#i've had one woman point to me and say she wished she had a waist like mine 😩

[sneezysubbyboi]

I've always stood out a bit from the crowd because of my beanpole physique for a guy — but today it was funny to get an audible "wHOA-" from my coworker, who's always just seen me in an oversized sweater until I took it off 😅

like yeah bro, these skinny arms helped you open that container you struggled with not too long ago, what about it?

[slasherscream]

Wash Day

pairing:  jordan li x fem black!reader

"You wanna go out to dinner tonight? Know I've been busy this week. Feel like I've barely seen you." Jordan mutters against the shell of your ear. You shiver as he gives the skin a teasing kiss.

Already you're pouting, knowing what your answer has to be even though you wish so desperately that you could give a different response. "Wish I could, Jordan. But my night is already spoken for."

You're spun around by a hand on your hip, playful and fast so that you can't stop yourself from falling into his chest. Your hands grip his jacket for balance, and he reaches up to hold one of them with his own. "You got plans? With who? Cate? Cancel them."

"Brat." You laugh.

How demanding Jordan is would be less cute if they ever asked you to do something they themselves wouldn't. As it stands, with the way they do anything you ask at the drop of a hat, all you can do is roll your eyes and pretend to be exasperated instead of smitten.

"Fine, don't cancel. I'll just come with." Jordan sighs, as if seeing his best friend is a great tragedy (Which it is. Cate being there means you'll smack Jordan's hand away when he tries to sneak it up your skirt at dinner.)

"What if we want a girls' night?" You shoot back, grinning.

Jordan shifts. The hands on your waist are smaller now, but pull you in closer, "You're the one who's feeling bratty. Really have been neglecting you this week, huh baby?" Jordan smirks, in that condescending way she does when she realizes you're trying to get a certain reaction out of her.

"The plans aren't with Cate, and they aren't cancellable." You sigh, deciding not to rise to the bait of her tone, smirk, or the little circles she's rubbing into your skin.

"What are these oh so important plans?" Jordan asks.

"Do you know how many white boys have complimented my hair today, Jordan?" You ask.

"Pardon?" Jordan blinks at what seems to be a completely unrelated topic.

"Six! Six white boys complimented my braids today. I'm about to kill myself, if we're being honest. I must looked fucked up, and you didn't even say anything." You pout.

You've been having a bit of a rough day, to say the least.

"You look beautiful. What are you talking about?" Jordan asks, confused but nonetheless, wanting to make you feel better. "If you didn't look good I'd very politely... have Cate tell you. But you look great! You've been getting compliments all day, you just said it yourself!"

"Wow, you'd throw Cate under the bus, huh coward?"

"Cate isn't interested in making out with you every spare second of the day. I am. You can be mad at her. I've got stuff I wanna do." Jordan's grin is downright salacious. You smack her arm, trying not to smile.

"Ah. You are operating under the same delusions of the white man. I see that now, I'll let go of the anger." You say, sighing and kissing Jordan on the cheek.

"First of all, don't you ever fucking insult me like that again.... Second of all, what particular delusion am I sharing with the white man?" Jordan asks.

"White men only compliment a black woman's hairstyle at two points in time. When it's brand spanking, fresh off the lot new. Or when it's started to look like shit. I've had these braids in for longer than... is your business. So guess which compliment I'm getting right now?"

"I fucking refuse to say your hair looks like shit, and this conversation feels like a trap. You're always beautiful to me." Jordan says.

"Thank you, baby. But we live on a campus where the diversity win photographers lurk around every corner trying to get pictures of 'The Diversity Win Couple' in our most natural state. I need to take out my braids tonight before I talk crazy in the group chat, and Andre sends me a 'this you?' pic that will devastate my argument." You shake your head somberly, already imagining the fate that lies before you.

"You could stop talking crazy in the group chat." Jordan teases.

"You know damn well I'm not capable of that."

The two of you burst into laughter, unable to keep it together. Jordan has always been obsessed with how easy it is for you to make them laugh.

"Is that gonna take up your whole night, though, baby? We don't have to go to dinner early! We'll go wherever you want." Jordan insists, tone bordering on begging.

Whenever they come out of a particularly busy week, they spend the next two weeks glued to you. As if to make up for it. The clinginess is a stark difference from how they acted before you made things official.

"Jordan, look at the braids on my head."

"I'm looking at them."

"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"

"Yes, and my eyes are sending the image to my brain, which I assure you is working. What's your point here, baby?"

"How long do you think it will take me to undo these, detangle my hair, wash it, deep condition it, and then wash it again?"

Jordan squints at you for a long moment, analyzing your hairstyle and the utter displeasure on your face. "I dunno? Maybe... four hours?"

"I should fucking murder you. Just for that, you're helping me with wash day now."

Jordan's face breaks into a grin like sunlight breaking through clouds, "So I do get to spend the day with you, is what you're saying?"

"Yeah, baby, you get to spend the day with me." You click your tongue at them. Pitying them for the ache in their fingers they're about to feel. They complain about curling their God damn hair a couple of times a week. You suspect you'll be ready to kill one another by hour two.

But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.

"Don't cut too high up, Jordie. " You whine, shifting his grip lower on your braid, to an acceptable cutting length of the hair extension.

"Baby... can I ask you a very serious question right now?" Jordan hums, obediently cutting where you instructed.

"What?" You ask, already starting to unbraid the piece.

"How... long... do you think your hair is?" Jordan, to be fair to him, does ask the question quietly and with the proper amount of hesitation.

"How dare you! Are you calling me bald?" You gasp, stifling a laugh.

"Don't do this to me. You are prolonging the process. We can cut these braids at least four inches higher than what we're doing right now." Jordan says, you can't see his face but you can tell he's also trying not to laugh. Bastard.

"My hair grew!"

"From the top of your head. It did not magically lower itself further into the fucking braid extension." Jordan loses the battle and laughs.

"Jordan Li do not fucking cut off any of my hair or I'll cry and then blow up this school."

"Of course, princess." Jordan kisses the top of your head and gives in to your terrorist demands because you're cute.

"So how am I supposed to do it, baby?" Jordan claps her hands and you smile at how eager she sounds to help.

"You're gonna want to section it off. Do like... eight parts of hair. That'll make literally every step after this easier. Then you're gonna comb the hair from the bottom, 'kay?"

"Got it."

Jordan starts the process of parting your hair, careful and slow. Fingers sectioning off eight chunks of hair that she keeps apart with the silky hair ties you hand her over your shoulder.

"You sure you don't want me to comb it, Jordie?" You ask Jordan.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry. You always say your shoulders hurt at the end of wash day. Which is crazy, because I've seen what you can bench. I've got you, baby." She spritzes extra detangler spray on each of the parts she just made.

You move around slightly, a little sore already from sitting still between her legs for so long, but smiling to yourself nonetheless. A pillow is suddenly shoved into your face and you lean away, confused.

"Sit on this one instead. It'll be better." Jordan says.

You switch out the pillows and tilt your head back to look at her. "Why're you always right? Is that your kink?"

"No, my kink is bossing you around." Jordan smirks and leans down to give you a kiss. Despite the awkward angle you can't help trying to deepen the contact. The feeling of her soft lips sliding against yours, firm but gentle, is always irresistible.

She hums and gives you a playful nip before pulling away. "Don't start something we can't finish."

"Who says we can't?" You shoot back, staring up at her.

"You will be pissed an hour from now if you glance at your phone and we haven't made any progress." Jordan runs her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing your head forward.

"Who says it will take an hour?"

"I do. If we start, I'm not stopping." Jordan's voice dips seductively and a line of tension runs up the length of your spine.

You smack her thigh for teasing you, "Shut up."

"Is this comfortable?" Jordan frowns, staring at the angle your head has to be at to fit in the bowl of the sink.

"No, but this is the best angle this chair can get me to." You say. Usually you just wash in the shower, but since Jordan is helping the sink makes more sense.

Jordan stands, scowling at how uncomfortable you seem. Suddenly he grins, "Baby! Make a chair with your shields. Something that leans."

You were getting a lot better with being able to make complex shapes, with less concentration. You stand up from the chair you'd dragged from the common room. Jordan pulls it out of the way and gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

It takes you a minute, but you conjure a shield that resembles a salon chair and the both of you let out identical cries of delight.

Jordan pushes you to sit down with a kiss on your forehead. "That's my fucking girl. Tell me if the temperature is too hot."

Jordan washes your hair with the perfect amount of pressure and thoroughness. He's nearly rhythmic in his methodical cleaning. You didn't realize your eyes had fluttered closed until you hear him laugh. You open one eye to glare at him playfully, knowing he won't get soap in them.

"What's so funny?"

"You're like a cat. You gonna purr for me, baby?" He smirks.

"If you keep going like that, yeah. Or I'll fall asleep. Please don't make me fall asleep. I'll fall on my ass." You say.

"I'll endeavor to make the rest of the wash as unpleasant as possible."

He does not do that. And at one point you do fall asleep. Jordan catches you before you can actually fall. 'Thank God for Supe reflexes', you both think. You spend the rest of the wash with your eyes wide open and Jordan laughing at you.

"Did we put too much?" Jordan asks, dabbing at another drip of oil and conditioner down your brow.

"No, this is typical. The hair has to be saturated. It's dripping because the oil is you know... getting hot and even more liquid-y." You say, eyeing the episode of Property Brother's you'd both decided on. "Hm. I think that woman should be put to death."

Jordan was keeping vigilant about dabbing at the sides of your face. You'd been in charge of one side, at first. But Jordan seemed to have a sixth sense for when the other side was dripping as well, and kept interrupting you before you could get to any trickles of oil. You'd given up and just started narrating the show for her as she wasn't taking her eyes off the line of your brow.

"Why? What did she do?" Jordan dabs again.

"She wants to put up a fence that blocks the view of the historical house that she did not have to buy if she wanted a fence so bad." You roll your eyes.

"Is the city gonna let her?"

"No."

"Haha. 500k down the drain." Jordan cackles.

"Anti-gentrification win!" You hold out your fist for a fist-bump and Jordan obediently obliges, oil soaked rag still held in her fist.

A comfortable silence falls over you two, besides the noise of the portable hair dryer.

"I really think we put too much, baby." Jordan mutters, dabbing again.

"I have been doing this since I was twelve, Jordan!"

"Play the video again, one speed slower this time." Jordan's eyes are glued to your phone.

You're sitting between his legs again, cushioned by the (superior) pillow of his choosing. You were trying to decide on a simple hair style when Jordan saw a picture of Mini Twists and got excited to see you in them.

("You've already seen me in mini twists, Jordie. What are you talking about?"

"You weren't my girlfriend the last time you wore them though! Now you are, and I get to look at you as much as I want."

So that had decided that.)

"Okay, I think I got it. 'M gonna start with a braid base, without making the parts too big, then start twisting the hair with two strands, and that will make it last longer, right?"

"Right." You smile at how focused Jordan sounds.

They're hot when they're in the zone. You just didn't think they'd get so into helping you with your hair. But you should have known, really. Acts of service paired with their inner perfectionist? You're completely relaxed at this point. You know Jordan won't have you walking out of your room looking crazy, come hell or high water.

"Is this okay?" Jordan shows you a picture of the back of your head, three rows of twists done.

You gasp, snatching the phone, "That's my head?"

"Uh... yes?" Jordan answers slowly.

"The back of my head? The head on my body?"

"Should I start over?"

"Fuck you! These are almost better than mine. Who's hair are you playing around in when I'm not here, Jordan LI?"

"Stop using my fucking government name." Jordan tilts your head back to look at him with a gentle grip on your neck, grinning down at you. "You play too fucking much. You sure they're good, princess? It's okay if I need to redo them."

"I'm gonna give you orgasms that will make you lose brain cells."

"Baby!" Jordan laughs, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious. Do any of them need redoing?"

"The first row is really fucking good for a beginner but the second row is damn near perfect." You say.

"I'll redo the first row then." Jordan kisses your temple before moving you to face forward again.

"I said they were good!" You protest.

"But the second row is better. I want the whole thing to look good. Don't want you feeling self conscious cause I fucked up the style, y'know." Jordan mumbles.

You tilt your head back to look at him, ignoring him sucking his teeth (a habit he picked up from you) at you moving.

"I love you, Jordie. Thank you for helping me today." You coo.

You watch his face go red with a grin. He grins back, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. When he tries to pull away too soon you whine, holding him close by the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Wanna kiss you. You're sweet." You breathe the words against his lips, insistently continuing the caress.

He sighs, smitten, and let's you lead for a moment. Hand finding it's way back to your neck and tightening just enough to make you gasp. Still, he pulls away too quickly.

"I'm gonna fuck you up." You scowl at him.

"The only thing you're gonna fuck up is your neck, brat. This is a horrible angle for you." Jordan's smile is so soft at the edges it's your turn to blush.

"Speak for yourself."

"No, I'm too busy speaking on behalf of your neck."

"Well, I'm speaking on behalf of my-"

"Pussy?"

"I was going to say raging hormones but that's a lot more to the point, yeah. Or maybe I was going to say something romantic. You ever think of that, Jordie? Huh?"

"Were you going to say something romantic?" Jordan hums.

"No."

"Let me do your hair in peace." Jordan turns you forward again with a laugh.

"Turn this way." Jordan instructs, snapping another picture.

"I don't know whether you're worse than an Instagram hair stylist or a Mom." You ponder, words barely audible because your girlfriend is scary.

"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.

As if engraved into your genetic code the words make you do just that. You suffer through another 20 pictures being taken before you say enough is enough.

Jordan happily shows you the pictures, as if you hadn't seen yourself in the mirror just a minute ago. Or ever. The grin on her face so wide it looks like it hurts.

"You like it, baby?" Jordan asks again.

"It looks so good, Jordie. It looks like I paid someone honestly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You drape your arms around her shoulders. "How's this angle?"

"For what?" Jordan tilts her head to the side, puzzled.

"For kissing. Since you were so worried about the angle before."

Jordan scoffs, but she's the one to pull you in. She doesn't pull away this time.

A/N: i needed reader to have a goofball vibe because i have a goofball vibe. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[julieverne]

"We do need to discuss our last wishes," Maura told Jane solemnly that night. She'd come over unannounced, which was unlike her. Jane had let her in despite not wanting company, despite, for the first time in her life, not wanting to talk to Maura.

They'd just dealt with a werewolf and a sniper. Maura had stabbed a man. She hadn't been hurt, but she was clearly shaken by the experience.

The more distance she tried to put between them, the more it hurt. Maura had broken up with Jack, and she hadn't even seemed upset about it. Probably too traumatised from her long day at work.

"There's something I've always wanted to do."

"We started our bucket lists. We already did ravioli," Jane pointed out. She didn't know why she was nervous. She'd faced her own mortality many times. She'd made willing sacrifices to keep her loved ones - and relative strangers - safe.

But Maura wasn't used to being grabbed. There was a bruise on her - Jane had seen it earlier, and it hurt Jane probably more than it hurt Maura. Jane hadn't been there. Jane hadn't protected her. Jane had failed.

Maura was better off without her. Better off with a man like Jack. Intellectually Jane knew all this, but her heart...

Her heart wanted Maura.

"I mean..."

They'd talked about it when Jane had jumped off a bridge. She'd already lost her baby and had nothing to live for; not with Maura dating Jack.

"I mean when that man grabbed me and I forgot I had a knife, I had a regret. A last wish." Maura came closer and Jane eyed her with trepidation. She touched Jane's cheek, and the bruise was visible now; a mark where a man's hand had hurt her.

Jane reached and touched it gently with a little growl of frustration that she'd let someone hurt Maura, even though it was on Maura's chest.

"It doesn't hurt. Not the way this does."

Still cupping Jane's cheek, she leaned in. Jane had been half-expecting this for years. She'd rehearsed what to say, how to turn her down.

But instead her mouth opened for Maura, letting her in the way she'd done for her condo, her fridge, her life. Maura's fingers tangled in her hair and Jane's palm flattened over Maura's chest, her other hand raised to push Maura away but instead settling on Maura's shoulder and pulling her closer, sliding down to her waist. Maura's tongue brushed her lips and nothing had ever been so exquisite, so wonderful. She was lost in sensation.

And then Maura pulled away with a shaky, shuddering breath, close to tears.

"I can't," Jane said, her voice cracking with regret.

"I know," Maura said, and turned to leave as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

Maura nodded as she fumbled with the door. Jane came over to help her, leaning over her to grasp the deadbolt.

Maura turned in her arms and Jane nearly had here then and there, against the door, Maura's body pressed against herself everywhere, her sweet face so full of regret.

Instead Jane leaned down and kissed her. Just once. Softly, gently, sweetly, all the things she was only capable of for Maura.

Maura's forehead rested against Jane's cheek for a moment when she pulled away. Jane wanted to hold her, to love her the way she deserved to be loved, but Jane wasn't capable of that. There was always a ball of shame in her stomach when she realised how much more she loved Maura than she should, and Maura deserved better than that. She deserved better than Jane.

"I can die a happy woman," Maura said finally. "No regrets." She met Jane's eyes and her tongue poked for a moment between her lips, the way it did when she was stressed out. Jane let her palm smooth over Maura's back.

"No regrets," she agreed, because for one shining moment she had been brave enough to take what she wanted.

And then she closed the door between them and found she had too many regrets to count.

[shadowriel]

Nessian 10 days AU? 🫠

This fic is pure entertainment. I've been working on it on the side for 6 months now, and I'm at about 30k words (although it's minimally edited and needs to be flushed out). I do have it all roughly outlined though, and I'm so excited for when I finally let myself share it (which will probably be after I finish FRPO).

What can I say about it? We have sex columnist, workaholic "I’ll make him wish he never met me"  Nesta and playboy, commitment phobe "Maybe he’d give her a few orgasms for her troubles" Cassian. Think how to lose a guy in 10 days, but more unhinged, more smutty, more politically correct, and also more heartfelt.

Here's a longer snippet from chapter 4 (but bear with me, because I still need to edit it):

“Two weeks,” Rhysand repeated. “You have until then to have whoever I choose fall in love with you.”

His brother wasn’t making this easy, not in one bit.

“Who?” Cassian asked simply, just as Rhysand gaze shifted to look around them. 

Rhysand’s eyes darted over an incredibly attractive man, with dark, nearly black skin and a sensuous smile. Cassian would happily let that man love him any day. His brother momentarily watched a girl with short copper brown hair bring a glass to her lips as she laughed. Then Rhys was looking behind Cassian, lifting his chin as if pointing in that direction, saying a simple word:

“Her.”

Cassian quickly turned around in his chair, trying to find who exact Rhys was gesturing at across the dark bar. 

There were far too many women, so Rhysand clarified, “The one in black.”

Cassian’s eyes widened at the girl near the bar, in a black mini-dress, a hand stroking up her hips as she danced and tossed her blond hair back. Cassian would not mind spending the next week with her. His gaze was entirely fixed on her—she was fucking gorgeous.

There was a hand on his chin, stretched down from where Rhys now stood beside him. His brother pushed his head, guiding his gaze an inch to the left before pointing in that very same direction.

“I’m talking about her.”

Cassian’s gaze found the other woman in black, sitting on a high stool at the bar. Her golden-brown hair was braided in a crown around her head, almost regal in the dark clothing she wore—high waisted dress pants and a tight, lacy shirt. Even from the distance, he could just make out the dark shade of lipstick she wore, painting the frown on her lips to a near black. She lifted a clear glass filled halfway with an orange drink to her lips, staining the rim as she stared ahead of herself and took a sip.

“Morticia Addams?” Cassian asked, staring across the bar at the woman in disbelief. She was pretty, he had to admit, but not someone he’d ever pick for himself. “Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

“Careful,” Azriel warned from behind him, voice low and just a bit teasing, “that's the future love of your life you’re talking about.”

Cassian bit back a laugh. As if.

She was simply the woman he’d spend the next two weeks with, getting to know well enough to have her falling in love with him. And maybe he’d give her a few orgasms for her troubles—more, if she was willing to let Cassian give them to her. She was simply a means to an ends, someone to help him ease the growing strain on his conscious that demanded he settle his most recent debt. Just this one since he could never hope to repay any of the rest.

Cassian straightened his shoulders, setting down his beer and making to stand.

“Two weeks?” he asked, shaking his head to psych himself up, leaving loose strands of his hair falling into his face.

“Or less,” Rhysand said, nearly taunting, “if you think you can manage it.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, not wanting to dig himself further into this hole. He kept his gaze fixed on his target, watching as her frown deepened into a scowl. He’d charmed countless people in his life, some only with a flirty smile and a dazzling look. He’d had people taking their clothes off before he’d even said a word, ready for the promise of fun he seemed to exude.

The woman at the bar looked like she could use some fun. Luckily, Cassian was ready to give it to her.

At long last, when he took a step towards her, he was grinning.

“She’s gonna eat him alive,” Azriel said from behind him.

Rhysand chuckled. “Without a doubt.”

[viking-writing]

Hallo hallo!💕 HAPPY NEW YEARS/GODT NYTTÅR!🎉

I'm planning on getting the first fic in my Rammstein AU fic series done in 2024! Hopefully before the end of January as that is Rammsteins 30th anniversary-month (Or so I've been told?) but 2024 is their anniversary year anyway so I'll be done long before the end of this year with the first fic in the series! 😁

@marimayscarlett you need to help me with some of the german so you get to read all the chapters before everyone else! ^^

Here is a sneak peak on some of my OC's.

I've actually found at least one of them on "thispersondoesnotexist.com" and it was surreal how the looks matched so perfectly with how I visioned him in my head. Especially considering how the page just makes random AI persons every single time you refresh. I even ended up finding TWO pictures of him (the two fake men look nearly identical and it was beyond perfect for how I visioned him!)

I'll save the "realistic pictures" for some other time. Instead enjoy some piccrew avatars I made of some of my OC's (with some added facts. Warning; this is a long read so if you don't bother you can just look at the avatars instead)

Name: Cornelia Francesca (II/the 2nd.). However she prefers to only go by "Cornelia" or "Nelia" for short.

Gender: Cis woman

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Pansexual

Nationality: That depends on what you lay in the meaning "nationality" (She is mostly German by blood but she was born and grew up in France.)

Facial features: Very pale skin (her veins are mostly visible) and her face is heartshaped. She considers her chin to be "too long and sharp-pointed" and with her big dark- blue, doll-like eyes and blonde curly locks she is often underrestimated or "sweet-talked". Her brows are Blonde/white/nearly "invisible", and her upper lip is slightly bigger than her lower lip, which sometimes could be mistaken for a "frowning pout". Furthermore her lips has no cupids bow. Lastly she "wishes she could have had freckles or beauty marks" as she "finds such to be very unique and beautiful."

Body type: She is tall and has an Hour glass figure. She is naturally heavy chested while her waist is small both by birth and "by the aid of corsets."

Piercings and tattoos: None. Trying to pierce a hole into her would "be a waste of time."

Diet: Vegetarian (mostly). She doesn't mind eating eggs or drinking milk as long as its from trusted farms.

Musical taste: Her taste in music is vast and consist of any genre, from any decade. She doesn't have any favorite band or artist in particular as she doesn't like to place any artist or band "up on a pedestal" as they are "all to be considered talented and should therefore all be equally appreciated".

Fashion sense: Anything from disorted jeans to long ruffled lace skirts. Her most "outraged/scandalous" fashion statement are probably the times when she likes to adjust/modify her corsets so they would fit over jeans and t-shirts. However she doesn't like bold prints or too strong colors, except deep blue or deep red. She wish she could have earrings but as already mentioned: piercing her ears would be a waste of time. She likes wearing necklaces that are simple and not too flashy: anything from simple stone pendants to single colored heavy laced chokers though as for pearls, she has "always found them too mature looking."

Name: Bas (He thinks his mother gave him way too many names, so he prefers to only use the first one.)

Gender: Cis man

Pronouns: He/Him (but he won't correct you if you say they/them.)

Sexuality: Asexual & Aromantic He thinks Romance is ok in movies and books...but "in real life he is good with having family and friends!"

Nationality: The Republic of the Congo.

Skin color: Black "and beautiful" as he would usually say.

Facial features: A rounded face. Bald head he lost his hair due to "some hair...disease?" He doesn't remember what it was called, and "he doesn't really care. Without hair it's easier for him to get ready in the morning and then he can have plenty of time to do fun things!". His nose is wide and short with wide nostrils. He really likes his nose, and the rest of his face! His facial hair is usually scruffy or cleaned shaved. He "tried to grow a moustache, once....and it turned out all patchy so he never wants to do it again!". He has black/dark brown puppy- eyes which according to him means he can "get whatever he wants? No he is probably too old for that trick!" . His eyes have dark circles and a few wrinkles under them but he knows that "in his age being tired is a cool lifestyle, so the dark circles are matching great!".

Body Type: A little on the heavier side with a little portruding tummy, which is alright! He is "exactly how he wants to be and no one can tell him otherwise!"

Piercings and tattoos: Both of his ear lobes are pierced with a metal/silvery earring. He wish he could get tattoos but thinks he "probably wouldn't tolerate that much pain over such a long period of time."

Diet: "Anything goes." He thinks "pasta is boring unless you add some mushroom, a hearty meat sauce and spinach." He thinks "seafood is alright. Shrimps are very good" but to him "nothing beats a well done burger and salty fries!" He thinks that chickens tastes good but that "the source material looks messed up when it runs around and has feathers on it." Basically he thinks all birds are scary and that they "should stay as far away from him as possible!"

Favorite type of music: Bas likes most music but claims that Opera "is the worst." He also thinks that lyrical Jazz that is "too upbeat" sounds "weird and too loud/too confusing." Slow, Classical or electronic music is wonderful if he "wants to relax." He doesn't really appreciate Reggea music too much although "Mark" (Markus) has tried his best to show him "the beauty of it." Soul music is ok, but can get a bit too "screamy/naggy" after a while...

Fashion sense: He loves to wear colorful t- shirts, matched up with a well used, black suit jacket or black, wool coat jacket. Nearly all of his shirts has mostly either vibrant colors or has a cool pattern on them. But it has to be a pattern that is "repetitive and isn't too overwelming". According to himself he "probably doesn't own a single pair of suit pants." In addition to the colorful t-shirts and hoodies; dark or standard colored jeans, comfy shorts and sweatpants is what he "prefers to live in, depending on the season." A hat, preferably a cap worn the "correct way and not backwards" is a "must to protect his head from being burned". He loves colorful hoodies and brown or red scarfs. He doesn't like to wear beanies, because he thinks it "makes him look like the stereotypical black burglar/rapper guy". As for jewelry he doesn't bother to wear any except for the wrist watch he got from his dad, and his standard black or silvery gray earrings. He thinks goldchains are "super corny and he wouldn't be caught dead or alive wearing one! Not even if someone paid him!" As for shoes; regular short laced up leather boots are "easy to wear and they go with anything". Either that or he likes to wear black sneakers, as white sneakers, according to him "would again make him look too much of a rapper guy or some kid trying to impress someone".

Name: Markus E. Weiss and "please don't ever call him "Mark" or "Markie" or any other shortened nicknames as he doesn't appreciate that".

Gender: Male. He says he "doesn't understand the meaning or the need for the word cis. " He also says he "won't understand what 'being trans' means." Hopefully he can be thought otherwise.

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Straight

Nationality: West-German (the former GDR)

Skin color: White

Facial features: He thinks his face is pretty average and oval shaped, especially for "a man in his age". He has a slightly rounded, slightly pointed chin. His blue medium big, slightly down-turned eyes is for the most part behind a pair of silvery steel, squared shaped glasses. He has been told he has very "kind but sad looking eyes". His brown hair that has "gotten lighter with age", is sually sleeked back without any shaved sides. His hair tends to get very wavy the day after he has showered. His nose is slightly downturned with a slightly narrow- rounded tip and he thinks it looks "pretty average just like most of his face". He has pretty straight teeth except for one upper tooth off to the side that is a little shorter than the rest. His ears are a little portruding. His lips are thin, and it makes him look very mischeavious whenever he is lightly smiling.

Body type: "Asymmetrical" and he is "too embarrassed to tell you how/why". Although he believes he is "quite fit for a man of his age he "knows its only a question of time before he gets thinner or gets a belly/tummy just like most men his age if they don't regularly work out".

Piercings and tattoos: None. Because he thinks that "such things doesn't look right. Except for earrings", but for him earrings "belong in the past with his long hair and big sunglasses."

Diet: What he is being served, which is mostly vegetarian food now...unless "there is a special delivery that contains meat in it". He doesn't drink alcohol. He likes a good stew or "anything that is homemade with lots of love and tradition" but all in all he "isn't really picky on trying out new types of food".

Favorite type of music: He mostly listens to classic rock, or 80's rock, although "Soul and Reggea with a meaning has the sound that makes the world go around." He thinks Patti Smith, Pat Benatar and Annie Lennox are "very underrated." Some of his favorite artists includes Patti Smith, Queen, The Doors, David Bowie, The Ramones and The Rolling Stones. He "doesn't really care that much for hip hop, but they are talented in singing fast/rapping, but it just isn't what he would listen to".

Fashion sense: He mostly wears his uniform. Sometimes he wears the black turtle neck without the gray uniform jacket, and pairs this with the gray or navy blue uniform pants or black suit pants. He "probably doesn't own more than one pair of jeans but he swears that velvet bell-bottom pants were everything when he was younger!" He likes to sleep in black or dark gray sweat pants paired with old washed out band t-shirts or single colored (dark blue, white, dark gray or black) long-sleeves. When he is at work he has a silver pocket watch attached to his suitjacket or fastened by the hip at the belt of his suit/uniform pants. He thinks its "practical that the watch can be attached to the belt if it becomes too hot to wear the uniform jacket".)

___________________________________

That was some of the characters , but I'm also adding a little bonus. Richard Z Kay in a fancy halloween costume/sexy vampire bat-costume! I swear this character is always so extra. It's funny how real-life Richard Kruspe is one of my least favorite Rammstein member, but in my fic series he is actually one of my favorite characters and I am going to defend him at any cost! I honestly wish he was real and that we could hang out not just "in my head/imagination".

Name: Richard Zee Kay/ RZK/Richard Z. Kruspe/Richard Zven/Sven Kruspe Landers. (The list could be endless for a diva like him!)

Gender: male, bclaims that "sometimes he is a whole gender for himself that should NOT be messed with and always have his way or isn't "diva" considered a gender?"

Pronouns: He/him/"Katchen/Fab/Herr Fab/Frau Fab/Divalicious😘".

Sexuality: PAULsexual ❤ ("it's ok to be GAY"/fab-sexual)

Nationality: West Germany (former West-Berlin.)

Skin color: White or fake/real tan

Facial features: A very sharp jawline and a sharp chin, that he hates as it "looks way too masculine". He has ususally "neatly plucked brows". His eyes are big and blue but slightly downturned. His hair is naturally brown and thick/wavy but he used to have "awful blonde dreadlocks which wasn't his choice by the way". Nowadays (at the beginning of the story) he mostly keeps his hair short and dyes it black and "unlike your neighbour or your aunt he is a master colorist and knows EXACTLY what he is doing!" He has according to his husband Paul and his best friend Thalia a "charming, slightly boy-ish smile especially after he had his teeth properly cleaned and fixed". Another thing that Thalia and Paul has told him is that "his face is really expressive, especially when he disprooves/shows a disgust or confusion about something". He doesn't like his own nose as "it could have been a lot shorter" but his husband Paul has claimed that "that would probably make him look like Michael Jackson AFTER plastic surgery" so Richard slowly accepted the nose that "the universe gave him." He has thin lips, but according to him, his husband Paul "has never complained...if ya know what he means? 😉"

Body type: Richard "used to be a twink-teen in the 80's and early 90's (he was born in 1973 in my fic series) but has bulked up A LOT since then! 💪" He now (at the beginning of the story) has a strong v-shaped back with back-dimples something Paul seemingly "knows to take advantage of 😉" According to Paul, Richard's broad upper body is "both a turn on and an odd threat". Richard would now describe himself as "a friendly but bossy hunk with an ass that is bigger, more perfect and more plump than yours will ever be!". Further he claims that he "takes great pride in keeping his ass that way" and that "it's reserved for Paul H. Landers anygays so don't you even bother!". Richard describes his chest as "more amazing than whatever cleavage you will ever have." Further he says that "unfortunally he wasn't given a big dick that would match his big attitude", but he also tries to remind himself about how Paul always tells him that he "has a beautiful penis/Schwanz...just the way it is". In other words: Richard's below average dick size doesn't affect his self esteem "as much as it used to before he met Paul" and he claims "he owes this to his wonderful husband who loves him as him ❤".

Diet: "Anything goes as long as HE or any other professionally trained chef has prepared the food, because he used to be a chef before he became a hair stylist and master colorist". He claims that the reason for why he quit as a chef was "as much as he loved making food, it got too warm and stressful in the restaurant-kitchen and that just spiked his anxiety to the max!"). He prefers pasta or pizza and "didn't like soups at first but Paul convinced him and now he is hooked on all kinds of soups just as much as his husband!" He tries to eat as much proteins as he can "without chugging down on protein shakes, and actually if he can avoid having to drink those nasty shakes again and still get bulked up nicely, then that would be perfect!"

Piercings/tattoos: He "used to rock a belly button after he first started dating Paul but it rejected, and yes he is still upset by that." As for jewelry he first "shared one of Paul's silvery or black earrings and thought it was cute that they could wear one, each, until Paul began to nag on him to get it back for the sake of symmetry". Which "gave him the push to save money for another hole in the 2nd ear and finally buy his own earrings". Other than that he has been thinking about "getting a tongue piercing or a brow piercing" and although Paul seems to be "very supportive of the tongue piercing, he thinks Richard first needs to decide an actual SHAPE of his brow before he gets it pierced so sadly it never happened". As for tattoos, Richard doesn't have any but he claims that for a short time he "dead-seriously wanted to have 'Property of Paul L.' or 'Property of Heiko' (Paul's birth name.)" tattooed above his ass, but "Paul talked him out of it". He has also thought about getting a tattoo of a guitar on his wrist or shoulder that would "symbolize that his husband used to be a punk guitarist in a band in the 80's and early 90's". Another tattoo that Richard is still considering is "cool, diagonally aligned black stars on both of his hips."

Favorite type of music: "Paul's moans, laughter and guitar riffs🥰"... KISS. Scorpions. Firehouse "just to mention a few". He says he "loves to listen to any brutal Death Metal song, anything by Nine Inch Nails, Feeling B, Depeche Mode, The Ramones, The Sex Pistols or Danzig whenever he is jogging or lifting weights." He claims to have "always been a fan of 80's and 90's synth pop, goth, and punk and swears that his favorite punk band now is Feeling B" which was Paul's former band who disbanded sometime in the early 90's, but with a last concert in the early 00's. Some other of Richard's favorite bands/artists includes Sisters of Mercy. The Mission. London After Midnight. The Lords of The Church. Death. The Misfits. The Clash.Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. Tool. Slayer. Kreator. DIO. Lamb of God. Accept. White Snake. Nazareth. Meshugga... but "the list could go on and on but it's mostly guys with deep and kinda depressive voices.. " After he started dating Paul, Richard got into David Bowie and the industrial metal band Hindenburg" (although in your universe/the real world, they are known as Rammstein) while Thalia got him into liking Eisbrecher and darker techno.

Fashion sense: "The best!💋" according to himself; no matter what Paul, Thalia or anyone else tells him.

[borahaerhy]

Gone (9) - jjk

Summary: You and your childhood best friend, Jungkook, have grown apart over the years, although you still have the same overbearing fun-loving bestie, Aria, that really wants her best friends talking again, something neither of you really want to be apart of until Aria goes missing, and the only other person that could help you find her is the one you've spent years avoiding.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: Best friends to enemies (ish?) to lovers, High School AU, eventual smut, slow burn

Warnings: What actually happened the night Aria's mom died, Some unaliving, some blood, Aria drops a lamp and probably wishes that she didn't, Y/n is OUT OF IT, and also not at all the main character rn, Some people get arrested, an FBI raid, Y/n blatantly disregarding anything an authority figure says.

Word Count: 2.7K

Note: In honor of Jin joining the military, I thought I'd get my shit together and actually finish this chapter.

I'll have an actual update posted tomorrow about where I've been and hopefully, I'll be getting a schedule started to make sure I'm posting somewhat normally again.

Barely proofread, if there's a mistake no there's not.

Previous | Next

“Are you fucking kidding me, Carl? How do we owe ten thousand dollars to a fucking cop?”  

“Where the fuck do you think I’ve been getting your drugs, huh? Do you think I just found that duffle bag?” The screams got louder as what they were screaming about had gotten more and more muffled in the ears of Aria. She sat up in her bedroom on the second floor of the house, her parents arguing just at the bottom of the stairs that her bedroom door was adjacent to.  

“So you stole from a fucking cop?!”  

“I didn’t steal shit! I went to him with a business proposition, and I just haven’t exactly carried out my end of the deal yet,” Lillian scoffed, running her fingers through her thin hair as she walked away from her husband, anger consuming her.  

“So, long story short, you borrowed from a cop knowing full fucking well you couldn’t pay him back?”  

“Fuck, Lil, I fucking guess, yeah!” The screaming resumed, the two of them at the other’s throats so loudly that they couldn’t even hear the glass breaking in the back of the house.  

Bennett had only coincidentally picked the night the two of them had been at each other’s throats. In fact, he didn’t think anyone was home, which was why he broke in. The car wasn’t in the driveway, none of the lights were on, all the curtains drawn and all the light on the porch was off; something they did on purpose to avoid the confrontation of Bennett showing up and asking for his money back.  

As he fell through the window and onto the carpeted floor, he cursed himself as the voices of Carl and Lillian filled the house. He stood from his position and brushed himself off, before he pulled the curtains back over to cover up the mess he’d made.  

He pulled the gun from the waist band of his jeans and began walking slowly toward the source of the yelling. He peered through the cracked door and spotted at the end of the hallway a woman who he had not recognized. She had been the one screaming at Carl; the man that owed him money. He opened the door wide enough for him to fit, thankful that the creakiness was only apparent when they were at their loudest points.  

“We barely have thirty dollars to our name, how the fuck are we supposed to get ten fucking thousand dollar-” Before she could finish her sentence, Bennett grabbed her from behind, gun to her head and hand covering her mouth. Carl’s eyes went wide as he saw the very man he owed money too how holding his wife hostage.  

“You’re gonna listen very closely, Carl,” No one dared make a move, Lillian had stopped struggling as soon as she felt the cool steel of the gun to her temple. Carl nodded softly, beckoning Bennett to continue. “How much of the drugs do you have left?” Carl only swallowed at the question, eyes wide as they swiftly moved back and forth between the pleading eyes of Lillian, and the cold ones of Bennett.  

Bennett cocked the gun, as if a threat to Carl saying “if you don’t respond now, my gun will do the talking”.  

“None,” He spat out as fast as he could, taking a very small shuffle forward with a hand outstretched, as if trying to reach out to his wife. Bennett took a step back, pulling Lillian along with him. She stumbled back into his body, his grip on her mouth strong enough to keep her standing until she was able to rebalance herself. “We did it all, we don’t have any of it left,”  

“Do you have anything of value in this shithole? Any jewelry, electronics-”  

Carl very swiftly took off his wedding band and held it out for Bennett to look at. “That it?” Carl nodded, his wife not even having hers; they’d pawned it seven months ago. “How much did you pay for it?” Carl swallowed.  

“Ninety-nine dollars,”  

“Ninety-” Bennett sighed, eyes clenched in tension as the smell of cigarette smoke permeating off of Lillian’s hair was beginning to nauseate him. “Jesus, you got any fucking kids?” The color drained form both Carl and Lillian’s faces, a horrible fear striking them both down to their core as Lillian’s eyes darted toward the stairs.  

“No,” He answered almost too fast. “No, we tried, but we were never able to have any. Let’s strike up a deal, huh? Let’s start a payment plan and-and you can charge me interest. I’ll end up giving you twenty thousand total, double what you lost. What do you say?” Bennett’s face turned to a scowl, pissed at even the thought. He had people that he owed money to, he couldn’t take a payment plan.  

“Carl, just shut the fuck up for a se-”  

A loud bang from the top floor startled them. A loud bang that had been caused by Aria knocking over her lamp. She bumped into her bedside table as she was trying to get a better look out the window, to see if you were there yet, and her lamp fell. Her heavy, glass lamp fell so hard onto the wood floors that it made everyone in the house jump.  

Bennett included, though he jumped a lot more than anyone else. His hand squeezed the trigger of the gun a little too hard, a little harder than he had intended and another, much louder bang rang through the house, and the woman he was holding suddenly fell limp in his arms.  

She slumped to the ground, covered in her own blood as Carl fell to the ground on top of her, holding her in his chest screaming her name, screaming for someone to go get help. Seconds later, siren’s could be heard going off in the distance, along with the sound of his phone ringing.  

He ran from the house back the way he came, dropping the gun in the bushes as he hurried away seconds before you and the cops showed up.  

He ran back to his car, took off his bloody jacket, and drove up to the crime scene, entering it as if he was just a cop that got called in to the scene. The gun he was able to take care of, but the bullet casing of the round he fired was never found.  

- 

“I’m sorry,” Your voice was shaky and much softer than you had intended as you finally were able to bring yourself to speak. “Jungkook’s blood?” So many questions were screaming, loudly ringing in your head but the only thing you could even manage was to clarify that it was really his.  

“We ran some tests, and no doubt, it’s his. There was a lot, but there was also a trail of it that led to the garage where it suddenly stopped, presumably from when they put him into a car. From what we can gather, he got shot, likely in the abdomen, and was still alive when they took him from the scene,” She paused, watching you as you fell back into your seat. Almost all of the muscles in your body had gone limp as your eyes started blankly at the cheeseburger in front of you. You weren’t able to comprehend the emotions going through you, all feeling having left your body as you tried to comprehend the words spoken to you, but were completely unable to.  

“We don’t know where he or Aria are, but we are doing everything in our power to find them. We’ve checked all his listed residences, but none of them are anywhere in the area. We have officers posted everywhere, and everyone at the police station he worked at has been made aware of his crimes; we even had to make a couple arrests from in the station because of their affiliation with him.”  

She kept droning on for what felt like hours, but you never managed to pick up anything she’d said after “he got shot”. She left at some point, you have no idea when, but could assume she left once she noticed you’d checked out.  

You sat emotionless at the table, completely unmoving as you sat and looked at the unfinished food sat in front of you. Nothing was anything. No thoughts ran through your head and no movements needed to have been made except for the slow in and exhale of your lungs, and the occasional blink of your heavy eyelids to keep your eyes from drying out.  

You said nothing, did nothing, thought nothing until everything fell onto you all at once.  

Fear hit you in one powerful swift motion; as if someone had hit you in the chest and knocked all the air out of you. You were gasping for breath as you clutched your chest, leaning as far forward in the chair as possible, silent sobs ripping through you as your whole body began to shake.  

You had always been afraid, sure. There was always something to be scared of, or to be anxious about. There was never a moment in your life where you felt completely calm; completely at peace. You’d always been anxious. The fact that you always had been and always would be afraid was something you’d grown to accept a long time ago.  

But this?  

This was a fear you’d never even come close to feeling.  

Even the past week that you’d been more terrified than you’d ever been in your life was nothing compared to the fear that consumed you right now.  

At least when Aria was missing, you could do something to try to find her. You had Jungkook. You were doing something to get her back, and you were there to protect him, and he to protect you.  

But now you sat alone in a cold sterile room, the pane of glass reflecting your own image back at you was taunting you. You’re here. You can’t help. You’re the only one that’s safe; the only one whose whereabouts are known.  

They only one alive, for all you know.  

And all you could do, was sit alone in a room, waiting for news on the only two people that ever mattered in your life.  

- 

You sat alone in that damned room for hours at least, days probably, weeks even possibly, you had no idea. Time was a concept that had completely left you at this point. The only things that you could think of were your friends and whether or not you'd have to bury them.

Your pulse had grown almost unbearably loud in your ears, the only noise audible otherwise being the occasional muffled door closing from on the other side of the wall.

Your food had long since been eaten, and after Kendrick had taken away your trash and brought you a water, no one had been in to see you.

You sat at the table unmoving for hours, occasionally adjusting slightly to relieve your aching spine in the uncomfortable chair.

Jungkook was dead.

There's nothing else that was more apparent in your mind. You'd been sitting here for so long that they'd already found his body and buried him. He was shot, strangled, stabbed, drugged, hanged even. Gutted laying across the basement floor as Aria sat and watched, her voice raw from screaming out in fear, tears stained on her cheeks.

There were hundreds of possibilities running through your mind, but the most prominent ones had always been the most gruesome worst-case scenarios.

Suddenly your door was open, and Kendrick was leaning halfway in, a large commotion going on behind her as you furrowed your brow, trying to see behind her.

"We found your friends," She paused, the smallest of smiles on her face as she waited for you to have any reaction. Your eyes began to well up with tears, relieved to hear something, anything. No matter if it's good or bad, it'll be over soon and you'll have something new to worry about. "You coming with?"

You quickly stood and followed her out of the dastardly room, walking swiftly behind her as people rushed around you.

Less than a minute later, you were in the front seat of a squad car she was driving, sirens blaring as you both sped down the road. Neither of you bothered putting on your seatbelt, both far too focused on what was about to happen to worry about your own personal safety.

The longest and yet the shortest car ride of your life ended abruptly, as Kendrick slammed on the brakes and slid into position, filling in the last open space around a house that was now completely surrounded - no way out.

"Stay here, I'll let you know when it's safe to come out," You nodded and she got out, pulling her gun out of its holster and getting into position as a group of officers began breaking down the front door.

Aria was immediately on alert, the loud banging of the door being broken down shaking the house around her. Her first thought was that it was Bennett again, probably hurting or killing Jungkook.

But then there was another loud bang.

And another.

Jay was in the room with her and was already on high alert before the door was being broken down. He moved slowly over to the window and peered out of it, his heart dropping to his stomach as he saw the police cars and ambulances completely surrounding the house.

The worried look that spread across Jay's face met the tear-filled smile on Aria's. This was all over, just a few more minutes, and she'd be free.

Jungkook's thoughts closely matched Aria's initial ones as he sat in the basement, just waiting for something to happen. The banging continued and his anxiety only grew, not being able to see anything to clue him in on what was going on around him.

It didn't take long for his anxiety to subside, as the police broke in, FBI agents swarming the house and flooding into every room. Everyone was arrested and brought out one by one and set into separate vans, as more officers untied the two hostages held in different corners of the house.

You watched as Bennett, along with several other men get escorted out of the house, handcuffs on their wrists and fear plastered on their faces.

Your eyes however never left the front door for very long, waiting for when they'd bring out your friends - your family.

You didn't wait for Kendrick to tell you it was okay to get out of the car. You didn't even wait when she yelled out your name, or when one of the twenty other officers called after you as well.

Aria was out of the house.

Aria was safe.

You ran as fast as you could, through the hoards of officers, and as soon as she saw you, she started running too.

You meet in the tightest hug you're sure anyone on the planet had ever been in before, falling to the ground as you sobbed in each other's arms.

You were pulled up by some officers, Aria needing to be checked out by one of the paramedics at the very least before anything else happened.

You went with her, standing a few feet away as they examined her. You turned your gaze back to the front door as Jungkook was being wheeled out, laying flat on a gurney.

You moved toward him, only to be stopped by one of the paramedics.

"We need to get him to a hospital, you can speak to him once-"

"Y/n," Your eyes left the paramedics and landed on Jungkook. He looked exhausted and pale, covered in a layer of sweat, with the biggest smile you'd ever seen spread across his face. His hand reached out to you, and you pushed past everyone to grab it.

"You're okay," You couldn't stop smiling while looking at him, alive and safe.

"I promised you I would be, didn't I?" You gripped onto each other as he tried to pull off a cocky smirk. The gurney stopped moving as they situated him to get loaded up into the ambulance as you took the opportunity to push the hair from his face, letting your hand rest on his cheek as you both looked back and forth between each other's eyes.

With all the strength he could muster up, Jungkook pulled you down to him, your lips meeting his briefly before you were pulled back, and he was loaded up into the ambulance.

You watched as they climbed in after him and closed the doors.

"C'mon, hon; I'll drive you to the hospital."

-

Note: ffs FINALLY. There will be another chapter, don't worry loves, but I'm glad I finally got this one to a place where I actually feel proud of it.

Taglist: @koobsessed@mwitsmejk@roxy1205@yoon2jk@pamzn@drmrastraea@bbl32@softforpj@lpgirl2324@astoriasx@mooncuddler@theaufanartist@petalsofink @unsureofwhathappens

[hellowhisperingstars]

The Past

Summary: Eddie is visited by the first Ghost and sees his past.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Words: 4K

Warnings: Child neglect, death of a parent, Y/N use, ghosts, cursing. Let me know if I've forgotten anything.

A/N: I used Miriam Margolyes as the face for The Ghost of Christmas Past, but please feel free to see her however you wish! I tried not to describe her too much to keep her more neutral. Please let me know what you think!

Previous - Series Masterlist - Forward

1:00 AM

Eddie woke to the sound of dishes clinking and muttering coming from his small kitchen. Wiping a hand down his face he turned and looked at the time. One. Impossible he felt like he had been sleeping for at least a few hours, or enough to sober up. Sitting up he pushed the covers from his waist and grabbed a shirt from the messy floor of his room, pulling it on over his tattooed torso. He stopped moving as the sounds happened again. He was sure he locked the door when he got home. He lived alone. Who the fuck was in his apartment?

Reaching out his hand grabbed for the wooden bat that sat in the corner behind his bedroom door. He had stolen it from Harrington after the whole almost dying in the Upside Down thing. Gripping the bat tightly in his hand he pushed his room door open slightly with his foot as he peeked out into his living room. Shuffling. Adjusting his hold on the bat he took a deep breath as he charged from the room a war cry filling the space as he rushed the intruder. Bat lifted high in the air. 

They screamed, he screamed back, but now for a different reason. Standing in his kitchen was his old neighbor from the trailer park, Mrs. Dunlap. She used to watch him when Wayne had the day shifts when he was younger. She couldn't be here; she died when he was sixteen. But she looked exactly the same as he remembered her, graying white hair, the wrinkles around her eyes, even her little green cardigan was the same. Eyes wide, Eddie stared at the small plump woman. "What the fuck?"

"Watch your language in front of me young man." The Ghost warned, pointing a chubby finger at him. He blinked a bit, even her accent was the same, British but a bit more watered down from living in the Midwest for so long. He was always curious about how she got to be in Hawkins and she only ever smiled and simply said “love”. 

“Sorry,” He said out of habit. The bat still held high. “How are you here? You're dead.” 

“Did you not listen to your mother?” Mrs. Dunlap huffed as she walked around the counter towards him. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. The first of three to visit you tonight. I thought this form would give you some comfort, you seemed to care a lot about this woman when you were younger. Now we don't have all night, take my hand.”

“I'm still faded,” Eddie said, dropping his arms, the bat hitting the ground with a thud as he rubbed his eyes. “This is the worst fucking trip I've ever been on. It was just weed, what the actual hell..”

“Now listen to me, Edward James Munson,” The woman snapped, her hands on her hips. “I wasted quite a bit of magic sobering you up and we are starting to run very behind schedule. Now take my hand.” 

He looked at her hand for a moment before he shook his head. Turning away from the scene. “Uh, no. I am obviously having some kind of breakdown and don't exactly feel like taking a stroll down memory lane with a Ghost wearing the face of my old babysitter.”  

“Didn't your mother say to trust us?” She asked gently, holding her hand out for him again. “We just want to help.”

Eddie stopped in his tracks and looked over his tense shoulder at her, eyes narrowed. “You can help by going away.”

“Can’t I’m afraid.” She said walking closer to him her hands clasped in front of her. “I have a job to do and we are going to do it whether you like it or not.”

Clenching his fists at his sides he turned to the lady he knew but didn’t know. “I’m still not even convinced this isn’t some insane drug induced hallucination. So all I want to do is sleep and forget I keep seeing dead people.”

Quickly she reached her hand out and pinched him harshly on the arm making him flinch back in pain. A quick “ow!” left him as he rubbed his arm. “Oh look you’re awake! Now come on!”

Grabbing his hand she held on tightly as he tried to pull it away from her. But the room tilted, spinning, faster and faster until he was dizzy. His stomach flipping as the scenery changed, he had to close his eyes and he stumbled as he felt the world just stop. With a pleasant sound she let go of his hand. “Ah, here we are then.”

“I’m gonna hurl.” He said, as his arms went around his stomach as he stumbled behind the nearest trash cans he could find. Eddie started to heave, his stomach having nothing in it but cheap whiskey, he found it strange how nothing came up. Coughing, he spit the extra saliva from his mouth, swiping the back of his hand against his lips. 

“Travel is a bit much the first time,” Mrs. Dunlap said as she watched him. “It’ll pass.”

“Great,” He groaned as he stood back up shaking his dizziness away. Letting out a burp, Eddie made a face as he looked around him. “Where the hell are we?”

“You don’t recognize it?” She asked as she gestured around them. It was an old area with run down homes framing the street on both sides. Snow covered the ground, the leafless branches of dead trees and bushes sticking out of the white powder like hands waiting to claw at him. The street was empty except for them. A glow caught his eye as he looked up at a window. Inside he saw a small family, just two people, a woman and a little boy. Walking towards the window he looked inside. He watched as the woman lifted up the child to hang a homemade ornament on the small, frankly sad, Christmas tree.

“Mom..” He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. That was him and his mother. Taking his eyes off the two he glanced around at the decor of the home through the frosted glass. “This is the house in Oklahoma...”

“Your childhood home.” Mrs. Dunlap said as she moved up next to him to look in the window as well. Tapping him on the back he lurched forward as they moved quickly, magically, through the wall, so they were now inside in the home with the two others. “For what little you had your mother sure knew how to make a lovely home. What was her name?”

“Her name was Louise. The home wasn’t much but it was ours. She always said ‘it wasn’t about what was in the home, but who.’” Eddie said as he looked around. He barely remembered this home, just small snippets of memory. Snuggling down by the fireplace in the winter, the heat from the flames keeping them warm since the home didn’t have a heater, helping with dinner when he could, his mother letting him rip apart lettuce for the salads that he barely touched, more interested in the other parts of the meal. Playing outside in the summer, the sprinkler attached to the hose to keep them cool. He remembered her laugh. Smiling slightly he turned to look at his younger self, his little hands curled around his mothers neck as she swayed them to the music that was playing on the record player. 

"How old were you?" Mrs. Dunlap asked as came up behind him. 

Eddie shrugged as he thought. "Probably around five?"

“Where was your father?” The Ghost asked as she looked around, a beat up couch, a broken recliner that was no longer able to be laid back. A banged up coffee table held a glass of milk and a chipped plate of homemade cookies. 

“Who knows.” Eddie shook his head as he watched his mother. He had just seen her in his home but that already felt like a decade ago. “He wasn't around much when I was younger. He’s always been a dead beat, he would come and then screw off after a while. We wouldn’t see him for months at a time. Then he would slide back in trying to play house until he got bored and would leave. It would hurt Mom every single time, but she always let him back in.”

“Not the most stable chap, ay?” 

“No. Absolutely not.” He watched as his mother pulled away to look at his cherub face. 

“Who wants to open a present?” His mother asked with a large smile as little Eddie threw his hand in the air.

“Me! Me!”

“You? Really?” She said with wide eyes, shock playing on her face. It was all of two seconds before a smile broke out and she placed him on the ground. Kneeling down by the tree she tucked her robe under her carefully. “Let’s see.. Which one should you open?”

“That one!” He pointed at a flat square one. 

“This one?” She asked as she grabbed it looking at it skeptically as she moved it around in her hands. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Little Eddie nodded, excitement bubbling out of him as she handed it to him. His little feet tapping on the floor.

“Alright! Rip it open, Munchkin!” His mother cheered as paper flew around them. She laughed as he looked up at her with a grin. 

“A book!” Holding it out to her he crawled into her lap. “Read it! Read it!”

“Okay, okay!” She laughed, taking the book from him and making sure he was sitting comfortably. “Then we have to go to bed or Santa won't come!”

He nodded enthusiastically as she opened the book. Clearing her throat she started to read.  "'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house; Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;"

“She loved you very much,” Mrs. Dunlap said as she watched the two. “You can tell. How old were you when she died?”

Tears pricked at the back of his eyes as he turned away from the memory before him coughing to try and get a semblance of control back. “She got sick not long after this, I had just turned six when she died. I remember her being in the hospital, the heart monitor scared me. Hearing her heart beat like that was.. unsettling. She had cancer and then got pneumonia. She was already so weak from the chemo that it didn't take long for her to…” 

“Did you celebrate Christmas that year?” 

Eddie shook his head. “No. This was the last good Christmas I had until I went to Waynes when I was eleven. Dad had no interest in holidays, so he sold all of our things to pay off some debts he acquired. Moved us out of Oklahoma and into some broken down apartment just outside of Missouri. I was able to save up some money that year with coins I found on the street. Those all went into a piggy bank I had hidden from him. The day before Christmas I had just enough to buy a box of candy she liked so I could remember her.”

“A hard candy Christmas.” 

Eddie nodded and then cleared his throat again. “Awesome, are we done? Can we get out of here?”

“We have a few more stops.” She said hold her hand out for him to take again.

This time he went willingly. “If I have to do this… can I at least make a request?”

The Ghost looked up at him curious. No one has ever requested something so sincerely before, it was always through anger or tears.

“No more memories of her..”

Mrs. Dunlap looked up at him and nodded sadly. The quiet whisper of her voice reached him easily as she said, “No more of her.”

The world didn’t tilt much this time, his stomach still felt off though. Closing his eyes he waited until he felt the world stop spinning again. The sound of his mothers voice a slowly quieting echo as she read the story to young Eddie and music started to take its place, it wasn’t christmas music but the big band jazz that Wayne liked to listen too. He opened his eyes to a new scene that flickered into existence. This time he knew where he was right away. The trailer. It was exactly how it always was before the Upside Down destroyed it. The mugs and hats on the walls, the old couch and recliner, even the fold up bed in the corner that Wayne slept on when he gave Eddie his room. A small tabletop christmas tree was nicely decorated sitting on the two seat dining table by the front door. 

The spinning of two dancing bodies filled his view as he saw a younger him and you twirl around the room, laughing the whole time like a bunch of children. Eddie watched as he pushed you away just to spin you back in, bopping around to the music without a care in the world. It was obvious neither of you knew how to dance but it didn’t matter. Seeing you laugh like that made him smile. He’s always been weak for your laugh.

“Now this looks much happier!” Mrs. Dunlap clapped as she watched the two dance.

Hearing sounds from the kitchen over the music, Eddies smiled widened as he looked at his Uncle. He was a few years younger, not much different then he was now maybe just a little more hair on his already balding head. He walked up to the older man as he stirred something in a pot. “Wayne.”

“Your Uncle.” The Ghost nodded as she walked around the trailer. “He took you in after your father went to jail. He raised you?”

“He’s more like a dad than mine ever was.” 

“Hot chocolate’s ready, kids!” Wayne yelled as he walked from the kitchen to grab a few mugs from the wall. He had specific ones he was looking for, ones that he assigned to certain people. Wayne smirked as he moved back into the kitchen to dispense the hot chocolate into the mugs.

The two stopped dancing and you pushed Eddie back into the recliner to get to the kitchen first. The over exaggerated fall he did made you cackle before he was up and coming after you, making you hurry to the kitchen and the safety of Wayne who just chuckled with a shake of his head. 

“Careful it’s hot,” Wayne said as he handed you a mug full of hot chocolate. 

Carefully you lifted the mug up to see the design on it smiling as you saw two little gray mice wearing sunglasses and sunbathing on a beach. “Oh my god,” You laughed as you looked at it. “That’s so cute!”

“And who’s this?” The old woman said as she got close to you, looking at your happy face.

“That’s Y/N,” Eddie said as he followed you into the living room watching as you took a seat on the floor waiting for Eddie and Wayne to join you with their own mugs of cocoa. “This was our first Christmas together as friends. Her family had just moved to town and she was finishing senior year at Hawkins High, this was my first senior year. I asked her to be my girlfriend a few months after this.” 

“Why isn’t she with her family?”

“Her parents went to her Aunts house in Indianapolis and they don’t exactly get along so she chose to stay home. Wayne invited her over so she wouldn’t be alone.”

“That was nice of him.” Mrs. Dunlap said as she watched the Uncle and nephew walk into the living room to join you, Wayne sitting on the couch while the younger Eddie sat on the floor next to you putting his Garfield mug on the table as he set up the pieces of the board game they were going to play. 

“You can't cheat this time Eds,” Wayne said as he got settled. 

“I never cheat!” Eddie said his hand on his chest like he had been shot. “How dare you. I thought you knew me better than that Wayne!”

“I’ve seen you take money from the bank, son!” His Uncle chuckled as he placed the money in bundles to the side.

“Oh Monopoly,” You laughed as you looked at the tiny metal pieces. The scotty dog is between two of your fingers. “Wanna end this friendship before it even starts?”

Wayne laughed even more as Eddie looked over at her. “Nah, just wanted to see how you react to losing. Kinda wanna see if you are going to be one of those people that flip over tables.”

You give him a side eyed smirk. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. But I don’t intend on losing.”

“She won,” Eddie said with a small laugh. “She kicked both of our asses, most of the board was under her control. The railroads and the red and orange properties, all of it. Wayne told me to marry her.” 

Mrs. Dunlap laughed as she watched the game start. “She seems fun.”

“She is.” Eddie nodded as he stared at you with soft eyes. “I miss her.”

“But you pushed her away. You pushed them all away.” 

They watched as the three people faded away until it was just you and Eddie standing by the kitchen. Swallowing a lump in his throat Eddie watched as you pleaded with him, his eyes landing on the bandage on your forehead. This was only about two days after the brick incident. This was the day he broke up with you. After two years of dating and going through the hell of the Upside Down, the hospital, the trial, you were by his side for all of it and he waited until Christmas Eve to break your heart.

"This isn't working Y/n…" Eddie muttered as he looked at you.

“So you’re just… what?,” You sighed, tears in your eyes. “Breaking up with me?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I am...” Eddie said as he crossed his arms trying to look unbothered by this situation as he leaned on the counter of the kitchen. It did bother him. A lot. He didn’t want to do this but he had to for your safety and the safety of everyone else. This town was not going to break them like they were trying to break him.

“You don’t mean that.” You say quietly, the tears finally breaking through your lashes to run down your cheeks. Ever since he almost died in the Upside Down you’ve been afraid to leave his side. Afraid that one day he would just disappear, that you would turn around and he would be gone. Now he’s running away from you.

“No, I do...” He said as he looked away from you for a moment, steeling himself for what he had to do. He had to break your heart. He had to make you hate him. To protect you. Biting the inside of his cheek he finally made eye contact with you. “Almost dying gave me a lot to think about and I realized that I don’t love you. Not anymore. Probably haven’t for a while.”

“You’re lying.” 

“I’m not.” Eddie said, shaking his head at you as he pushed off the counter and grabbed a bag from one of the dining room chairs. “Here.. your things. Let me know if I missed anything. But I think this is best for both of us. It would be cruel of me to string you along.”

Snatching the bag from his hand you glared at him, your tears now a mix of heartbreak and anger. “I love you. And I don’t believe you, I know you still love me, you’re just a scared little boy who’s hurt and can’t admit you need help. If all of this is because some asshole threw a brick and you feel like you need to protect me, then we need to have a very serious conversation. When you get tired of hiding, you know where to find me.”

Both Eddies flinched as you slammed the metal door of the trailer behind you. Eddie watched himself as he took in a stuttering breath, there were voices from outside that made him look towards the door again. He knew what was about to happen.

Wayne walked in a bag full of things in his hand. Looking at Eddie curiously, he put the bag down on the coffee table. “What’s happened?” Wayne asked as he walked closer to Eddie. “Why did Y/N just run out of here crying?”

“I broke up with her.” 

“Why would you do something as stupid as that?! You’re crazy about that girl!”

“Not anymore. Just to let you know I’m moving out. I found an apartment in town close to the record shop. You’ll have your room back next week.”

“Eddie,” Wayne started to say but he was cut off when his nephew shook his head. 

“It’s better this way,” He huffed as he started down the hallway to pack up his room. No point in waiting for the last minute.

“Talk to me, son.” His Uncle called as he followed him. “What’s this all about?”

“If I’m not around you all of you can just lead normal lives. That’s what I want. That’s what this is about!”

“Ed-”

“I know people say things to you, Wayne. I’ve heard it. Seen the looks they give everyone, because you know me. Someone threw a brick at Y/N when she was leaving work two days ago! The doctor said if it had been two inches over it could have hit her temple and caused some kind of brain trauma. She’s lucky she only walked away with a stitches and a concussion. I can’t watch the people I love be hurt like that because of me! Not anymore…” Eddie said as he turned to look at his uncle, shaking his head before he turned around walking into his room, closing the door and locking it behind him.

“Eddie!” Wayne called knocking on the door trying the doorknob before he just leaned on the frame, hoping his kid would listen to him. “Let’s talk about this!”

Eddie looked away from the scene, his chest aching with pain as he glanced up at the Ghost. 

“I can’t see anymore.” Shaking his head he gave her pleading eyes. “Just take me home. Please… just take me home. I can’t…”

“My time is almost up...” Holding her hand out to him, she watched as he took it slowly and closed his eyes before the world started to tilt once more. He was more prepared for it this time. Feeling the world spin, it was like being on a roller coaster, and then just as suddenly it stopped he opened his eyes slowly, glad to see that he was back in his own small apartment away from the terrible memories. Letting go of her hand he crossed his arms around his chest as he walked away from her. “You still have two more ghosts to see tonight.”

“No,” Eddie said, shaking his head, going to sit on his couch, putting his face in his hands. “No more ghosts.” 

“You don’t have a choice.” The Ghost said as she looked at Edde with a sad smile on her face. She had started to fade just like his mother had. 

Eddie looked up to say something to her but when he looked to where she was standing, she was gone leaving him alone again in his home. Sniffing, he let out a breath as he thought about what he just saw. His chest still ached. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and laid down curling up on his couch and closed his eyes. If he had to deal with two more ghosts he sure as hell was going to try and get some sleep in between them.

[separatist-apologist]

Will you explain Ariana's origins though?

Fine. A little Separatist-Apologist lore.

Back in May of 2021, I (new to the fandom), decided I wanted to write an elucien fanfiction. I knew almost nothing about the fandom and at that point had read like, 3 total fics across the different Lucien/Elain ships just kind of getting a feel for things. I knew two things for certain- I wanted Vassa to be Elain's friend, and I wanted Lucien to have a reckoning with his family.

And so I started Call It What You Want To

I knew I wanted Elain to have a Day Court friend and I wanted a reason to keep Eris around in later chapters, and so I very lazily dreamt up Arina. Here she is, for the first time ever, on chapter 6:

She took a breath. She could figure it out. Elain was certain there was more to her than pretty dresses and dancing at parties. She stood, prepared to find Lucien and force him watch her try on clothes all day when a soft knock interrupted her plans. Elain opened the door and found Helion, utterly shirtless and in a white kilt embroidered with shimmering gold, looking down at her with a too-bright grin for how early it was. Next to him was perhaps the most beautiful woman Elain had ever seen. Her golden skin rivaled that of the domes she’d seen on the palace itself, though it somehow paled when Elain took in her long, shiny blonde hair falling in a glossy sheet to her waist. Her meadow green eyes were peering back at Elain with open, unabashed curiosity.

One of Helion’s lovers, Elain decided, soaking in the woman’s bright blue dress. The hem cut to her mid-thigh and the strap twisted over one flawless shoulder, making her tan seem more prominent, more beautiful.

“Elain, you’re awake,” Helion interrupted Elain’s obvious ogling.

Elain nodded, turning her attention back to the High Lord.

“I planned to give you a tour today, but I’ve been detained so I thought I’d leave you in the very capable hands of one of my best scholars, Arina. She’s going to show you around, answer any questions, and generally make you feel welcome.”

Arina nodded solemnly.

I don't think she has a terrible amount of depth in that fic, and her and Eris mostly happen outside the periphery of the story. Originally, Elain had two female friends and I scrapped the other because I was losing track of all my characters. So she stayed, which kept Eris coming back, which was important given he later kidnaps Elain. Back then there weren't all these Eris ships to choose from.

And I HATED Azriel back then. If you re-read my earliest works, I almost never include or mention him, and if I do he's a massive (silent) bastard. I don't know if Azris was even kicking around back then but part of the why arina/why not Azris is I don't like Azriel. Occasionally, in a modern AU or when Fitz writes him with Eris but in canon and in most other works, he is just not it for me.

I did write Neris, later on- No One Likes A Mad Woman but that was pretty short-lived for me.

Anyway, when I was working on I Know Places, I was lamenting how I missed her and wished I had done more with her, and someone sent an anon saying. she could come back. And that was all the encouragement I needed. She has been in every fic I've written in which Eris is featured (minus the aforementioned Neris), because I like her. And she's fairly popular with the people who consistently read what I write, AND for those of us who have been hanging out the whole time, it feels like a group project almost.

And I guess lastly, my OC's are decently popular and creating and utilizing her convinced me to work more on my own original writing.

[ddonovanrp]

Stumbling into the bedroom I couldn't help the slam of the door behind me. I was doing well enough to carry her, legs wrapped around my waist and arms around my neck. We were both way too drunk to be doing what we were both wanting so badly at this point. It had been two weeks since I'd last gotten a chance to relieve some of this pent up frustration. It'd been two weeks since I'd last gotten to forget you. This girl, I'd missed her name, was all but willing to help me. Either coming to my rescue or her own need to escape I was unsure. Frankly, I didn't care. I went into that bar with a mission. My mission was to forget the feel of your lips against my skin. How soft and frail you felt in my much larger arms. To forget how you whispered my name the night we finally made love, how the moon was the only light in my room, casting such a soft glow on your already beautiful face. But tonight the girl helping me forget you wasn't anything like you. Her waist a little narrower, her thighs weren't as curvy. She's taller than you. Brown eyes and blonde hair. The exact opposite of the woman I wish were here with me instead. The exact opposite of what I was currently envisioning, my eyes closed-head against the wall as she kissed her way down my bare chest making a sloppy trail down my stomach until she was on her knees in front of me.

I threaded my fingers into her hair like I've dreamed of doing to yours. Even her hair is thinner than yours. Nothing about this girl is right and I know that. But I can't have you, so this is the next best thing. I think.. Drowning my sorrows every night in the bottom of a bottle of jack, I've made peace with my demons. My sins an everyday routine now. This is just one of the many.

Finally, I pull her from the floor and press my lips roughly against hers, taking her mouth as I wish I could do yours. Walking backwards in the dark until I feel her fall back onto the mattress, I stop at the foot of the bed. Pulling the thick band of leather from the loops that were once around my waist, I throw it into the corner along with my jeans, once I get wiggled out of them. I'd already lost my boots somewhere down the hallway; I'm sure my shirt is there somewhere as well. Being totally free now, I slide down onto the bed with her and let her kiss where ever she wanted. I know I had to be covered in left over lipstick but at this point I don't even care. I'm rock hard and throbbing to the point of pain, thinking about all the things I want to do with you. How badly I've wished, hoped, and even prayed to a god I don't believe in that someway, somehow there was a chance in hell for us.

Instead, I let you live your life. The life I'm so far beneath I still question my own sanity when thinking back to our brief time together. Was it even real? Yes. It had to have been real for me to remember you so vividly....right? You are real, right?

This drunken girl is straddling my lap, doing the best she can to please me. Little does she know, in my head she's not who's making me moan. That pleasure is yours, Baby. I can only stay this way for a few more minutes before the room begins to spin around me and I have to flip over; me on top. She's on her knees in front of me now. I can say I couldn't ever imagine taking you this way. I'd want to see your face as I sank into you each time. With her, seeing her face just makes me feel guilty. Like the piece of shit I already know I am. This girl deserves better than to be in your shadow, even if she doesn't know it. No one knows. No one can know, or it would ruin your reputation. Being with the VP of an outlaw bike club..that's not what you need on your resume, that's for sure. For this girl, when she leaves my clubhouse in the morning she'll most likely never see me again. Her rep is safe, but for you? I don't think I could ever let you go once given the chance to really have you.

I can feel the end coming and it makes me sad. Suddenly drained of energy because I know once this is over, we'll be over as well. Once I've pushed us both over the edge, you'll be gone just like you're gone from my life. "Oh, Damian..I'm coming!" She screamed into the sheets and in my head it was you. That done it for me. Just as quickly as you came, you left. And with you went my only hope of happiness in this life. Now I'm left to pick up the pieces of a shattered soul once again while this little one curls into my side, attempting to convince herself this wasn't just a one-nighter. In the morning none of this will have mattered. For now, I'm sated. I'm exhausted and ready to fall asleep and take a break. But in the morning I'll wake up and I'll see this girl lying in my bed and it will all come rushing back. It really was just a dream after all.. ________________________________________ -> 4.16.2020

[lanawinterscigarettes]

A Natasha scenario you could do is the reader's car stalls in a snow storm and our lovely Russian woman comes to the rescue with her own warm car ! Who knows, hope this helps your want to write :)

This actually helped with my writer's block a lot <3 I dont have my driver's license yet and I have very little knowledge on how cars work so I kept putting it off to get this finished because I'm worried something I wrote was inaccurate but oh well (also I'm literally posting this during spring. Really wishing it was still cold enough to snow right about now sigh)

Car Trouble (Natasha Romanoff x reader)

Warnings: swearing, mention of snowstorms, car trouble ig?? (Idk if those could be considered as warnings but better safe than sorry)

"Shit," you said as your car suddenly stopped, not wanting to go any farther no matter how hard you slammed your foot on the gas. "Oh, come on." You turned your keys in the ignition a few times, trying to get it to work, but it was no use. Your car sputtered before giving out a sad, strangled choking sound, and that was it. It was clear at that point your car was dead, and you were screwed.

"Well, that's just great," you muttered. You thought about maybe using the jumper cables you usually kept in the trunk of your car to give it a well needed boost of energy before remembering you'd taken it out the day before, needing the extra space for the groceries you'd needed to pick up. Of course the one time you needed it was the one time it wasn't there.

Sighing, you pulled out your phone to double check the forecast for the day. It was currently 30° and dropping, indicating the snow storm you weren't expecting to receive until next week was going to be arriving early.

"Wonderful." You were stuck in your car, about to be hit by a massive snow storm, groceries in the back, no jumper cable, and your phone was at seven percent. No one you knew would have the time to just drop everything and come pick you up, except for maybe one person; your girlfriend.

You quickly dialed her number and sat there anxiously as it rang. When she didn't answer the first time, you called again, hoping she would pick up. Then, on the third ring, she did.

"Hello?"

"Nat! Oh, thank God," you breathed out a sigh of relief. "Look, my phone's about to die, so I don't have much time to say what I need to say, but my car's being a dick, I don't have the jumper cables on me, and I'm pretty sure the snow storm predicted for next week is coming early. Please send help," you fake pleaded, only half joking.

The other end was silent, causing you to think maybe your phone had already died until you heard shuffling and the distinct sound of jingling keys on the other end. "I'm on my way. Text me where you're at if you can, if not, Friday has GPS systems installed in our cars for a reason."

"Oh my God, Nat, you're the best. Thank you."

You could hear the smirk in her voice as she gave her response. "Don't thank me yet."

Less than twenty minutes later, you heard the familiar rumbling of a car engine as Natasha's car pulled up beside yours. "Hey stranger," she said as she got out.

"Natasha!" You felt a tremendous amount of relief as she got out the jumper cables and made her way over to you.

"I'm gonna pop the hood so I can get this done and we can go home."

You watched as she tinkered with the stuff under the hood of your car for a couple minutes before giving you the go ahead to try to turn it on.

You gleefully honked on the horn as your car suddenly roared to life, causing Natasha to shoot you a dirty look. "That was my ear you just honked in."

"Sorry babe, my bad." You gave her a sheepish grin as you got out of your car and went to stand behind her. You wrapped your arms around her waist and squeezed. "Thank you so much for helping me with this today."

"Of course, I couldn't just leave you out here to freeze." She turned around to face you after shutting the hood of the car. "I've got to get back, but make sure you get home safe, okay?"

"Don't worry, I will." You gave her a quick kiss before getting back in the car. "I love you," you called out before shutting the door.

Waving to her as she drove away, you put on your seatbelt and got started on the drive back home.

~

Taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @blkroyalty1 @nevilleismywhore @multiyfandomgirl40 @xxromanoffxx @your-next-daydream

[littlereyofsunlight]

Steggy Week 2022 Day 1: Inspired by

What the heck, I've been noodling around in this fic again lately, so why not share some of it? I think I maybe posted a much smaller bit of this at some point but I can't find it in my archive. So feels like fair game to me. @steggyfanevents

This is from a (long) WIP, more tairen than tame, an AU inspired by the high-fantasy romance Tairen Soul Series by C.L. Wilson.

The faint whiff of ozone hit him when they’d crested a hill. Peggy had set a brutal pace, but Steve found that running beside her left him invigorated rather than tired. They both looked over the valley that stretched beyond. Not much cover, but the hills on either side grew into mountains, with sheer cliffs above their destination at the heart of the valley: Stark’s holdings at the mouth of the river. The path below, alongside the river, was their fastest option.

“Down?” He asked, curious to know if she’d come to the same conclusion.

She nodded, her lips set in a firm line. “Stick to the treeline, though.” She tightened the belt at her waist, making ready to depart.

“From what I hear, Stark’s lands are peaceful. We shouldn’t run into any trouble.” The trees would slow them down considerably. He’d kept Sam waiting long enough.

Peggy gave him a look out of the corner of her eye. “Then we’ll hope for a peaceful crossing. Through the treeline.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Peggy?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been traveling this world for decades. As the Fey saying goes, ‘the quickest path doesn’t always end where you would hope’.” She remained inscrutable, and he couldn’t tell if there was anything more than practical caution fueling her reluctance.

Frustrated, Steve ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. He could feel how it stood on end after his fingers raked through. “Please. There may be news of my sister waiting. I’ve delayed too long as it is.” At the plaintive note in his voice, she shifted her stance ever so slightly, as if she’s stopped herself from reaching out to him. His own arms tensed in answer.

Peggy looked back out over the valley, her beautiful face betraying nothing. Steve imagined she might be reaching out with her Fey senses, seeking out potential danger, some excuse to insist on her way. But he couldn’t find the anger of a minute ago, not while he looked at her face. Was she truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen? Or was it a trick of their bond? How would he ever know the difference?

Finally, she nodded once. “As you wish, Steve.” She looked again out over the valley. “We should go. If we make haste, we can reach Stark before nightfall.”

She gave him a moment to gather himself but no more before she launched her body off the rock with a powerful blast of Air.

Steve took off at a run, and though he couldn’t hope to match her pace, racing down the slope gave him a rush of joy. The wind was in his hair, the sun at his back, he was rushing towards a reunion with his brother. And, he was surprised to realize, some small part of him rejoiced at the sensation of running with her.

She stayed ahead of him, but checked her speed enough that she was only a few strides away. The grace of her as she took the steep hill with ease took his breath away. Distracted, Steve put a foot wrong and nearly pitched forward trying to rebalance himself. It should have been impossible for her to keep dodging rocks and depressions in her path while she turned back to smirk knowingly at him, but she did it all the same. He found himself holding back a laugh at his own folly. He hadn’t felt this boyant in a long, long time. The ground leveled out under his feet and he skirted the marshy areas where the river turned course to the west, cutting through the heart of the forest. Steve estimated they were only a few leagues from Stark’s lands, and then perhaps one more before they reached his manor. They’d already run for hours, but the closer they got, the harder he pushed.

Which was why, when the soldiers came out of the trees to herd them towards the river, Steve wasn’t at his best. His reaction was slow enough that one man managed to get between him and Peggy. Steve lunged, heedless of anything other than not letting them be separated. He was sucker-punched before he really took in the situation. Five surrounded them, dressed in dark leathers, their faces covered by hoods and cowls.

The one who’d punched Steve hadn’t even finished his swing before a waterspout erupted from the river. It swept him and one of his companions up and into the raging waters yards downstream. Meanwhile, even in the middle of weaving her magic, Peggy had her blades out. One attacker lay on the ground bleeding. The other two circled her warily, keeping her between them and the river.

Steve caught one from behind in a chokehold as the other unsheathed a wicked curved sword. He watched Peggy bare her teeth in a cruel smile, inclining her head to encourage her remaining opponent forward. Before she could engage them, though, all the hairs on Steve’s arms stood on end and again he smelled ozone in the split second before Peggy was hit with a blast of powerful magic.

It lifted her off her feet and slammed her into the ground. Shouting, Steve released the man in his hold and ran to her. The soldier with the sword melted back into the trees.

Steve scrambled to the ground, hands going to her shoulders. Her eyes were open and as he touched her, she gave a great, heaving gasp. “Steve,” she rasped, eyes wide with fear, “get down.”

Again, he felt his body react to the spellcaster’s gathering power. "Peggy!" He shouted to warn her, but she'd already turned and flung herself out of range. Steve whipped his head around to see a woman stalking towards them.

Clad in blue leathers, her hair streaming behind her like a banner, the woman advanced, drawing her power together for another attack. Steve didn’t think, he couldn’t think as his mind clouded and he felt something thrumming within himself, ripping at his mind, tearing through his muscles. Their attacker braced herself to throw another blast at Peggy, who was still reeling from the first, her reflexes slowed. Steve felt himself light up and out, and before the witch could unleash her own power, Steve’s bowled her over, rushing out of him unchecked. Her pale hair burned, but she was dead before she could scream.

Peggy, still panting, dragged herself to her feet. She walked over to the woman and kicked at her boot. “Well,” she said after a moment’s thought, “that’s bloody useful. Would have been nice to know you could do that”

Steve was still looking at his hands. “I’ve never done that before.”

Peggy clicked her tongue. “I doubt you’ve ever fought a Feraz witch before, either.”

All Steve could do was shake his head.

[neonacity]

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 5 (END): JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones.

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal. There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here.

TW: crimes, heists, mentions of illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

CHAPTER 1 / CHAPTER 2 / CHAPTER 3 / CHAPTER 4

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

To set the record straight, I've always thought of myself as a pretty reasonable person. I have never been the type to crave for things just for the thrill and danger of it, and—even though I am not necessarily the prim and proper, miss goody-two-shoes type—I have always made it a point to stay away from trouble. I believe that I am very sensible when it comes to everything, especially when it comes to life-changing decisions.

Which is why it is terribly and unbelievably out of character for me now to do what I am just about to do, all rational thoughts be damned. Hell, I lied my way to find this place, put a bet on what is obviously illegal gambling, and watched a drag race. Nothing makes sense anymore. 

And here he is, hugging another girl. 

Just. Wow. 

My legs had already started moving towards the group before I even realized what I was doing. Around me, people have started to converge towards the game masters, probably to take their wins from the race. That made it easier for me to sidestep everyone, my eyes focused on the boys ahead, particularly on one who had his hands still wrapped around the waist of another girl. I watched as the woman in question reached out to ruffle his hair.

 My jaw tightened.

Jaemin. You're so dead. 

I was already just a few feet away when they finally noticed me. It was Renjun whose eyes I caught first, a scowl gracing his features momentarily as he saw the odd girl charging towards them. That look immediately died as I pulled down my hoodie. 

He reached out to prod Mark, his eyes wide. The latter didn't notice him at first, obviously still caught up from the cahooting they've been doing. 

"What?" Mark finally turned to him who, in turn, pointed at me wordlessly. Now there are two of them staring at me wide-eyed.

"Oh shit," he muttered.

Oh shit, indeed.

I finally stopped just between Haechan and Jeno who were closest to the couple and were almost blocking me from Jaemin's sight. Haechan was in the middle of saying something when he finally glanced at me, a small yelp cutting off his words as he jumped back in surprise. That caught Jeno's attention who, almost comically, mirrored him.

"W-What—" 

That was enough to catch Jaemin's attention. His eyes finally landed on me and I watched as they rounded, a flurry of emotions reflected there. There was shock, fear, and finally, worry. 

He was speechless. I, in return, gave him a stiff smile, my eyes traveling from his face, then pointedly at his arms around the girl's waist. 

"Hi," I said simply. His gaze dropped to her and he immediately let go.

"What are you doing here?" He finally managed to ask, his face tight. Obviously, he isn't happy about me being here. 

"I wanted to see you," I answered, and I swear there was a brief look of pain that danced across his features. Everyone around us was silent, the tension so thick you could almost cut it with a knife. 

"Jaemin? Is she your friend?" The woman finally asked as her gaze curiously moved between us two. I took notice of how pretty she is, her large brown eyes sitting on top of dainty, almost elf-like features. My heart ached.

Three months and he's already found her. Was it really that easy for him?

"Noona, I think we need to… uh… give them some time," Mark said rather awkwardly as he gently reached out to her arm. She looked back at him then at us again before finally giving a nod. They started walking away, Haechan and Renjun following them silently after shooting us worried looks.

Jeno, meanwhile, glanced at Jaemin who is still refusing to look me in the eyes. 

"We'll be at the barracks," he said before giving me a quick look and a small, sad smile. He turned, following Mark and the rest of the group. 

The silence that dropped around us was the loudest I've ever heard. The place was still a little rowdy with people shouting here and there, but we were stuck in our own bubble, entirely out of touch with our surroundings. It was me who decided to break it. 

"Let's talk." 

Jaemin shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes directed away from me. 

"There really isn't anything to talk about." 

That made me snap. 

"No, we are going to talk whether you like it or not. Or, if you don’t have anything to say, then I am going to talk and you are going to listen." Without waiting for a reply, I walked past him and went straight to his car to grab the door of the passenger seat. He turned to look at me with wide eyes and I daringly met his gaze. 

"Drive," I ordered before getting inside and slamming the door. 

----

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest in an effort to keep myself warm. My eyes scanned the field before me, the sea of grass looking like a green ocean twinkling underneath a tapestry of stars.

Of all places he had to bring me, he chose the field we always used to go to when we both wanted to escape the world. I would be lying if I say the sentimentality of it isn't getting to me now. Still I tried to keep it at bay, not when there are so many things that we need to straighten out.

The sound of the car door closing finally made me turn back. Jaemin was leaning against his hood, eyes silently watching me with an unreadable look in them. I thought the ride here was awkward with the silence between us, but there is a different kind of uneasiness now as we stood face to face in the dark. 

I softly cleared my throat. I didn't even know what I wanted to say to him after that spur of the moment stunt I pulled earlier. 

"Why did you find me?" He asked softly, gently. Shadows cast by the sky played across his features, making it harder for me to gauge his expression. Hearing his voice this close, however, made the dull pain in my chest spike. 

"I told you, I wanted to see you," I answered quietly. The set of his jaw tightened. 

"Why? You shouldn't deal with me anymore."

I turned to fully face him, my expression set.

"You're the one who decided that on your own, Jaemin, not me."

The look he gave me in return was torn. There was pain there but at the same time, hope. He looked confused. Frustrated. 

“I’m a criminal,” he said pointedly, as if that is one piece of crucial information I’ve forgotten. 

I nodded.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I’m not. I don’t support things that hurt others.”

“Then why are you—”

“Because I don’t want you gone,” The words were out before I could even stop myself. I’m way past thinking now as every little thing I’ve tried to hold back for the past months came rushing to the surface. What I said made him immediately stop, the look on his face open and vulnerable.

“I know it is wrong, okay? But I like you. I can’t—stop that. I like you so much that nothing doesn’t make sense anymore!” I continued in frustration as I threw my hands up. “I tried being rational, believe me. But it’s been three months and all I could ever think of was you. I don’t like it when I can’t see you. I hate it so much.”

A cloud shifted and finally washed his features with moonlight. I was too busy trying to process my emotions and connecting them with the words spilling out of me that I failed to notice the way he looked at me initially. When I finally glanced at him, the ghost of a smile was playing on the corners of his lips. I frowned.

“Can you imagine what I’ve been going through for the past months? I have so many things to do for school and I can’t even focus because I was always thinking of you! And then… and then…” I glared at him and his brows shot up ever so slightly in question, the amused look still on his face. 

“And then the first thing I see you do is hug another woman,” I finally said, squinting at him accusingly. 

I was expecting a number of reactions from him, all except the one he gave. 

He laughed. 

I gasped, visibly offended.

“Did you just laugh at me?!”

Jaemin raised his hands up in a placating manner and bowed his head slightly in a feeble attempt to hide his giggles. The shaking of his shoulders, however, betrayed him. That made me fume even more. 

“Hey! Stop that!” I glared at him before crossing my arms over my chest. It took me all I have not to pout like an infuriated high school girl right now. Just what the hell is he thinking? I pour my heart out and all he does is...laugh? 

He finally looked up, the grin on his face now a full-blown smile. It was one of those smiles that I love seeing on him the most, the one that stretches his cheeks and makes him look like he doesn't care about anything in the world. Slowly, he pushed back from the hood of his car and started walking towards where I stood. I threw him a wary look but didn’t move from my spot. 

“Can you go back to what you said earlier?” he asked, voice low and gentle as he slowly closed the distance between us. My frustrated glares slowly melted into that of nervousness as I watched him take slow step after slow step. 

“What? About you hugging another girl?” I tried to fire back but desperately failed, my voice thin and unsure. He was so close to me now that I needed to just reach out to touch his face.

Jaemin shook his head and looked at me in a way that almost made me want to run away and close the distance between us at the same time. I was too entranced by how perfect he looked under the moonlight that I barely felt his hands settle on my hips. His touch was gentle, barely grazing me, as if he was giving me enough space to move away if I wanted to. 

I didn’t.

“The one before that,” he whispered, head dipped as he stared at me. The look he gave me only made my heart beat harder against my chest. 

I swallowed. He finally held me with a more secure grip now after probably realizing that I wasn’t moving away. The warmth of his palms radiated into my skin like a calming touch.

“T-the one where I said… I like you?” Jaemin’s smile widened. He gave a soft hum before finally pulling me closer to his chest. 

“That one,” he said as he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. My face was absolutely burning, and for the first time I felt thankful that we were in the dark with only the moon shining down on us. 

“I like you too,” he said softly, his fingers curling to cup my cheek gently. I unconsciously leaned towards his touch and he ran his thumb over my skin. “But I guess that is already obvious, huh?”

“But… the girl…” 

That made him laugh a bit. “She’s a friend. She’s like our adoptive older sister. Me and the rest of the boys call her our lucky charm so we decided to play this silly game today—see if one of us wins if she rides with us to test it out. She’s also hopelessly in love with someone else, though she’s still in denial of it,” he shrugged. I felt mortified. Jaemin moved one of his hands to reach out for mine, interlocking our fingers together. 

“So, you’re okay… with me?” 

I nodded, still a little bit confused at how things turned out.

“Even if I’m… like this?”

That made me finally sigh.

“Can’t you… walk away from it?” 

That made his face fall.

“I can’t. It’s the only life I know. And I can’t… leave my brothers. They’re the only family I have.”

I didn’t say anything at first. A few seconds of silence passed as I simply looked at our interlocked hands.

“Then, I have one request.”

That made him look up, hope in his eyes.

“Let me join you.”

------

I tried my best not to look like a lost child as I stared at my hands folded neatly on my lap. Beside me, Renjun shot me an odd look from over his phone screen before reaching out to wave his fingers in front of my face. 

“Hey, you don’t look like you’re still breathing. Relax, Everything’s going to turn out fine.”

I shot him a helpless look but didn't say anything. I felt the other side of the couch dip before someone poked my arm. I turned to see Jisung looking down at me. 

“I think they’re almost finished with their meeting now,” he said, which only sent my nerves into overdrive. I tried to rub my hands against my jeans to keep them from sweating too much and nodded.

To say that I had to go through the needle just to push through with this would be an understatement. Jaemin was obviously not happy with my decision when I told him what I wanted to do that night in the field, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him. Why does a normal civilian like me even want to get involved in something like… this? Like I said, I’ve never been the trouble-seeking type of person, but somehow, this just makes sense for me to jump into. I had to make it clear to him that even though I do understand where he is coming from, it is still my decision to do this, regardless of whether he thinks it is a good idea or not.  

Of course, this doesn’t mean that I am entirely leaving my old life behind. I made my limitations clear with him, that I am not going to participate in any illegal activity that they are doing, nor am I going to help them with their ‘projects.’ I didn’t even want to know the specifics of what they do—the plan was for me to get into the group as their resident ‘doctor,’ that’s all. In my head, that was the perfect compromise to what I wanted to do. I couldn’t bear living and knowing that Jaemin puts himself out in trouble every day, so at least I could be involved by helping them out the same way I did with Haechan back then. 

Fast forward to the present and Jaemin, together with Mark and Jeno—who are apparently the standing leader and captain of their unit—are now meeting with the rest of their group to talk about my recruitment. It still feels surreal for me even as I sat now in the middle of their headquarters waiting for their decision. It’s like a job interview, except that the position is a spot in Seoul’s top organized crime family. 

“I’m telling you, there isn’t anything you have to worry about. This isn’t the first time we’re recruiting someone. We do have other associates out there. You’ll just be like them,” Renjun said in an effort to calm me. Just then, Chenle looked up from the bean bag he was currently lounging on, an amused smirk on his lips. 

“Isn’t it funny though? Jaemin-hyung tried his best to keep noona away from us and now she’s about to join the family,” he snickered.

“Those months when he wasn’t with you… They were...very hard,” Jisung added as he stared into the void. The poor kid looked like he was having war flashbacks. His comment made Renjun snort.

“That is exactly the reason why you should be accepted. I can’t deal with a brooding Jaemin anymore. I swear I’ll lose my mind and stab a bitc—”

He wasn’t able to finish what he was saying as a door in the hallway opened. Out of it came Jaemin, Jeno, Mark and Haechan followed by another person whom I haven’t seen before. I know him though, based on what Jaemin told me prior to this meeting. Behind him was the same woman I saw with the boys during the night of the race.

I swallowed thickly as I watched their group approach our small huddle. Jaemin gave me a quick glance before the others stopped in front of us.

“Hi. I’m Taeyong,” the older boy greeted me kindly. I stood up quickly to give him a polite bow and he answered with a smile. When Jaemin told me that they’ll have to talk to the overall leader of their group, I was expecting a burly man with a killer gaze that can murder someone from a few feet away. Taeyong is the exact opposite of that—young, handsome, with a brotherly look on him.

“H-hello…”

“So, Dream right here told me that you want to join the family, yes?” 

I nodded speechlessly, my hands feeling numb from nervousness.

“How far away are you from being a licensed doctor?”

That made me falter. When it comes to credentials, there’s really nothing much I can brag about. The look of hesitation on my face must have been so obvious because when I caught the eye of the girl behind him, she gave me an encouraging smile.

“I-I’m still…in my third year of pre-med. So I still have a long way to go,” I finally managed to stutter. Taeyong was silent for a bit after that, which only made me even more nervous. 

“Haechan did say that you saved him once.”

I suddenly glanced at Haechan who grinned and winked at me in return.

“Yep she did. Sewed my intestines back to my body~” 

God, I could hug him right now. 

“Well, we really can’t do anything about this. You already know about us, so by default, we should take you in,” Taeyong said, shooting a glance at the four younger ones on his side. The rest looked away guiltily, trying to act innocent to no avail. “I have to be straight with you though, once you are in, you can never get out. You can leave, but you probably already know what it takes for that to happen, right?” 

I gave a tight nod. Of course I know what that means. Taeyong continued, speaking casually as if he’s an average boss initiating someone to their new side job. 

“Since you’re now a member, we’ll take care of your academic expenses. Take it as if we’re sponsoring you so you could work for us.” 

My eyes rounded at that casual announcement. He didn’t seem to have noticed though as he went on. 

“You’ll be assigned mostly to Dream, but some of us might still get your help every now and then. You don’t need to come here, they’ll come to you.”

“Lastly, we expect full loyalty and secrecy. If we find out that you have been sharing information about us with others…”

“I won’t. I promise. I won’t betray you guys,” I immediately spoke up as I found my voice again at last. I saw Jaemin smile from my peripheral vision, a proud look on his face.

Taeyong nodded slowly. He gave me one last look before finally offering me his hand with a smile. I took it quickly and he gave it a firm shake. 

“That’s it then. Thank you for saving Haechan back then. Oh...and welcome to the family.” 

I beamed back at him.

“Thank you,” I said with a polite bow just before he turned to walk back into the office he left. 

The rest of the boys waited for him to disappear before erupting into controlled cheers. I looked up at Jaemin who has now moved beside me, his smile still with that hint of pride in it as he reached out for my hand. I squeezed it back and gave a little jump. 

“I’m in!”

“You’re in,” he nodded. 

“I told you, you didn’t have anything to worry about,” Renjun quipped beside me. Jeno and Mark exchanged glances, a relieved look on their faces. 

“Dude, I thought he wouldn’t say yes,” Mark said as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Well, aren’t you guys glad I was there as living proof of her medical skillz?” Haechan said loftily before Jeno playfully pushed him back with a laugh.

“Does that mean we can always go to the cafe now?” Chenle asked. 

“Can I have unlimited cheesecake?” Jisung added.

A soft clearing of throat made all of us look up at the girl still standing on the side of our little group. We were too caught up in our celebration that we didn’t even realize she was still there. 

“Can I borrow her for a minute? Filing purposes,” she asked, a kind smile curving her lips. I looked at Jaemin who gave me an encouraging raise of his brows.

“Okay.”

“Let’s go there,” she pointed towards a section of the headquarters that was initially covered by a metal divider from where I was sitting earlier. I followed her silently towards it, only to be taken by surprise by the numerous consoles and computers that revealed themselves when we rounded the corner. There were different screens there, some I assume are flashing footage from cameras, while others ran incomprehensible codes. 

She took one of the swivel chairs in front of the many screens and I hesitantly did the same as my eyes roamed all the technology surrounding me.

“So, I need your full name, address, social security number and blood type,” she said as she typed away at the keyboard. I gave her everything she needed without even asking what they are for. I must have looked weird and awkward reciting everything to her because she laughed when she glanced up at me briefly.

“Relax. We do this for all members. Or at least those involved with the inner circle. Don’t worry, this is highly confidential.”

“Okay…”  

“Give me a minute to process you a new number, okay? I’ll be giving you a phone that you need to use for all communications with us. And oh, your own member code.” 

I nodded politely. 

We were silent for a bit as I watched her do her thing with her computers. It was a comfortable type of silence so I was a little bit surprised when she suddenly spoke up. 

“So… Jaemin, huh?”

My eyes snapped to her. She wasn’t looking at me, but that didn’t stop my cheeks from growing hot still. 

“Um… yes.” 

“I was wondering about what made him act so down the past few months and didn’t realize he found a girlfriend,” she giggled, which only made my blush much worse. “They grow up so fast.” 

“How long… have you known him, unnie?”

“Since they were kids. All of them. Met Jaemin and Jeno when they were about 12, I think. Jisung, if I remember correctly, was brought to us when he was eight.” 

So Jaemin wasn’t kidding when he said that she really was like a surrogate older sister.

“So you’ve been with the family for a long time…” I offered to continue the conversation. Already, I’m feeling more comfortable around her, which is a good thing, being in a set-up with mostly men around. She answered with a small smile and I couldn’t help but notice the slight tinge of bitterness there. 

“I was born into it,” she whispered softly that I almost didn’t catch it. She seemed to have finished with what she was doing at that moment, however, and my eyes flew to the screens which flashed green in front of us before turning off. A low hum sounded from a box-looking machine beside her then and I watched with awe as she took what looked like a microchip from a slot there. She then pulled a boxed phone from one of the many filing cabinets under the table and pushed both to my hands. 

“Here. Take them. We’ll mostly contact you using this so don’t lose it, okay? It’s also your tracker. The microchip is hooked to our computer so we can check where you are. Just for safety purposes.” 

I nodded and took the package wordlessly. I was curiously looking at the small piece of technology she just whipped out of nowhere when I heard her speak again. 

“You’re sure about this, right?” 

I looked up in surprise. 

“About…”

“About Jaemin,” she continued, her eyes kind but serious. “All of those boys are very important to me. I wouldn’t want to see any of them hurt.” 

That gave me the confidence to finally smile back at her. “Yes, I’m sure,” I answered and a look of relief passed over her. “I know it sounds silly, but it just… felt right, you know?”

She chuckled. “It is silly. You joined a mafia gang for your boyfriend~” 

That made my cheeks burn again. I was saved by the sound of Taeyong’s voice just then as he called out to us from his room. We both looked at him curiously and he nodded towards the older girl beside me.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” he asked with a smile. She nodded before turning to me one last time. 

“Well, I’ll see you around, okay? Welcome to the family again. Maybe you can visit next time so you can meet the others,” she said before pushing back from her seat. I was watching her walk away when she suddenly stopped to turn to me once more.

“Oh, by the way, I don’t really think you’re silly for doing this. Because honestly, I’d do the same.”

With one last smile, she finally left, Taeyong looking at her approaching form with barely concealed stars in his eyes. 

------

“Stop messing up with your collar so much,” Jaemin said patiently in front of me as he took another sip of his coffee. My hands, which were in the middle of buttoning up my shirt after I just unbuttoned it three seconds ago, froze. I finally let them drop to my sides with a sigh. 

I didn’t even realize that I was fumbling so much until he pointed it out. In exchange, I glanced at my watch again before proceeding to drum my fingers on top of my wooden counter. It was the day that I was supposed to meet my new bosses and I’m literally on the edge of my seat. It felt like having a job interview all over again. 

“Why are you so nervous?” my boyfriend asked nonchalantly as he leaned over the front of the bar. There was an amused look in his eyes that I answered with a questioning glance. 

“Because I am going to meet my new boss. What if they don’t like me and decide to fire me?”

“Didn’t your old man tell them that they should take you in when he sold the cafe?”

I waved my hand dismissively at him. “Yes, he did. But what if they just said that back then? They can easily get rid of me now.” 

“I don’t think they will,” he said and the confidence in his voice made me feel a little bit better. I smiled at him despite my jittery state.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“You’re an angel,” I said, to which he answered me with a wink. Seriously, he can be the biggest flirt whenever he wants to, something that I find absolutely adorable about him.

“They’re almost half an hour late now though…” I mused quietly to myself as my eyes landed on my watch again. Jaemin watched me silently from the other side of the counter as he sipped on his death coffee. Finally, he gave a sigh and put his drink down. 

“Look, I don’t think they’ll come.”

I gave him a confused look. 

He answered with a sheepish glance before softly clearing his throat. 

“Well, you’re kinda looking at him right now.”

I stared, not understanding what he was saying.

“Huh?” 

Jaemin dug his hands into the pockets of his pants and sighed.

“You’re looking at the new owner… right now.” 

I blinked once, twice. 

And then it clicked.

I gasped. “Oh my god—”

“Look, I didn’t tell you at first because I didn’t know how to—”

“You’re the buyer?!”

“Well, yes, but I did ask Johnny and Taeil-hyung to close the deal since it would have probably looked weird if I’m the one who—”

“Jaemin, you bought a cafe—”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?!”

“I didn’t know how to help you!” he blurted out, and all of a sudden there was the 'Nana' that Chenle and the others had warned me about. The one that could almost pass off as a rapper—or your usual ranting mom—when trying to explain himself. 

“I wasn’t supposed to see you anymore and I was so worried about your school because Jeno told me the last time you guys spoke you were having money problems. And then I remembered you said that you’re not getting enough from your job here, but then I also couldn’t help you out because you will find it weird if I just give you money even when we were still seeing each other. So I thought—” 

“So you thought to buy the shop I was working at...and what, offer to raise my salary by a thousand bucks?” I continued, my lips starting to twitch. It was all I could do not to laugh. I was still in a state of shock but I was also incredibly amused. Now that I think about it, all of these are just too funny. 

Jaemin noticed and gave me a pout. 

“That’s better than you working at a strip club. As if I’d allow that,” he grumpily said with a roll of his eyes as he took his coffee again sassily. 

That finally sent me into a fit of giggles. He glanced at me, as if gauging if I was still pissed. Instead, I leaned over the counter and gave him a kiss, our lips touching ever so gently. When I pulled back, he was smiling again.

“You’re so crazy,” I said, looking deep into his eyes. They twinkled back at me with all the reasons I need to justify the craziness I’ve put myself into since I met him. 

“Says the girl who joined the mafia for me,” he answered back, his tone soft but teasing.

“So, does that mean you’re my boss now?” 

He grinned and I swear I could almost hear my heart drumming against my chest. We were so close that I could see his long lashes almost touching the tops of his cheeks. 

“I think I prefer to be called by another name.” 

My smile widened. 

“And what’s that?” I asked, playing along.

Jaemin leaned over, closing the distance between us again. 

“Boyfriend.” 

To set the record straight, I've always thought of myself as a pretty reasonable person. I’ve never outwardly searched for trouble or put myself in the line of fire just for the thrill of it. I’m sensible when it comes to everything...

The exception being Na Jaemin.

---

A/N: Oh my god, I finally finished this side fic in time for Nana’s birthday! It took me almost 18,000 words but I finally managed. This is actually the first ever fanfic I’ve finished so I feel kinda emotional right now, just being able to start something and wrap it up neatly. Thank you to everyone who has read this and I do hope you enjoyed it! And please please please, greet Jaemin on his birthday because that boy deserves all the love in the world. <3 Again, thank you for being in this ride with me!

P.S. If you’ve read Black Daisies, some of the side characters here will make sense lol

Tagging: @negincho, @springdaybreaks​

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.5 (NSFW!)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

'Cassandra's favorite', the other maids call you.

You can't tell if they mean it as a good or a bad thing. Hell, you can't even tell which of the two it really is.

Being her 'favorite' does not make you immune to harm in any way; bruises litter your shoulders and sides from when she grabs you too forcefully and cuts from her nails sting at your neck and stomach, renewed each time she comes to take a kiss.

None of that existed back when you were something of zero interest to her. On the other hand, she's told you several times you're 'a thing of beauty' --her thing of beauty-- and she won't let anything ruin a natural piece of art.

If you know anything about Cassandra, it is that she takes art very seriously. Your interpretation of the word greatly varies from hers, you're sure, but it doesn't change the fact she won't easily raise a sickle on you.

Cassandra won't break you. She won't let Daniela do so, either. Bela doesn't even care to hurt you. It means you're safe for now...

Unless Lady Dimitrescu decides you're best taken away from her daughter. Permanently. You don't dare meet her eyes, but you can feel them on you, scrutinizing, every night at dinner.

You're pretty sure she knows.

The thought sits heavy in your mind while you're cleaning bloodied steps off a corridor at three in the small hours of the morning, along with another maid. Adella is a quiet and hardworking one; the two of you make a good team and you know you'll be done in record time.

But it only takes a single moment for everything to go wrong.

Adella is hastily walking back to you with a bucket of fresh water in hand when you hear a different set of steps approach from the side. You make to warn her, but it's already too late.

The collision happens at the turn where the two passageways meet. As soon as you see black robes dripping wet you pray to whichever God will listen for mercy.

Because Cassandra has not been in a good mood all night and she is not the understanding type regardless.

Adella gasps and shakingly backs away, a waterfall of apologies spilling from her lips. Cassandra rolls her neck and draws her sickle, advancing on her slowly. She looks terrifying.

"Don't move now." she orders.

And you just- can't watch this. You don't know why, but the realization you cannot hits you like a speeding truck. You can't stand there while the the woman you frequently kiss cuts away at a girl you know is as good and compassionate as a human under your circumstances can possibly get.

You react.

Before you can even think how impossibly stupid you're being, you drop the mop in your hands and dash forward, crashing into Cassandra's form. Your right arm wraps around her waist and your left grips at her wrist like a vice. Your heart is pounding. You don't even know what you're saying;

"Cassandra, no! Please. Don't." Cold and rigid as she is, it may as well be a statue you're holding. "Cassandra, stop. Please." Once impulse dies down, you realize you've just signed your death wish for two seconds of playing hero.

And you thought you were smarter than that. Ha. But maybe, just maybe, part of you wants to die, so long as it's quick and painless.

With Cassandra, though, you doubt it. Especially with how lethal she sounds when she says:

"You. Disappear." You hear, rather than see, Adella scurrying off for her life. "As for you..."

You only register a blur, nausea, cold nails piercing at your neck, over already existing marks. You are shoved into the nearest wall so powerfully you can't breathe for all of ten seconds. It's a wonder you don't hear any cracks from within your body.

Cassandra is on you, her fingers harsh on your chin and breath chilly on your lips. "Good pets don't bark against their own masters. What made you so bold, hm?"

You don't answer, too busy summoning your mental strength for what comes next. The way her eyes and the lines of her pretty face have hardened, she looks nothing like the flirty girl who comes to steal kisses from you at random times during the night.

"Maybe I've been too nice to you. The first time you call my name and it's for some other maid?"

She looks like she wants to let out a bitter laugh, break something and slice you into stripes simultaneously. And then you realize; Cassandra is jealous.

It doesn't get any worse than that.

"Maybe I should make sure you never say anything again." The corner of her lips curls up in dark amusement as she talks. "You don't talk much, anyway."

Well. She did say she wouldn't let anyone ruin your looks. Never promised anything about what's on the inside.

You're shaking, even if her grasp doesn't leave much room to do so. Your brain is restlessly trying to come up with something to get you out of this mess-

"I'm of way more use to you with my tongue intact." you somehow manage to speak without stuttering. It makes you wonder where the hell this confidence came from.

Cassandra stills for a moment. Her grip eases the slightest amount, probably from surprise.

You wonder what the hell you're even doing, yourself, when you bring your hands to her sides and lean in, to the curve of her nice jawline. You've never kissed her neck before, but you remember from the times you've given her a massage that she's very sensitive around it.

Cautiously, you press your mouth to the soft spot under her ear.

She smells so good and her skin feels so smooth you're not exactly forcing yourself to kiss her. If you're going to be mutilated anyway, the part of you that must be severely messed up muses, you may as well take some pleasure for yourself beforehand. Who knows, it may change her mind along the way.

So you lick her there and suck over her faint pulse. You don't get any stimuli from her, at first.

Until her hand trails from your shoulder to your nape, urging you harder against her. It's the green light to keep going.

You put all your skill into it as you lavish her neck and collarbones with open-mouthed kisses. She's loose and moaning low in her throat now.

You can't tell why, but the sound echoes right though your adrenaline-induced system, tickles down your spinal cord to pool low in your stomach. You either had a kink for danger you never knew of, or you developed one in the castle.

Whatever the case, your fingers are working on the buttons of her outfit and she doesn't seem like stopping you has even crossed her mind.

When the robes barely hang onto her shoulders, Cassandra maneuvers you to the closest room, shuts the door and presses you against it. Hard. Your lips slide together hungrily. You taste wine on her tongue.

At this point, your hands are the only thing supporting her outfit on her. She looks too fucking sexy for words like this, half-undressed, lipstick smeared, so turned on and ready for you. But you also want to see more of her, so you let the black fabric drop.

She's getting impatient, though. Being more vocal, tugging your hand to the apex of her legs.

"Cassandra." you moan when you push the midnight lace of her panties aside and touch her. She's so wet.

Her mouth falls open in a soundless gasp, brows drawn softly. "Oh, you're lucky I like my name on your lips." she says, breathless.

You did start this trying to prove to her how useful your tongue can be attached to your body, however... so it's only fair that's how you finish it.

Finish her.

Cassandra looks dazed and confused when you kneel in front of her, but it's quickly replaced with a broken moan when you take her into your mouth. You revel in every single gasp you coax out of her, every minuscule shake of her perfect thighs.

She bites into her own hand when she reaches her peak, nails leaving four parallel marks on the wall.

You're gentlewomanly enough to pull her outfit up for her while she's coming down from her high. Your gaze takes its sweet time admiring the contours of her chest as you button it closed. She really is the most attractive girl you've ever seen, if you somehow don't take into consideration her body count.

"Good?" you ask when she opens her pretty eyes to look at you.

"It's not cute to be smug, plaything." Cassandra makes a soft grimace at you, though you can see the lazy, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her lip. "But. I suppose your tongue has its uses to me, after all."

You gently push off the door to let her exit at her leisure. The movement makes you realize you won't really be able to move tomorrow, with how sore you already are.

To your surprise, Cassandra takes a moment longer in the room.

She turns back to you and raises her hands to your torso, then carefully adjusts your wrinkled shirt. Her long fingers smooth over the imperfections she caused...

And you don't know why after everything the two of you just did, it's this that feels the most intimate.

The same digits brush over your throat as she pulls away.

By the time your mind starts working right again, Cassandra is already gone. Absently, you trace over the weeping scratches on your neck.

-

-

Later, at the main hall of the castle...

"Oh, boo, look who's late again." Daniela rolls her eyes at Cassandra's fashionably delayed arrival.

"Surprise, surprise." Bela smirks, casually leaned against the side of the fireplace.

"Are you two done being insufferable or should I come by later?" Cassandra asks.

"And scar our ears and minds with another round of your 'oh's and 'ah's, sister? I think not." Daniela comments.

Bela raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Had a nice time?"

"You two have very active imaginations, you know? Tells a lot about you." Cassandra chuckles. "She was just giving me a massage. But do go on. Be thirsty. I can wait."

Daniela and Bela share a look, thrown off their game by the nonchalance.

Cassandra hides a smirk under her hood and steps out first, into the peerless dark.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda." 

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

[strawbearisamu]

for a day like this

timeskip! hanamaki takahiro x gn! reader

summary: a coincidence on a train ride home leads to a confession and kissing in the rain.

note: requested by anon :) here, semi long one guys

cw: light swearing, semi makeout scene

wc: 1.8k 

the sky shrouded by a dense fog, the blue of it completely concealed by a covering of wooly grey clouds. rain continuing to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard a disembodied female voice announce the departure of the train. you sighed, train starting to move as you look out your window only to see a strike of lightning, the muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of the impending consequences of today's events.

"miss..miss...excuse me miss?" shaken from your daze, you meet the face of a middle aged woman carrying an infant and a young child, "miss, would you mind switching seats with me? there just isn't enough space for my baby's breastfeeding equipment on the other side." she asked apologetically, "even though i specifically requested it," mumbling the last part under her breath.

you press your lips in to a small smile, grabbing your things as she thanked you in relief, your eyes light up at a familiar shade of strawberry brown, occupying the very seat next to the one you were supposed to replace, "makki?" you couldn’t help the grin as called out from behind.

he whipped his head towards you, eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as he eyed you a few times. as if making sure you weren't a fake, making sure the familiar resonance and tenor of your voice, the one he replays to himself some nights, making sure it wasn't just an auditory hallucination. "y/n."

eyes lighting up with excitement, you speed up towards him, engulfing his sitting form in a warm hug, arms wrapped around his neck as he breaths in your scent.

"missed me huh?" you don't miss the playful glint in his eyes as you finally let him go. "yeah," a beaming grin displacing the forlorn look on your face.

"what were you doing in the city?" you asked, squeezing past him into the window seat as he towered over to the side of the walkway to make room, you see his eyes glaze over for a split second before he says "just a reunion with the boys."

"how are they! you guys were always quite the gang."

"yeah," he paused, slight hesitation lingering in his voice, "they're good i mean, really good."

the thunder crackling, a shot of lightning briefly lighting the gloomy sky as the scenery beyond your cabin window blurred with the speeding train.

"you look awful," he says, words slipping out absentmindedly, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he spluttered an apology, rambling on, "not as in you're ugly but your clothes, your stuff, it just looks a little...disheveled."

you burst into laughter, the first time today, "my bag was stolen today, some guy on a motorbike snatched it and knocked me over, it was crazy! i tried chasing him too!" you recounted the story again, but for the first time today, in humour.

"pfft, sorry not the point, you tried chasing him?" his mouth curving into his signature lazy grin.

"what's your point strawberry head?" narrowing your eyes at him as he raised his hands, pleading innocence. "you okay though?"

"i'll survive, can't say the same for my job, had some really important work documents there, weren't supposed make copies, now they're gone."

"oh..."

"yeah, i'm so pissed but well the jury will be out after the weekend," you sighed, "but anyway should we be talking about how you look just as bad as me, makki?"

a boyish laugh resonates from him, it does something to you, the familiar scratchiness of it inscribed in your mind from long ago. the corner of his eyes crinkled, "shit i guess i do," he said. "mhmm," you hummed, nodded along in laughter.

"the reunion," he cleared his throat, "i mean first off, this is not even close to being as bad as your day," he precautioned.

"just get on with it," you rolled your eyes.

twisting and fiddling the ring on his pinky, "just saw everyone doing really well, what with oikawa and iwaizumi being on olympic teams, even mattsun has a steady career and plan you know? i think i'm second guessing myself? i thought i was living life, having fun, but sometimes everything feels like filler before death.”

you nodded along to him, listening intently. you had always known makki to be more of a free spirit so this was rare.

"we all have those days," you mumble under your breath.

you let a comfortable silence fall between you, rummaging your bag for the slightly squished convenience store sandwich and your earphones.

"it’s tough huh, trying to find our place now.” you said, handing him one side of your earphones.

“yeah, so much easier when you’re two dumbasses goofing around, playing with erasers and tic tac toe during class," he slotted in the bud, and you do the same, as the ambient music filled your ears.

“you and mattsun?" you probed.

“no you, you and me.” for second his playful facade falters. his eyes lingering on yours as you held each other captive, your stare burning through his enigmatic grey eyes, a raw emotional intensity that made it seem like time had slowed down, neither of you finding the courage to make a move in the moment of impenetrable tension.

"i guess the rain is quite fitting for a day like this." you finally dared to look away, taking in the storm weathering just beyond your window, "but somehow i feel a little better now makki. maybe it's your pink hair."

"you do love it," he said, "i feel a little better too," he whispered, and you barely catch it.

—

he took a deep breath in, releasing it in a heavy sigh. “miyagi air right? nothing like it.”

“can’t tell if you’re a free spirit or an old man now.” you stepped off the platform, bags in hand.

"let me walk you tonight. you don’t have an umbrella.”

“neither do you?” you pointed out, handing him one of your bags as the both of you walked towards the exit.

"don't worry, i've got a plan," he winked a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

—

the wind howls, your hair violently blowing into his face, "this was your genius plan makki? run a little faster will you!" you shout over the blaring pour of the rain, incredulous.

"easy for you to say, you're not the one hauling your heavy ass bag." one of your bags slung around his shoulder, arms stretched around the both of you as he holds his jacket up for cover. well, your cover, his exposed side completely drenched.

"we're close," you called out, awkwardly trudging across the puddle ridden road, his warmth emanating from beside you as your heart raced in your chest, though you couldn't decide if that was the rain or makki, more probably both you finally decided.

"we actually made it in one piece." you breathe a sigh of relief as you finally made it under the roof of your home, catching your breath a little as he twisted his rain soaked jacket.

"what are you waiting for? aren't you gonna open it?" he asked.

"okay what?"

"open the door?"

"i don't have the keys, they got stolen remember?" you said dubiously, now working the water out of your clothes as he gave you a baffled look.

"what? how are we gonna get in?

"well i assumed you had the keys?"

"how in the world would in have your keys?"

"in that confe-, letter i gave you? said you were here all the time you might as well have the key and gave you a key?"

"letter? what letter, y/n?"

"wait the letter...you didn't receive it?" the colour in your face drained, you took a sudden notice to his drenched figure.

"you're soaked dumbass." you say in an attempt to quickly move on, unzipping your bag to pull out a fresh t-shirt. he tries to stop you but you don't let him.

"shut up just let me do this makki." you pull on his forearm, tugging him down to meet your eye-level, his face inches from yours as you gently pat his face and neck dry.

"is this just an excuse to kiss me?" the same lazy smirk playing on his face again but his expression morphs into an unreadable one, eyes clouding, "the letter," he whispered looking down at you, his bangs skirting his lashes as you dabbed his cheek with a t-shirt.

"you wish you could kiss me," you joke.

"i do wish," he doesn't.

"was it a confession?" you didn't answer him, "can i kiss you makki?" the burning desire held off long enough as you somehow found the courage to ask.

makki broke into a smile, clumsily taking your hands in his, hurriedly dragging you back into the rain shower. hard rain hitting you, massaging your head, but even as you felt your senses become overwhelmed your attention was still singly engrossed by the man in front of you.

"what are you doing? i just patted you dry!" you reprimanded him, shouting over the pour of the rain, looking up at him, now 6'1, his soft gaze easily slipping past your faux stern one.

"it's more dramatic this way," he whispered, his hand gently caressing your face, thumb running circles on the now flushed apples of your cheek, his eyes becoming clearer to you as you finally begun to understand the liquid grey eyes that held you captive for so long. your heart speeding up again, butterflies fluttering aggressively in your stomach.

you tiptoed a little, eagerly reaching a hand into his now drenched strawberry pink hair that you were always so fixated on. he responded in kind, securing an arm around your waist, hoisting you up, you body colliding into his warmth, lower lip tingling a little as he traced it with his slightly calloused thumb. finally, he cups your jaw, taking your lips in his.

his lips warm, soft, impossibly plush against your own, the soft tickle of your hair on his cheek, your honeyed taste playing on his tongue, the shared warmth between you melding into one, your heartbeat synchronous, in perfect parallel with your harmonised movement. lips slightly parted, he bit your lower lip as you moaned a little.

"you think the neighbours can see us?" you pulled away, holding his cheeks in your hands, still in a slight daze.

"don't know, don't care."

"when did it become a drizzle?" you asked as he shrugged in response, desperate to capture your lips in his again.

and you guys stood there, in the light drizzle of the rain, soft rays of sunlight finally peaking through the glum clouds, making out for the audience of your entire neighbourhood, enjoying the petrichor of the rain. because yeah you were still locked out of your house, yeah you were probably getting fired and yeah he still didn't know shit about what he was gonna do, but everything seemed just a little bit better.

"i guess the rain was quite fitting for a day like this.��

sol's comments: can you tell i have no idea how to write a makeout scene? :")

m.list | each and every reblop is appreciated ☻ (+ free hugs)

[rayslittlekitten]

I Almost Told You That I Loved You - Ch. 3

Chapter 2 | IATYTILY Masterlist | Chapter 4

A/N: Hey y'all! Sorry, Jax and his stubborn ass has been giving me a hard time with this story.  Will was a good distraction with that teacher/student fic to help with some of the creative frustration I've had with this, but I think we've got something going now. Hope the ball keeps rolling.

Rating: T

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! Reader

Contains: underage drinking

When Jax comes back with two hands full of beer and a cigarette hanging from his lips, people start grabbing bottles from him.  You stand to the side and wait until everyone gets theirs first.  You're still a bit embarrassed about him catching you looking at him. When Jax is down to two beers in his hands, he looks around and sees you empty handed.  He walks over to you and hands you a bottle. 

"Thank you," you say and take the bottle from him. As you go to grab the bottle, your fingers accidentally graze his and it sends a chill through your body.  You immediately take a huge swig of the beer to take some of the edge off. 

"You look nice." You hear Jax say but you don't realize he's talking to you until you bring your beer bottle down from your lips. It almost causes you to choke. He's also a lot closer to you than he was seconds earlier.

"Oh, thank you." You smile at him. You take another sip of your beer because now you're even more nervous.  You glance over at him and notice his eyes are all over you except for your eyes. Something below your waist has clearly gotten his attention. You look down at your legs and feet to see if maybe you stepped on something, but you don't see anything odd. You look back up at him and see him licking his lips.  Oh, guess you picked the right outfit.

Feeling your self-confidence boost a notch, you step closer to him and his eyes follow.

"You should take a picture. It'll last longer," you tell him.

Jax finally looks up at you, a little embarrassed.

"Oh, shit. Jax, your nine," someone in the group says.

"Hey, babe!" A woman out of nowhere comes up to him and plants a big kiss on his lips.

Jax backs up and gently pushes her away. "Whoa, hey."

You remember her from that time Jax had said struck up a conversation with you when he was waiting for someone.  She was that someone. 

"What are you doing here?" Jax asks.

"You haven't been answering my calls. I miss you," she says as she wraps her arms around one of his. 

Jax clearly looks uncomfortable as he tries to pry her off him.  You stand there wishing you had a bowl of popcorn with you as you watch this trainwreck unfold. Jax leads her away from the group.

"Uh oh, looks like Jax got himself into a bit of a situation again."

You follow the voice and a face you've seen before is standing near you.

"Does this happen to him often?" you ask him.

"I mean, ever since Tara left, he's just been burying himself in pussy. He's like a pussy magnet. Bitches are always all over him."

"Bro, seriously?" Opie gestures his hand in your general direction.

"What?" the guy asks. "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you and Jax like...?" he asks you.

Before you can even say anything, Opie jumps in.

"No, you're talking to a lady. Have some fucking respect."

You giggle at Opie's defense.

"Thank you, Opie. It's alright. I'm not a prude," you chuckle. 

While Jax disappears to handle his situation, you and this person who you learn his name is Frankie, is a friend of Jax and Opie's from high school.  You've seen him around the clubhouse before. You kind of stick to him and the group for the rest of the night as you're terrible at making friends and starting conversations with strangers although the beer is helping. At some point Frankie tells you something funny and you laugh so hard you let out a snort.  You turn away from the group to compose yourself and you notice Jax from across the lot looking in your general direction, smoking a cigarette.

Maybe it's wishful thinking, but he looks like he's actually looking directly at you.  For whatever reason, he doesn't look too thrilled. Maybe that situation with that girl soured what was supposed to be a fun time celebrating his best friend's birthday. You look around you and then look back at him.  He is definitely looking at you. How long has he been doing that for?

You then see the first woman you saw earlier when he was grabbing beers walk over to him and wrap her arms around his waist. It breaks his concentration and he looks over at her, putting his arm around her shoulder with a wide smile.  He then looks back over at you and takes a swig of his beer. 

What's his deal?

***

After nursing a few beers, your bladder is starting to get full so you excuse yourself from the group which got smaller as the night went on. When you come out of the bathroom in the clubhouse and make your way back, you bump into Jax with the same women you saw him with earlier in his arms as they make their way into the spare bedroom.

"I'll be right in," Jax tells her and nods his head towards the bedroom.  "Just gotta go take a leak." He watches her walk into the bedroom.  As you go to walk around him in the narrow hallway, Jax moves in your same direction, blocking your way.

"Sorry, excuse me," you say quietly, then move the other way, but Jax follows.

You go back to the other side but you're met with Jax's extended arm against the wall.

"You in a hurry, darlin'?" Jax asks, stepping into your personal space. “Have to run back to my boy Frankie?”

You realize the first time he got in your way was no accident. You smell whiskey, cigarettes and a faint scent of marijuana coming from him and see his eyelids are heavy.

“I don't have to run back to anyone," you tell him and try to slip through the space under his arm but he traps you between the wall and his body, placing his arms on each side of your head. He tries to read your face but he can't. For him, usually women are excited to find themselves in this situation, but you don't appear to be.

"What do you want, Jax?" You ask.

"I want you," Jax answers without a beat. He glances down at your lips and leans in to kiss you, but he's interrupted by the woman he left in the bedroom.

"JAX!" You both hear.  He turns towards the bedroom and then back to you, but you're not where he last saw you.  Instead he sees you walking down the hall and watches you walk away, purposely swaying your hips.  You look over your shoulder at him with a smirk.  If Jax Teller want this pussy, you're sure as hell going to make him work for it.

Chapter 4