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ggukkiereads · 4 years ago

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Fic Recs | Fake Dating AUs

This is based on asks for fake dating fics. Most of these favorites are reblogged with reviews. Others are still ongoing series I am reading whenever there is an update.

Members are organized per number of fake dating participation 😂

Jungkook

Mutual Help @personasintro - [39/?] | literally the only reason I visit Wattpad. | semi fake dating AU, Bestfriend AU, FWB AU, Slow Burn | F, S, A

Aphrodite in War @jungblue - [2/?] | Exes AU, Fake Dating, Fratboy/Greek Life, Roommate AU, Enemies to Lovers | F, S, A (one of my favorite authors too! Like read all her fics)

Bitchin @kinktae - series [10/10 + 10 Years After] | fake dating, college au, jock!jk, smart!reader, E2L #holygrailfic (⭐)

Blush @jhsbrat - JJK | one shot | friends to lovers, feat Jin (I remember looking everywhere for this because I thought the author deactivated 😭 so I was glad it got reposted)

The Proposal @hansolmates - JJK one shot | editor!jungkook x assistant, like the movie The Proposal

My Euphoria @moyochu - JJK | one shot | CEO!JK, Florist!OC, bought chocolate cosmos from her shop for his Mom and a plan ensues when OC needed a fake boyfriend (I reco’d this during one network’s JK’s week last year because I just adore how fluffy this fic is I binged on their fluffy catalog one time and I recommend their other works!)

Proposals @pjxmin - JJK | one shot | pretend proposals to get free food from restaurants 🤭

Dating Plan @/jjkthclub - JJK | one shot | enemies to lovers, childhood friends, actually it’s more of a “Dating Trial” just so the moms will leave them alone (🥰)

Piss Off Your Parents @littlemisskookie - JJK | one shot | Rich Kids who hate the pressure from their parents but JK is a rebel and OC roomed with him (and fake dated him) to piss off the parents (⭐)

Love to Hate You @latetaektalk - JJK | series [4/?] | fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, enemies to lovers! AU, rich kid! AU, angst, fluff

Anpanman @honeymoonjin - JJK | one shot | fake date to get therapy (this is also hilarious?!?! like ridiculous premise but the author made it work. Anyway the link leads to my reblog and you can read my comments if you need convincing 🤭)

Moonlight Melody + Part 2 @/gukyi - JJK | two shot | 50k | fake dating, orchestra AU (part of this fic rec list)

Coffee Shop Contract @/gukyi - JJK | one shot | 18k | fake dating, college AU

Better Late Than Never @rosaetae - JJK drabble, exes AU, fake dating (I love this scenario, there’s one funny moment here with Jungkook saying his feelings through a door)

End Game @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong - JJK | one shot | 12.1k | soccer player x cheerleader, fake dating AU, ex-Namjoon

One Thing Right by hobios (now on AO3) - JJK | series [8/8] | more on fake marriage than fake dating but I’m throwing this in because this is my #holygrailfic

Play Pretend @seokoloqy - JJK | one shot | 8.6k | Athlete AU, Jock AU, Soccer Player!JK, Fake Dating AU, Friends to Lovers AU | S, A

The B.S.T. Mission @singguks - JJK | 11.2k | Secret Agents AU, Fake Dating AU | A, F, S ~ ongoing [3/?]

ILYSB @rkiverse - JJK | one shot | 11.1k | idol au, broken-hearted jungkook, love clinic staff reader, fake dating but not really (more of part of therapy) | F, A

It’s All Fun and Games @/cupofteaguk - JJK | one shot | slow burn, set up on blind date so they pretended to be dating to shut others up 🥰

Collar Full @minloop - JJK | fluff, smut, friends to lovers, college au, ‘fake dating’ au for Jungkook's love project

True Care @joonsgalaxy - JJK | series [7.5/?] | bodyguard!jungkook fake dating

Baby I’m a Fool @suhdays - JJK | one shot | enemies to lovers, coworker

Blank Check @pantaemonium and @sugaxjpg - JJK | series [5/?] | fake dating AU, college AU, fratboy AU, fuckboy AU, jock!jk (been following this fic for years 🥰)

Beautiful Confession @btsracket - JJK | one shot | Friends to Lovers, OC just lost her job + boyfriend and only childhood friend to turn to

It Takes Two @junghelioseok - JJK | one shot | Christmas AU, fake dating, roommate au

From Home @gyukult - JJK | series [12/12] | rich kid!jk (but he was cut off and has to learn how to earn on his own), baker!reader, enemies to lovers, fake dating

I Wished I missed My Ex @angelguk - JJK | one shot | College AU, Fake Dating

The Wedding Date @jjungkookislife - JJK | one shot | fake date for wedding

💜 Jungkook is Over Party (#JungkookisOverParty) @extravaguk - series [4/?] | 11k+ | Fake Dating, College AU, Himbo!JK, Smart!Reader | F (so far)

→ Fics with parts/chapters of fake dating:

Cream and Sugar @gukslut - series [6/6] | Smut, Humor, Escort AU, Barista AU, Enemies to Lovers, Asshole!Jungkook (this is also a gem! must read) 🥕

Midas @/gukyi - one shot | enemies to lovers, magical realism, CEO AU, OC has invisibility and JK turns stuff into gold . (okay just a segment where they pretended in front of the parents

Fuckboy Jungkook Who Quotes Gatsby Part 5 Part 6 @btsinspirationtakesme - drabble series [6/6] | Fuckboy AU, Nerd!Reader, Enemies to Lovers, using literary quotes to win OC (Shakespeare, FS Fitzgerald, Neruda, etc) (so this is actually surprisingly cute?!?! I don’t even remember how I discovered this fic. Anyway there is one chapter where they fake date)

Taehyung

Kismesis @jjkthclub - KTH | it’s pretend to be a couple during a wedding expo (for free food! like I would do the same lol)

The Holi-date @kpopfanfictrash - KTH | This neighbor!Taehyung is just...memorable you know? It’s a great romcom piece 🥰

Love at First Oink @glodenclosetau - KTH | the only SMAU I’m putting here because this is a MUST READ. It has written parts and this is just the fluffiest cutest SMAU (also the first I’ve read in full because I have the tendency to read and miss on smau episodes before)

Can’t Fake a Feeling @bubmyg - KTH, F2L, Fake Dating, College AU, Fuckboy

Schemes and Tricks to Win Her Heart @crystaljins - KTH feat KSJ | series [5/5] | Fake Dating Chaebol/Rich Seokjin, Taehyung is Jin’s Little Brother, and OC is Tae’s bestfriend (⭐)

X and O @army-author KTH | fake dating, single parent, teacher AU

False Pretense @v-hope - KTH | one shot | Fake Dating AU | F, slight A

La La Land by hoseokiehope (used to be on tumblr) - KTH | one shot | throwing this in because this is also a classic

Crush Culture @chaangbin - KTH | fluff, angst, fake dating au, childhood friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, smut

The Platinum Rule @taecalicook - KTH | two shot | you can read the JJK since this is a spin-off (but nor required), fuckboy!taehyung, fratboy

Yoongi

Playing with Fire @houseofdemi-blog - MYG | series [8/8] | Fake Dating AU, Rich Girl AU, Producer Yoongi, Bad Boy AU (this is a classic. a really great fic)

First and Last Love @floralseokjin - MYG | Christmas AU, Exes who needed to pretend they’re still together because they haven’t told the family yet about the break up (this is 👌)

When The Stars Align @itskimtaehyung - MYG | one shot | College AU, Roommates, cuffing season

The Heart Holiday @vanaera - MYG | series [3/5] | 92.3k | Office AU, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating AU

Switching My Positions @cupofteaguk - MYG | solo artist!yoongi, manager!y/n, fake dating au, friends to lovers au

Maybe So @joonary - MYG | two shot? [1/?] | fake date someone you already have feelings for (you have to read this - just so fluffy)

Everglow @dreamyjoons - MYG | series [4/4] vague fake dating au, friends to lovers

Veil feat PJM @ddaenghoney - series [20/20] | slow burn, unrequited love, love triangle, fwb (pjm), producer!yoongi

Ink Nemesis @scriptaed - series [7/7] | fake dating, paparazzi!oc, idol

Seokjin

Better With You @ve1vetyoongi - KSH | series [2/3] | help him inherit his trust-fund-baby-fortune

Courtship Chronicles @/gukyi - KSJ | one shot | friends to lovers, fake dating to show how fun dating could be

Raspberry Truffles @gukyi - KSJ | one shot | F2L, fake dating

The Money Project @namjoonchronicles - KSJ | series [2/?] | fake marriage actually, they don’t like each other but Seokjin’s parents like her and he needs her to get on parents’ good graces

Too Good To Be True @hueseok - KSJ | series [7/?] | college au, idiots to lovers, 10 things I Hate About You

Taming of Bridezilla @cinnaminsvga - KSJ | one shot | fake date to least favorite cousin’s wedding

Jimin

Fake It Till It Works @glassbangtan - PJM | one shot | panicked and told Hoseok he has a GF and he’s looking for one who could pretend, Best Friend AU

Remedy for Mondays @dovechim - PJM | series [4/4] | Co-worker AU, Fake Pregnancy AU (lol), Fake Dating AU, fake baby daddy 😅 🥕

Happily Glazed @/bubmyg - PJM | one shot | fake date to cousin’s wedding, slice of life

Call Me Baby @hueseok - PJM | one shot | friends to lovers, roommate au, college au

Namjoon

My Blood, Your Tears @nottojay - KNJ | series [5/?] | fake dated Namjoon who is the rival of her brother’s gang, Mafia AU (it’s incomplete though but good for bookmarking)

Until You Make It @versigny - KNJ | one shot | Christmas setting, co-workers

My Only Wish @ppersonna - KNJ | one shot | Christmas AU, E2L, idiots to lovers

Hoseok

Fakeation @theunknowncryptid - JHS | SMAU | Inspired by the movie Just Go With It

Fake Love @aquaminwrites - JHS | Fake dating AU, enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, minor angst (you have to read all of the writer’s fics. her fics are just amazing. promoting her Taehyung fic Paper Cranes which is a favorite of mine too)

*there is one Hoseok fic I really like but it was last updated in 2019 😥 so I didn’t include anymore but that’s such a great fic

There are new fake dating fics I’ve seen recently but I haven’t read them yet. Once I get to read them, I’ll update this with ones I’d like to recommend

🌷 posted: 2021 May 07 | updated: 2021 June 12 (indicated with a 💜)

🌷 other lists

🌷 I love to read so feel free to recommend a fic =)

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fake dating au #ggukkiereadingcollection #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #bts fic recs #jungkook fic recs #taehyung fic recs #yoongi fic recs #seokjin fic recs

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babybluebex · 4 years ago

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retribution pt.1 [charles blackwood smut]

➽ pairing: dark!stepfather!charles blackwood x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.9k ➽ summary: after charles marries your mother to gain a massive fortune, he realizes that he married the wrong woman, and he sets his sights on the real heiress: you. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. explicit language, smut, thigh-riding, oral (f!receiving), power dynamics, step!cest, masturbation, yandere/obession (i think??), daddy kink, breeding kink, slapping, mentions of murder/suicide ➽ a/n: i know that is different than what i usually post, but charles blackwood just... hmmm he grinds my gears in the best way. so, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio (and the sequel will be soon!)

From the very moment you laid eyes on Charles Blackwood, you loathed him. There was something about him physically that turned you off of him. Maybe it was the way his hair was just too perfectly done, the caramel highlights too pretty to be natural. Maybe it was the way his cologne filled your head, dark and lovely, but too masculine, like he was making up for something. Or maybe it was the smile that graced his pink and pouty lips when your mother introduced him to you as her husband.

It had hardly been a year since your father had passed, and you had no idea just how your mother could move on as quickly as she did. It had torn you up in a way that nothing else quite had. You had always been closer to your father than your mother and, when he got sick, you were left to bear the weight of what was happening. You went to visit him at the hospital alone and sat with him and read to him, and you held his hand as the nurses carefully turned off his machines. You guess that it was worth it, though; you found out that your father had altered his will and now, instead of his money being left to your mother, it was left to you. The only condition was that you had to get married to receive the money, going back to a conversation many years ago where your father tried to convince you not to go to university, telling you that the life of a wife and a mother would suit you better. You said that you would think about it.

“You’re not my dad,” you told Charles Blackwood. You expected him to be cross or maybe even hurt by your insistence upon that, but he smirked, as if he had expected that sort of answer. “I’m not gonna call you that.”

“Aw, that’s alright, honey,” Charles said, and he pressed his hand to your mother’s shoulder to stop her from scolding you. “I didn’t think you would. That’s awful, what happened to him. I’m really sorry about that.”

So casual, the way he talked about your father’s death. As if it was nothing more to you than a bad exam grade. You cried that night, locked up in your room, wanting Charles gone already. He was in the kitchen when you went in in the morning, sitting at the table, reading the newspaper, and whistling. He had the glow of a recently-spent man about him, and you internally sneered at the thought of him fucking your mother. “Hey, you,” he said, putting the paper down. “Let’s have a talk, huh?”

You glared at him, but sat down at the table all the same. You dug your thumbs into your orange and raised your eyebrows expectantly at him, and Charles pursed his lips. “I want you to know something,” he said. “I love your mom, right? And I have no interest in being your new dad or whatever. But I expect you to treat me with a little bit of respect, not any of… This.” He waved his finger at you, obviously talking about your current abhorrent pose. “I may not be your dad, but I’m still paying the bills and paying for you to go to university. So you’re gonna treat me like you fucking worship the ground I walk on. Got it, honey?”

“And what do I get outta this?” you grumbled.

“You get to keep living here,” Charles said. “You still get all that money that your father left your mother when he died. I don’t see what else you need.”

You scoffed. “Right,” you whispered. “‘Cause you only care about money. Well, Chuck, that’s fucking hysterical, that you think I’m even remotely like you. I can see past dollar signs and see what people are actually about. Anyway, I could care less about your money. I’ve got my own.”

“Doing what?” Charles asked with a dismissive laugh. “Waitressing?”

“You wish,” you sneered. “Mother didn’t get any money from Father.”

“All that money?” Charles asked slowly. “Where the hell did it go?”

“Into my trust fund,” you said highly, and you watched Charles’s blue eyes widen. “I have every cent of my father’s. All I have to do is get married, and me and my husband can fuck off, away from you.”

Charles stuttered for a moment, then said, “Let me get this straight. Your father left every red dime to his kid and not his wife? And you can only access it if you get married?”

“I told him that I wasn’t getting married,” you explained. “This is his twisted way of guaranteeing that I tie the knot at some point; soon, I guess. But congratulations, Chuck. Welcome to the family.”

As you stood up from your place, Charles’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and you yelped. His grip was strong, veins in his hand exposing themselves, and his jaw was set with a rising anger. You could see the red flush in his chest and neck, and, as pleased as you wished you were, you were frightened by him. Your father had never grabbed you like that before. Nobody had. “What did I say about a little goddamn respect?” Charles asked through gnashed teeth, and he twisted his hand, pulling your skin and making you cry out in pain. “You don’t call me Chuck. You call me Charles, or Father, or fucking nothing.”

“Let go of me, you fucking bastard,” you hissed.

Charles’s face was red now, and he lashed out and struck you across the cheek. Before you even had time to cry out, he had you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. “Go to your room,” he told you. “Next time I see you, if this fucking attitude isn’t fixed, you’re gonna be really sorry. You hearing me, honey?”

You nodded, using every ounce of your self control to not burst into tears on the spot. You cursed him in your head, wishing for him to leave you and your mother alone. You wanted him gone, maybe even dead. Certainly nowhere near you or your mother anymore. Charles stared at you, watching you, making sure of your compliance, then he let go of your face and tugged you close to his body by your wrist. Confusion overtook you as he hugged you, but then it made sense when you heard the floorboard in the hallway creak. “I know you miss him,” Charles said, quiet but certainly loud enough for your mother to hear from the hallway. “And I can’t be him, but I’ll try my best. Alright, honey?”

He sent a quick pinch to your tender wrist, and you finally let out your caged sobs. “Hey, hey,” Charles said, shushing you in what could be mistaken for comfort. “No need for crying, little one. I’m here for you.”

When you finally tore yourself from Charles, he looked happy. The anger was gone from his face, and he smiled at you. “‘Morning, lovely,” he said to your mother, and he stepped around you to embrace your mother and kiss her cheek.

“What’s going on?” your mother asked, looking at you worriedly.

“Having a little heart-to-heart,” Charles said softly. “Said she missed her father, and I told her that I’ll try my hardest to be there for her.”

“Aw,” your mother cooed and placed a kiss on Charles’s lying lips. “You’re too good to us.”

That conversation seemed to change something between you and Charles. He was still an asshole when your mother wasn’t looking, but you knew not to tell her. She wouldn’t believe it, and it would inevitably just mean more trouble for you. However, there was suddenly something more with Charles. He seemed charming, as always, but you sensed something sinister underneath it. You knew that he was only after your father’s money, and he was now stuck with your mother when it was you who had all the money. You knew that he was mad at marrying the wrong woman, but he couldn’t do anything about it now, and the thought that your presence vexed him as much as he did you pleased you.

Except, as you found out one night, Charles still could do something.

It was still dark outside your window when you heard your bedroom door creak open. You liked to sleep with it closed, and you brushed it off as the house shifting as it settled. Your clock said that it was five in the morning, and you nearly got up to close your door back, but you smelled him first. Fresh from his morning shower, cologne still potent, Charles lingered in the doorway to your room before stepping in. You squinted your eyes to try to see what Charles was doing, but still trying to act asleep, and you watched him cross to your dresser, across from your bed. He carefully opened drawer after drawer, obviously hunting for something specific, and your heart dropped when he crouched to the bottom drawer and his hands came up to brush back his hair.

Your heart burned with hate and disgust as you watched your mother’s husband, your stepfather, pull out a pair of your panties. You had done laundry just two days earlier and hadn’t worn them yet, and you watched as Charles pressed the bundle of cotton to his face. After a moment, he stood up, your panties in his fist, and you quickly closed your eyes to feign sleep as Charles approached the bed. You felt his presence right by your face, felt his eyes watching you as you slept, and he whispered, “Fuck, little one...”. Then, you heard the zipper on his pants. Through your eyelashes, you watched Charles press his half-hard cock into his fist and begin to stroke himself, rubbing himself with your panties. He slotted his bottom lip between his teeth as he masturbated, watching you as you “slept”. “So fuckin’ pretty… Gonna be mine.”

You tasted acidic hate in your mouth, but you couldn’t make yourself confront him. To your knowledge, nobody had ever masturbated to the thought of you before. There was a tiny part of you that liked that Charles was so hung up on you, even if the dominating part of your brain told you how sick it was. Anyway, you hardly wanted to interrupt him and stop an orgasm and give him yet another reason to hate you.

Charles’s cheeks went red in the dim light of the room as his fist moved faster. Your panties were bunched around his cock, flushed and nestled there like it belonged, and you closed your eyes fully. You didn’t want to see him come. You didn’t want to know what he looked like. You moved slightly, adjusting your legs under the blankets, and Charles let out a quiet little grunt. “One day…” he mumbled to himself. “Gonna be mine… All that’s gonna be mine.”

His breath caught in his throat, and you heard the wet squelch as his cum coated your panties. Charles stood for a moment, watching you, feeling his cock soften in his hand, and he finally sniffed and stuffed the used panties into his pocket. He tilted his head as he continued to examine you and the way you gave little noises as you slept, and he smiled. Oh yes, he thought as he brushed a bit of hair from your cheek. You would make a good wife.

Later that day, you were absently wandering around the house. It was too hot to do anything outside comfortably, but you definitely didn’t want to be around Charles or your mother for the moment. Even though you hadn’t seen anything that Charles had done, his grunts and hisses were enough for you to know that he enjoyed his time in your room that morning. You had yet to find your panties, and your stomach roiled when you wondered if he still had them in his pocket.

Your stepfather called your name from across the house, and your heart dropped. As you made your way to his office, you decided to play with him in the worst way possible. If he was going to haunt you and make you miserable, you were going to do just the same. Charles was leaned back in his desk chair when you got there, smoking from his pipe. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his gelled hair coming a bit undone. He looked stressed, and perhaps a little anxious. “Yes?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe.

“What are you doing tonight?” Charles asked, blowing out a mouthful of thick smoke.

You shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose,” you said. “Why?”

“I wanted to take you to dinner,” Charles said. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I would like to make it up to you, if I can. I… I truly apologize for hitting you. I have a short temper, see, and I’m trying to be better about it.” His lips were pursed, his eyes trained on you.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that his apology was genuine. But he needed you on his good side in order to get your fortune. He was buttering you up. You sighed. “That’s alright,” you said. “Umm… I’d like that, I think. Would Mother be coming as well?”

“No, little one,” Charles said, and you remembered how he had called you that as he pleasured himself into your panties. “Just us. A father-daughter dinner.”

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Would you be angry if I called you Father? I just think…” You trailed off and pretended to be ashamed as you played with the sleeve of your dress. “Maybe it would help me adjust.”

“Not at all, honey,” Charles replied. “Anything to make you comfortable.”

You gave him the smallest smile, and you approached his seat. “I should have greeted you with a bit more open-mindedness,” you mused. “I was being childish. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, because I… I just want you to like me, Father.”

“Aw, honey, I do like you,” Charles said, tilting his head. “You’re already forgiven.”

Your smile grew, and you leaned over to give Charles a tight hug. You could smell his strong cologne as you embraced him, and you made sure to give a soft little moan in his ear. “Oh, Father!” you started. “I can’t seem to find some of my clothes. Would you happen to know where they might have gone? Mother’s always on about donating unused things.”

“I have no idea, little one,” Charles said, and you straightened up. “What exactly are you missing?”

“Just a few sweaters,” you said, tracing the etching on the desk. “A skirt or two… A pair of panties with daises on them.” You gave a little laugh, and added, “They were my lucky pair and I just… Never mind, that’s embarrassing.”

“No, I mean,” Charles began, and he shifted in his chair. Your words had done exactly what you had hoped; he was suspicious and uncomfortable. “If it means a lot to you. How exactly are they lucky, might I ask?”

You laughed quietly. “Oh, Father, I couldn’t possibly tell you,” you giggled. “It’s not the sort of things girls talk about with their parents.”

“C’mon,” Charles smiled, reaching forward and playfully tickling your side. “If you don’t tell me, then I’ll assume the worst.”

In truth, the panties meant nothing to you. You couldn’t even remember when or where you had gotten them. But if it made Charles uncomfortable, then you would stretch the truth however far you needed to. You bit your bottom lip and giggled, and you said, “Fine, fine. I wore them the night I almost lost my virginity, and I… I just feel good wearing them.”

Charles straightened in his chair, setting his pipe aside. “You’re not a virgin?” he asked.

“I said ‘almost’, Father,” you whispered. “I still am.”

“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Charles told you. His hands went to your waist and tugged you closer to him, and he carefully parted your legs with his knee. “Are you waiting for marriage?”

You shrugged. “Or whatever,” you said. “I wanted to do it, but I just… He wasn’t my type.”

“And what is your type, honey?” Charles asked.

Your stomach was curling with disgust, but you kept up the ruse. “I don’t know,” you whispered. With a sigh, you settled yourself on Charles’s thigh, playing with the collar of his shirt. “Just, someone who knows what they’re doing, I guess. Who can make me feel good without making mistakes. Older, I suppose.”

“What else?” Charles asked. His thumb brushed against your hip bone, and you shivered when you felt your walls flutter. You couldn’t possibly be turned on by playing this sick game with your stepfather, could you?

“I like dark hair,” you said softly. “Tall. Nice eyes.”

“So…” Charles began and gave you a satisfied grin, one like a wolf who had cornered his prey. “Me.”

“Oh, God,” you whispered. “I-I guess, when you put it that way--”

“It’s alright, little one,” Charles said softly, and he leaned forward and kissed each of your cheeks. “It’s alright if you’ve got a little crush on me. Tell me, honey: have you ever been touched before?”

“Yes,” you replied with a fake meekness. He seemed to like the more innocent side of you.

“Yes…?”

You swallowed down disgust, disguising it as nerves. “Yes, Father.”

“Good girl,” Charles whispered. “How have you been touched?”

“A boy put his fingers in me,” you told Charles, avoiding his eyes. “And his mouth on me.”

“Where on you?” Charles pressed on. His hand slipped down to your bare legs and let his fingers linger on the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“Father,” you mumbled. “I can’t say it.”

“Show me,” Charles demanded, his face suddenly stony. “Put your hand where that kid had his fucking mouth.”

You let your hand rest on top of Charles’s, and you lifted it to your breast first. “Here--”

“Over your dress?” Charles laughed.

“N-No,” you laughed softly. You bit your lip as you guided his hand down the neck of your dress, and you shuddered at his warm palm on your soft nipple. Your cunt fluttered again, and you fully blushed when you realized that Charles had certainly felt it against his tense thigh. “Here,” you whispered, and you found yourself letting out a quiet moan as Charles groped at your breast. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying this. No, this was supposed to be torture for him.

“You like when I touch your tit like this, honey?” Charles asked, and you nodded quickly. “So good for your father, little one. Where else?”

You took his wrist and pulled his hand up to your mouth, and you placed a gentle kiss to his fingertips. “He kissed me,” you said.

“Did you like it?” Charles asked. He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip, and you took it into your mouth as Charles watched greedily.

You shook your head, and Charles pulled his thumb from your mouth. “What did he do wrong?” he asked softly.

“Nothing,” you whispered. “I just didn’t like him, I suppose.”

“Do you usually fuck guys you don’t like?” Charles asked.

“I didn’t fuck him, Father!” you said quickly. “I-I stopped it. Remember?”

“Oh, right,” Charles said in a hushed tone. “Saving yourself for the right person, who just so happens to have every quality that I possess. Is that right?”

“Father,” you groaned, leaning forward to press your forehead against his shoulder. For some reason, you didn’t entirely mind the smell of his cologne anymore. You didn’t mind his perfect hair. You didn’t even mind the wolfish smile that overtook his pink pout.

“Where else was that boy’s mouth?” Charles whispered. “Did he put it anywhere else? Or just on your pretty little mouth and tit?”

As you grabbed his hand, you realized that there was absolutely no going back. Your plan was set in motion and there was no way to stop it. You took a deep breath to prepare yourself, and you slowly took his hand down your body. You carefully lifted your dress and settled his hand over your cunt, and you shuddered at the warmth of his palm. His fingers were against your hole, the heel of his hand pressed to your clit, and you watched him lick his lips. “You naughty little thing,” Charles chuckled. “You let him put his mouth on your pussy?”

“I didn’t like it,” you told him quickly. “I didn’t like him.”

“Honey, I’m gonna ask you this once,” Charles whispered, pressing his hand fully against you. Even through the thin layer of your panties, you could feel every inch of his hand, and you bit your lip and tried to control your hips from bucking into his palm. Amongst other things, you were sure that you would get in trouble for it. “Do you want me to fuck you? I can show you how good you’re supposed to feel, little one, you’ll love me for it.”

You nodded quickly, but yelped when his free hand landed a smack on your ass. It truly hurt, and you whimpered when his hand stayed on your ass and squeezed. “Use your words, honey,” Charles said. “As much as I like the little dumb whore act, I wanna hear you beg for it.”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “Yes, Charles, please. Please, Daddy, please fuck me.”

“Ooh, Daddy,” Charles purred. “I like the sound of that, baby. Stand up and take off your panties, sweetheart.”

You did as he told you, shivering when the cool air hit your wet cunt, and Charles tugged you back down onto his thick thigh. The roughness of his pants made you whimper louder, and he sent a slap to your cheek. It wasn’t hard and didn’t even hurt, but you gasped all the same. “Keep your fucking cock-hole shut,” Charles hissed. “You want your mother to hear you fucking yourself on my leg?”

“N-No, Daddy,” you whined.

“Good girl,” Charles whispered. “Show me how badly you want me.”

“Huh?”

Charles took fistfuls of your dress and tugged it downwards, letting your tits escape. “I said, show me how badly you want me to fuck your little hole, babygirl,” he growled. “Fuck yourself on my thigh, and maybe, if you’re good for me, I’ll bend you over this desk right now and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk. You want that, baby? Want your daddy’s cock wrecking your pretty little pussy?”

You rested your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, and you rocked your hips down onto his hard thigh. The material of his pants brushed your cunt and clit and made you bite back a whimper, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You hated the way that you were enjoying it. You hated him. Maybe you even hated yourself. But self-loathing could wait until you got off, because the pleasure of everything was too overpowering to focus on much else.

Charles’s hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere that he could manage. He squeezed your tits and pinched your nipples, and bolts of pleasure rocked through your whole body. That, added with the feeling on your clit, was almost too much, and you whined out. “Daddy--!”

Suddenly, his hand was over your mouth, the other clamping down around your throat. “Shut up!” he huffed. His eyes were alert, locked on yours, and his face was red. Was he really angry? The thought that he was truly angry made your stomach flip, and not in a good way. “I told you to shut the fuck up, why can’t you listen?”

You pleaded with your eyes, asking him to forgive you. It was important for your plan that he didn’t have any ill will towards you. You needed him to want to marry you, and to actually do it. Then, you would get the money, and you could find a way to stage a suicide before the money was put into his bank account. Then, you would have your father’s money, and live with just yourself and the fortune he gave you. But, in order to do that, you had to do everything Charles Blackwood asked of you. You had to treat this horrible man like the sun shined out of his lying ass. You had to make him want to marry you. Which, at the current moment, didn’t seem like it would be too difficult.

You mumbled behind his hand, trying to warn him that you were going to come, but he only hit you across the cheek again. “Not another sound, you fucking whore,” he said. “Fucking yourself on your father’s leg. So slutty. You gonna come? You wanna come on Daddy’s leg?”

You nodded quickly, and you started your hips faster. Your legs were quivering and you could hardly hold yourself upright anymore, and Charles took note of the tears brimming at your eyelashes. “Is this the first orgasm you’ve ever had, honey?” he asked. He seemed softer suddenly, and his hand left your mouth; the other stayed secure around your throat, though. You nodded quickly, and he gave a little coo. “Aw, my poor baby. I guess I oughta take some pity on you, huh? You’ve been good to me after all… Take off your dress and sit on the desk.”

Your dress hit the floor, and you settled yourself on the edge of Charles’s desk. It was a hefty thing made of mahogany, and you clenched your thighs together as Charles’s eyes raked over your entire body. “I know you’re not trying to be modest now,” he laughed. “Open your legs and show Daddy that pretty pussy.”

You bit your lip and did as he said, and you gasped when his eyes finally landed on your cunt. You were dripping wet, your slick glistening off your thighs, and Charles let one thick finger glide up your slit and collect your wetness on his fingertip. “Jesus Christ, baby,” he laughed. “You were really close, weren’t you? Let me guess, you want me to shove my cock in you, huh? Want me to fuckin’ split you in two and stuff you full of my cum? God, you would look so pretty, gettin’ all big with my baby.” He paused to suck your wetness off of his finger, and he gave a quiet little sigh. “Oh, God. Of course you taste good… So sweet, like sugar. It’s almost like you want me to eat you out, sugar.”

“Please,” you sniffled. You reached for him and pulled him in by his tie, and he slotted easily between your thighs. “Please, please, please, Daddy, want your mouth on my pussy, please, make me come, Daddy…”

Charles placed a soft kiss on your forehead as a way to placate your begging, and he whispered, “You’re asking so nicely, sugar. How could I say no to your pretty little face?”

You didn’t know what exactly to expect as Charles kneeled down in front of you, and you carefully pushed your fingers through his hair, through those perfect blond highlights. The moment his tongue touched your clit, though, you forgot entirely about how you were supposed to be hating him. You forgot practically everything that wasn’t Charles. He lapped up your wetness and placed a wet kiss to your lips, and your stomach clenched as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “Aw,” he whispered, his warm breath making your cunt flutter again. “You look so pretty, sugar, all fucked out like this. Can’t wait ‘til I can actually fuck you…”

And, with that, he dived in. He was kissing, licking, and sucking your cunt like it was his only goal in life, your thighs in his bruising grip. You had the instinct to clamp your legs shut, and you nearly did, but Charles pulled his mouth away just enough so that his lips teasingly brushed your clit, and he whispered, “Now, that’s not what good girls do, is it?”

“M’sorry, Daddy,” you whispered. “Just feels so good.”

“I know, sugar, I know,” Charles whispered. “You’re being so obedient for me, though. Do you think you deserve a reward?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, I’ve been so good for you. Done what you’ve asked, please let me come.”

Charles sighed, looking up at you once more. “I love listening to you beg,” he whispered. “But you’ve been doing good for me. Go ahead, sugar. Come on my face, baby.”

The way his lips shined with your cum nearly made you pass out. If it were anyone else, you would have adored the sight of it, but, since it was your awful fucking monster of a stepfather, you loathed it. Still, you pulled him close and kissed him all the same, cringing at the taste of yourself on his mouth.

“What do we say?” Charles asked. His hands smoothed down your body, landing on your waist, and he tugged you flush against his body.

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered.

Charles smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “You’re welcome, sugar.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader smut #charles blackwood #charles blackwood fanfiction #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood smut #charles blackwood x reader smut #hehe whoops my hand slipped #and i wrote nearly 5k of awful smut

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cometcrystal · 4 years ago

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rating (almost) every fred jones look

classic fred (several movies and series) - you truly cannot go wrong with this look. there’s a REASON they keep going back to the OG outfits and it’s because they rock. the ascot was a cultural reset and it still is. 10/10

what’s new scooby doo fred - a really nice, modern spin on the classic outfit. love me a stripey shirt. this is a fred who would bring me ice cream at 3:00am because i was crying because my girlfriend dumped me and he’s my good friend and lesbian ally. 9/10

a pup named scooby doo freddie - im just gonna say it i DON’T like this fred and it’s all because of his haircut. like my mutual marce said, he looks like a trust fund baby and he should have kazoo kid hair instead. 1/10

more under the cut

mystery incorporated fred - some people aren’t a fan of this series’ art style, but i don’t really mind it. he’s chinnegan junior and this series leans into that. some of the sdmi designs change a lil bit but this is just OG fred but pointy. he gets bonus points because this is one of my fav freds in terms of personality and that’s not really fair but this is my list of freds not yours. 7/10

scoob! fred - why the fuck his eyes so small 3.5/10

zombie island fred - THIS IS A TOP NOTCH FRED hes got his vest on his camera ready and god help anyone who dared to disrespect his queen. also this fred proves you don’t NEED the ascot to have a great fred, the ascot is just a bonus. 100/10

be cool scooby doo fred - okay we all KNOWWW the art style in this show is ugly as hell and i think fred looks the worst out of the gang besides scooby but he gets 3 sympathy points because the show itself is REALLY GOOD 3/10

live action fred 1.1 - VERY good casting for him and this fred also gets a bonus because freddie prinze jr. and michelle gellar were engaged and thats so cute. points are deducted from 10 for his weird OOC sexist comments 8/10

live action fred 1.2 - DO NOT LIKE THIS HAIR ON HIM i hate the bucket hat haircut and im glad it died. points are added from 0 for his improved behavior 5/10

live action fred 2 - HE’S NOT EVEN BLONDE 0/10

scooby apocalypse fred pre-issue 25 - a lot of panels and covers make him look like too much of a gun-slinging action hero (i found the best panel i could) but this is still a good fred. devoted to his kween and still the heart of the group, despite this series’ bleak plot. 8/10

scooby apocalypse fred post-issue 25 - UMMM SKIP THIS FRED IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS FOR THESE COMICS IG. i’ve still got a few issues left before i finish this series so i’m not sure how it ends or if fred is brought back at all but THIS IS NOT FRED THIS IS SOMEONE ELSE POSSESSING FRED’S BODY AFTER HE WAS IN-CANON KILLED OFF BY ZOMBIES. VERY EVIL THERE IS NO SCORE LOW ENOUGH/10

EDIT: APPARENTLY THIS IS STILL FRED BUT HES JUST WEIRD NOW BECAUSE THE REBEL MONSTERS ARE INSIDE HIM. HE’S STILL THERE THOUGH. IM SORRY FRED/10

shaggy and scooby doo get a clue fred - he’s in a total of like 2 episodes but this might be my favorite fred design/lewk ever. HE IS SO ROUND AND FRIENDLY. TOP MARKS IN ALL AREAS ∞/10

mystery map puppet fred - STOP GIVING HIM A BUZZUT -5,000/10

where’s my mummy fred - love me a fred in a vest. this is just zombie island but a different color but still fun 6.5/10

PJs fred (shaggy’s showdown, possibly others) - COMFEY but why does he still tuck in his shirt even when he’s going to sleep. he’s so dumb i love him. 10/10

winter fred (several appearances) - this is a GOOD boy look at his little hat and his warm cozy jacket. props to the 2nd one for including his ascot. one point deducted because the striped one doesn’t have a pompom. 9/10

intro animation fred (several movies) - this boy looks sunburned 4/10

frankencreepy opening fred - this is a character from monster seeking monster. 7.5/10

stage fright opening fred - i love the retro style!! AN INTELLIGENT BOY A HANDSOME BOY A BOY OF MANY TALENTS AND HE LOVES TO POSE FOR PHOTOS 10/10

first frights fred - when i agreed that i wanted young fred to have kazoo kid hair i didn’t mean like this never like this. what the fuck -5/10

xbox/ps2 fred - he’s going to kill me on april 23rd 2027 at 6:02pm 0̷̢̙̻̱̠͆͑͆̊̀̈͆̕̕1̸̛͉̳̙̞̭̺̯̺̹͕̤̀ͅ0̷̻̀̐͋̈́̌̀̇̈́̄̅̚͝/10

lego fred - LEGO BOUCE. LEGO BOUCE. 10000/10

#scooby doo #fred jones #scooby meta #ratings #long post #i said ALMOST every because there's probably one i missed SOMEWHERE #but if i did i didnt do it intentionally

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the-bat-collector · 4 years ago

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SUPERBAT Rec List!! AU NO POWERS ish PART 1

I love NO POWERS NO CAPES AUs but its been so hard to find them!! so decided to make this list to help y’all in your search :D

The length varies, but I prefer long fics so most of these are 10-20k up to 200k

Heart and Soul by Pandamomochan

E - 150,044

Clark Kent used to be a renowned composer who was said to be able to write masterpieces that were designed uniquely for each individual player. Famous musicians around the world would flock to him in hopes that he would write for them because his pieces were always said to bring out any player's crowning performance. That is, until one day Clark loses his wife in a tragic accident and decides never to write again.

Years later, Clark's son, Jon, gets admitted to the famous "Gotham School of Performing Arts". It is there that Clark meets Bruce Wayne, a strict, uptight, by the book piano instructor who is said to be able to craft the best musicians around the world.

this is one of my favorites. I'm not really into Hurt/Comfort but this is so beautiful!! highly recommended I'm biased cause I play the piano

Seeing Bruce Wayne by Evilpixie

E - 15,089

Clark Kent is the only male midwife working in Metropolis General. Bruce Wayne the residential pediatric surgeon.

I'm so into medicine/doctor AUs this is also one of my favorite fics!if you have to pick one from this list, pick this one!!!

On The Cusp by vesper_house

E - 47,378

Clark's life isn't going so well. He's in his thirties, he works at a coffee shop run by his old crush, his journalism career is going nowhere, and he's broke. It takes only one tall, dark and handsome stranger to change everything.

COFFE SHOP AU COFFESHOP AU!! We need more of these, the dynamic between Bruce and Clark is Great!!!!

A Game You Can't Win by NightFoliage

T - 78,328

Injustice is the hottest MMORPGs available to play! Set in a world where superpowers exist, players can become civilians, heroes, villains, and anybody in-between. Designed by Hiro “Toyman” Okamura, and Timothy Drake-Wayne, Injustice was created with the best Wayne Industries technology available and has the most human NPCs. The game is beyond it's time and is planned to be at the top of the charts for a while.

By accident, Clark finds himself pushed into the spotlight and new found fame. To him, Let’s Plays are a means to stay in touch with friends and to make money. He never got into LPing to become famous.

Bruce, who funded the game after Jason’s accident, is irritated (not jealous) that a video game player is such a big topic among the kids. After the nth time they mention him, Bruce decides to take matters into his own hands and see what all the fuss is about.

link to art

ONE OF MY FAVORITE SUPERBAT FICS OUT THERE!!!!!! this is great and fun and Clark is the best!

As We Grow by butterflyslinky

E - 23,451

Clark Kent is a farmer deep in debt to Lex Luthor.

Bruce Wayne is a billionaire with seven children and no luck in love.

But their families have a scheme to get them together and hopefully make life a little bit better.

Modern Medicine by BuckinghamAlice

G - 5,208

Pediatrician Dr. Clark Kent becomes beloved to his patients, the Wayne boys... as well as to their doting father Bruce.

ABSOLUTELY lovely and adorable, you get the feels!

Hellooooo, nurse! by weirdraccoon INCOMPLETE WIP

T - ?????

Clark enjoys his job at the Free Clinic. He loves helping people and tending injuries. Saving lives. But this man... Bruce Wayne is going to kill him if he doesn't get killed first.

Bruce is still Batman on this one but HERE ME OUT, Clark is a nurse! is incomplete but looking forward to the following chapters!!

Two Cities by EllenD

E - 96,152

Clark Kent, is simply Clark Kent, junior reporter for the Daily Planet who moved to Metropolis from Smallville with big dreams. Bruce Wayne is a billionaire playboy from Gotham, who also happens to be Batman. They meet, date, and fall in love, though not without hurdles because mild-mannered Clark is also socially awkward as heck. But when the most dangerous criminals in Gotham are gunning for Batman, Clark gets caught in the middle of it all. (He's basically Batman's Lois Lane) Meant to be set in the Dawn of Justice movie universe, but also draws inspiration from video games, comics, and those awesome Batman cartoons.

This is part of a series, but this is the main fic of it. Love this trope of Clark is just a civilian and Bruce is Batman. Warning this fic does contain disturbing topics so read the tags.

Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks

T - 18,815

Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing.

Then they meet.

Seasons of Love by littlechinesedoll

G - 4,603

Clark Kent took over that farm at the edge of the Town of Smallville. He likes Smallville's resident doctor, Bruce Wayne.

The best gifts for Bruce are ginger ale, salad, coffee, and any kind of flowers. He hates gems, and bars of copper, silver, and gold.

Petals and Ink by drunkraiinbow

T - 12,976

With a new kid joining the family, Bruce tries a new tattoo artist to continue the tradition of adding them to his sleeve, but he won't trust just any artist. Clark manages to win him over with his incredible talent and his farm-boy friendly demeanor, and he may even have begun to win Bruce's heart. However, Clark might have a few things to learn first.

FLOWER SHOP TATTOO PARLOUR AU! what else is there to say, this is extremely cute and a fast read! :D

Faceless Killer by Batsymomma11

E - 51,519

Detective Bruce Wayne from the GCPD and detective Clark Kent from the MPD have been asked to create a joint task force in an effort to catch the John Doe Killer that has been ravaging their sister-cities. Aside from their long-standing animosity towards one another, it should be a breeze to work together. Besides, lives depend on them getting along.

They never expected they'd trip headlong into a romantic entanglement that feels a lot more serious than even the killer they're chasing.

The Tailor by maderi

E - 16,026

When Clark is assigned to cover the Wayne gala, he finds himself in need of a professionally tailored suit. His tailor though is drop dead gorgeous, which brings up a lot of awkward situations during their appointments.

Heroes of the Squared Circle by Mithen

M - 226,687

They've gone by many names: Billionaire Brucie, Country Clark, the Kryptonian, the Dark Knight. But no matter what their stage names are, one thing has always been true: Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are the world's finest wrestlers.

Six's a crowd by Untoward INCOMPLETE/ABANDONED

G - 10,133

When Alfred has to make an emergency trip back to England, Bruce soon finds out he can't manage running a business and taking care of six kids all alone.

He turns to a nanny agency for help, and is astonished when he finds Clark Kent, who seems like he can handle anything.

Clark not only can take care of the kids incredibly well but seems to be breaking Bruce's walls down rather well too.

After Hours by ????

E - 3,175

At the end of a long semester Clark can't hide his attraction to Professor Wayne any longer. Grad School AU.

This is practically a one-shot, not really my type of fic but worth adding!! Haven't come across this professor trope in Superbat so if you got any recs, send them my way!

Wings and Fangs by DanielleN3

E - 17,224

Clark thought he could never fall in love with anyone, especially not after being alone for such a long time… but all of that changes when he encounters a sexy vampire in Gotham.

TECHNICALLY they both have powers in this one but there are soooo different from cannon that I think this fic still qualifies for this list

thirteen by CapnWinghead

T - 22,890

Drowning in student loans, Clark Kent takes a summer job as the Wayne family nanny.

OKAY. so this is not entirely NO POWERS, but I mean Clark is a NANNY so this is great! TRUST ME

Kiss me, take my breath away by J_Jubilee

E - 37,934

There were legends about Gotham Reef. Legends that said it was haunted by a beast of foul temper. Stories told of a ravenous sea beast that feasted on the flesh of men, and was said to be more hideous than Satan himself. Others told of a woman with eyes that glowed like gold to lead sailors to their death. Some even spoke of a witch that cursed men and wreck their ships, taking all their treasures with it. When Clark’s catamaran is wrecked by a terrible storm, he learns that the stories were oh so far from true.

Baby Bats by AlmondRose

G - 4,003

this is a short series of adorable and simple domestic fluff

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Haven't read this one but heeey the art is sooo pretty soo decided to add it anyways

Dragon Heart by Hells Angel 921

T - 27,660

Kal wants to make up for his past.

Bruce tries to move on with his future.

They eventually meet in the middle.

link to art

I didn't know that Dragon/DragonSlayer was a thing but hey... apparently it is, so here it is.

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hehe and so my rant ends here! let me know if you know fics that fit any of these tropes! I’m all ears

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vintage-writes · 4 years ago

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Six Shots Later Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Word Count: 1 728

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki

Summary: The League of Villains decide to go bar hopping one night and Shigaraki boasts about his impressive tolerance. Impressive indeed, six shots later and he is literally barely able to function. It is now Y/N’s job to see him home safely.

Warnings: None, It’s all fluff. He’s literally an angel.

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The dingy hallway stretched forward in a rather bleak manner. The air feels musty. The lighting is terrible. Most bulbs have burnt out already while others flicker insistently. The paint is peeling off the walls and the distinct smell of urine wafted in the air. The apartment building is absolutely disgusting but funds were low and it is rather inconspicuous. The heroes most probably won’t have the stomachs to search the building or will assume the League of Villains would have more class. Whatever the case, this disgusting sack of bricks is the current residence of the most feared villains in Japan, and it’s ironically fitting. The upside to a building this disgusting is that there are barely any other tenants, and the few who remain in the building tend to mind their own business. Which is exactly what you need right now.

“Move Faster!” shouts Tomura Shigaraki, the head of the League of Villains.

“ ‘I don’t get drunk easily’, he says", You mutter under your breath. Yes, clearly Shiggy has the amazing tolerance he so desperately claims he has. Six shots later and he’s stumbling around the street yelling Christmas carols at random passers-by and claiming that they have no Christmas spirit. He then proceeded to wave using his father’s hand, which effectively created a lot of chaos. You are praying to God that no one who saw thought calling a hero was necessary.

Shiggy moves around trying to get more comfortable on your back. Of course, being the girlfriend, you now have to lug him back to his room while everyone else moves on to the next bar. You can now cross, giving a Villain a piggy-back ride, off your bucket list. Shiggy shifts again and yells out more words. You have no idea what he’s saying.

You finally see the door leading into your shared apartment, you adjust him on your back as he flops forward causing you to stumble into the door.

“Babe?” You ask.

No response. Maybe he knocked himself out.

After fishing around for the key you’re able to get into the apartment, lock the door and enter your room. You shift Shigaraki onto the bed and he flops onto his back. You can’t help but give a quiet chuckle at his starfish shape. Cotton Candy hair framing his peaceful face. The bags under his eyes are still prominent and yet he appears to be comfortable. The air in the room is peaceful, a rare moment for the villain haunted by his nightmares. His chest rises and falls steadily and his eyelids flutter slightly.

You leave quickly to fetch a wet towel and upon return you see that he is sitting up. He sways slightly on the bed. His clothes are ruffled and his hair sticks up slightly. His eyes are barely staying open as he rubs at them like a child. The soft expression on his face doesn’t quite surprise you, over the past few months he has slowly but surely opened up to you. His soft nature is often overlooked due to his criminal persona, but it’s always there. Tomura never yells at his comrades, always treats them nicely, and remembers small things about them. A memory pushes its way to the surface of your mind. Three weeks ago, Tomura ordered food for all of you while you were out on a job. It was only him at the warehouse and when you got back you were starving. You fully expected him to just order a few pizzas but what awaited you was a variety of your favourite dishes. Not a single person said it out loud, but you felt it. You all came to a silent agreement. This man is an Angel and you would remain loyal until the end.

If the world could see the Tomura that you see, they would understand. You see it, even now, how delicate he looks lying on the bed. You could blame it on the alcohol for stripping away most of his walls, but this person in front of you doesn’t want to harm anyone, he is vulnerable. You take a tentative step forward and lean down in front of him. Crimson eyes study you gently with vague recognition. You take your cloth and gently wipe across his eyes.

His nose.

His cheeks.

His Jaw.

You pause and breathe in slowly. Strong alcohol permeates the air around him. His clothes also look uncomfortable. Although the material looks soft, it is rather thick. Possibly too warm for the night air. In the past few weeks, you have crossed a lot of boundaries ,respectfully, in this room and on this bed. Surely, he wouldn’t mind losing a few layers of clothing for a short while.

You move to grab another shirt from the cupboard before settling in front of him again. You blush as it occurs to you that your are Kneeling directly in front of him.

No No No. He’s drunk, pull yourself together!!

You clear your throat.

“Just Breathe”, you remind yourself. You reach for the corner of his shirt and tug gently.

“Tomura? Hey Baby, I need you to let me take off your shirt.”, You say as you tug again.

He throws his back and lets out a weird whine. You freeze and immediately let go. Crimson eyes stare at you again, however this time, it is not gentle. His expression has completely darkened. You lean away from him and watch as he holds up both hands.

“I..”, he says, but doesn’t finish his sentence. His mouth gaping open and closed like a fish.

You hum gently and watch carefully as his words fail him. He looks like a small child about to throw a tantrum. His face twists as his mouth struggles to form words. Weird huffing noises escape him. For a second, you wonder if he might actually lose his cool and yell at you. Perhaps, you overstepped?

“I Have a GIRLFRIEND!!”, He shouts suddenly. The word Girlfriend is drawn out slowly as if he were talking to a child. You freeze before your lips move on their own. A smile has officially wormed its way onto your lips. You swallow hard.

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Even though he is so cute right now. His lips have morphed into a pout. His childlike expression throws you off guard. Your breath catches and his eyes scrunch. How can someone with so many crimes be so adorable? How is he so beautiful? Red eyes glow in front of you, completely incandescent. This villain may kill you by looks alone. You look away feeling flushed.

“Baby, I am your girlfriend.”, You offer gently, “It’s me, Y/N”

“Princess?”

“I’m here”

His eyes light up slightly, his expression calm once again. Until his eyes narrow at you. He’s studying you, you can feel his gaze searing into your skin as he analyses every nook and cranny of your body. His eyes seem half satisfied before he blurts out.

“You’re also very pretty. My princess is so beautiful. She’s stunning. She’s my light. I like the light.”, he babbles. His voice is surprisingly smooth. Your heart leaps forward. He’s going to be the end of you. You suddenly feel the need to hold him. To hear his heartbeat and to feel his breath against your ear while he whispers gently, the sweet sayings that can comfort you in any tragedy. His warmth, that glows strongly in someone that the world has cast away. You reach forward to grab him again but he jerks away again.

He whines again. His hands ball into fists as he raises them. His eyes are wide open. His mouth tilted into a frown.

“I don’t want you to die.”, he admits softly.

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

You reach forward again, this time your aim is directed to his jacket but he evades again. He appears more desperate now. His hands are even higher, as they wave around.

“Baby, please trust me.”, you say gently as if talking to a wild animal ready to bolt. He tilts his head and looks at you again. His face blanks. Void of any emotions, his face tilts in the other direction. He huffs out a breath before allowing the faintest smile to grace his chapped lips.

“Ok Y/N, I trust you.” he relents and lowers his arms slightly. The initial wariness has not left him though. You reach again for his jacket and extract his gloves. You gently raise your hand and curl your fingers around his left wrist. You whisper some words of encouragement and slip his glove on. You then reach again for his right wrist and slip that glove onto his other hand. He wiggles his fingers within the gloves.

You burst out laughing at his innocent action. His fingers wobbling about as his face shapes into the brightest smile. It overtakes the room and any uneasiness fades away. He too lets out a low chuckle and throws his head back. It’s surprisingly soft. He leans forward unsteadily and looks you dead in the eye. His right hand lifts ever so gently before running a gloved finger over your head and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He smiles again, this time, it feels softer, more intimate. His eyes have drilled their way into your soul. The glow of fireflies entrap you into his world.

“Now I can’t hurt you.”, his voice flutters against your ear. His breath is hot. Heat spreads across your face and your tiny voice of reasoning begins to soften ever so slightly. He pulls back slightly and your eyes immediately lock onto his lips. Chapped ever so slightly but full and soft nonetheless.

Shiggy’s head sways forward, forehead resting against your own. Powder blue hair curtains around us. His breath fans against your face, fluttering against your lips. Mouth only inches from my own. Your lips part. You’re ready. Heart Beating. Head pounding. Blood rushing.

“Goodnight Love”, he whispers, before turning away.

What?

He flops onto the bed. Head first and still shirtless.

Are you kidding right now? He proceeds to bury his nose into the cushions and before you know it, he’s fast asleep.

Did he just?

Sure whatever.

You climb onto your feet and hop onto the bed next to him. It’s fine, You’ll get him in the morning.

195 notes · View notes

cherryrogers · 5 years ago

Text

➸ call me baby {1/3}

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: Smoking, some violence, mild drinking, mainly fluff.

word count: 8.1k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: so this was originally meant to be one long piece, but i’m now splitting it into three parts. if you’d like to be tagged in the second part to this, please let me know !! please enjoy and thank you for reading my loves💓💓

A dark, cherry red shade was swiped carefully across her lips, accentuating the dark eyes staring back at her reflection in the circular mirror placed on top of the small desk she was sat at. Chocolate locks curled with precision, thin silver chains encircling her neck, resting on the cotton of her off-the-shoulder top.

You examined her reflection from your spot, laying on your stomach atop the white bedsheets of your friend’s bed. “You look like a doll, Pegs. Whoever this ‘Steve’ kid is, he’s real lucky.”

The brunette blushed momentarily, popping the lid of her lipstick back onto the tube and setting it aside as she took a final look in the mirror, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “He is lucky, isn’t he? You weren’t lying when you told me that red lipstick works wonders.”

“Of course I wasn’t; I’d never lie to you.”

Peggy scoffed at that, rising from her seat and placing her hands on her hips. “Oh, you wouldn’t? Was it not a lie when you said you’d be back in Brooklyn for the summer?”

“It’s summer now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, a year after you were meant to be back. You’re a little late, _____.”

A sigh left your lips as you rolled off your stomach, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed to stand up. “I wasn’t lying then either, Peggy. You know if I had the money I’d have gotten a flight straight over to see you.”

Traveling after the summer following high school graduation had always been the plan. College had never been what you wanted, despite all your teachers telling you it was the path that you should follow. Unlike your childhood friend Peggy Carter, you weren’t interested furthering your education after high school. You were too enthralled by how much of the world you had yet to discover, having not taken a single step out of Brooklyn as a kid.

Peggy had been your best friend since middle school. Her family had moved from London to New York when she was still young, and she wasn’t sure that she would’ve settled in as well as she did if you hadn’t have made her feel like she had a new home in Brooklyn. When you told her about traveling around after high school, she was understandably upset, not wanting to enter the world of adulthood without her best friend with her for every step of the way. But she still supported you wholeheartedly, helping you find jobs around the city to earn you enough money to keep you going for the first month or so on the road.

After you left Brooklyn, you were on your own. Making your own money, finding temporary jobs for the temporary times you spent in cities you were eager to explore. Cheap motels became your shelter most nights, anyone you met almost never got your name, your only attachments to any city being the photos you took with the camera your parents had bought you for your sixteenth birthday.

Apart from missing Peggy, leaving Brooklyn to travel was the best decision you’d ever made. You hadn’t left the US just yet; you had a separate savings jar that was getting put towards buying a plane ticket to London. You knew that was the first place you wanted to go when you could leave America, the place where your best friend grew up. You offered for Peggy to come with you, give you a proper tour of the city, but she was too focused on college for the time being, and taking a trip to a different continent didn’t seem like the best idea in the middle of the first semester after summer, which is when you were hoping to have the funds to get there.

Last summer, you were somewhere in California, on the complete other side of the country to Peggy. You were a little hard up, and you barely had enough money to buy dinner, never mind a plane ticket to New York. Next summer, you’d promised. Though, you were sure it was fate that kept you from Brooklyn that summer, because not spending the whole summer with you meant that she spent it with somebody else - Steve Rogers. It was hard to stay in contact with Peggy, considering your phone was cheap and you barely had any credit, but the girl hadn’t had a bad word to say about her new boyfriend since the moment you landed in New York. You’d heard it all; he’s a sweetheart, he’s gorgeous, he’s a real good guy. And your first outing of the summer into the city was to meet the guy in the flesh.

“I know, I just missed you. It’s hard when you’re falling in love and you can’t even talk to your best friend about it.”

You snorted at her words, earning yourself an unimpressed look from your friend as she left her bedroom, you following behind her. “Falling in love? Maybe I shouldn’t have ever left, seems like you’ve gone crazy without me here.”

Peggy led you out of the front door of her small, suburban home, the heat of the July air hitting you immediately, making you thankful for your choice of outfit for the day; a simple black tank top with black and white checkered shorts, paired with short-heeled shoes that clicked against the pavement as you walked and a pair of black sunglasses, which were pulled from the top of your head to rest on the bridge of your nose. She’d insisted that where you were meeting Steve was only a short walk away, and the thought alone of even a spending a short amount of time under the hot sun in jeans or a jacket made you uncomfortable.

“Falling in love isn’t crazy, _____. You’ll understand when you experience it for yourself, trust me.” The brunette linked her arm with yours, rolling her eyes at your negative attitude.

“I’m not ever gonna fall in love, Pegs. There’s too many places to go, too many new people to meet. No time for love or any of that nonsense.”

You didn’t see any appeal in trying to find someone special, because it simply just wouldn’t work. Even if you did find someone you clicked with, you’d only spend maybe a month or so by their side before you were off to another city, and nobody was going to stop you from traveling the world if you had anything to say about it, no matter how ‘in love’ you were with them.

But you’d never been in love, and you weren’t going to be for a long time, if ever. You were a free spirit; a person with a heart that only belonged to you, and you were certain that it’d stay that way.

“If you say so, darling.” Peggy nudged you with her elbow, prompting you to nudge her back harder, making the both of you fall into giggles like you were kids again.

The two of you walked for a little longer, the tales you were recounting of your time in Los Angeles and Sam Francisco keeping you both occupied until you arrived at wherever you were supposed to be going.

When Peggy pulled you to a stop in front of a large, shabby building, you were noticeably confused.

The place wasn’t run-down, per se, but the white paint was peeling off the walls, revealing the dark wood underneath. It wasn’t a house, but the spacious, open garage in front of you definitely made it look like people lived there. There was a fridge in the corner of the room, next to a small bar with a couple of beer bottles sitting on top of it. Couches lined the cream walls of the garage, better painted than the outside of the building, and there was a motorcycle in the center on the room, some of the parts clearly missing, as if someone was in the middle of fixing it up.

There were more motorcycles parked outside of the garage, lined up on the driveway messily. You turned to your friend, eyebrow raised questioningly. “Is there a reason why Steve has so many motorcycles?”

A chuckle left her red-coated lips. “They’re not all his; this is the clubhouse.”

The what now?

You’d heard enough warnings from your parents when you were younger to stay away from motorcycles and clubhouses.

“Oh, Pegs. I leave you for a year and suddenly you’re seeing a guy in a biker gang?”

“It’s not a biker gang, stop being so dramatic.” The brunette began to lead you into the garage; you assumed she was allowed in freely for being involved with one of the members. “They’re good people, I promise. Not like the bikers our parents told us to stay away from as kids.”

Before you could make a further argument and irritate your friend even more, Peggy had turned the handle to a door at the back of the garage, leading out into a small, grassy area. A tall, brown fence kept the garden closed off from the surrounding areas, and a number of shrubs lined the edge it, hiding any part of the ground that wasn’t covered in grass. It looked quite taken care of - cozy, even. There was a barbecue in the corner of the space, currently not in use, but the fairly large picnic table in the middle of the area was occupied.

You weren’t sure how you didn’t hear it from the garage; the laughing and chattering coming from around the table. Green bottles clutched in some hands, cigarettes in between the fingers of others, leather jackets enveloping the upper bodies of everyone sitting at the table. They looked exactly how you pictured the members of a motorcycle club to look.

At the sound of two pairs of footsteps approaching the table, everyone’s heads turned to you and Peggy, and you noticed as a certain blond instantly shuffled along in his seat, his smile widening at the sight of your friend.

“Peggy, I didn’t know you were comin’ today.”

“Why, you aren’t happy to see me?”

“Course I am, sweetheart.” A faint blush rose in the blond’s cheeks, and it was safe of you to assume that this was Steve. “Sit down, will you?”

The brunette slid into the empty space next to Steve, an excited smile on her face. She’d been waiting a while to introduce you to her boyfriend, you could tell. “James, move along so _____ can sit down.”

Your eyes flickered up at the mention of your name, and landed on the biker sitting opposite to the couple, a cigarette resting between his lips. He seemed to be in the middle of a conversation with the redhead sat next to him before Peggy called his name. His gaze moved to you, blue eyes raking up and down your impatient stance, a smirk forming on his lips. Christ, was he deaf?

“Jeez, you’re lookin’ at me like you’ve never seen a woman before.” You spoke up, your own confidence shocking even you a little. Well, Steve didn’t seem like some big, scary biker - you doubted any of the others could be worse than him.

The biker’s smirk only widened as you pushed your sunglasses to sit on your head, eyes darting between you and Peggy. “Where you been hidin’ this gem, Peggy?”

“Just move along, jerk.” Steve intervened, earning himself an eye roll from his friend before he made a space on the bench next to him. Well, you didn’t really want to sit next to the guy anymore, but you weren’t trying to get a telling off from your friend.

“I was just askin’, Stevie.” He shrugged as you took the seat next to him, the heavy scent of smoke in the air making you crave a cigarette yourself. “Think I would’ve remembered Peggy bringin’ her around here.”

“_____ hasn’t been in Brooklyn for two years, so no, I haven’t brought her around here before. Even if I had, with the amount of women you knock around with, I’m not sure you would remember her, James.”

Despite it being an insult towards him, James chortled along with Steve, who wrapped a strong arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Anyway, everyone, this is _____ - we’ve been friends since middle school, and she’s only here for the summer. _____, you’ve met Steve and unfortunately, James; this is Natasha, Sam, and Clint.”

Peggy pointed towards each leather-clad person sitting around the table, the three you hadn’t met giving you a casual ‘hello’. You returned the greeting, before the your eyes landed on the empty pack of cigarettes in the centre of the table. God, you were really craving one.

To hell with it, you thought, turning to the man next to you, eyes on the stick between his fingers. “You mind if I take a drag of that?”

James’ eyes locked with yours, and you hated that his eyes were as pretty as they were. “Sure can, baby.”

Baby. Nobody had ever called you that before. Even when you were flirted with in random bars, and you sometimes flirted back for your own enjoyment, you’d never been called by the term, not with the softness that James had. But he probably called every woman he met baby, there was no reason to get all soppy about it.

Nonchalantly, you took the cigarette from his hand, fingers brushing together ever so slightly before you pressed the stick to your own lips, inhaling the smoke and feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

“So,” You started, breathing out a cloud of smoke. “Pegs didn’t tell me she was involved in a biker gang.”

The whole ‘motorcycle club’ thing still seemed a little sketchy to you; you just wanted to make sure your best friend was safe when you weren’t around.

“_____-” The brunette went to scold you, but was cut off by the blond next to her.

“S’alright, Peggy.” He rubbed her arm reassuringly, before turning his eyes to you. There wasn’t any annoyance in his expression at your bluntness, which was a good start. “We’re not a gang, really. We ain’t dangerous or doin’ anything we shouldn’t be.”

“So what, you just ride around on your bikes together? Like a cycling club?”

You heard a laugh from across the table, coming from the man Peggy pointed out to be Sam. “Never thought about it like that before, but honestly, that’s spot on.”

“No, it’s not.” Steve sighed, an amused smile creeping onto your lips at his unimpressed expression. “I mean, there’s other clubs that are worse than us, and sometimes we have a run in with ‘em...”

“As long as you’re keepin’ my girl safe, I don’t care who you’re running into, Steve.” You took another drag from the cigarette as the blond raised a brow at you. James let out a chuckle.

“Just ignore her,” Peggy sent you a glare. “She’s overprotective; always has been.”

“Course she’s safe, you don’t need to worry, _____,” Steve assured you. “I’d die before I let anything happen to her, not that anything would happen.”

Both you and James grimaced, probably looking like two kids seeing a couple kiss for the first time. “Christ, Steve. You’re soft as muck these days, you know that?”

“Shut up, Bucky.”

“What the hell is a Bucky?”

“It’s his nickname,” Peggy explained. “James’ middle name is ‘Buchanan’.”

“Your middle name’s ‘Buchanan’?” Clint perked up fron the end of the table, disengaging from his conversation with Sam and Natasha. “How come I never knew that?”

Bucky knocked his pointer finger against his temple. “‘Cause you’ve got nothing up here, Clint. I’ve told you middle name a bunch of times.”

Clint’s brows furrowed in offence. “Hey, that’s rich comin’ from you—”

“Can someone start cooking up some burgers on the barbecue?” Natasha interrupted Clint’s attempt at arguing back, standing up from her seat. “At least if you boys are eating, it means you’re not bickering like idiots.”

“I guess it’s getting close to supper time; Peggy and I will get the grill goin’.” Steve stood up, helping the brunette out of her seat too.

“I’ll get the plates.” Clint offered, heading for the garage.

“I’ll get the drinks.” Sam soon followed.

“You gonna stay for supper, _____?” Peggy asked, to which you replied with a head shake.

You shot her an apologetic smile. “I need to find a job for the next couple of months, can’t leave the city after summer unless I’ve got some more cash in my pocket.”

“Alright, I’ll call you when I’m back at home.” The girl smiled, and with a small wave, she left to follow Steve into the garage, leaving you and a certain biker alone.

Bucky turned to you, a smile pulling at his lips.

“You should stay.” He said suddenly, and you were a little taken aback. You hadn’t felt like you’d exactly made a good impression in front of him.

“D’you want me to stay?” You quirked a brow.

He shrugged, reaching for the short stick between your fingers and pulling it easily from your loose grip, pressing it to his lips. “Seems like you get on Peggy’s nerves as much as I get on Steve’s; could be fun if you stayed.”

The corners of your mouth almost upturned at his words, almost.

“Plus, you’re good eye candy.”

You scoffed, desperate to wipe the smug look of the biker’s face.

Plastering on a smile, you reached forward and plucked the cigarette right back out of his hand and stubbed it on the ashtray next to the empty packet in the middle of the table. Bucky didn’t seem too impressed. Shame.

You rose from your seat, ignoring Bucky’s stare on you before you made your way back towards the garage, sliding your glasses back over your eyes.

“I’ll see you round, Bucky.”

You weren’t sure how to feel about Bucky Barnes; he was kind of an asshole, frankly. But you probably wouldn’t see much of him during the rest of the summer, so you didn’t think much of it.

Well, that’s what you thought, anyway.

* * *

“Am I seeing things, or is that your biker clan walking towards us right now?”

It was supposed to be a girls day out. Just you and Peggy, spending the day at the carnival while the sky was still clear and the sun was still beaming. You’d been going to the carnival in the summer for years with your best friend, even from being in middle school. If there was one thing you were looking forward to while being in Brooklyn, it was this.

The feeling sort of faded when you saw the familiar group of leather-wearing bikers, wondering how the hell they weren’t sweating buckets in the heat.

“Steve wanted to hang out today, and I told him that I couldn’t since we were going to the carnival. I guess they just wanted to come along too.” Peggy shrugged, a smile widening on her wine coloured lips as she jogged towards the group.

“You invited them, didn’t you?” You called after her, tone laced in annoyance.

“It’ll be fun, trust me.” Those were the last words you heard from the brunette before she approached her boyfriend, planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

While you were in the midst of grimacing at the couple, frustrated that Peggy just had to invite along her new blond boyfriend and her new group of friends that looked like they’d come straight out of the film Grease, you hadn’t noticed one of the members of the club straying from the group, coming your way.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.” A voice suddenly murmured in your ear, making you flinch, and your hand went over your chest in surprise.

“Jesus, don’t do that,” You scolded him with a glare.

“Not Jesus, but close.”

“Funny,” You shot him a mocking smile before turning back to look for your friend, who was already walking off Steve. Well, that was just great. Thanks a lot, Pegs. “And Peggy has ditched me for her boyfriend. Awesome. I might as well just go home.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You don’t need to go home, you have me.”

“You don’t need to pretend you wanna hang out with me, Bucky. Don’t you wanna have fun with your other friends?” You raised your brows.

“D’you wanna help me find ‘em?”

You were about to respond, when you noticed that his other friends had also taken the liberty of leaving the two of you to your own devices. The carnival was massive, too — trying to find them all would probably take hours.

A sigh left your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Alright, fine. I hope you like the big rides, Bucky, cause we’re going on all of them.”

“That’s fine by me, baby,” He nudged your arm with his elbow, a boyish grin spreading across his lips as you guided him towards the nearest large ride. “But for the record, I’m not pretending that I wanna hang out with you.”

Your eyes met his, a slight smile pulling at your lips at the biker being, well, nice.

“Why would I pass up the chance to take a hot girl on a date, huh?”

Never mind.

You shook your head, glaring harder at the guy than you were before. “I’m gonna throw you off the top of the drop tower, I swear to God.”

Bucky only winked at you, before pacing quicker towards the tall, towering attraction in your line of sight. “C’mon, the line’s filling up quick.”

The wait for the ride wasn’t long, though it certainly felt long as you witnessed Bucky flirting with the two girls in front of you. You weren’t even sure if he knew that his bright eyes glistening in the sun and his wide smile were making the girls blush furiously, but either way, he didn’t stop talking to them until he had to when you sat on opposite ends of the ride to them.

You didn’t even know why you were annoyed. You didn’t know Bucky, and you didn’t necessarily like him all that much. But it irked you, seeing him just charm is way into two strangers' hearts like that. You were sure you’d seen their boyfriends wander off to some other stall only minutes before they set their eyes on Bucky, but you guessed that wasn’t any of your business.

Though, as happy as you were that Peggy had ‘fell in love’ or whatever, even seeing her and Steve being slightly affectionate with each other made you nauseous. Romance just wasn’t your thing, basically.

He noticed the unimpressed look on your face as the worker strapped you into your seats. “What’s wrong, baby? Don’t wanna go on the big rides no more?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“You don’t like it?”

Well...

“No, I don’t.”

However, with your slight moment of hesitation, you’d somehow managed to boost Bucky’s ego even higher than it already was.

The boy smirked across at you. “You like it, don’t you? You like it when I call you baby.”

“Remember what I said about throwing you off the top of this ride?” You threatened, only earning yourself a laugh from the biker.

Before Bucky could continue his teasing, the ride jolted to a start, and you hoped that meant that Bucky would keep his mouth shut for the next five minutes. Apparently, it didn’t mean that at all.

“You know,” The biker yelled over the racket of the ride elevating from higher up the tower. “I think they did this on purpose.”

“Who did what on purpose?”

“Steve and Peggy; leaving us by ourselves.”

You scoffed at him smirking suggestively at you. “You’re delusional, Bucky. Delusional.”

But honestly, you wouldn’t have put it past your best friend. Perhaps she was determined to make you fall in love to prove that it would happen to you one day.

Well, it certainly wasn’t going to happen with Bucky, that was for sure.

The ride eventually reached the top of the tower with a click, and you didn’t miss the string of curse words that left Bucky’s lips as his eyes roamed the view of the carnival from where you were in the air.

“What’s wrong, Bucky? Don’t wanna go on on the big rides no more?” You mocked his words from before, but the biker only gulped, and you sort of felt... bad.

He bit his lip, shaking his head and looking up. “I’m fine, just not a big fan of heights, that’s all.”

“Well, you picked the worst ride if you don’t like heights.”

He shot you a glare, but another smirk soon found his lips at you eyed him in a confusedly. Within seconds, he had his hand interlinked with yours, and you practically choked on your own saliva.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m scared of heights; I need to hold your hand.”

“When we get off this ride, you’ll need an ambulance for when I kick you in the-”

And you couldn’t even finish your sentence, because soon enough, you were dropping from an 180ft height, and your hand was clutching Bucky’s possible tighter than his was clutching yours.

As it turned out, Bucky actually didn’t mind heights - the idiot just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.

It was safe to say that was the first and last ride you went on with him that day.

Peggy got an earful when you finally left the place, but she only told you that you’d have the rest of the summer to go to the carnival with her, but she thought it’d be nice to bring everyone else along, to leave you alone with Bucky.

You weren’t sure if nice was necessarily the word, but it was... something.

Something odd, definitely, because you couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of your hand in his from your mind.

* * *

It’d been two weeks before you found a job to get you through the summer. Two weeks of Peggy dragging you down to the damn clubhouse, two weeks of slowly getting used to being around the group of bikers, two weeks of Bucky calling you baby and you telling him to stop calling you baby.

When you’d finally managed to get Peggy on her own on a trip to beach one weekend, she’d asked you what you thought of him. Him specifically.

“I knew you’d warm up to them.” The brunette had said, leaning back on her palms as the sun hit her skin, grains of golden sand feeling soft between her fingers.

“They’re alright.” You’d replied, staring aimlessly at the dimmed clear sky through your sunglasses, lazily laid back on a pale pink beach towel. “Just a group of friends takin’ each day as it comes. Don’t need a lot of money, don’t need a lot of anything. There’s never a dull moment with them, is there? You’ve gotta admire that.”

Your words put a small smile on Peggy’s lips. “And Bucky? What do you think of him?”

Bucky. He called you baby when you told him not to, though you sort of glad he never stopped. He found your best friend and his best friend just as disgustingly sweet as you did. He had a smart mouth, but you had a smarter one. He was pretty, sure. He had his moments, and he ruined them himself when he made a stupid comment straight after. He flirted with you relentlessly, and you weren’t sure that he even knew he was doing it. He made you want to smack the smirk off his lips, but he also made you want to kiss it away.

What? No, you didn’t want to kiss him. You didn’t get attached, especially not guys like Bucky who didn’t seem to get attached either.

“He’s okay.”

The girl raised her brow, gazing down at you questioningly. “Just okay?”

His hand was rough against yours, you remembered; a feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time. He had dreamy baby blues and was too charming for his own good. He shared cigarettes with you and even offered to give you a ride home on his motorcycle when you were at the clubhouse late. You always declined, though, because... he probably offered every girl a ride home on his bike. Shared his cigarettes with a bunch of girls and charmed any girl that caught his eye.

Bucky didn’t want you, he didn’t like you like that. And that was fine, because you felt the exact same way. Or you liked to tell yourself that, anyway. But none of it mattered; you were only in Brooklyn for the summer, you’d probably never see him again for long time.

You exhaled quietly, letting your eyes flutter shut under your sunglasses.

“Just okay.”

The day at the beach was your last day of true relaxation before you got your new job; Peggy had talked to Natasha about you needing a job, and Natasha happened to have a friend that owned a bar not far from the clubhouse. It was always somewhat busy, even more so during the sweltering summers when everyone just wanted a cold bottle of beer to survive the heat.

Wanda, the owner of the bar, ended up offering you a temporary job. You’d worked in bars before in a bunch of different cities, saving up for your next round of traveling, so you were able to get started straight away. It didn’t mean you saw Peggy and the group any less, however, since they seemed to hang out at that bar regularly too.

Though, they failed to mention that they weren’t the only biker gang that liked to hang out there.

One light, Friday night, you were wiping down the top of the bar while the demand for drinks had died down for the time being. Peggy was sat on the stool opposite you, Steve was playing pool with Sam and Clint, Natasha was sat conversing with Wanda on the other end of the bar, and Bucky... well. Bucky was curled up on a couch in the corner of the room, partly shielded by the guys playing pool. Only partly, as you could still see him with his arm around a gorgeous blonde, signature smirk sitting comfortably on his lips as the girl placed her hand on his lower thigh. While you refused to let yourself stare, Peggy didn’t miss you glancing over at them from time to time, a slight crease in your brow.

“You can say it, you know.” She said, red lips pressed against the rim of her glass. “That you don’t like seeing James with another woman.”

A heavy scoff left your mouth, one that Bucky probably heard from his place in the corner. “Bold of you to assume I give a shit about who he chooses to spend his time with.” You did, however. You annoyingly did give a shit about who he spent his time with.

Peggy shook her head, chuckling lightly. “He likes you, I can see it.”

“He likes being a pain in my ass.” You narrowed your eyes, still having the stupid sight of Bucky and the blonde cuddling up together in your peripheral vision.

“Because it gets a reaction out of you. It’s obvious he wants your attention.”

“Well, Pegs, we’re not kids. He’s a big boy; if he wants my attention, he can talk to me, not some hot, beautiful girl whose makeup is actually really pretty...”

Okay, maybe it irked you a small bit. Only a tiny, tiny bit that you hadn’t spoken to Bucky at all that night. Peggy was about to tease you even more, sensing your jealousy with ease, until the doors of the bar swung open.

Everyone’s heads turned instantly, eyeing the new crowd of hard-faced, leather-wearing guys. You noticed Steve narrowing his eyes at the group from pool table, and you could assume test these guys weren’t exactly popular amongst his motorcycle club. Even Peggy’s eyes were drawn to them as they made their entrance. Well, Bucky still hadn’t pried his eyes away from the girl next to him, but whatever.

“Talk about a dramatic entrance.” You let out a laugh, but the brunette didn’t seem to find humour in the situation like you did. “Who are these guys, Pegs?”

She turned back to you, lips pressed into a narrow line. “The guys that Steve said his club have a run-in with from time to time, it’s them.”

“Oooh, does that mean there’s gonna be a brawl? I’ve always wanted to see a bar fight in real life.”

Your friend shot you a look, the look that she gave you at least ten times a day for saying something she didn’t particularly find amusing. Well, you win some, you lose some. “_____, they’re not like our guys. You should watch what you say around them.”

“Peggy, I think we’ve been friends long enough for you to know that I don’t watch what I say around anyone. Especially some dudes who think ridin’ around on bikes and starting fights randomly makes them all ‘alpha’-”

“Bars not that far from the entrance, sweetheart. We can hear ya loud and clear.” A raspy voice called from across the room, drawing your attention over to the group of new customers.

You leaned your elbows on the wooden bar top, ignoring Peggy’s warning look. “That’s great, man. Means you have working ears.”

The man in the center of the group scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair before making his way over to where you were stood behind the bar. You noticed Peggy shuffle uncomfortably, but she kept her chin up confidently as the man perched himself on the stool next to her, eyes trained on you. They scanned your top half up and down as if he was analyzing you, but you didn’t give him any sort of reaction. “You new around here?”

“New to working here, not new to Brooklyn.” You answered simply, adjusting your apron as you stood up straight. “D’you and your friends wanna order?”

“We’ll start with a round of beers.”

With a nod, you collected several glasses from the cabinet below the bar top and began filling them to the rim with beer. Apparently, this guy couldn’t just stay quiet as he waited for the drinks. He spared a glance at Peggy, who’d pulled out her phone as a way of not having to deal with any sort of interaction with him for the night. His eyes then went back to you. “You friends with Peggy, here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Does that mean you’re part of Steve’s club then?”

A light chuckle left your lips as you slid a cool glass of beer across to the man, noticing as Peggy began to stand up from the stool she’d been sat on. Well, the guy didn’t seem that bad. You could have a conversation with him on your own, right?

“I’m not part of any club.” You smirked, prompting him to mirror your expression. He seemed pleased with your answer.

He sipped his drink lightly as you placed the rest of the drinks on a tray and positioned it on the end of the bar for the rest of his group to collect. “You know, I like you, birdie.”

“You’ve known me for thirty seconds.” You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning down on the bar again. “And if you call me that again, that beer’s getting chucked in your face.”

Ignoring your threat, he leans in closer, close enough that you can smell the smoke on his breath. “I think you’d fit in well with us.”

“Like I said, I’m not part of any club.”

While he didn’t seem like an immediate threat to you, you decided that whoever this guy was, you didn’t like him. It seemed like Peggy and the others already weren’t fond of him anyway, and they probably wouldn’t take too kindly to you bantering back and forth with him. And if he was only talking to you because he wanted you to join his damn club, then you didn’t care to talk to him for much longer.

The man inched his hand closer to yours, but you didn’t move a muscle. Letting your guard down in front of guys like him was something you refused to let yourself ever do. “My name’s Brock; care to share yours?”

“Not really, no.” You shrugged, about to step away from your position at the bar after noticing a few people waiting for refills, when you felt a hand clasp around your wrist. Your jaw tightened, snapping your eyes up to Brock’s. “Can I help you, Brock?”

“I think you should come sit over there with us.” He stated, and you looked over to where he was referring to. A large, circular table in the darker area of the bar, where the rest of his clan were laughing obnoxiously loud and chugging their drinks as if their lives depended on it.

You attempted to tug yourself away from his grasp yourself, but it only tightened. “I have customers to see to.”

“I’m sure Wanda can take ‘em.”

A deep exhale left your lips. You didn’t notice Bucky’s curious eyes lingering on you from his seat in the corner, no longer focused on the blonde. “Brock, get your fucking hand off my wrist.”

His features hardened, eyes no longer filled with amusement, but anger. “You know, you’ve got some balls speakin’ to me like that.”

You responded lowly and calmly, eyes never moving from his. “I don’t need balls to tell conceited assholes to fuck off.”

“You little-”

Before you could receive the abuse Brock was about to spit at you, the pressure was removed from around your wrist, and you were left with some faint bruising on your skin. However, that was the last thing on your mind as you watched the man being shoved from his seat on the barstool, the third of him hitting the floorboards drawing everyone’s attention to him.

Bucky. His jaw was clenched as he stared down at Brock on the ground with disgust, and from how close he was stood to him, you were sure that he was the reason the man was groaning on the floor at the moment.

“What the hell are you doin’, huh?” He yelled down at Brock, annoyance laced in his tone. “Grabbing a woman like that, what the fuck is wrong with you, Rumlow?”

Unfortunately for him, Brock wasn’t done yet. He sprung up from the ground, rage practically sleeping through his skin and slammed his fist into Bucky’s nose, sending him stumbling back a few steps. While you’d only just told Peggy that you wanted to see a bar fight, you didn’t really want to see one that involved Bucky, even if it was against some dickhead who had the nerve to grab you like it was nothing. It wasn’t long before Steve rushed over to the scene, clutching his friend by the shoulders so that he didn’t fall back completely. A harsh glare was sent towards Brock, who only stood smugly, ignoring the ache in his back from the fall.

“What’re you still doing here? Get the hell outta here.” The blond almost growled.

“I don’t take orders from you, Rogers. This ain’t your place.”

“But it is mine.” Wanda emerged from behind the bar, standing next to Steve with a raised pistol in her hands. Her accent was thick, and her expression serious. If you were Brock, you’d be crapping your pants. “Get out, now.”

The man frowned in frustration, darting his eyes between Bucky, who was holding his bloody nose, and you, who decided to say screw it and flip him off, to which he only looked more like he wanted to rip someone’s head off. Though, he eventually waved over his group of equally annoyed bikers and kicked open the doors of the bar, leaving the building with a harsh slam of the door.

And they didn’t even pay for their drinks, bastards. Now, now you saw why everyone hated them.

Your eyes flicked back up to Bucky. Red smothered his hands, pain flashing in his eyes as he touched his clearly broken nose gently, trying to assess the damage himself. Almost subconsciously, you grasped a thin towel from a counter under the bar, along with a handful of ice cubes from the ice bucket. You wrapped the ice in the towel, creating a barely-adequate ice pack before removing yourself from behind the bar to approach Bucky.

Steve gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder, stepping back as he saw you coming towards them.

Bucky’s gaze soon met yours, a new look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. Why did he do that?, you wondered. You weren’t in distress, you weren’t panicked in the slightest. Something must’ve sparked in him to make him leave the girl he seemed to have wrapped around his finger before, but you weren’t sure what that was.

Blood continued to gush from his nose, and it was likely going to make a mess if it wasn’t cleaned up soon.

You bit down on your bottom lip, looking over his nose and the blood trickling down his cupid’s bow. “C’mon, we need to get you some tissues.”

He had no time to object before you were ushering him towards the bathroom of the bar, taking him into the small room and shutting the door behind you to muffle the chattering that’d arisen from the incident. With a nod towards the toilet seat, you encouraged him to sit down as you plucked multiple sheets of tissue from the roll of toilet paper.

“You know,” Bucky spoke up as you placed a gentle hand on his jaw, angling it so you see the damage and wipe away the blood as best as you could. “You don’t have to do this.”

You huffed quietly. “You didn’t have to push Brock off his stool and get yourself punched either, pal.”

The biker furrowed his brows. “He had his hands on you, what was I supposed to do? Sit there and watch?”

“I could’ve handled it myself. I’m not some damsel in distress, you know.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” He chuckled, wincing slightly as you continued to dab at his nose. “I was half expecting you to be the one to shove him off his seat.”

A smile attempted to tug at your lips, but you wouldn’t allow it to spread any further. So, Bucky had been aware of your existence the whole night, but he’d decided to spend it instead with a girl he’d only just met. Because maybe you did care about who he chose to put his time into, and maybe it hurt that it wasn’t you that he chose. But it shouldn’t matter, because you shouldn’t have liked him. You’d only be around for another two months before you were on a bus out of the city again; developing feelings for anyone was just a recipe for disaster.

You rested some fresh tissue against his nose, asking him to hold it while you applied the ice to the bruised area.

“Do those guys come here often?” You asked him. “Cause I don’t know if I can handle seeing Brock’s stupid face every Friday night.”

That coaxed a snort out of Bucky. “Even if they do come back, which they probably won’t, I’m sure you won’t have a problem showing ‘em the way out. You’ve got an attitude on you, baby. Dicks like them are scared of women who talk back.”

Yeah, he was right. Because if Brock did show his face again on the bar, you’d be avenging Bucky and knocking the asshat onto the floor yourself.

“You shouldn’t call me that, you know.”

“Call you what?” He cocked a brow.

“You know what.” You rolled your eyes, focusing on the ice pack on his nose rather than his eyes that were looking up at you. “I’m not sure your girlfriend out there would like that.”

A short silence overcame the two of you. Bucky crinkled his brows, lips pursing in question before widening into a small smirk. Not his usual smug one, however, but an endearing one - it was almost comforting to you. “The blonde? That wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really.” He paused as you tipped his jaw to the other side, fingers lightly brushing over his stubble as you pressed the ice back onto his nose. “I didn’t even get her name. She was really drunk when she came stumblin’ over to the couch where I was, and there were creeps sitting on a table near us eyeing her up. I didn’t wanna leave her in case they tried somethin ‘ on with her, so I pretended that I knew her until those guys finished their drinks and left. When I saw Rumlow givin’ you a hard time, I told Sam to call her and her friend a cab, who I’m sure was also drunk as hell and had gone out the back to throw up.”

Bucky Barnes has never made you speechless before. When he came out with smart comments, they never took you by surprise, because all he did was make smart comments, either flirtatious ones towards you or narcissistic ones about himself. But this? This was something pleasantly surprising. Not that you thought he was a complete asshole who wouldn’t help a drunk girl out if she needed it, but he stayed with her all night, only leaving her to help another girl being hassled by a guy (again, not that you needed the help).

“Wow, Bucky. That was... really nice of you.” You said fondly.

“See? I can be nice.” He grinned, not able to stop himself from making a teasing remark.

“Surprisingly, yes, you can.” You bit back a smile, finally allowing your eyes to meet his. “And... I appreciate it, you standing up to Brock like that. I mean, you could’ve at least let me toss his beer in his face first...”

The biker chuckled, something glazing his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before (despite it happening a lot around you) - adoration. A fondness he usually got when he took his bike down the freeway at sunset, when he was able to see the blood-orange sphere in the warm sky slowly heading in to rest for the night. A softness that he got when he attended Becca’s high school graduation, witnessing the very moment that his baby sister wasn’t such a baby anymore. For some reason, after that comment in that moment, Bucky felt a warmth in his chest that he thought he’d never feel.

Your hand was resting in his jaw gently, innocently. Yet it made the man feel a hundred different things at once. It’d only been two weeks; he didn’t even know you, really. He knew that you were confident, not afraid of speaking your mind. That you were free-spirited, a traveler. But he didn’t know you. He didn’t know what your childhood was like, what your family was like. What movies made you cry, what your biggest fears were and what you wanted to achieve in life. Bucky found himself wanting to know it all and more; you just had that effect on him.

“Maybe, but what if he’d decided to deck you in the face instead?”

“Hm, nothing I haven’t experienced before.” Bucky raised a brow, but you only smirked. “That’s a story for another time.”

If that insinuated that he and you would have more time alone together, then Bucky was fine waiting for that story to come to light. “I’ll look forward to hearin’ it, baby.”

You found yourself dazed for a few moments, absentmindedly trailing your fingers up Bucky’s jaw to his forehead, pushing a few brown strands back that had fallen over his eyes after the incident with Brock. They then traced over his cheekbone, lingering for a moment as you met his gaze again, his eyes looking brighter and bluer than you’d ever seen them. There was still a little bit of blood just under his nose, which itself was bruising over. But he was still pretty, still handsome, and his charming grin remained on his pink lips even with the pain in his nose.

“Bucky?” You spoke up suddenly, your next words possibly being ones you’d regret once the summer was over and at an end.

“Yeah?”

...

“I like it when you call me baby.”

#biker!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky #bucky barnes

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nxrthmizu · 4 years ago

Text

| snakes | Suna Rintarou

»»——⍟——««

song | Trust Fund Baby - Why Don’t We

pairing | Suna Rintarou x Reader

words | 1.8k

warning(s) | The reader has undertones of someone who’s sort of mean and sadistic? The story also relates the reader to a snake. I like snakes. I think they’re cool. But if you’re scared of snakes and you’re uncomfortable with the idea of being referenced to a snake,,, don’t read, I guess?

author’s note | I rewrote this five fricking times and I still hate it but I’m not writing this again so have this

»»——⍟——««

Confidence.

He could feel it radiating off you in waves. Your presence diffused into the gym, alerting every person in the room of your arrival. Attention was drawn to you like moths were drawn to the light, every pair of eyes magnetised to your form by the gym door.

Kita instantly rushed over to greet you politely, the details of your conversation too far away to be heard. For a brief moment, Suna registered just how well the two of you looked together.

L/N Y/N, the representative and top student of his class, the newly-elected second-year secretary of the student council. No one doubted that you would take the president position in your third year, not with the ‘perfect student’ image you had going on.

Kita Shinsuke, also top in grades, captain of the volleyball club, well-liked by the staff and students alike due to his politeness and nature.

The two of you looked like a perfect imitation of what a modern royalty would be like. A combination of grace, elegance, and a face that was hardly fazed by anything. Something similar to bitterness ate away in the bottom of Suna’s heart as he turned away, muttering about putting more practice into his blocks.

“What was she looking for you for?” He overheard Aran asking.

“Oh, she’s filling in some missing information for our club. She came over to clarify some details.” Kita answered easily.

Suna wasn’t really surprised when a couple third years, belonging to the student council committee- Showed up on the doorsteps of your shared class, asking to see you. Later on, he learned that the entire council body had brought up your name when asked which second-year should be elected as the secretary. You were well-known, even among the third years, as someone who possessed high intellect and organisation abilities, so it wasn’t a shock that your name was the one that nearly everyone suggested.

If only they knew.

If only they knew that you weren’t completely that ‘perfect student’ act that you’d put up.

If only they knew just how cunning, sly, and sarcastic you really were.

»»——⍟——««

If Suna had to describe you in one word, it would be snake.

You were the definition of elegance, grace, and beauty. Every movement you made was meticulously calculated and not a single joule of energy was wasted or passed off as inefficiently used. There was never a hair out of place, and your skirt was never creased, no matter how long you had been sitting at your seat.

Of course, Suna hadn’t always thought of you as a snake. It was only after that one fine summer day in his first year that his perception of you took a 180 turn, revealing to him what you truly were like.

He had been on his way home, bag slung over his shoulder, when he caught the slight noise that seemed like a whimper. Never one to leave his nose out of someone else’s business, Suna slunk around, careful to stick to the shadows until the shocking sight befell his eyes.

“So, you’re the one who’s been bullying [your brother’s name]?” The voice that dripped from your lips was distasteful, as if the junior high student that you had cornered in the alley was a filthy peasant compared to your royal status. “You don’t look very fierce now, do you?”

If sarcasm was an art, then you’d probably be a DaVinci-level expert. He would even go as far as calling you a prodigy. And if there was a championship for the world’s most sarcastic human being, he would instantly sign you up. There was no doubt that you’d take home the no.1 trophy in that category (not that you weren’t already taking home trophies in other competitions, of course, he overheard that you recently dominated an advanced maths competition).

“I— I’m sorry!” The student shivered under your piercing gaze. “I— I won’t touch him again, I promise—!”

The laugh you responded with was overly sweet, combined with something from a Disney movie villain. If the movie also, by chance, happened to have ‘horror’ as its’ genre. Your eyes carried a maniacal threat that Suna believed wholeheartedly that you were capable of carrying out. “Bold of you to assume I’d even let you do it again.” You whispered, just loud enough for Suna to catch your words.

The junior high student scrambled off, too busy getting away to notice Suna by the entrance of the alley. He slipped away before you reappeared at the beginning of the alley, having fixed your hair and flattened your skirt.

You looked like a snake that had just finished a very satisfying meal. Suna could hardly believe that he had just heard you— the pride and joy of every teacher, the ‘perfect student’— spitting insults and threats at 200 words per minute, all while maintaining a ‘polite’ and ‘sweet’ tone.

He was a little breathless after the whole ordeal. He could barely imagine what you would say to him if you’d caught him listening— But damn, part of him wanted to find out if he could withstand your literature-form venom. Truly, you were a snake— A creature that could hold its’ elegance even as your tore your prey apart (verbally).

Suna always liked snakes.

»»——⍟——««

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with L/N, Kita.” Aran teased, Suna overhearing as he stepped into the locker room for morning practice. Freezing in his tracks, the middle blocker curved right round the bend, staying out of sight. “There’s been a lot of rumours about how nice the two of you look together.”

The volleyball captain only hummed in response, which, for some reason, pissed the hell out of Suna.

“Come on, tell me something.” The other third-year complained. “She’s really pretty, I’d totally see why you’d go for her.”

Something about the situation made Suna’s blood boil. He bit back his rising anger, setting aside the cause for the moment. Why was he getting so riled up? He never cared much about things in general, anyway, so... So why was the image of you and Kita, matching polite smiles on your lips— Why did it make him so furious he had to physically resist the urge to punch a wall?

“The two of you do look nice together, though.” Aran continued as Suna pushed down the urge to strangle his upperclass-man. “Gives me the vibes of—”

Before Aran could finish his sentence, the dark-haired middle blocker marched into the locker room, apologising for how loudly he had slammed the door open. “Sorry.” He drawled lazily, restraining the lava-hot anger in his blood. “I pushed too hard.”

»»——⍟——««

You didn’t even blink, much less jump when Suna appeared abruptly by your desk. Instead, you simply set down your pencil and gave him a warm smile. “Can I help you with something?”

Ever the helpful class president, Suna bit back to himself. No, no, he wanted you to like him. Not get a bad impression of him. “Do you... Think you could help me with the physics homework?”

“It’s due tomorrow.” You said slowly, both of you aware that the assignment was well over forty pages. “Have you... Tried it?”

“Yes.” He answered. “I’ve got a few questions I need help with. Are you free to stay back today?”

This raised a tentative eyebrow from you. “Don’t you have volleyball practice?”

Dammit, why did you have to have such a good memory.

“Academics are more important than the club sometimes.” He shrugged. “I’ve got permission to skip.” No, he didn’t.

“Alright then. I’ll meet you in the library after school.”

»»——⍟——««

He watched you through hooded eyes as you reviewed his work. So you did know how to let loose, Suna murmured to himself in amusement, eyeing your untucked blouse and the beige sweater you’d thrown on in a defence against the library’s air-conditioning.

“You’ve got most of the parts down, which bits do you need help with?”

The rest of the time was spent going over the questions, your patience filling the silence along with his occasional ‘ohs’. Your handwriting flooded through his homework in neat rows, providing an easy-to-follow, step-by-step guide on how to work through the questions, for revision purposes.

“So.”

You broke the silence, the two of you walking side by side, leaving the school together because he offered to buy you some food as a payment for the tutoring.

“Are you going to tell me why you faked confusion and asked me to tutor you?”

He winced. How could he forget that you were always straight to the point?

“What do you mean?” The look on your face clearly said ‘feigning ignorance, eh?’.

“I’m going to be frank with you,” You deadpanned. “You’re among the best at physics in our class. Some of the questions you asked me to help you through were ones that had been discussed in classes, and I know that you are listening even though you have your head on the table.”

Alright, so he had under-predicted exactly how observant and attentive you were.

“Then why did you agree to help me?”

“You saw me that day, didn’t you?”

He stopped walking. “Which day?”

“That day. In our first year. When I threatened that junior high kid in the alley.” You stopped too, to turn your expressionless gaze on him. “You’ve looked at me differently since that day. I heard someone else’s breathing at the alley, but I didn’t see anyone so I figured they’d ran. I guessed it was you.”

“... Yeah.”

“You don’t seem to mind.”

“Mind what?”

“The fact that this...” You gestured to yourself. “Is a lie. This whole ‘perfect student’ image is an act that I put up to please my parents. I’m actually someone who has really mean thoughts. I could be a really toxic friend. I’m also probably a sadist.”

Suna blinked quietly at you, running your words through his head a couple more times for good measure. “You remind me of a snake.”

In that one sentence, you realised that if there was one person in the world that was going to be fine with your personality the way it was, that person would probably be Suna Rintarou. The two of you continued your walk to the takoyaki shop Suna offered to buy you food from, continuing meaningless chatter on the journey.

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“I like snakes.”

“That’s cool. Me too.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I think they’re pretty cool. They’re like spiders, except they’re not insects. I don’t like insects very much.”

“Hmm. I like snakes cause I think they’re really elegant. And pretty.” He paused for a moment. “Like you.”

»»——⍟——««

taglist. @mrs-kuroojinguji @procrastination-lady @miel-meraki @shoyosun @aka-a-shii @shibayamasbae @churochuu @seijohlogy @dearsukuna @whootwhoot

Haikyuu!! gen taglist. @owlywrites @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @our-tall-slytherin-queen

#suna rintarou #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fluff #what even is this #fluff?#suna rintarō #suna #suna x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #cady writesss «#cadowly's songfic december

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cadykeus-clay · 4 years ago

Note

Would you mind sharing your thoughts about vex and Beau being cross campaign foils?

so!!!! first things first: apologies for taking weeks to answer this, finals + having adhd sometimes makes my brain turn to mush and forget every ask ive ever recieved. second of all, i’m assuming you sent me this bc of what i said in my vm vs. m9 how they view the world meta. and i’ll be real with you. i have exactly 0 memory of what was going through my head when i wrote that line, so i am simply going to type out a bunch of thoughts that i have on the similarities and differences between beau and vex and i hope that lives up to what you were expecting jsdflksjdksld

I'll detail some specifics in a moment, but overall, I think beau and vex share a very similar kind of trauma of exclusion in their formative years, that's caused them to have a lot of similar traits that manifest in different ways - for vex, she maintains control through her material posessions and beau finds an emotional control in her asshole-ness. I've broken this down into 5 points on which I think comparing the two really emphasizes that claim:

1. daddy issues: both beau and vex have awful no good terrible very bad dads. both syldor and thoreau can suck my ass. they both raised their kids with little love and impossible-to-meet expectations, alientating them and leaving them with lifelong feelings of inferiority and unbelonging. If beau and vex were to meet, i think they would have a very friendly toast to shitty dads, and then have a good drunk vent about it an hour later.

but, at the same time, the actual minutae of their trauma and the ways it manifests are nearly polar opposites. syldor wanted nothing to do with vex, or else wanted her to somehow become a full elf. her issue was that she would never be able to belong, despite her desire to, and as she grew up it lead to her being overly protective and even possessive of the people she found who DID accept her as she was.

With beau, rather than exclusion, her father created an environment of toxic inclusion. He created a role for beau to belong in, disregarding her distate for actually fulfilling it. And, as such, she ended up making herself into someone who could have no expectations and pushed away anyone who tried to set them up for her. In the end, they both came to love themselves by abandoning the woman their father wanted them to be but for vex it was the laying down of an impossible dream and for beau it was the picking up of a mantle she had feared to wear.

2. brothers: now, on the topic of family, I also think its really interesting how their interactions with their brothers play out. We've got vex and vax, tied at the hip til the very end and then some; and then we've got beau and TJ - decades apart and with beau barely acknolwedging TJ's existence. But, even that distance between beau and TJ didn't stop her caring for him when they actually met. She gave him lucky Jade, and she entertained the idea of kidnapping him to get him away from her stinko dad.

And I'd espeically like to talk about what she said outside the hag's hut - "I think Luc and TJ could be best friends", in comparison to the way Vex reacted when Vax told her was going to Zephrah with Keyleth for the year break. There's an aspect to the way they interact with their brothers that lets them slip back into those bad habits they formed growing up (NOT that i'm claiming vex and vax were like toxic for each other. but even good relationships can have unhealthy moments).

With Beau, when she offers to give her happiness so TJ can grow up safe, she's trying to take on the role she's ""supposed"" to fill - the big sister, the protector - because she failed to fill the one her father set out. And with Vex, when she grows jealous of Vax, it's because she's afraid that his leaving with keyleth is a sign that she no longer belongs in his inner circle, and she falls back on that childish, desperate desire to do anything to be accepted unconditionally.

3. romance: spoilers for 5 or so most recent m9 eps (115-120) if you haven't watched them ahead!!!! at this point, both vex and beau have an endgame romance - percy and yasha respectively. Obviously as the m9's campaign is still playing out, that could change, but like. yasha wrote her a love letter and they're officially going on a date so i'm counting that as at least endgame-track rather than just random flirting. What's interesting to me is that they both seem to flip between the SAME roles between their (in-game) general perception and their actual pursual of romance.

Vex gets characterized as a pretty big flirt, right? She's got the winks, the casual "darling". She's flashed grog her boobs on multiple instances with little prompting. Beau, similarly, has easily the most game out of anyone in the m9. She's slept with two guest characters and at least one more npc in the events of the game. Caleb made her a fuck mirror in her room in the mansion. And yet, in both of their actual romantic endeavors, they became the shy, uncertain type.

Vex only confessed her feelings when Percy was laying dead before her, and not an hour of game play before percy kissed her in the woods, she had a talk with vax about how she was pretty sure he didn't like her that way and she didn't want to pursue it. Beau, similarly, spent a very long time convinced that yasha wasn't looking for love after zuala, especially not in anyone like her, asked everyone in the party if they thought yasha ACTUALLY liked her, just to be safe, and then still terrified to ask her out after recieving a literal love letter. I'd argue this shift comes from that same sense of unbelonging - they're very good at pretending they fit a role but doubt their actual right to take it when the opportunity is presented. This time, the role is the lover rather than the daughter.

4. authority: Both vex and beau grew up shunned by the upper crust of society, and grew to mistrust those kinds of people. And yet, both of their arcs result in them assuming such a position. Vex, thrown out of high society gets her place as a baronness, and Beau, running from leadership of her father's business ends up a top member of the Cobalt Soul. There's not a lot here, but I find it interesting how both of their stories involve them shedding their baggage regarding authority and power and assuming it in a way that they feel comfortable in - invitation by someone she trusts for vex, and a promise of freedom of will and control for beau.

5. their deadliest sins: this is the point at which their similarities culminate and transform to a fundamental difference. despite everything they share - shitty childhoods, the small piece of family that's still good, flirtiness masking shy love, and a mistrust of those in power - vex and beau are such different characters because of their biggest vices. Vex, both in game and out, is "the greedy one". She's stingy with money, she haggles for everything, she mourns the loss of physical objects. Beau is "the mean one". She cares little for people's feelings if they're not in her immediate circle, she focuses on her tough guy image, she laughs at things she knows she shouldn't.

And, over the course of the campaign, as they find unconditional acceptance, they grow away from these traits (I won't say they grow out of them) because they heal from the things causing these vices to begin with. I've always been vocal about vex's greed being a manifestation of her class insecurity, and beau's asshole-ness stemming from her fear of being forced back into another position of complacency. And I stand by that now - all the similarities in their backstories are what tally up to these different women.

Despite her careful tally of party funds and her reflexive bargaining, vex is not cruel. she is not angry on her own behalf. She saves two boys from the market in the city of brass at great personal cost, she relinquishes an entire dragon's hoard to the devastated city of Westruun, she took the time to save a baby bear from a cage when she could have just cut and run after escaping her own. She's the first one most people go to when they need a shoulder to cry on, and she's devastated when they don't (thinkin about when Scanlan left). She carved "forgiveness" into the bow she stole from a man after killing him by proclaiming how much she loved someone, because she knew anger had no place in her heart.

And Beau, Beau is a bitch and she's harsh, but she doesn't hoard or protect like vex did. she spends her money without much of a second thought. She pitches in to help her friends buy a ton of glowsticks, and she loves to indulge in material desires like drink and good food and the nicer inn room. She's a member of an organization that's about making knowledge public rather than guarding it. And, though this may be controversial, I think her position with bowlgate of "its not our problem what cali wants to do with it", her long-standing mistrust of their alliance with the bright queen and and more recently with the tomb takers of "i want to go in and talk, rather than assuming they're antagonistic, even if it puts us at a disadvantage" are both examples of this non-possessiveness too - she has no need or desire to get involved in controlling what other people are doing.

so, i guess the general conclusion here is: vex struggles to let go of things, of money, of people. beau struggles to let herself be known in case she gets wrongly interpreted again. they both fight feelings of inadequacy, they both fight the feelings of not belonging, of 'doing it wrong', they fight the perception of them as shitty people because of the shells they hide in despite their absolute hearts of gold. but at the end of the day, vex's story is one of having to lay down what could never be hers so she can carry what is, and beau's story is one of allowing herself to be known so a place can be made for her.

#hope this is what you and that other anon were looking for jdsflkdsajfsaldfsa #critical role #vexahlia #beauregard #long post

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roccinan · 3 years ago

Note

I'm risking sounding terribly egoistical by sending a public ask about my own url here but I'm doing it!!!!! I need the super graphic-details

Your ego is my ego, dearest nharidy. There's a reason the doc is named after you hahaha

[ 👉 My Wips ]

OK so the Absolvisti sequel's been sitting in my head since well, the week after I published it lmao. But I never got around to writing because I wasn't sure if it was being too self-indulgent (I'm feeling more confident about it now that I know you'll be pleased by it!). Also because I was having trouble deciding on a pov: should I continue with the Tatiana 1st person pov as always? Change it up to Martin 3rd person? or surprise: 1st person Don Juan?? Should it be a new chapter or new fic? (def. open to suggestions here!) Also I think it'd be Iconic to publish a story in the Dies Irae universe with our new cat profile pics.

Graphic detail time :D Prepare for a SUPER LONG answer LMAO. Most of the things I mentioned here and here will make their way in, with maybe a bonus ns/fw chapter from Martin or Andres' pov. The main story is SFW however, and there's like a hilariously high amount of hurt!Andres, who doesn't have demons to rely on anymore but still carries all the permanent damage the demons left on him:

It takes place some months after Absolvisti so Andres is doing better, but not fully well yet. He's not actively dying anymore but he does faint a lot and isn't exactly making a full recovery. Because I wanted to make things harder for Martin. Because he's not a young man anymore, the wounds were super extensive, and this is the result of years of accumulated damage + a form of "withdrawal" (the shadows/demons that used to feed on him were also the things that kept him alive so it's one big cycle that his body isn't leaving that easily).

This means every time Martin plans something nice for him like seeing a play or going out for a nightly walk, Andres can't go through the whole thing without feeling unwell. (Martin: "I over-exerted the love of my life. I am so SELFISH. what does Andres see in me??" Andres: "I disappointed the love of my life. I am the WEAKEST. what does Martin see in me??" Tatiana: feed me, bitches)

They manage to sit through one play though (not sure if I want this at the beginning or end of the fic LMAO). It's the one Bogota wrote, The Necromancer's Lament, a "biopic" about Andres' life. And it's every bit as terrible as Martin expected. Bad special effects, bad acting especially from Martin's actor, Andres' actor has a beard, and Tatiana looks like this:

Andres thinks it's the best play ever. Martin hates it and demands a refund. Tatiana hates it too but Don Juan's like, "mi amor, you are still beautiful to me, even as a deformed puppet."

Martin's 120-page complaints aside, Bogota runs the theatre troupe with his partner, Nairobi/Agata, and they're both going to start teaching performing arts at Santa Catalina because the last drama professor died lmao

Meanwhile, Santa Catalina has a new bad girl student, Tokyo/Silene! Sergio took her in as a charity case after some dark and mysterious events in her life. But Tokyo being Tokyo can't stay away from trouble, and she becomes obsessed with finding the demons that Andres expelled. Some bizarre possessions start happening again and the school's sponsors force Raquel to keep it under wraps. (Raquel: maybe if you increased funding, we wouldn't have so many problems!!)

In the meantime, Martin gets that letter from a long lost relative asking to meet him. Not sure about the order of this either. Anyway, Martin was planning to ignore the relative, but Andres insists he go. Either Tatiana or Don Juan accompany him. Martin learns that he's the sole heir of his dead parents across the sea (the will: “we forgive you for being a heretic, a freak of nature, and the alchemist of Palermo. also no hard feelings for leaving you to die as a baby xoxoxo”). There's one (1) condition though: he has to end his partnership with the necromancer. Martin: NO THANKS.

So while Martin's dealing with this unexpected drama, Sergio decides to call in Andres' expertise TM again because it's also a good excuse to talk to his brother. Martin is Very wary about this and rejects him. But Andres insists that it'll be fine. Plus, maybe he wants to turn a new leaf and help Santa Catalina for nothing in return this time. Not everyone gets a second chance at life and he doesn't want to be a bad person anymore uwu (Tatiana: "Andres was a pretentious piece of shit, surprising no one." Martin: "Nobody deserves Andres, not even me, and I'm like, the most amazing person in the world.")

Andres comes to do the exorcism with the random priest the school hired. And they discover there aren't any demons- it's just some ghost fucking around (maybe I'll make it the spirit of Gandia or Alicia since they haven't shown up yet lol). Anyway, it doesn't go very well but Andres gets rid of the creature or whatever. Not before it punctures a hole in his side though. Then Martin loses it, just full-on screams at Sergio for almost getting Andres killed again, makes a lot of threats against the school, etc. etc.

Raquel, being more useful, plugs up the wound. But the priest accidentally provokes Martin more by asking Raquel if he should mop up Andres' blood with holy water or something. What if the necromancer's blood is cursed?? And now it's all over the floor, so disgusting :/

Martin, already in a very bad mood, beats the priest up.

They go home. Martin's in a really sour mood and he just doesn't understand why Andres isn't mad at Sergio. Martin: "It's really emotionally damaging to me if you don't give a fuck about yourself." Andres makes him even angrier by bringing up the Berrote family will and having the audacity to suggest Martin leave him for money. He makes a huge case about how he literally has nothing to offer Martin except a body that barely works and a terrible reputation. Martin: "I lost a fucking eye for you??"

They fight and Martin storms away, and also kidnaps Don Juan, his honorary new soulmate who would never betray him like Andres.

A while after this, the Spanish Inquisition local clergy arrests Andres for "questioning." Because the shenanigans at Santa Catalina are still going on and that one priest suspects him of being behind everything just because. Raquel's the one who bails him out. She may not like Sergio's brother, but the way everyone else treats him is ridiculous.

Andres limps home, hoping Martin's still away. Surprise! Martin felt guilty and came back. And it's pretty obvious that Andres has just been tortured. Martin: "Say no more. I'm going to kill some people."

Andres gets Martin to not do anything stupid by dropping the thing with the will. He admits he was wrong for saying those things to Martin and he selfishly, genuinely wants to stay with Martin forever. Martin: "I'm still going to kill your brother. You may appease me with a kiss."

Does it end here? No! Because the shit at Santa Catalina is still happening. Andres and Martin solve it for good though. But it's all very dramatic. I'm vaguest about this part, but maybe Nairobi's injured saving Tokyo, and this gives Tokyo the wakeup call to move on from whatever baggage that got her into this mess in the first place. Then Andres' solution for saving Nairobi is to ask Martin to work that alchemist magic and transfer her wounds onto himself (at this point, we're just going overboard with the Andres whump but asdfasdf why stop??). Raquel: Sergio, tell your brother to stop dying. That's a bad example for the kids.

It takes a lot of convincing, but Martin relents in the end, only because he trusts Andres. At this point, Andres has been through so much that he physically cannot take any more damage. Like, he just can't lmao. So the whole process puts Andres into a coma or something. But we don't need him anymore because now we can revel in Martin's angst!

Martin spends the rest of his time crying and angsting and guilt-tripping Sergio, and just being very loud in general. He also writes back to his family and tells them to fuck off.

Once we indulge in enough of Martin's pain, Andres finally wakes up. Still very bad off but he's alive and not showing signs of dying any time soon. So that's good enough for Martin. They have a nice heart-to-heart, and idk, maybe Raquel comes to see them because Sergio's too embarrassed to. Until Andres insists, because he loves hermanito unconditionally uwu. Martin: "watch your back, Sergio. I might murder you in your sleep (:"

Then at the very end (I have no idea how long this story is LOL), there's some kind of family photoshoot between Raquel, Sergio, and Paula. Everyone's raving over this new invention called the "camera." Andres is admiring it from a distance until Raquel's like, "get over here. what part of FAMILY photoshoot do you not understand!?"

Andres is shocked pikachu face because good will towards him for once?? he's being included in something?? people want him around?? what is happening??

Martin's happy for him though. Then he's admiring from a distance until Raquel's like, "I said FAMILY photoshoot. Get over here, Martin!"

Tatiana didn't want to be a part of it, but Paula saw her favorite talking cat and like, grabbed her lmao. Don Juan photobombs it because he can't be excluded from an activity with Tatiana, especially when his former rival Andres is in the photo too. (His current rival is Casanova, an unworthy white cat vying for Tatiana's affections)

Sergio proposes to Raquel. The end! Yes, the kitty love triangle is also a central theme of this story LMAO Hope that satisfies you, nharidy! And I welcome any and all suggestions!

#nharidy #wip meme #asdfasdf this got so long omg #as you can see I thought a LOT about this sequel and have it all written... in my head rip #but if I know it will please you then that's enough motivation for me to get it on a document #kinda want to keep it tatiana's pov since she's what holds the dies irae universe together #also because Martin's pov would be 'andres never did anything wrong in his life he is so perfect'#andres' pov: 'everyone loved Martin and I because we are so beautiful and humble and amazing'#'someone threw an apple at me yesterday- a gift from another adoring fan obviously'#adfasdf so many shades of delusional and insufferable

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msiopao · 5 years ago

Text

Sera with the Members

a/n: mark is in this because dream is now a fixed unit and he’s part of the lineup!!!!!!

WATERMELON ADDICT

was the person who made Sera comfortable since he reminded her of home

always asks if canadian bacon is better than american bacon

‘i dONt kNoW, sERa! mEAT iS mEaT!’

she didnt actually cry on stage when he was leaving but she cried when it was just the two of them and he recorded for the last time

it was her idea for hyuck to buy him a big bottle of ketchup

CANNOT believe that mark was a churchboy and ends up acting up in music videos

the duality SCARES her

calls her finny since her name is serafina

sera has her own room but she has an extra bed so he sleeps in there when he spends the night

learned this watermelon shake to help mark’s hangover

english all the time

ever since they met, mark has always placed his elbow on her head due to her short height

sera learned this fried rice recipe from her mom and he goes over to their dorm for breakfast

‘mark bls dont touch anything. get out of the kitchen and go watch tv or something’

always brings up his messed up eggs

‘gordon spitting facts tho’

whenever he feels too overworked or too pressured, sera has always made it a point to come over to their dorm and have a movie night with just the 2 of them with his favorite snacks and drinks

LONJIN

omg these two

sera is typically not mean but when renjun starts, she becomes ruthless

always calling out his fake personality

‘everyone, don’t believe him! he’s 2 faced!’

‘what are you even saying! you act like you’re so quirky and giggly but you yeeted jisung into the wall last night!’

‘YAH!’

so yea, they fight a lot

but its very playful and they know where that line is drawn and not cross it

he talks to her about space and aliens and she listens to every word bc renjun sounds so confident and happy whenever he talks about that stuff

they’re actually 10 days apart but sera acts like she’s 10 years older than him

‘IS THAT HOW YOU TALK TO SOMEONE OLDER?!’

‘okay, granny’

always in awe whenever renjun draws and paints and she really likes seeing him in his element

unbeknowst to her, he actually draws her a lot

wants to frame all of his work

they go out to the roof and stargaze

he steals her airpods just to watch her go crazy

once hid her phone in the fridge

lives for his vocals

cannot believe how much he’s grown from chewing gum era to now

her heart strings were tugged when he cried in dnyl

renjun always says that he wishes sera was born as his little sister bc they act like they’re siblings

EYESMILE PRINCE

hmm

so their is kinda complicated

sera’s closest to him than all the members bc 1, he was her first friend and 2, he has cats

before, when they still went to school, her and jeno always went together

yes, jaemin and jeno and her went together in the beginning

but jaemin was in the hospital and recovering so it just became them 2

also, she goes to visit his parents so she can see his cats

this results to his parents and older sister adoring her

‘bongsik, nal, and seol are my kids’ - lee sera, 00 line vlive

she always craves for attention and when it isnt given bc he’s too busy playing, she just walks into his room and sits on his lap while he plays

tries to get his attention by saying stuff but he teases her by acting like she aint there

‘fine, i’ll go to jaemin’

jeno wasnt supposed to be blonde for the comeback but they were just messing around and next thing they knew, jeno’s tips were bleach blonde

when shes on that,,,, time,,,,, hes the only one in the dorm she listens to

not even johnny, who’s practically her father

collabs with her mukbang show and jsmr

he mentions her like at least once whenever he has lives that she’s not in

steals his glasses all the time just to watch him wander around with this confused adorable face

hugs are so cute w these two and czennies see them hugging in videos and she can barely reach his shoulder

forehead kisses and sweater paws for daysss

NANA

drop dead gorgeous boy

shes not safe from jaemin’s affections

*cue jeno glaring at him for stealing her*

we all know how much he loves the members and whenever sera breathes, he busts his uwus

takes so many pictures of her

sera buys him lots of lip balms and carmex but he always forgets to put them on

sera hates peaches but she buys him peach flavored sweets whenever she sees them

‘NANA!!’

sera is also an attention whore so she always runs to him and wraps her arms around him and he squeals by how cute she is

bought him an expensive camera for his birthday

has a polaroid picture of him in her clear phone case

actually, her phone background is an old picture of predebut sera, jeno, and jaemin

one of the rare moments where she cried was when she found out that jaemin wouldnt be in a few comebacks bc he was sick

kept visiting him and jaemin cannot repay her enough

the dorm is full of ryan and winnie plushies from the sofa, a tiny winnie plush on the corner of the island counter, and their bedrooms

sera is the one who always throws away the his satanic drink even though it’s still full

‘yah, you need to think about your health and if it your body is tired, dont fight it by trying to drink these to keep your energy’

sleepovers with them are often and sometimes found sleeping on the spare bed in her room

FULL SUN

our big babie

oh boi when he got hurt

sera called him twice a day, one in the morning and one at night, just to check if it’s still hurting and making sure he’s resting

forever remembers when he dressed up as a girl

‘you see, i’m not the only girl member. dongsuk is just on hiatus right now’

his name on her phone is ‘man-child’

when he went on tour with 127, she really missed him

like she missed him so much that she kept posting on instagram for him to hurry back home

still mad that he moved dorms to be with the older members

when sera got sick, she made him sing ‘no longer’ to her like a lullaby

when he asks sera to do something for him, usually she says no because he asks her to do ridiculous things but his aegyo always convinces her

thinks his color amblyopia is so fascinating and adds more into the unique traits he has

another attention giver and she loves hugging him because he gives really warm hugs

one time, jeno and sera had a fight and it got so bad that hyuck had to be called and he was the only one who got to talk some sense in sera to talk to jeno

but the legendary markhyuck summer fight was resolved because sera yelled at them and cried since they are best friends and they shouldnt be like that to each other

they made up since ‘wow sera cried’ and ‘the members are ready to beat us up if we continue this’

and by members, like all members, including the older ones

sera knows how much being the moodmaker title burdens him so she tries to ease that burden by talking to him just the two of them

DOLPHIN CHILD

look how adorable he is UWU

he is 1/2 of sera’s sons

like she’s whipped for him and jisung and he knows it too

‘noona~’

‘yes, i will give you the world, the stars, and the moon’

thinks his laugh is endearing and is sad that it isnt that high-pitched anymore since his voice got a little deeper

cannot believe how much he’s grown too

when he speaks in chinese, sera thinks its the cutest thing

‘can we give his scalp some rest? its not healthy for the boy’

trust fund babies

you know how chenle has 3 airpods?

sera went through 4 phones since she keeps losing or breaking it

dont ask how bc shes as clumsy as namjoon

had this phase where he wouldn’t stop back-hugging his noona and she just left it alone

always buys him snacks and cooks him a lot of food bc she thinks he’s too skinny and wants him to be healthy and gain some fat on those cheeks again

on their break, she went to china with jisung and her lock screen is a picture of her and chenle holding his nephew

triggered her baby fever

czennies ship them but he makes it clear she’s the older sister he’s never had

nct dream took a vacation to her hometown and she bought them basketball tickets so chenle could see his idol

his mom practically adopted her since she goes over to his apartment all the time whenever the others are getting too much for her

she misses him so much its not even funny

JISUNG PWARK

our maknae is growing up :(

sera had the whole family sit and watch the first episode of dancing high

so proud of her boy

she called him during the show and it was shown and heard about her telling him to take care of himself and to not be too hard on his body and that she’s waiting for him at home

as the youngest member overall, sera babies him the most

he obvs takes advantage of it and she used to cuddle him to sleep when he was younger bc he had a hard time sleeping

again, cooks for him a lot since he’s a growing boy and making sure he takes vitamins and drinks water and limit sugary things

she calls his mom to give him updates about her son

remember his phone that he used until it actually died?

sera actually bought him a new one before that happened and just casually gave it to him

‘i know this was going to happen so i just took care of it. i have to take care of you, jisung-ah’

hypes him up whenever he dances bc wow this boy is actually talented

doesnt really like skinship but he tolerates it when she holds his hands bc theyre so much bigger than hers

one day just woke up and she got so confused when jisung grew up

‘did you grow in your sleep?’

‘n-no?’

loves his awkward nature and she keeps saying how adorable he is and cute he is whenever he acts cool

god, she’s just so whipped for him

but tbh, who isn’t?

aaaahhhhhh i cannot believe our wish came true and they became a fixed unit and we really getting a comeback and an mv in the 29th!!!

#nct dream #nct #nct 22nd member #nct dream 8th member #nct au #nct dream imagines #nct dream imagine #nct dream scenarios #nct dream scenario #nct dream 8th member au #8th member of nct dream #nct 22nd member au #22nd member of nct #nct dream female member #nct female member #nct female addition #nct dream female addition

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hot-mess-choices · 4 years ago

Text

Fixing The Nanny Affair

I’ve had it with this book. I’m not against “naughty” romance novels, but please do them right. I beg you.

This stuff has been in my brain for a while now so this will be long and messy.

First up: this isn’t a single LI book anymore. That’s a train wreck of a concept for an app that’s basically an overpriced choose-your-own-adventure book.

Who would the LIs be?

Starting with the obvious: Sam, who will remain gender customisable as the “main LI”

Next is Robin (duh) I’m on the fence regarding their gender but I’d stick with the “whatever gender Sam is” thing.

Then I’d suggest two entirely new characters:

First addition: An intern at Dalton Enterprise (how this is relevant will follow later on), I’d prefer this character to be female (definitely not to make an all wlw book possible *cough*) but a male intern would also be okay I guess. (Alternatively whichever gender is opposite of the MC)

And 2. *drumroll please* Sam’s wife who’s not dead at all in this new and improved version. ‘Cause that’s how you write about an actual affair Pixleberry, you cowards! I’m so sick of authors using the dead spouse trope without doing anything with it. She deserves to be in this story. However she’d be a “surprise” late entry as it’s important to the story to build tensions.

Who’s the MC

The MC, gender customisable of course, is still a recent graduate with a degree in chemistry and a passion for science. They do not, however, go to Dalton Enterprise to get a Job as a Nanny, no, they are on their way to interview for an illustrious internship!

The Story

The story starts of the same. MC has a sexy dream about their (hopefully) new boss, however you get dialogue options to feel very weirded out by that. Not only is that your future boss, they are also happily married as the gossip magazine you browsed the night before suggests. Sam and their wife are a business power couple (think the Beckhams or BrAngelina rip) and get an insane amount of media coverage.

It comes to MCs attention that they’ve overslept and rush to Dalton Enterprise. A receptionist tell them that they are too late and the position is already taken. Enter Sam and Intern LI who worships the ground Sam walks on and thanks them profoundly for this once in a lifetime opportunity. Sam notices MC and asks if they are the no show, Intern LI takes a light jab at their tardiness; you get the option to flirt with them. (Intern LI is basically something like Jaylen from Platinum or Aurora from OH, but done right and a LI. Rivals to lovers? We love to see it!) Sam asks if MC is still interested in an interview because they might have a position in mind for them.

The interview is beyond weird with Sam asking for the MC’s thoughts on children, about their living situation etc. Eventually you get to call them out on that and they confess that they only have company funds for one intern and even though the MCs application was a standout and their personal favourite, they can’t hire them. That’s where they propose a compromise: MC becomes their Nanny, as they are in need of one due to recent changes in their personal life, and they get to pay them out of their own pocket. The MC gets the opportunity to work at Dalton Enterprise on the days she doesn’t have to watch the kids.

As you accept you wonder why that is, but don’t dare to question them further as you don’t want to seem ungrateful. That night you come by the apartment to meet the boys, who in this version are a bit more weary of you, but you bond over a chemistry experiment. After they are put to bed you get to the office scene with Sam. You ask when you’ll meet their wife and that’s where you find out what’s really going on here. Sam and their wife are having troubles, severe enough that she packed up and moved out a few months ago. They are trying to work things out but it looks bad. Not only is their personal life affected by this, their relationship is a huge part of their respective public image and even just saying the word divorce out loud makes them see Dalton’s numbers drop into the red. They still keep up appearances, stayed on good terms for the twins but this is just a partnership of convenience by this point and secretly they’re both sick of it. They got married straight out of college, had the twins by their mid-twenties and are approaching their tenth wedding anniversary, the spark’s gone and they crave something new and exciting but are too scared to move on from the known.

Character Arcs

1. Sam: They are a huge science nerd at heart, they never held big business ambitions and are mostly in it to help improve people’s quality of life. If it were up to them they’d slave away in a lab, happily isolated from the stress of public relations. Years of training went into their suave persona, but deep down they are still an insecure dork. Sam is struggling to adapt to the changes in their life and can’t bring themselves to take that leap of faith and start a new chapter. Their arc would include cutting back at work and focusing on the things they’re passionate about like lab work and spending more time with the twins. With a romanced MC their story would be loaded with tensions of Sam clinging to the past. MC feels like the unfavourable side-piece as long as Sam keeps the facade of their marriage up and the constant threat of their relationship becoming public lingers over everything. In addition there’s the question of Sam’s true motives. Is this just a convenient rebound or more?

2. The Twins: Mason and Mickey have a hard time dealing with their parents’ separation. Their pranks are more channelled into “parent trapping” them into getting back together. They don’t really understand their parents separation of public and private life and are mostly confused by how hot and cold they are with each other. After their initial scepticism towards MC they see them as a confidant with their problems. MC gets to champion for the twins needs and force Sam and their wife to see how much their behaviour is hurting their kids.

3. Robin: Robin’s been living in Sam’s shadow for all their life and they are so sick of it. Everything they have feels like a constant fight, every snippet of appreciation or recognition is earned through blood, sweat and tears and still not good enough to measure up to their older sibling. They built this careful ‘I don’t care’ façade and have kept it up for all their life. That is until they meet MC. They bond pretty quickly over their struggles to reach unreachable expectations and find a close confidante in one another. Depending on the players choices this will be a friendship or a romance. As Sam’s arc comes to a close with them cutting back at work Robin finally gets to step up and do what they always wanted. They are quick-witted, extroverted, business savvy and well connected. Unrecognised by their father they’ve been the better candidate for the position Sam was in all along.

4. Intern LI: From the get go they aren’t a big fan of the MC. In their eyes, they’ve worked for all the life to get where they are now and feel like the MC was just handed their position. MC and Intern are aware that they are basically two people working a one-person job and are both trying to be the best at it. You get the option to play into this rivalry or make it a team effort. Getting closer you find out that your background isn’t so different after all and that it’s silly to try and hold the other one back. Their love language is still very teasing and snippy but never without an affectionate smile and rare but genuine compliments will come later in the friendship/relationship. A big setback is when they find out that you are living with Sam and they far that that’s an inevitable unfair advantage for you, which it is, but they learn to trust their abilities more than others connections.

5. Sam’s Wife: You’ll first meet her maybe five or six chapters in. Up until then she’s build up to be this perfect, idealised, flawless being. She’s supposedly fearless, fought to be in the position she’s in now, a self-made woman who turns everything she touches into pure gold. As you meet her you are more than intimidated but she’s just pleasant to be around! A ray of sunshine, positive to the bone. You get the option to ask about her and Sam and she sadly has to admit that sometimes people just fall out of love. She tells MC that she needs Sam to move on, so she can move on and nudges them into their direction. Her romance heavily focuses on her fear of leaving Sam behind in her progress but she can’t help her feeling. Her arc in general focuses on recognising Sam and herself as individuals and not two parts of a whole.

This is crazy long already, but just some major events the story would cover:

A company picnic

The ten-year wedding anniversary

A Dalton Enterprise charity gala

Telling Sam’s parents about their future

Insides on the work at Dalton

Time with the twins

Sorry for the long post, thanks for reading this far!

#playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #The Nanny Affair #choices tna #tna

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captainscanadian · 5 years ago

Text

Exception | Carter Baizen x Reader (Part 1)

My Masterlist

Prologue

Summary: After fifteen years of being away from the Upper East Side, you return to your home in hopes of making amends with your loved ones. But unbeknownst to you, the past that you had chosen to run away from was about to start haunting you. You had no choice but to face it. You could not run or hide away from it any longer.

Word Count: 7100+

Pairing: CEO!Carter x Lawyer!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Gossip Girl References, Heart Attack, Mentions of Death, Capitalism (I HAD TO!)

A/N: As you all know by now, this is my entry for @baezen‘s writing challenge. I am super excited to be posting the first part because this is going to be quite an intense emotional roller coaster for everyone. I would like to dedicate this one to Her Majesty, the Queen of Carter Baizen, because if it wasn’t for her, I never would have convinced myself to write this fic. I love you, Steph! Tag list is open, just send in an ask to be tagged. Love you all! <3

June 14, 2020

According to Dan Humphrey, the Upper East Side was like something from Fitzgerald or Thackeray. Not that you would ever consider the perspective of an outsider trying to get in when looking to describe your own home. You felt that your own experiences of growing up here would be more than enough if there ever was a need to describe life in the Upper East Side. The Upper East Side of Manhattan, as much as you hated it for its opulent wealth and snobbish residents, it had always had a special place in your heart. It was your home.

Being born into an affluent family that belonged to Manhattan’s elite was not something that you had asked for. But you had been born and raised in the Upper East Side, with a silver spoon in your hand and a trust fund under your name. It had been your birthright to be a part of this world; a birthright that you had chosen to leave behind fifteen years ago. Not that you had a choice in that matter either. Leaving New York City had not been a choice that you had willing made. Hell, you did not even know that you would not be returning to the city when you had first left. The circumstances at the time had made it impossible for you to do anything else but run away and never look back. You never looked back, no. Not until now. Sometimes, you just had to be forced into returning to the past that still haunted you to this day. Fate was just so fucked up like that, making you leave involuntarily and now making you come back, also involuntarily.

As the pilot made the final announcement that you would be landing in New York momentarily, you leaned over in your seat to stare out the tiny window. The city that you had left behind all those years ago with your hopes and dreams that had been crushed soon after you had left; in an instant, your entire life had turned upside down. The next thing you knew, you had fled the life of the Upper East Side for good.

This city had waited long enough to see your return. As you flew above the sky, inching closer to the ground, your eyes glazed over with salty tears. They pricked at the brim of your eyelids before they rolled down, your heart breaking as you finally came to terms with the day you had left. Young and barely exposed to the real world; spoiled and stupid you had been. You had no idea back then, that your life was about to change so drastically just days later. But look at you now, you were finally home.

Once you had landed, you stretched your bare feet, hearing you ankles crack as you let out a yawn. You made a mental note to book an appointment for a pedicure sometime, not that the reason for your trip was to revel in the luxuries that you had left behind immediately after you arrived. No, if you had your way, you would not even be here right now. You were left with no choice but to return after that scare you had received a few days ago. You could not stay away for so long. Fifteen years were more than enough.

Your Louboutin heels clicked as you descended from the Y/L/N Industries’ private jet, your eyes darting towards the familiar man who stood by the limousine to greet you. Your lips curled into a smile as you recognized him in an instant. How could you forget that man? “Walter!” You exclaimed, for your heart swelled at seeing your old friend. He looked a lot more seasoned than the last time you had seen him; quite literally, his hair looked as though it had been sprinkled even with salt and pepper. He wore a pair of rimless spectacles now, his eyes probably blinding with age. But he was still the same man otherwise, still your personal chauffeur and the first best friend you ever had.

“Welcome home, Miss. Y/L/N.” His voice cracked as he greeted you and in a moment, he held out his arms to wrap you up in an embrace. “You’ve grown so much.”

You choked back your tears as you returned his hug, taking in his scent as you shut your eyes for a moment. “It’s good to be home.” You admitted, pulling back from the hug to fondly tap his nose. It had been a habit of yours ever since you were a little girl. “You’ve grown so much too, Walter.”

“It’s good to have you back, sweetheart.”

You nodded as you watched him grab your luggage and load it into the limo. “Walter, how is he?” You asked the man as you crossed your arms against your chest, pressing your lips shut as you inhaled a sharp breath of New York’s fresh air. You were home now, but you were worried sick nevertheless. There was a reason behind your return.

“The doctors discharged him this morning.” He replied, sighing as he turned back to look at you. “He’s back home now. Would you like me to take you to see him first?”

You breathed out a sigh before shaking your head. “No, take me over to my mother’s place first. I’ve been on a plane for eight hours. I really need a shower and then... I’ll see him when I’m ready.” You told him with a frown. Truth be told, even though you had finally returned to New York, you were still not ready to face the mistakes of your pasts just yet. You knew you had to come to terms with them somehow, the sooner you did the better it would be for the duration of your stay here. But you could not help it. Your guilt had been eating you away for years now.

The limo ride from the airport to your mother’s penthouse had been rather quiet. You could not stare intently into the streets of New York City through the tainted windows no matter how hard you tried. You could not get a glimpse of the world you had left behind. Perhaps, that was a good thing. Otherwise, your anxious mind would have tried to convince Walter to take you right back to the airport and you would have flown straight back to London with no further explanation.

While you had deemed that your life in the Upper East Side was complicated, your childhood spent in this city had been wonderful. Despite the fact that your parents had divorced when you were merely a toddler, they had chosen to put their differences aside when it came to raising you. Their split was amicable nevertheless and they remained good friends even today. Your father is the CEO of Y/L/N Industries. Your mother, a British heiress and a distant relative of the van der Bilt family, you had always been showered with the love that came from family, along with the wealth that you would inherently inherit. Your parents had done their best, but you had been the one to ruin the life that they had given you. It was all on you.

The moment you arrived at your mother’s penthouse apartment, you were greeted by your beloved maid and former nanny, Annalise. The woman had been working in your childhood home for as long as you could remember. Even after you had left town, she had been the one to update you on how things had been going on in New York. She had helped you keep tabs on your parents. “Miss Y/N!” She exclaimed as you stepped out of the elevator, tackling you with a tight hug that you had grown to miss so much over the last fifteen years.

“Annalise...” Your eyes glazed over once more and you found yourself choking back your tears again. “Oh how I missed you.” You admitted, sighing as you pulled back from the hug. “We have a lot to talk about. But first, where is my mother?” You looked around the familiar home as you entered through the foyer, heading towards the living room to hear your mother’s chatter coming from down the hall.

“Your mother’s in the dining hall. She’s been on the phone with her cousin since she woke up this morning. I would suggest that you save her from that hell.” The maid informed you before she grabbed the cart that held your suitcases up to your bedroom.

You chuckled softly before giving her a nod. “Thank you, Annalise.”

“Anne, I hate to be the one to tell you what to do. It’s his wedding and none of this is your call to make.” Your mother spoke intently on the phone, rolling her eyes as the other woman before she looked up at you. “I would suggest that you back off and just let them do their thing. They’re not kids anymore.”

You chuckled softly, biting down on your lip so that the woman who was ranting to your mother could not hear you through the speaker phone. Despite the fact that Anne Archibald was a distant cousin of your mother’s, no one in the family could stand her. After the drug scandal that landed her husband in prison and William Van der Bilt had managed to cut her off, your mother had been the only one who still spoke to her, much to your insistence. You walked around the table to pull your mother into a hug from behind, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“Alright Anne, I hear you but I should let you go. Y/N just got home and... I’ll be busy for the next couple of days.” Your mother was relieved to finally say goodbye to her cousin, for the woman had always been a talkative soul who had no sense of time whatsoever. “Yes, of course, I will see you at the wedding.”

You pulled back from the hug before letting out a laugh. “When were you going to tell me that Nate was getting married?” You asked her as you sat down on the chair next to hers, reaching for a pastry that had been laid out on the table and popping it in your mouth.

“Even if I did tell you, would it have been reason enough to get you back here?” Your mother asked, teasingly. “I would have told you if I could, baby. But the whole wedding planning has been kept a secret and I didn’t know if you would be interested in finding out that your beloved little Nate’s getting married anyways. I assumed he would have told you, since you two do talk... right?”

“Mom...” You sighed. “Nate’s the closest thing I’ve had to a brother and if he wanted me at his wedding, I would have certainly made the effort to be there. I haven’t spoken to him recently though. The last time we spoke, I tried to talk him out of running for mayor and that did not end well. I did’nt think it was best to call him up and gloat when he lost the election.”

“Y/N, that was over two years ago.”

“I know, I know... I... I might go down and see him while I’m in town, you know... though I’m not sure if he would want me at his wedding.” You agreed with a shrug.

Your mother nodded. “How was your flight?”

“Good.” You replied as you swallowed the last bite of your pastry.

“And how do you feel now that you’re back here...?” She asked you, biting down on her bottom lip as she picked up her steaming cup and sipped her Earl Grey. When you had made the decision to never return to New York, your mother had been the one who had offered you her estate in London for you to stay in. While she had been disappointed in the way you had handled things, she had stood by every other decision you had made since then. Your mother was the rock of your life; she had always been.

“I don’t know.” You admitted, looking down at your hands as your mind wandered to that dreadful night once more. “I... it doesn’t feel like home anymore, but it’s only a matter of time until it does. I just... I don’t want to think about any of that.”

Your mother nodded, understandingly. “Have you been down to see your father yet?”

“No, not yet.” You replied. “I wanted to come down here and see you first. I... I don’t know what to expect when I see him, you know... I feel like a failed him sometimes. Mom, I crushed all of those plans that he had for my future by... running off and doing my own thing for all these years. I don’t want him to think that I abandoned him, when... I didn’t... that was not my intention when I left, mom. But it sure as hell seems like it now, doesn’t it?” You knew that you had to face him at some point. You had to face your past and your mistakes. You had to make amends with your loved ones. You had been gone for long enough and things had changed. Perhaps, it was time for you to let go of everything and move forward, seek redemption. You needed redemption as much as anyone else who had left behind their life on the Upper East Side.

Eight hours on a private jet had certainly not had any physiological effects on you. You found that having a few glasses of champagne during takeoff had pretty much knocked you out for the remainder of the ride. You had slept plenty and you were ready to ensure that the jet lag did not get the worst of you. New York was only five hours behind London anyways; it would not be so bad.

A cold shower had certainly done its job in keeping you awake. You found yourself strutting around your familiar childhood bedroom, wandering through the suite in reminiscence of your old life within these walls. Your mother had certainly had her touch in changing up the decoration of your bedroom in hopes that one day you would return. As the only one in your immediate family to have frequently visited your home in London, she was certainly familiar with your preferences in interior decoration. She had ensured that your childhood home would still feel like home when you came back.

A knock on your door made you fall back on your bed, staring up at the familiar ceiling as you let out a sigh. “Come in!” You called and Annalise entered with a cart of pastries and tea for your breakfast.

“Walter’s waiting outside, Miss Y/N. He said that he can drive you over to your father’s when you’re ready.” She told you as she set the cart next to your bed. “You’re still not dressed? I’ve already unpacked your clothes. They’re all in your closet.”

You let out a sigh as you sat up. “You want to pick me out an outfit like the old times, Annalise?” You asked her as your lips curled into a small smile. “Please...”

You watched as her eyes grew wide and she beamed down at you. “Of course, Miss Y/N, I would love to. Of course!”

“Thank you.” As you stood up from your bed, you reached for another pastry and took a bite of it. “Hey Annalise, can I ask you for a favor?” You asked her as you followed her into your walk-in closet. It was filled with all of the latest collections of designer clothes, despite the fact that your childhood bedroom had not been inhabited by anyone in fifteen years. Your mother had stocked up your closet in light of your arrival and you did not think you were even deserving of that kind of love. Needless to say, you had hurt both of your parents by what you had done fifteen years ago. “Do you happen to know how to get an appointment with the Editor-in-Chief of the New York Spectator?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Your maid replied as spun around to face you. She had picked out a Louis Vuitton dress for you to wear, a matching pair of Prada shoes in her hands. “I can call their office and book you an appointment with him for this afternoon.”

“This afternoon? Isn’t that short notice?” You asked her with your eyebrow raised. “I’m sure the man’s quite busy, Annalise. I don’t want to make his day any worse.”

“First of all, have you forgotten what I’m capable of?” She asked you as she handed you the dress. “Second of all, he’s your little cousin, isn’t he? I’m sure he’d push back whatever the hell he has scheduled for today the moment he hears that you want to see him. I’d say he’d be running over here the moment he hears that you’re back in town. Believe me; no one keeps my dear Miss Y/N waiting for them. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’re a real one, Annalise.”

Even if the limo ride to your father’s apartment was ten whole minutes long, it had been a rather awkward one for obvious reasons. Walter had made sure to turn down the music, as he was aware how sensitive it must be. He knew how you must be feeling at that moment. Fifteen years it had been since you had last seen your father, not that you did not want to. But from the moment you had run off to live in your mother’s estate in London, he had resented you. He was disappointed in you. He could not forgive you for the way you had let your life turn upside down in an instant. You had walked away, not from your life in the Upper East Side alone, but also from your family’s legacy that you were meant to carry on after him. You had left him and his company and he had never forgiven you for it.

Your mother had been the one to call you a week ago. You had just gotten out of a meeting to see fifteen missed calls from her. She was not one to call you like that. She would always text you before to make sure you were not busy. However, seeing as many missed calls from her as you did, you began to worry.

When you had called her back, she had informed you of how your father had suffered a heart attack. It was not a complete surprise to you, for you were aware that he had high blood pressure for a while now. You even knew that you were a source of that, unfortunately.

Once your mother had mentioned that the doctors had to do a minimally invasive surgery to fix a blockage in his heart, you had begun contemplating whether you should fly down to New York in an instant. Your mother had told you that you had nothing to worry about; your father was fine and he probably would not want to see you, being as stubborn as he had always been. But you, you could not stay away from him any longer.

You had lasted fifteen whole years without him. You wanted to see him. You wanted to apologize. You wanted to make amends, because you were terrified that he might not be here for much longer. Unbeknownst to you, it was partially true. He might not be here for much longer, but he wanted to see you either way.

“Your mother did mention that you were coming back.” Your father mumbled as he saw you enter his bedroom. “I told her I would believe her when I actually saw you in the flesh.”

You looked over at the nurse who stood by his bedside, motioning her to leave the room before you walked up to your father. “I couldn’t stay away forever; you know... not when you almost died.” You admitted as you sat down at the edge of his bed, a sigh of guilt escaping your chapped lips as you reached for his cold hand. “I know I’ve been a fucking disappointment to you, but thanks for not actually dying on me, Pop.” You could feel your heart beating right out of your chest as the tears began to slip. “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you weren’t sitting in front of me right now.”

Your father took your hand in his. “Y/N, sweetheart...” He frowned, wincing slightly as he reached over to you. “Honey, you... you’re not a disappointment. You were never a disappointment. You... you’ve made mistakes but... don’t we all? I’m sure your mother and I are no strangers to the effects of being young and impulsive. As much as I resented the fact that you had committed those mistakes, you’ve... you’ve only ever... you did not let any of that destroy you. If anything, it made you stronger... resilient. You’ve built a whole life for yourself, Y/N, and that too... without my help. You chose to do that and as much as I would have loved to have had you take on after me, to take the company from me, I know I raised a self-made woman and I’m proud of that. I may be a little disappointed that you did not need me after a while... but... I’m proud of you for not letting all that shit destroy your spirit.”

You choked on a sob as you pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry, Pop. I’m sorry I fucked up. I’m sorry I was young and dumb and didn’t know what else to do than... run away from you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean any of it.”

He wrapped his arms gently around you as he rubbed your back, trying to calm you down. He knew damn well that he had given you quite a scare last week. He had heard from your mother of how much you had freaked out when you had heard what had happened to him. Knowing that his daughter cared that much about him was more than enough for him, but being able to hold you in his arms like he had done all those years ago, that was his redemption.

“I know, sweetheart. I know... it wasn’t your fault. I should have been there a lot more for you when your mother wasn’t around. I should have watched over you as I had promised her that I would. I didn’t do that. I was so caught up on my own quest of finding the love of my life that I fucked up. It was partly my fault and you had every reason to find comfort in your mother at a time like that. But... I wouldn’t call it a mistake, when you’ve turned it all around into the best things you could have ever done. It’s been fifteen years and it’s about time we all moved on. It’s time we all became one big family again.”

“If that’s what you want, then your wish is my command.” You admitted, pulling back from the hug to give him a warm smile. “I might need to make some calls but I’ll see what I can do. But I’m not going anywhere for now. I’ll be here for as long as you need me.”

“Well, that reminds me... my doctors told me not to think about work and I left your mother in charge of the company while I’m gone.” He informed you, frowning as he looked down. “But I have something I need from you. I know that you’ve been clear about not wanting to take the company from me and I wouldn’t blame you for... not wanting that. Look at what the stress of running that company has done to me; it’s put me in a hospital. But it was always meant to be you and... I want it to be you. I want you to take care of something for me while you’re in town.”

“Mom told me that you were stressed with work and that’s why you... what’s going on, Pop? What’s bothering you?” You knew more than ever that your father’s business meant everything to him.

Your grandfather had built Y/L/N Industries from dust to dynasty. For decades, the company had been dominating the food product industry as a leading brand. But due to the loss of a recent lawsuit regarding contamination in one of your factories, something that your father had not been in control of, the company had begun to struggle.

You had done your best to keep up with the news regarding the court case, aware that your father was certainly struggling with the bad press and the debt that followed the lawsuit. No wonder the stress had driven him to have a heart attack. “I’ll do anything you need me to. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

“As you know, the company’s in a lot of debt.” Your father informed you with a sigh, certainly guilty about the way in which he had handled that whole thing. A part of him was well aware that it was his arrogance that had led to his demise. But what made him feel worse was the proposed solution to his dilemma. “And I am now in a position to sell a majority of the shares of the company to one of our competitors in order to keep us running. It’s not a choice that I would have made. But the CEO of the next leading brand has offered to... buy the entire thing from us and save us from this debt. Millions of people might lose their jobs otherwise. But this also means that Y/L/N industries would no longer be Y/L/N industries. What made us... us... is the fact that we kept the thing going for all these years because it stayed within the family, the family name and the legacy. It was all that your grandfather had ever wanted, Y/N. I can’t get myself to just... sell it off. By selling his company, I would be letting go of our family’s legacy and... As much as it is financially necessary, I don’t agree with it.”

“So, what do you need me to do, Pop?”

“Well, I want you to... I would be honored if you could offer your time to... take over from your mother and be the interim CEO of Y/L/N Industries while I remain in bed rest.” Your father replied. “Y/N, you’ve shown me that you are more than capable of running your own firm. You’re one of the best corporate lawyers London’s ever seen. Take a seat at the table and try to find a way to not let our legacy be taken away from us. Make sure that we find a way out of our debt without losing the family name.”

You did not think twice about your father’s request, for you knew that this was not only what had always been expected of you. It was also what you were meant to do. It was your legacy as much as it was anyone else’s. “You have my word, Pop.”

By the time you had left your father’s apartment, you were determined to find out what was going on with Y/L/N Industries at the moment. While you had been out of touch with the recent events, you had a corporate brain nevertheless. Corporate companies across the pond feared you, for they saw you as a vulture when it came to settling disputes. Mergers were your strong suit.

Your father’s inability to ask you to represent him in court may have led to this dilemma, but he had asked you to clean up his mess on his behalf. You were going to do just that, do what you had always done best.

Whoever the guy who offered to buy your dad’s company from him may be, he was going to make one hell of a run for it now that you were taking matters into your own hands. The prodigal daughter returns.

Annalise had called you to let you know that she had managed to book you an appointment with Nate Archibald. Not that you would ever need one to see him, as she had pointed out that morning. But things had changed between the two of you in recent years.

After he had informed you that he was running for mayor, you had tried to talk him out of it. Although you hailed from a family of politicians, you could not see him in any position of power. Nate had too good a soul to be engaging in the brutality that was politics and you had tried to protect him from that, as the honorary big sister that you had always been to him.

Unfortunately, this had led to a drift within your relationship. While Nate had lost his mayoral race and learned his lesson, you two were not on speaking terms. The next thing you knew, he had not even mentioned that he was getting married and you had to find that out from your mother, unwillingly. You were surely going to give him a piece of your mind for keeping that from you.

Walking into the office of the New York Spectator seemed surreal. You remembered when you had heard that a woman named Diana Payne had initially created this daily newspaper as an attempt to dethrone Gossip Girl.

A grown woman starting a news website to compete with a teenage gossip sharing site seemed like the most stupid thing to do, at least until William van der Bilt had purchased it and sat his grandson on the head of the table.

That seemed like a bold move on his part. Nate had clearly turned the Spectator around into a major news outlet in the country over the last decade. If it was not for him, you could not have been able to keep up with everything that had been going on in the Upper East Side.

As you followed the anxious receptionist who seemed extremely intimidated by your appearance the moment you had introduced yourself, thanks to whatever strings Annalise had pulled to get her to schedule you into Nate’s busy day, you could not believe how well he had done for himself. You had not seen him in person since he had vacationed in Europe after he had graduated high school. But that seemed forever ago now. Your little boy was all grown up now.

“Miss. Y/L/N for you, Mr. Archibald.” The woman entered his office with a knock.

You gave her a nod before you followed her into his office, giving the woman a moment to walk out and close the door behind her. “Mayor Archibald.” You teased your younger cousin as you walked up to his desk, a mocking tone in your voice before you snickered.

Nate gave you a wide eyed look of disbelief, unable to comprehend the fact that you were standing right there before him, in his New York office out of all places. If anything, he knew how much you despised being in New York and he knew why you had chosen not to return for all these years.

He never would have thought that you would ever return to America, let alone to your not-so-humble home of the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Yet there you were, in the flesh, he was surely surprised to see you. But a part of him was slightly terrified, for he wondered what might be the reason behind your visit. He could only hope that your arrival had not been accompanied by any of your unfinished business.

“When my assistant told me that she got a call about a certain Y/N Y/L/N wanting to see me, I thought it was some prank call.” He admitted as he stood up from his desk and walked around to greet you. “It’s good to see you, Y/N.”

“Well, you know Annalise. She can be a little... aggressive, for the lack of a better word.” You admitted with a chuckle before pulling him into a hug. “Wow, you’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you.”

It was true, he really had. Nate Archibald was a grown man now, but you had always seen him as that four year old boy who used to bug you at van der Bilt family reunions. He was your little brother from another mother, the closest thing you had to a sibling. He was the only one in the Upper East Side aside from your immediate family who knew where you had been for all these years and why you had left in the first place. He knew everything.

“So have you, mom.” He teased back as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “How have you been though? How’s London? How are you? How’s Carter?”

“Good. I’ve been doing great, you know... running my own corporate law firm in London and teaching at Cambridge part-time. It’s great.” You told him with a bright smile, holding onto him a little longer as you recalled everything that the two of you had been through in the last fifteen years.

You did not know why you had chosen to trust him with your deepest, darkest secret before you had left town. But you had done the right thing by putting that trust in him. He had kept your secret with him for fifteen whole years now and not a single soul in the Upper East Side would know the real reason why you had left in a sudden or where you had been for all these years. You never would have wanted that.

“Man, I can’t believe you’re still here. It’s so good to see you after all these years.” He admitted, grinning widely. “I wish your mother would have told me beforehand that you were coming back to New York.”

“Well, I wish she would have told me that you were getting married, but that just makes us even, doesn’t it?” You pulled back from the hug. “

“You’re getting married and you didn’t think to tell me? I had to catch my mom on the phone with yours to know this? Really? Nate, I know that we haven’t been on speaking terms lately but the least I would have expected from you was for you to have called me to tell me that you were getting married. How could you have kept that from me? I thought we were friends. We’re family, for crying out loud! Just because we’re fifth cousins or whatever, that does not give you any right to keep me out of such important moments in your life.” You hit him playfully on the chest.

“What? Are you still so pissed at me about me giving you unsolicited advice regarding you running for mayor that you didn’t want me at your wedding? Is that what it is? Are you holding grudges now? Is that what I taught you, little bro? I thought you were so much better than that!” You crossed your arms against your chest as you stared at him with disbelief, expecting an answer but getting nothing in return.

Nate was visibly nervous as you brought up his wedding and he looked down at his feet, letting out a sigh of disappointment in himself for keeping the events of his love life from you for as long as he had. “Well, that was... certainly not my intention.” He admitted, looking up to meet your eyes but only to look back down again. He had never been able to lie to your face and he was not planning on doing that now.

“I just didn’t think you’d show up, to be honest, even if I told you about it. I know how you feel about coming back to New York and I didn’t want to be the one to put you in that place. I didn’t want you to feel like you should... be there. You really don’t... but now that you’re here anyways, Y/N, I would love for you to be at my wedding. You’re a part of my family and I do want you there. I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to call you sooner. I should have... but I got so busy and my mom’s been causing a lot of drama with the wedding planning-”

“Oh so you say...” You cut him off with a chuckle. “She was bitching about it to my mom all morning until I walked in. Honestly, I’m not mad. I’ve kept away from all of the... celebrations in the Upper East Side for a while now. I had no choice in that matter, but... I’m trying to be more present in my own family matters nowadays so, why not start with my dear little cousin’s wedding?”

He bit down on his bottom lip with a nod. “Oh... yeah, for sure, I’m happy that you’re back. I’m sorry to hear about your father, by the way. I know it must have scared the crap out of you. I’m glad he’s okay... my mom told me that it was a close call.”

You gave him a nod. “Oh yeah, I... no wonder I’m back in New York in a heartbeat, am I right? I was so terrified to lose my old man that I hopped on a private jet and flew my ass down here, just like that.” You admitted with a chuckle. “He’s okay, he’s happy... I think he really did want me here so... it’s all good.”

“So, I take it you’ll be in New York for a while.” He noted.

You nodded. “Yeah, I got some things to take care of for my dad so I should be here until that gets sorted out.”

“And Carter?”

Across New York City in another sky rise building was the office of the CEO of Baizen Industries. As Carter Baizen got off the phone with one of his lawyers regarding their recent business endeavor, he heard the familiar clicking sound of a woman’s red bottom heels against the tiled floor. “Oh for fuck’s sake...” He muttered under his breath before rolling his eyes, clearly not in the mood to deal with her drama at that moment. “Not now, Caroline. I’m busy...”

“My mother-in-law is a monster.” Caroline Baizen groaned as she entered her brother’s office, not caring at all that her brother’s mind was rather preoccupied by his business at that moment. She clearly needed someone to keep her from going full-on Bridezilla and she knew Carter had the emotional maturity to keep her sane throughout the remainder of her wedding planning.

She sat down on the chair across from him, clearly exhausted from having to spend the entire day with the woman who had given birth to the love of her life. “She’s... my monster-in-law, to be fucking honest, trying to act all pretentious and dictating how to plan my fucking wedding. It’s my fucking wedding, Carter. I think I have all the right to decide if I wanted roses or tulips at my fucking wedding!”

Carter rolled his eyes once more as he closed his laptop and leaned forward, resting his hands on his desk as he let out a sigh. “Caroline, as much as I love you, I think you’re being irrational right now. I really don’t see a point in freaking out over the flowers at your wedding. You chose to marry Nate, so the fact that you’re going to be marrying him should be the only thing that matters.”

“Easy for you to say, Carter... the groom’s job in a wedding is to just show up and say his vows. You couldn’t even do that.” She retorted, rolling her eyes at her brother. “Nate loves me, but... he’s too soft-spoken. He won’t tell his mother to back off that easily.”

He shook his head as he recalled his own wedding a decade ago, which had eventually led to him being cut off by his father. To say that he had learned his lesson since then would be an understatement. “But he loves you, right? He loves you and he’s marrying you, which means he’s choosing to spend the rest of his life with you.” He reminded her. “Do you really think that if push came to shove, he wouldn’t choose your side over his mother? I don’t think starting a family drama over roses and tulips is worth it.”

“Yeah, he loves me. But what do you know about love and being married? You left Beth Buckley at the altar, for crying out loud.”

He did. He was no saint and his past was proof of that. But what most of his family or anyone else did not know about him was that Carter did indeed know what it meant to be in love. He understood what it meant to love someone, long before he had even left Beth Buckley at the altar. “I may or may not know more than you do, believe it or not.” He admitted as he recalled that early morning almost fifteen years ago.

As the two of you laid hand in hand in the back of the limo, barely clothed as the sun had finally risen over the Upper East Side of Manhattan, Carter Baizen looked over at you with his bloodshot blue eyes. His soft pink lips curled into a smile as he reached over to stroke the side of your cheek. “I love you, Y/N.”

You chuckled, sleepily as you laid your head against his shoulder. “You probably say that to almost every girl in the Upper East Side, you know, just to get them to sleep with you again.”

“But I mean it this time.”

“Oh really?” You asked him with your eyebrow raised at him. A part of you knew better than to put all of your faith in him. Carter Baizen had a reputation for being the bad boy, the heart breaker, the one who could never be trusted. The Constance girls called him an apocalypse and warned each other in the name of sisterhood to steer away from his gaze at all costs. But you had known Carter since you were very little. Your parents had been friends since long before the two of you had been born. You thought you knew who he really was, so you had no choice than to trust that version you knew. But it would have taken you less than twelve weeks to know how wrong you had been about that. It was too late now though. It was way too late now.

He nodded his head as he licked his lips. “You’re my one exception.”

#togwc #aj writes #exception #carter baizen x reader #carter baizen x you #carter baizen x y/n #carter baizen fanfic #carter baizen fic #carter baizen fanfiction #carter baizen fluff #carter baizen imagine #carter baizen series #carter baizen smut #gossip girl fic #gossip girl fanfic #gossip girl fanfiction #carter baizen owns my ass

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nofacenocaseblog · 4 years ago

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𝗗𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 #3: NARCOPISOS Inc. /Barcelona narcopisos, a necessary evil

The 3rd episode of Dope Stories is the most in-depth investigation of the series, so much that it took me nearly 3 years to gain the trust and respect of my contacts and more importantly, to get relevant insights about the local drug market and its players to show, under a different angle than mainstream media, what’s happening behind the closed doors of the Ciutat Veilla’s narrow streets.

Playground 1 - Raval, Barcelona / 2018 / iPhone

“Drugs are ruining our neighborhood! “, “Narcopisos are disrupting the real estate market!” , “ We don’t feel safe!”…

Those are the slogans or headlines you see in the media or written on banners hanging from people’s balconies.

“Narcopisos are filthy and dangerous!”

But are they though?

FOREWORD

Before getting started, I wanted to write a few words about Barcelona. After living more than a decade in New York, my wife and I moved to Catalan capital for about 4 years. After reading this article you might think that I m not particularly fond of the town and its inhabitants. I won’t lie, we didn’t receive the warmest welcome, especially from Catalans. This said, the town and its vibe are unique and galvanizing. Very much like Marseille (my hometown), Barcelona is an harbor city with the port/marina right in the center, meaning: lots of traffics, smuggling, immigration, corruption, drugs etc… There is always “something going on”, if you catch my drift. Shady, nasty, funny, ugly, beautiful, vulgar, the cast of “pirate-like” characters gravitating around the city center is fascinating.

Occupied - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / Nikon 3200

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always been drawn toward the forbidden, the danger, the illicit, the hidden, the bad... To my eyes, “ugly” has always been more interesting than “beautiful”. Barcelona is not a dangerous city but you need to keep your guard up: pick pockets roaming the subway, gypsies asking for money on La Rambla (the city’s most touristic avenue) while releasing your back pocket from your wallet, junkies selling stolen goods or begging for change for their next fix #nextfixandchill , black people selling fake airmax on the Barcelonetta marina, drunken street fights in the early hours of the morning... Tragicomic scenes are unravelling before your eyes in an surreal backdrop: Gaudi’s most beautiful “psychedelic” buildings (Sagrafa Familia, casa pedrera, Palau Guell...) in a jungle of gothic buildings ending on a fisherman village overseeing a beautiful beachfront promenade ending with the native “star’chitect” Bofill’s famous W...

Poolside - Barcelonetta, Barcelona / 2018 / iPhone

Ok, enough with the touristic tour, time to get real!

Stairway to Hell - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

Embark on a descend to the heroin inferno that became Raval. From the fields of Afghanistan to the bloodstreams of Spain...

La Ruta [Spanish for “the route”]

19,414 Pakistanis live in Barcelona, 6,600 of them are established in the neighborhood: El Raval (1) meaning more than 30% of the total community. El Raval has always been my favorite barrio in town. With 47% of immigrants (2) , the mosaic of faces, cultures and shops you encounter is dazzling . Going back to the Pakistani population, I used the word “established” for a specific reason: they actually own many of the businesses in Raval: barbershop, cheap bars and restaurants, wholesale shops, import/export businesses, money transfer services (Western Union, Moneygram), food and grocery shops... I’m not accusing here the Pakistani business owners of backing the drug traffic but they basically created a web of small businesses in a tight net community with their own language, making it hard for the authorities to see through this social fabric potentially sheltering illegal activities.

Why the Pakistani population is subject to speculation and doubt from the local authorities? The answer is simple: Afghanistan. Afghanistan is by far the biggest producer of opium in the world. According to the US military, 90% of the world's heroin is made from opium grown in Afghanistan. It makes up 95% of the market in Europe (3). The country has been the leader in opium poppy production since 2001. Based on the 2014 report from the UNODC (United Nation Office on Drugs and Crime), Afghanistan not only grow opium but also process heroin in several laboratory as well as morphine (easier to produce from raw opium by adding calcium oxide and ammonium chloride). From Afghanistan, several routes are used to smuggle their prime commodities: the Balkan route has been the primary route but things are changing and the Southern route has become more and more used. Afghanistan share 2,400km of border with Pakistan and over 50% of illicit afghan opiates are trafficked through Pakistan which enjoys a a strategic location making it a perfect dispatch zone with readily accessible by land, sea (Gwadar and Karachi seaport) and air ways .

The same UNODC report also indicates that the majority (37%) of the heroin seized in Pakistan was en-route for Europe..

*** Read and/or download the full report here ***

By the way, let’s not forget that Barcelona is also one of the Camorra’s stronghold. And with Russians and Albanian mafias also present on the territory, Spain -where no powerful local crime syndicate operates and laws on prostitution and gambling are “blurred” to say the least- has become one of organize crime’s favorite playgrounds for money laundering, drug smuggling, human trafficking, gambling and prostitution... Nothing really happens here without their “green light”, but that’s another story (5)

Back to our Southern route, once the product reaches Barcelona, it becomes very hard to pin point. Narcotics coming through the Balkan route also ends up in Barcelona but in different “retailers”’ hands: Romanian family-based clans, based mostly in Besos (a run-down project in the heart of Poblenou) and occupying one single narcopisos in Raval (they have moved 3 times over the 4-year period of my “investigation”) but known to have the purest and most processed Caballo sold in town.

El Caballo [Spanish for “the horse”, street name of heroin ]

[WARNING] Most of the photographs of this post are uncensored, quite graphic and… of poor quality…. my bad, I took them. But I had circumstances: hidden cellphone, no flash, illegal activities going on, indoor, with very little to no light… Shots are not the best (no pun intended) but you’ll step right into the infamous narcopisos you’ve heard of or read about. And not once they’ve been searched and trashed by the police like you’ve seen in the press but while they are in full operation. Raw, those images might be quite shocking to some of the readers, but take the emotion out of he equation and you’ll come to realized that, for lack a better choice, narcopisos are a necessary evil. My intention here is not to start a polemic nor come out as a provocateur but to shed light on a real issue, still happening, involving real people, slowly dying, failed by a syste unable -or unwilling- to help them.

Gears - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

El Raval

1989, US superstar Keith Harring is in Barcelona for his exhibition on La Rambla. After speaking with an old friend of him from New York living here for awhile, he decided to paint a mural, his way to to show his love for and connection with the town. The next day, Harring chose the wall in Plaça de Salvador Segui in Raval. He was warned that the area was one of the most dangerous areas in town. Back then, in the 80’s the Spanish government had the genius idea to decriminalize the use, but not the supply, of hard drugs and did not implement any proper treatments to sustain this measure... Spaniards have ignored the issue and it sparked a heroin addiction epidemic that saw HIV rates soar (2a).The artist was attracted to the neighborhood and decided it would offer the perfect canvas for his message about the dangers of drugs and AIDS. At first it was supposed to be a temporary mural but in the end, up to this day, you can still enjoy Harring’s mural behind the MACBA museum. Below is a photograph I took of what became now hot-spot for skateboarder and cool bars

Tricks - Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / Nikon 3200

Beside its bad reputation, Raval has always been a magnet for artists and “cool kids”, misfits and outcasts but more recently the new kid on the block is named gentrification… in other word: Fun is over. Well… not quite yet. In Barcelona, everything moves slowly, gentrification included. The result is a mix of fancy hotels, art galleries, designer boutiques... mixed with prostitutes and their lovely clientele, dealers, junkies, businessmen, families of tourists wandering the streets… a fascinating mix of characters with theatrical scenes playing before your eyes: hustlers trying to rip off tourists, white collars finding themselves buying bad cocaine from a kid in a narrow, sketchy alley… the show is in the street, but not only.

The Narrows - Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / Nikon 3200

What businesses, in Barcelona, are open 24/7, have no vacancy, a steady stream of customers and a product that sells itself? The answer: Narcopisos Inc.

The phenomenon of the Narcopisos emerged in 2016 (a year after I moved to Barcelona) following Spain’s property crash. Foreclosed or unsold apartments, owned by banks and investment funds were left emptied, abandoned, in a country in full housing crisis... It wasn’t long before the vacant spaces started being squatted: some by respectable families, in need of a place to live, some by drug dealers using them as selling point and shooting gallery. A place where you can get a cheap fix in a relatively clean room.

Ritual - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

Helped - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

Thanks to my various contacts, I had access to different types of narcopisos, but from crack to dope houses, most of them were operating the same way: - a cctv video surveillance in place at the street level or someone looking out for the cops. - a room with junkies to confuse police upon arrival and make it look like they are actually squatting the place - 1 to 3 dealers serving customers one a the time. - An exit back door (if available) in case the police knocks on the front door. - One or two rooms for users. - Hourly cleaning of the premises to make the place look “decent” and “squatted” in case of a bust - Little quantity of drugs at the time, no more than 10 grams of each. - Open 24/7 - Re-up every hour or so - Single use paraphernalia available to the users - In some cases, Narcan at hand (medicine used to reverse the effect of an OD).

Cleaning Session - Career d’en Road 22, Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / iPhone

My connections in the Pakistani community took time to build but strengthen throughout the years to reached a level of trust where we came to split the bread at several occasions… no seriously, we actually got invited in their Halal “canteen” in Raval where only Pakistanis could enjoy their local cuisine, a unique experience… They also gave me access to two of their stash houses: located in legit apartments, in proper buildings, on the outskirt of Raval, close to Sant-Antoni, less prone to police check. No users there, only wholesalers, dispatching heroin to “representatives” of each narcopisos at below retail-price: between 20 and 40 euros the gram depending on the quantity purchased.

Going back to the narcopisos, some were run by junkies (where the product was often cut from the bash they were getting from the stash houses), some by pakistani or afghan immigrants, with decent quality product, some by Catalan families, living there for decades under stabilized rent and with their own connection and product of fluctuant quality. Last but not least, one narcopiso was occupied by the Romanian clan mentioned earlier. Below are some photos of one of their spot at 22 Carrer d’en Roig, later busted and walled by the Mossos d’esquadra (Catalan police)

Romanian at work - Career d’en Road 22, Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / iPhone

Boss - Career d’en Road 22, Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / iPhone

If narcopisos was selling both crack and heroin, two rooms were at the disposal of users, one for smoking their bottles or pipes and the other room to shoot up or smoke heroin on tiny pieces of foil.

Sterile hospital-like garbage disposal were available for discarding the used paraphernalia.

Bloodstream Hunt - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

#NextFixandChill - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

Everything is provided to avoid the spread of disease and the use of the drug in plain sight in the street therefore reduce public disorder.

Not that dealers became humanitarian all of a sudden, but kicking customers with their (illegal) purchase out in the street expose them to being ratted on or worst, having an overdose in plain sight attracting the police and paramedics... either way, it’s not good for business so narcopisos’ “managers” rather keep their clientele indoor until they’re done using and good to do.

Now, there is another type of business in Barcelona dealing with drug users and addiction: it’s called Centre de Dispensació de Metadona - Centre d'Atenció Primària Casc Antic (the methadone clinic in short....).

* They’re not open 24/7 but rather in the morning only * It can take up to 2 weeks to see a doctor in order to enroll in a Methadone Maintenance Treatment -MMT (true story...when a single day can be the last one for a heroin addict living in the street) * Last but not least, since the doctors and nurses’ work schedule is way more important tthan their patients’ care, some centers give up 3 to 4 days worth of supply of methadone at once to heroin users so the health workers can have their days and weekends off. The result of this amazing system: the methadone is sold in the street by users so they can buy their heroin and/or in certain case, the methadone is saved up (for rainy days) and the patient keeps using heroin instead. Yes, the patient: let’s not forget that those “filthy junkies” actually are patients (even if they’re hardly seen as such in those centers), suffering from a disease called addiction, or substance abuse disorder if you prefer the american way of calling it, and in need of medical care but what can I say... old habits die hard (both way...).

Patients taking methadone to treat opioid dependance must receive the medication under the supervision of a practitioner. After a period of stability (based on progress and proven, consistent compliance with the medication dosage) and only then, patients may be allowed to take methadone at home between program visits... but not in Barcelona.

Methadone substitution as a treatment of opioid addiction does not function as much to curb addiction as to redirect it and maintain dependency on legal channels. Methadone has been designed that way, as a lifetime treatment whereas alternative palliatives such as Buprenorphine are not even considered by doctors when those therapies would be more efficient in certain cases: with users who do not shoot the drug for example, or with users wishing to quiet and get sober... but let's be honest here, sobriety has never been the objective of those methadone programs. The real goal of this public service is not to cure addiction, but to make sure junkies don’t use, steal, rob and/or commit act of violence in the streets to feed their habits

The patient here is not the users but the society. Those centers aren’t trying to help the user quit his habit, but to make sure the society doesn’t suffer from it. Good or bad, Narcopisos are curbing down the spread of diseases, cleaning up the streets from users as they offering temporary shelter to their customers and operate around the clock.. It seems to me that their function is almost... complementary if not necessary.

So before eradicating narcopisos from the face of Raval, let’s pause and look at the alternative: junkies buying and using drugs in the streets of the city center, in the worst sanitary condition possible with no regard for the residents around.

Mañana

So what’s next? Keeping those illegal activities going on? Certainly not.

But before jumping the gun and closing it all at once, better get ready for the alternative because drug addiction will not disappear with the narcopisos. In my last article, I speak about users stigmatization and how society still struggles to see addiction as a disease and not a will power issue, turning the blind eye to a sheer amount of studies and discoveries explaining how heroin addiction, over time, modify the pathway of your brain frontal lobe and affect your decisional power, making it hard -to not say impossible- to say “no”.

Don’t take me wrong. It would be naïve to think all users roaming the streets are here trying to quit and become their better self. Most of them have no intention to do so. I’m not here to judge nor take side. But in order to find a solution to the narcopiso situation, I would like to introduce Barcelona to his neighbor: Portugal.

Portugal had one of the worst heroin epidemic in Europe back in the 90′s and after the failed many “US war on drug”-type of approaches. They finally shift approach and started treated drug addicts as patients who needed help, not as criminals” says Goulao, the architect of Portugal drug policy. After the decriminalization and treatments, they planned to open “supervised drug consumption facilities” Naina Bajekal says in her 2018 article in the Time “where drug users can consume drugs in safer conditions with the assistance of trained staff. Such facilities have been running in Europe since 1986, when the first was opened in Berne, Switzerland.”(5)

The result? Evidence (6) shows these these type of sites save lives, reduce public disorder, and curb the spread of diseases.

Does that sound familiar? Yes, that's right, the first of the two businesses we spoke about: Narcopisos Inc.

Purgatory - Carrer d’en Roig 22, Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

For No Face No Case: Dope Stories chapter 4, we’re going to Italy. Don’t worry, it won’t be another mafia-related article explaining how the N’Drangheta and Camorra became the most powerful crime syndicates in the world, you can watch that on TV. Called “Il Racconto dei Racconti” (Tales of Tales in english), the article will keep it real, street style: short stories from North to South: Torino, Milano, Genoa, Roma, Napoli... Stay tuned for some dope stories on how drugs are sold, used and abused in the Renaissance country

References (1) https://www.barcelona-metropolitan.com/featuresx/report-barcelona-pakistani-community/ (2) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Raval (3) https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-47861444 (4)https://english.elpais.com/elpais/2018/12/07/inenglish/1544171107_204329.html (5) https://time.com/longform/portugal-drug-use-decriminalization/ (6) https://www.cbc.ca/news2/interactives/portugal-heroin-decriminalization/

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seriouslyhooked · 5 years ago

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Feels Like This (Part 3)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So thank you so much first and foremost for the love you guys have shown this fic. I have been so excited to write this and have been waiting ages to share it all with you. This is the kind of fluff and cuteness I personally need in my life right now, and I know a lot of you probably feel the same. Strap in for my usual dose of CS feels, and yes, for those of you asking, this is the moment CS will meet. Hope you all enjoy and thank you all so much for reading!

“And you’re sure you’ve got everything?” Emma asked, looking at Henry and knowing that he was ready to head into camp. They’d been over this numerous times, and at this point they were already out of the house and in front of the hall where campers congregated every morning. Still, Emma couldn’t help trying to soak up the moment with her kid just a little bit longer, and if that meant running through their list once more, so be it. “You have your lunch?”

“They give us lunch there, Mom.”

“Oh right,” she said, still shocked at how much was provided seeing as this program was free through the University. The children of all faculty and students were allowed to come, and it completely eradicated a need for her to find alternative childcare. Back in the States they had nothing like this built in anywhere. Getting Henry to camp previously either took a funding miracle, an insane amount of luck, or extra shifts at a second job. Usually he stayed with Mrs. H and Emma tried desperately to make it up to their neighbor. But now community sponsored help was becoming a given way of life, and every kid in Montenarro, no matter their background, seemed to have at least one path to a bright and happy summer.

“You’ve got your bag? How about water?”

“Yes and yes. We ran through this already, remember? I told you everything I had while you made breakfast.”

Emma smiled, knowing he was right, as crazy as it sounded. It was wild to her that on a weekday she would have the time, the patience, and the extra bit of cash to afford the spread they ate together today. They had eggs, fruit, bacon, oatmeal and there were fresh pastries if they wanted. It was like their special holiday brunch, which happened on Christmas or on one of their birthdays, but they’d had this or something similar every day for nearly two weeks. It might seem over the top, but between the later starting hours here in Montenarro, her reduced work schedule with a generous stipend, and the fairer prices at the markets, Emma finally felt like she could give her son what he deserved. For years they’d chowed down on discount cereal, and now, in an attempt to enjoy themselves and resemble their new neighbors, they were taking a slower, and far and away more luxurious approach.

“I remember, kid. So I’ll be back here at four, and if I’m a little late -,”

“I just hang out a while longer, I know,” Henry said, looking to the doorway. A grin appeared at his face as he spotted one of his new friends. The other young boy waved in their direction and Henry waved back, causing Emma’s heart to melt. Her son not only had friends here, he was thriving. He was so happy, and seeing him this way made her happy too. “You don’t have to rush, Mom. I know your work ends early now, but maybe you could do something just for yourself.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d rather stay later?” Emma asked, and Henry looked embarrassed for a moment before nodding.

“Not too much later, but Michael and Talia stay until five, and we’ve got this cool game going that we made up yesterday. It’s kind of hard to explain. But I can come home at four still. It’s okay, I’ll just -,”

“No, no, Henry, I am thrilled that you’re having a good time. I’ll be here at five.”

“Cool! Thanks, Mom!” Henry exclaimed, giving her a quick hug before heading for the door. “See you at five!”

She watched him get in safely, and the director of the camp who she’d met last week wished her a fond hello as she checked in Henry. Her greeting was pleasant and polite, and Emma knew if she had time the woman would talk her ear off about what it was like to be from America or the upcoming summer festivals. As it was though, Emma had to get going. She wasn’t late for work or anything, but she was eager to get there. Her work at the JR foundation was shaping up to be amazing. She was learning a lot, but she already felt like one of the team. Everyone who was there appreciated her, not just for working and helping out, but for her ideas. They were so responsive to suggestions, and always willing to try out any new concepts Emma had only really read about in books.

Their director, Marco, wasn’t like a normal boss. He didn’t hover or micromanage or come across as inaccessible. In fact, despite all the other calls on his time, Marco was with them all helping the kids and participating in their activities as much as he could. That leadership was so amazing in a space like this, and from everything Emma had experienced, the precedent he set was entirely reflective of the culture at large. Every person at the institute was determined to do right by these kids, and the children, despite the sad circumstances surrounding most of their lives, were doing so well and seemed so happy despite it all.

It was only a few city blocks from Henry’s camp to the center, but Emma let herself linger in the walk. She moved more slowly, matching the pace of the people around her, who never seemed to rush, and instead just enjoyed each day as it came. People were always smiling and laughing, and even the fighting was good natured. The streets were bustling but not full. They were cleaned regularly, maintaining the gorgeous cobblestone walks and the beautiful vintage architecture. It was warm here – a quintessential coastal retreat in the Mediterranean that she’d only ever imagined in her dreams or seen on travel TV. Everything considered, it was the opposite of New York, and despite having lived in the city she and Henry called home for more than ten years, Emma had to admit she didn’t miss it… at least not as much as she thought she would.

Don’t get too attached, Emma. This is temporary. Enjoy it while you can, but your real life is nothing like this.

The voice in her head was negative, but had a point, and Emma had no choice but to heed the advice. She would enjoy every bit of this she could, but she couldn’t get too comfortable, otherwise she’d miss this when they left. Even thinking of the heartbreak that may come if Henry continued to love it here so much left her reeling, but Emma carried on, pushing down that worry as she made her way past the institute’s front gates. It was important that she be in the right headspace when walking through these doors. The kids deserved her at 100%, and that was what she planned to be for them. Shaking off the worry from moments ago she moved inside, and as soon as she arrived, she was greeted by the sound of children running and laughing.

Some people might look at this place right now, apparently filled to the brim with kids who were wired and excitable now that it was officially summer and the school term was over, and think that this was chaos, but Emma knew better by now. Every child here ranging in age from six months to sixteen was attended to and accounted for. They had a large brood of kids, with sixty-seven at last count, and this was the biggest home under the JR foundation, though there were half a dozen more around the small country. Many children who were here would eventually be adopted, or would merge into part of a nationally funded fostering program, known for being one of the best systems in the world. In their last two years of school, older children went to special homes or foster placements designed just for them, to give them the attention and time they needed (instead of leaving them to the wayside for the sake of younger, needier children), and to prepare them for life outside of the system. Emma would eventually shadow a center that worked with those young adults, but for now, she was enjoying the hustle and bustle of the general group.

“Look, Char, it’s Emma!” one young boy named Thomas proclaimed to his little sister Charlotte from across the room, and in seconds every child had turned and was excitedly greeting her. Some of them came right up to hug her or give her a high five, but at the very least they all nodded in her direction and chirped out a fond hello.

“Good morning everyone,” Emma said, noticing the bags along the doorway and how the older kids were dressed in a uniform of navy colored shorts and florescent green shirts. “Did I miss something?” Emma asked aloud, not really to anyone in particular, but an answer came from one of the institute’s most trusted sources.

“Flora is taking the older children to the seaside today for a science lesson.”

The woman who filled Emma in was named Elsa, and despite the humidity in the air and the exuberance of the children all around them, she was totally put together and looked completely unstressed. Her hair was tied back in her usual braid, and her turquoise colored summer dress flowed in a way that looked poised for a summer catalogue. Elsa was effortless in an enviable way, but she was so kind and eager to be of help that Emma couldn’t begin to muster jealousy. In a short time Emma had begun to consider Elsa a friend, but though the two of them were roughly the same age, Emma was still a student and Elsa was a fully-fledged child psychologist who lived at the institute full time. She, and her sister Anna, who also worked at the institute, but as an activity’s coordinator, were two peas in a pod, but they’d done everything they could to include Emma and help her get her bearings in this new world.

“Lessons? In the summer?” Emma asked, not surprised that the institute was providing supplementary schooling year-round. She’d seen as much since starting here, but she was more taken aback at how excited these kids looked. Every child aged ten and older was gathered down here, no doubt waiting to fill the two institute vans out back. Still, how fun could a science lesson be?

“We use the term lessons lightly. For the rest of the morning the children will explore the tide pools at the national endowment’s shoreline about an hour north. There are some very unique ecosystems there, and so there is a whole lot to learn. But Flora will have them break for lunch and Anna takes over in the afternoon.”

“What’s she got in store for them?” Emma asked and Elsa shook her head.

“Well I can’t exactly say, as I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” Her smile grew at how silly that sounded, and she looked over her shoulder to check for Anna, but gave a little more when she saw that the coast was clear. “Let’s just say it’s going to be a jam-packed day that will go out with a blaze of glory.”

The emphasis Elsa used on the word ‘blaze’ made Emma think that there would likely be a beachside bonfire included, but before she could get confirmation, things started moving quickly. The older kids were summoned to the shuttles to go out for their day, and Emma meanwhile saw the clock and realized it was time for her to report to Marco’s office to get her assignment for the day. Moving through the playroom and the sunroom, which had the younger children and the babies respectively, she finally found her way and after knocking she walked into the brightly lit hub of all things here at the institute.

“Ah, good morning, Emma,” Marco said with a big smile, waving her in and gesturing that she should take a seat beside one of the other workers at the institute, Marie. Marie was Marco’s second in command, and though she never used the phase herself, the children had taken to calling her Nana. She had a maternal way about her, and every child seemed to love her as they might a favorite grandmother. “You’re here just in time. I’ve been talking with Marie and we think that today would be a perfect opportunity to try one of your intervention measures.”

“Really?” Emma asked, surprised, but excited at the thought. This would be the third that they had tried, and the last two had gone off without a hitch. “Which one?”

“The ‘Music Makes Me…’ one seems like a good choice. We have a few children who, to now, have been less responsive to our normal socializing measures. Their either shy or hurting, and we’re hoping to help them open up. Elsa’s our counselor on shift today and she’s eager to help oversee this. You’ll take the lead, but she’ll be there for any help you might need. We realize it’s a long-term project,” Marco said, looking down at a piece of paper to check his facts. “You wrote here three times a week for eight weeks. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir. Ideally. Positive identity work can start yielding results as soon as three weeks, but the Princeton Psychology Review did a study this winter that showed children’s habit forming reaches its peak effectiveness after the eight-week mark.”

“And this is one of the projects you modeled off of your own parenting experience, correct?” Marco asked as Emma nodded. Her throat grew tight at the genuine emotion behind this tactic, but this was a place with people she trusted not to judge her. As such, she shared what sparked the idea.

“When Henry first started school, he was one of the only kids that wasn’t in a two-parent household. Even the other single parents had some sort of family behind them, like grandparents, aunts and uncles, or other kids. I’m not exactly sure how long he struggled with being different in that way, he’s an independent kid and he kept his pain over that closed in, probably to spare me from being worried. But when his teachers gave me their assessment and told me what they thought was happening, I set something not dissimilar to this up. We tried painting and crafting to express his emotions, but the music seemed to help so much more.”

“It’s really remarkable, the way you’ve melded your experience with your son and your own past in with all of this cutting-edge research. It’s one of the many reasons we’re so thrilled you’re with us this year,” Marie said cheerfully and Emma warmed at the comment. Telling the story of her son’s pain at not having a father, however vague she had kept it, was hard, especially because Emma lay awake many nights wondering if he was missing something fundamental by not having a father. She wondered if it may hurt him in the long run. But she was reassured by the fact that she always did her best for Henry, and that her experience could help not just her son, but the children here who had no present parents at all.

“Given that it’s rather late notice, do you think you can manage? We’ve got a window right now for a few hours. Elsa’s already selected the children who may need the intervention most. She kept it in the 5-8 age range as you suggested.”

Emma immediately assured them that she could pull this together, as the concept was not hard. Basically what this practice/exercise included was playing music that was grounded in emotion. Some that were happy, some more subdued, some fast, and some slow, and encouraging kids to do what they wanted when they heard that. For Henry he’d always loved to run around and dance at the fast-paced songs. Then the slower ones were always more interesting. Sometimes he picked up a favorite toy, drew a picture on the supplies she left out, or created his own little imaginary game. All the while, however, Emma’s job was to engage, support, and ask questions.

The questions always started mildly. What’s your favorite color today? (she’d learned early not to box her son into ultimate favorites). If you could have any snack in the world what would you choose? What animal makes the funniest sound? Then the questions would evolve. Her son, like many kids, was a vivid dreamer and Emma often asked about those night time visions. Sometimes they meant nothing but sometimes they told her a lot. She wanted to include that with these kids, but also include more focused questions to them about how they felt here at the institute, what they felt like when they told people from the outside about living here, and what they dreamed of for the future. She’d always ended each session with Henry in two parts. The first was to ask Henry what his biggest wish was for someone else, and the second was to ask his biggest wish for himself. Kids at his age were filled with wishes and wants, but Emma knew from personal experience, that that may already be flickering away in kids without parents. She’d been seven years old when her hope truly started to fade away, and she believed if she’d had these kind of positive affirmations and people who were working to see her happy and well situated, her relationship with the world and herself would have been much easier.

In the end, Marco, Marie, and Elsa decided that there were five best candidates for today’s intervention. Stella and Timothy were a biological brother and sister who had been at the institute for about a year. They were eight and six, and both of them were doing pretty well despite their parents losing custody of them from continued problems with substance abuse. They were likely moving into a fostering situation by the end of the summer, but they had been here a bit longer than normal because they were bonded together and making that accommodation took patience and the right placement. According to Elsa, Stella’s teachers a few times had mentioned her shyness, especially when people brought up her home life. Malek was a seven-year-old boy from a similar situation, though his father was in the process of getting clean for his son. The institute was always cautious for replacement with parents who struggled, but if his father could demonstrate stability and stay clean a full year, the legal system would grant him custody again. Malek, understandably, had mixed feelings about going back, and Emma wanted to try and help him with those through this process. Carlos, meanwhile, was a rambunctious six-year-old who had been given up at birth. He was shaped by his status as an orphan, and had a few close adoption calls that ultimately fell through. Luckily, though, a new family with sincere interest and the means to take care of him was stepping up, and they had exactly eight weeks before the system would process their filing for adoption, a perfect amount of time to help Carlos with some of these image issues before he settled into his new home.

The final child in Emma’s care today, however, was Cecilia, or as the other children called her, ‘CeeCee.’ Cecelia was a newcomer to the institute, and at just barely five years old, she was the youngest in Emma’s group today. She was quiet and withdrawn, but given her background that was all to be expected. At such a young age Cecelia had already been through so much. When she was two her parents had tragically passed in a car accident, and she’d moved in with her grandmother. Her grandmother was loving and did everything she could for her, but she was in poor health, and was now in need of care herself. Emma wasn’t here on the day that Cecelia came to the foundation, but Elsa had mentioned it with tears in her eyes a few days prior.

“I’ve seen so much heartbreak in this job, but watching that little girl realize she was being left behind… It was awful. She cried so quietly and for so long. It took us weeks to get her to say anything at all.”

Even now Cecelia was always quiet. She’d blended in a bit more with the other children, but she wasn’t particularly bonded to any of them. She had grown to be more trusting of the adults, but not in a really promising way. With Emma she’d always been sweet and well-tempered, but Emma hoped that this process might help her, and might get her to a place where she could be better socialized and cared for. The next few hours proved to be even more promising than Emma dared to hope. All five children not only had fun, but made good steps towards progress. They all confided a little bit in Emma and Elsa, and they all responded well to the method. When Emma asked them if they’d like to do this again in a few days, all five of them were thrilled, and little Cecelia, who was normally so shy, was the biggest shock of all. Over the course of the few hours she’d opened up so much to Emma, and by the end of the session she was holding Emma’s hand tightly, intent on going with her through her day. Emma was so happy to see this little girl doing so much better, and she had to admit she was invested in this child, perhaps more than any other she’d met so far at the institute.

“Do you think it’s all right?” Emma asked, motioning downwards, but not saying everything aloud. The last thing she wanted was for Cecelia to not feel wanted when she’d made such tremendous progress, but she was worried about what might happen if she grew too attached.

“This happens sometimes. Kids have a sense for safe spaces. She was already responding really well to you before,” Elsa said, crouching down and waving at Cecelia, sharing a soft compliment for the toy rabbit she was carrying with her today, which made the little girl smile and chirp out a gentle ‘Thank You.’ Even that little show of gratitude and the genuine smile was an improvement, and Emma felt a burst of pride seeing this young girl come out of her shell. “We’ll keep an eye on it, but I think it’s best to see where it goes. She’s showing no signs of dependency, and hopefully you’ll be the perfect gateway for her to let the rest of us in.”

Emma hoped that Elsa was right, and as everyone in the center gathered for lunch, Cecelia stayed close by. Emma did her best to stay attentive to all of the kids who choose to eat with her today, but she also wanted to lead this lost little girl towards others who may be her friends. She was making good progress with another five-year-old named Ava, who was eager to be friendlier with Cecelia, when Marie approached, appearing frazzled and a little shaken.

“Is everything all right?” Emma asked, careful to keep her words calm and her tone even so as not to scare the kids. Her instincts were that something bad must be happening, but Marie shook her head, quickly dispelling her of that notion.

“Everything is wonderful, dear. We just have an unexpected visitor – actually I guess visitor is the wrong word. He’ll be staying on here for a while to work with us all. It’s a bit unexpected, but I dare say it’ll prove a delight in the end, for us and for the children.”

“Who is it that’s coming?” Emma asked, and Marie looked poised to blurt something out, but then caught herself and weighed her words carefully.

“One of the members of the family who run the foundation.”

Emma now began to understand the sudden rise in stress. Whatever JR stood for, and whichever family it was that could afford to spend so much on these resources, they must be both terribly rich and powerful. Being so new here, Emma didn’t know any background about the endowment, but she hoped that whoever was coming would be a help and not a hindrance. Surely they’d come here and see how much good work was being accomplished. She hated to think they’d be coming to make cuts or roll back funding.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Emma asked and Marie shook her head.

“Oh no dear. You’re doing a wonderful job. This isn’t an assessment of any kind. I believe it’s a genuine act of charity. You see he’s been in the military, and now he’s come home. His family’s no doubt pushing him towards some kind of occupation, and he’s chosen this as his pursuit.”

Emma wanted to ask more, about if this mystery man had any experience with kids or why, even if he was so very rich, Marie displayed school-girlish enthusiasm at his coming, but the older woman moved on to handle something else. Instead Emma waved Elsa over and asked her if she knew the man who was coming.

“Of course I do, everyone knows him,” Elsa said, thoroughly adamant that this stranger was of some notoriety. Then her features softened and she took on a thoughtful expression. “Well I suppose we know of him. We’ve never met, you see. But it’s impossible not to know him.”

Emma nodded, but she was still somewhat surprised. To this point she hadn’t gathered a sense that the family who ran the endowment was exceedingly involved in the day to day of the center. But then again, Elsa had been here far longer than her, and so she probably needed to keep track of the important players who were their most generous donors. Emma could have remained hung up on the strangeness of it all, but instead her mind wandered to the few details she did know. He was a military man, newly home, and he was coming here to make a difference. She thought about that and what that meant, and she found that she already liked him, or at least his attitude. Serving in the armed forces meant a life of service – to come home from that and still want to help others was admirable, and she hoped it would provide a good role model for the children, no matter what his actual child life background might be.

From the window in the great hall where all of the children and staff took their meals, they could all see down the back drive where a second entrance to the center was located. At that moment three black SUVs began their ascent, and the children’s attention immediately perked up as they ran to the windows. Emma felt the growing anticipation at the new arrival, and she wondered why there would need to be three SUVs. It reminded her of the protective details that sometimes came in the city, when big time politicians made their way to city hall where she worked for some sort of meeting or photo op. But what would be the reason for such a display today? Why would anyone need one of those when coming to a children’s center? It was hard to grasp, but then she questioned her instinct. The men who exited from the vehicles weren’t in high profile suits. They were more casually dressed, just like any workers here at the center. She wasn’t able to see all of them, but soon enough there were voices in the hall. Marco and Marie greeted the newcomer, and Emma only caught a snippet of the conversation.

“We’re thrilled to have you here, Sir.”

“Killian, please.”

“Killian. Right, sorry. That may take getting used to.”

“Not a problem. We have time.”

Emma was caught up in the sound of the new voice. It was distant, but even from here she felt an impact at the gravel in the tone and the lilt of the accent. It washed over her, sparking a sizzling sensation that was foreign to her, and after weeks in this country she’d always found the accent pleasing, but never responded like this. She found herself wanting to know what this man looked like, to see what kind of appearance could go with a voice that enticing, but she was getting ahead of herself. What did it matter what he looked like? He was going to be a coworker, right? This was hardly the time or place to be interested in someone. Still her stomach swooped with the tell-tale flutter of butterflies and she shifted in her seat. The action, along with the new voice in the hall, sparked something in Cecelia to change from comfortable to tense. The young girl grabbed at Emma’s shirt, latching on for a sense of perceived safety. Emma’s heart reached out to this poor, sweet girl, and she took her hand gently, trying to assure her as swiftly as she could.

“It’s all right, honey. You’re safe here. I promise.”

“I don’t like strangers,” Cecelia said and Emma tried not to get misty eyed at the sense of uncertainty this little girl held so tight.

“I was a stranger once, wasn’t I?” Emma asked and Cecelia considered that before nodding.

“But you’re nice to me. You read us stories and play us music. You’re my most favorite friend.”

“And you are my friend too, honey. So let’s wait and see what kind of person he is before we decide if we like him, okay? You never know – he could be your favorite too.”

Cecelia looked skeptical but ultimately agreed, and Emma was glad to have that sorted. She had been so focused on curtailing Cecelia’s worry that she forgot where they were. Now she noticed everyone else was standing, children and staff alike, so she helped Cecelia down from her seat and stood up herself. The sounds of people walking in played out around her, but Emma took a moment to make sure her young charge was settled before looking back up. She patted Cecelia’s hair and brushed her full brown curls from her face, with care. Only then did she look up. But when she did, she never could have expected what would happen.

As her eyes took in the stranger, their gazes met, and she was struck by a sense of recognition and realization that she’d never felt before. Something clicked for her in that moment, in the first few seconds of their seeing each other, and her awareness grew stronger and stronger. So much bubbled up to the surface, emotions and feelings and desire and interest. It was like something was opened within her, and she felt drawn into this man and unable to resist. This stranger had blue eyes, intense but warm all at once, piercing in a way that they seemed like she knew them and they knew her. Instinctively she looked to the rest of him - Killian he said his name was - but it didn’t help her sense of disorientation. His face was remarkable, strong and sure. His hair was dark, and his figure was no doubt honed for the expectations of his years of military service. She felt herself taking him all in, and then caught herself and thought about what a scene she was making. This wasn’t appropriate. Oggling this man just because he was hot – okay more than hot, he was… god was it lame to say perfect – oh Christ she was doing it again. She needed to stop, but when she looked up at him, she caught him doing the same thing to her. It was incredible to feel his interest, and for a moment it was like the world stopped spinning so the two of them could find each other.

Find each other? Jesus, Emma, get a grip. The thought ran through her head as Marco began to address them all.

“Everyone, this is our newest friend here at the institute, Killian.”

“You’re big,” a boy named Seamus called out, unceremoniously and for a beat Marco and Marie looked concerned, but Killian only laughed.

“You should see my brother.”

“Is he coming too?” Marie asked, looking like she might actually be done in by the news.

“No, ma’am,” Killian said with a small smile and Marie let out a sigh of relief. What was that about?

“Why do you stand so straight?” another boy asked and Killian explained.

“I was in the royal navy.” This was met by a chorus of oohs and aahs, from the girls and boys alike.

“Are you a good person?” someone asked, and only after a moment did Emma realize it was Cecelia. She was shocked at the display of bravery from her little companion, but then that was compounded by Killian’s movement towards them. He split his looks between Cecelia and her, but when he approached he crouched down so as to be eye level with the little girl.

“What’s your name, little one?”

“Cecelia.”

“Cecelia. That’s a beautiful name,” he said honestly and Cecelia swayed side to side a bit with the compliment. “Now as for your question, I certainly try to be good.”

“But you’re a stranger,” Cecelia said, looking at him with a furrowed brow, as if this was some kind of simple math he should understand.

“For now I am. But not forever, I hope.”

“My Emma was a stranger too. She’s a good person. Are you like my Emma?”

Now Killian rose to full height and he addressed Emma as much as he did Cecelia. “I do like her.” Emma’s heart skipped and then she watched his face shift in embarrassment as he realized what he said. “I mean I hope I’m like her, lass. But only time will tell.”

“Miss Emma, does time talk?” Cecelia asked and Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing as her eyes caught Killian’s again.

“No, honey. It’s an expression. It means that with a little bit of time you will know if he’s a good person. You just have to be patient.”

The look Killian gave her in that moment was packed with so much. Gratitude, interest, and something more. There was a charge between them that she just couldn’t deny, and she could tell he felt it too. But before he could say anymore, Marco called everyone’s attention again.

“Anyone have any ideas as to how we should welcome Killian?” he asked and a chorus of answers came flooding in.

“I know! I know! We should show him our giving tree.”

“No! We should show him our playground!”

“I want to show him my pirate ship!”

“We should feed him the turnovers Cook makes. She hides them in a secret spot but I know where they are!”

“Well that all sounds brilliant, especially the turnovers. Why don’t we do all of it?” Killian asked, before looking to Marco who nodded readily. The kids looked excited, and were eager to go, but before things got too crazy, Killian looked back at Emma and grinned.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Emma.”

And with that, and with so much swag and sexiness it made her a little dizzy, this mysterious new man set off, throwing himself into the deep end with these kids, and showing them all that he could hold as own, just as surely as he could hold her attention.

Post-Note: So there we have it! I know, I know, you’re probably mad I kept their meeting so short and waited until the very end, but next chapter I am planning to include this first meeting from Killian’s POV. This story, as much as any of my stories can, has a bit of a slower build, because there are a lot of elements I really want to include, but I promise there’s plenty of fluff in store and a lot of cuteness that yet to come. Thank you all so much for reading, and I really hope you’ll leave a comment or a review. I’d love to see what you all think and what you’d like to see going forward in this new fic. Anyway, I will do my best to update soon (probably next weekend), but in the meantime I hope you’re all well, safe, and happy in this uncertain time!

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