinking comes from people who have justified abuse from family members in their own lives because of the shame associated with victims of abuse in our society. This is especially the case for those who don’t have physical scars to show for it. As someone who has been through emotional manipulation by a parent at various points in her life; early abandonment by her father; physical abandonment by her mother at the age of 12 due to prison, and had to eventually seek therapy years later for suppressing the effects of all of that, I know what the fuck I am talking about, even if I am biased.

Furthermore, we see Olivia doing the exact same justifications as a victim of abuse, including her repeated association with the dirty bathroom that is Jake Ballard, when she is lost. They are siblings of Rowan’s abuse, who have repeated those patterns with each other in addiction. This is why Jake is both terrible for her and also the reason why she keeps going back to him. A healthy Olivia Pope wouldn’t’ give this man the time of day. If you don’t believe our society’s penchant for blaming victims and defining them as “dumb”, look no further than to some of Scandal’s fans. Don’t say but, but, it’s the show runner who is writing Olivia as dumb because she doesn’t respect her own character enough. That’s not what my eyes see. I see a show-runner using the novelistic tradition of show-don’t-tell to portray a story about a woman trying to define herself against the struggles of various forces of patriarchy (including racism and misogynoir—all descendants of white patriarchal supremacy) wielded against her, and the influences of her own emotionally deprived upbringing. Olivia may be brilliant, bold and beautiful, but she is still a Mis-educated Negress in America trying to find her way.

Back to the Rowan factor. As I have mentioned before, the people who supposedly coordinated Olivia’s kidnapping (Andrew) and Fitz’s assassination (Verna) both used either Special Ops forces or ex-B6-13 members. Neither Andrew, nor Verna have cause to be associated with such people, but Rowan does. The level of coordination it took behind the scenes for both these events far-outweighed the capabilities of Andrew (a second rate politician) and Verna (the old lady judge). They didn’t have the pull. And if Rowan is as omnipotent and omniscient as he portrays himself to be, none of this could have taken place without his knowledge. Never forget that he allowed his own agent (Tom) to out Olivia’s name as Fitz’s mistress when he had the power to stop it. But he didn’t because letting Fitz out her, via, Tom (301) served Rowan’s agenda. Underneath it all, the aim of both these events was to break the emotional connection Olivia formed with Fitz.

“No family. That’s the first rule… No families, no connections. No sun on the horizon. Nothing to wish for. You’re now the property of the United States government, division B6-13… You come to work at acme limited. You fake-sell fake paper, and you run the world in a way that no one even imagines exists in real life, and then, little by little, you’ve been places… And you’ve done things, and there’s been so much blood. This becomes your home. This becomes your family. And you can’t imagine any other life” (Jake, 313).

Does the above not sound pretty much like the path Olivia has been on for the last three seasons, courtesy of the man who developed that ethos? Rowan essentially sees himself as power; the one who makes democracy possible (301). Three ex-B6-13 guys, over three seasons, have told Olivia, more or less, that she’s been treated by Rowan as a B6-13 agent: Jake (317), Tom (407), and Huck (512). She’s been in denial every time that Rowan was a father who would always love his ‘baby girl’, no matter what she did, no matter how many times she tried to shut him down, or walk away from him (304, 317, 405, 512). Contrast that with someone else to whom she’s done similar things, but, perhaps, lost hope that he could possibly still love her. Right.

With this justified homicide of Andrew on top of killing one of her previous kidnappers, letting the murderer of her lover’s son out of jail (506), aborting the only real shot at family she’s ever had (509), compelling the suicide of an innocent man (516), Olivia has now “done things” from which she, perhaps, doubts she can’t turn back. And to which “family” does she turn in the end, once she’s become a monster? Think about who encouraged her it was the only answer. And why would Andrew have any incentive right now to raise Fitz’s going to war for Olivia? Could it have anything to do with Fitz’s recent tentative involvement in Olivia’s life? Think about it. Andrew already blamed Olivia for his demise (it was her goon (Huck) who injected him with stroke medication (413)), and he’s wanted to tank Mellie’s political run since 412. He could have achieved that with the story Abby came up with—“Mellie Grant: One Affair, Many Lies” (lol). That leads me to Lillian. Why her? Recall that in 512 there was a leaked photo of Lillian in the WH parking lot after a tryst. Who has the incentive and the planted eyes (::cough:: Jake as NSA head ::cough) to get that photo? But Lillian is not just an ambitious, Pulitzer-winning journalist (511), she’s also thirsty in more ways than one, and has the connection to Fitzgerald to exploit. I’m just saying, this is all a little too convenient and smells of Rowan. He uses people who have grudges. All of this allows him to let the Republicans destroy themselves while he and his black Democrat, Edison, pop their collars.

I’ve worked hard to repair my relationship with both parents, but they put in work, too, and actually had real love for me. Because I think Rowan wears a parental mask and is not actually Olivia’s father (how could he treat her as he does?), I think he’s incapable of having an equitable relationship with Olivia wherein he can’t play Zeus with her puppet strings. That’s not a father. Rowan has always been more invested in the idea of “the formidable Olivia Pope” (310), than he has been in the actual woman. Hopefully, somewhere inside Olivia she can still imagine another life that bridges the gap between her current reality and her indulgent Vermont fantasy (410).

#Scandal #olivia pope #rowan pope #what is this all for #i don't want to see liv get any more fucked up

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