#Top female Tattoo Artists in the world

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

July 21st

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1. Hiii!! I was looking for a fic where Wei Ying was captured and his memory was forcefully being shown to the cultivation world in a mirror. I think in one of the scenes he begged them to not do it which made the others think that he was indeed a criminal but well he was not. I have been searching for it but can't find it anywhere. @yilinglaobunny

FOUND? Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, WIP, WangXian, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Worth Issues)

For no 1 there is a whole collection you could try

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2. Hi! First, thank you for all your work!! It is so helpful.

I wanted to know if you could help me find a fanfic where Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao and Nie mingjue all swap bodies with each other. It seems to me that Lan Xichen becomes Nie Mingjue, Meng Yao becomes Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang becomes Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue becomes Meng Yao.

Thank you in advance for your time

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3. There was a fic where it was implied that Wei Wuxian was s*xually (sexually) abused in Yunmeng Jiang as punishment (Not explicitly shown). So when he gets to do punishment with Lần Wangji in Cloud Recesses he gets on his knees and starts untying Lan Wangji’s sash, which spooks him and yards yadda happens Lan Wangji reports it to Lan Xichen. Can’t find it, would love to revisit

FOUND? Hands a tent, he is praying or he is crying by Amity_Bell (M, 6k, WIP, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Child Abuse)

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4. Hello! I'm looking for a wangxian fic where Wei Ying ask Lan Zhan for his first born. I think Wei Ying is a witch? Thank you! @seke19

FOUND? 💖 spider lilies to sunflowers by cicer (E, 33k, wangxian, ABO, YL WWX, fairy tale elements, mpreg, omega LWJ, lwj topping from the bottom)

FOUND? take a sip of my secret potion (one taste and you'll be mine) by sweetlolixo (E, 16k, WangXian, F/F, Dark Fairytale, Witch WWX, Princess LWJ, Rule 63, Female LWJ/Female WWX, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Dragon LWJ, Identity Porn, Love Potion/Spell, Pregnant WWX, Childhood Friends, Fem!LWJ has a Dragon Dick!)

FOUND? A Sorta Fairytale With You by Speak_friend (E, 8k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Fluff and Smut, Fairy Tale Elements, Hand Jobs, animal injury (he got better!))

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5. Hello!! Im not sure if this was already asked but im looking for this multichapter fic where all in the first chapter, it is revealed that jiang cheng imprisoned wei ying and a-yuan in this shed i think?? But after years wei ying manages to free a-yuan and he runs to the cloud recesses to get help @draconislyra

FOUND? on restitution by glitteringmoonlight (M, 98k, LSZ & WWX, JL & WWX, WangXian, Dark JC, not for jc fans, Captivity, Angst with a Happy Ending, no reconciliation though, definitely no reconciliation, Crossdressing, Non-Graphic Torture, Violence)

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6. hiii admins ! i read a wangxian fic a few motnhs ago that i cannot find for the life of me :( it was modern with magic au, where wangji can see auras (mostly dark auras for anger) and red strings of fate form between people. He works at a garden shop/plant nursery with his brother and huaisang, wuxian works at a tattoo parlour with wen ning and wen qing + is a single dad to wen yuan afaik

FOUND! Demon Ink by Jade_Valentine (E, 189k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Tattoo Artist WWX, Magic, Chaotic Bisexual WWX, Demisexual LWJ, Slow Burn, Angst, Mutual Masturbation, Domestic Fluff, Welcome to my LWJ & NHS friendship agenda, Shower Sex, Brief mentions of past Lan Bro abuse at the hands of LQR, wangxian family feels, WWX is the Best Dad Ever, WWX's canonical abuse at the hands of YZY, Blow Jobs, Slight Make-Up Kink) Flower shop and tattoo parkor au LZ sees Dark energy coming off WY

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7. hii im looking for a bottomji fic wherein lwj and wwx was cursed with a sex curse fighting the xuanwu and lwj end up getting preggo magically 😂 ive been looking for fics with the same premise through ao3 but i seem to be looking at the wrong tags?? please help me 😭🙏 thank you so much!!❤️❤️❤️

FOUND? Questions at Dusk by ExtraPenguin (E, 18k, WangXian, Top WWX, Bottom LWJ, Mpreg, Lactation Kink, Class Issues, Hero Complex, Baby Animals)

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8. Hi! This is fic finder. It was modern au where the jiang is assasin. They have a restaurant as their base camp. WWX is YLLZ, top assasin with the jiang. But then he retires. LXC and LWJ is a thief. They work together with LQY (either LQY or MY or both). I think LWJ and WWX civilian self is dating each other. The lans gets a mission ro break into the wens. WQ at first help them but she betray them because the wen threatening her. The wens know LWJ existance and kidnapped him to lure HGJ (i think it was to lure his alter ego not YLLZ). But then WWX is the one who rescue him. I think i mixed two fic @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! all the problems we could solve by Stratisphyre (T, 20k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, LXC & LWJ, Modern, Getting Together, somewhat non-linear, Fluff and Humour and Violence, Meet-Cute, Identity Porn, Thieves, a bit of a leverage vibe)

NOT FOUND You Only Die Twice by Mikkeneko (T, 11k, WangXian, Assassins/Spies, Assassins & Hitmen, Modern AU, Mafia AU, Action, Moderate Violence, a lot of people die but no named characters, not exactly lan sect friendly, not exactly lan sect critical either, Assassin LWJ, Kindergarten Teacher WWX, coffee shop meet cute, Let LWJ Say Fuck, slightly cracky, Non-Linear Narrative)

NOT FOUND🔒 (i've got) trouble in mind by seularen (E, 76k, wangxian, JGY/LXC, modern w magic, heist au, thief WWX, forger LWJ, consigliere JGY, epistolary, long-distance relationship, d/d elements, Canon wangxian kinks, happy ending)

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9. Hello! I'm looking for a fic that was in my bookmarks but now I can't find it. The only thing I remember is this excerpt where LWJ and WWX where dueling/sparring and LWJ says yield while WWX is enthralled by his beauty and maybe says out loud how beautiful LWJ is. Thanks for your hard work!!!!!!

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10. hello im trying to find a married(?) wangxian fic where wei wuxian sees lan wangji talk to and hang out with a female lan member he doesn't recognize. he gets jealous and starts to think that lan wangji doesn't love him anymore. at the end they manage to clear the misunderstanding with the help of lan juniors @pleasehelpmesobad

FOUND! White Flag by incendir (T, 37k, WangXian, NHS/NZH, OMC/ OMC) from the Resolutions series by incendir

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11. Hello! Can you find a fic for me where wangxian want their own biological baby and find another lady to surrogate for them with the baby ending up being wei ying's and the lady's, and adopted into the lanclan by weiying and lanzhan?

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12. Pleasee!! help me find this fic. Sob okay so nsfw ask

Basically wangxian as usual is having loud af sex and literally everyone knows this now lqr is like why tf are they so loud. Then he decides that he's tired of them and goes and gets married to some man and literally at his wedding. Anyways, he finds out how good sex can be and wangxian is like, we can be louder than that @thatperson0-0

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13. oh my god i think i'm losing my mind... i just read this fic a few weeks ago, but i can't seem to find it anywhere!

wwx is a female in this and it's from lwj's pov, it wasn't finished i'm sure but idk if they decided to finish it in these weeks. they both go on a night hunt (?) and wwx gets cursed (?) or is hit with something and to help with that they both have sex. lwj confesses during it.

then later when they both are returning to cloud recess wwx asks lwj to forget about it but lwj is like 'i want to marry you'. wwx dismisses that saying 'you don't have to be responsible for this'. but lwj tries to persuade her but wwx keeps doding it and lwj thinks she doesn't want to be with him.

i really hope this work didn't go into hidden ones or is deleted :(

thank you so much for your work.

FOUND? ❤️ We'd roll and fall in green Series by x_los (G/E, 26k, WangXian, Gender Changes, Always a Different Sex, Accidental Marriage, Marriage Festivals, Holidays, Awkwardness, Fist Fights, Pining, Crushes, Sisters, Episode 7, mentioned canon-typical domestic abuse, mentioned canon-typical sexual violence (implication of minors), (not depicted just discussed as possibility), First Kiss, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Politics, School, Horror, Murder Mystery, Road Trips, Bitchy LWJ, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Competence Kink, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Self-Sacrifice, Battle Couple)

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14. I lost a fanfiction and I hope someone here can help me ;-;

It was wangxian set to marry with Wei Ying leaving the Jiang Sect before meeting Lan Zhan. He kept meeting Jiang Disciples send to spy on him. I’m afraid I don’t remember anything else :( @kanrax-blog

FOUND? Bitter Endings; New Beginnings by miixz (T, 7k, wangxian, WN & WWX, major character death, ABO, Arranged Marriage, Unrequited Love, Stalking, Not JC Friendly, Unrequited JC/WWX, Alpha JC, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, No War au, Wēn Remnants Live, Brothers WWX & WN, Light Angst, Fluff, Falling In Love, endgame wangxian)

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15. Hi! For fic finder I am looking for a fic which is Cloud Recesses study arc au. In it WWX grew up either as a disciple of Baoshan Sanren or his parents were alive and he travelled with them; ie he did not grow up in Lotus Pier. He hears about Cloud Recesses and tries to sneak in to explore but Wangji catches him. It happens to be the start of the lectures so WWX pretends he is part of the Jiang group and Yanli and Cheng play along. WWX goes on to charm everyone and is oodles above his classmates in knowledge and sword skills. I can’t remember how the story ends, whether it is just the lecture arc or if it goes into the Sunshot Campaign. Please help, thank you!

FOUND! Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, wangxian, BSSR/LY, Alternate Universe, a story full of tragic pining gays, and one chaotic gremlin, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s disciple)

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16. I am looking for a modern fic where Lan Wangji ran a bakery and Wei Wuxian was a doctor, or possibly vice versa. The doctor ran in before his shift to grab some treats for his nursing staff and I think it was before the bakery opening hours but the baker let them in anyway. The doctor began to stop by more frequently and possibly taste tested for the baker (an excuse to hang around). Would love to read this again, thank you! @gloriousclotpole

FOUND! crystalized by gusuvibes (M, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Bakery, Pining, Getting Together, Baker LWJ, Nurse WWX, Zizhen in a STARRING ROLE, Bunnies With Bad Names, Elaborate Descriptions of Delicious Baked Goods, Frottage, Eventual Smut, SexyBakingTime)

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17. Hiiiii. Please can you help me find a fic. I dont remember much of it - just vague parts.

It was a time travel fic in which wangxian went back to their teenage years and were trying to set things right. I remember 1 part in which wangxian was trying to decide what to do with small mxy and wwx was against bringing him to cloud recesses. I believe it was because he was insecure about having mxy close to lwj when in their future, lwj was married to/ intimate with mxy's body.

Please see if you can find it or anything similar 🙏

FOUND?🔒 Here With Me by iamwish (T, 58k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon-Typical Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Bad Parent YZY, POV WWX, POV LWJ, POV JC, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Has PTSD, and also depression sometimes, Unreliable Narrator) There's a bit in the last chapter (of the first fic in the series) where WWX remembers MXY & rules out bringing him to the Lan as an option due to awkwardness, & sends him to WQ instead

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18. Hi there, request for the fic finder? Lost the tab I had it on and can’t remember the name. Only made it to chapter two.

It was Huaisang POV? First chapter was Wen Ning helping him sneak outta the Wen Indoctrination place, second chapter was Huaisang trying to break Wen Ning out of the Jin Basement/jail. Idk what happened in chapter three, lost the tab before I could read it.

Distinctly remember Huaisang whacking a dude over the head with a table in chap 1.

Cheers :)

FOUND? Jailbreaking by CullenBlue (T, 21k, WN & NHS, Canon Compliant, POV NHS, NHS Is A Little Shit, Cinnamon Roll WN, Fierce Corpse WN, Ghost General WN, References to Heavens Official’s Blessing, References to The Scum Villain’s Self Saving System, NHS insulting the Wen Clan’s taste in interior Decorating, Mentions of Murder, WN made a friend by talking about his childhood trauma, BAMF WN, Panic Attacks, mentions of gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Violence in the Name of Comedy, Trauma, Is NHS taking anything seriously? who knows, Bromance)

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19. hello, this is a ff request. i think it's a royalty au, might have been an ongoing series while i read it. i remember that wangxian get married, wwx births twins, but falls unconscious/ill after giving birth. i may be mixing fics up, but i think one of the children is a-yuan, while the other is an OC who is born with weak health. there are discussions for moving him to yunmeng as an older child due to the warmer weather. i think wq married nmj and moved to qinghe, jc and nhs are in yunmeng, and jyl and jzx are in lanling. mxy, whom wwx rescued and "adopted", follows wwx to gusu when he married lwj. again, idk if all of this is the same fic, or if i have mixed them up, but i hope this rings a bell for someone, many thanks!

FOUND! Lost in Diplomacy by Subtleladybird (M, 90k, WangXian, Historical, Royalty, Imperial Pair, Historical Inaccuracy, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Harem, Politics, Angst, Mpreg, Miscommunication, Brotherly Love, Not really a harem, more like one spoiled non-rival, Time Skips, Pregnancy, Violence, Childbirth, Miscarriage, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Married Couple)

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20. Hi FicFinder! This is my first time requesting for a fic to be found, so I'm sorry if I'm bad at describing TvT

The fic I'm looking for is basically JGY spikes the Lan's tea during the Sunshot Campaign, and it results in JC and JYL thinking that WWX got r*ped (raped) by LWJ. It was found consensual in the end, tho after getting WQ to look at it. Also, there's JGY redemption iirc?

Thx sm <333 @diablolunaticofthemoon

FOUND! The Teapot Plot by ToxicAngel13 (M, 52k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Misunderstandings, Plots, protective Jiang siblings, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Idiots in Love, Damn Jins, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Pre-Burial Mounds, Potential for M-Preg, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idiots Everywhere, LWJ ’s Biting Kink, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective WQ, JGS is his own warning, Protective JYL)

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[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): explicit language, suggestive themes, kissing, romantic tension

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: Part Six of Ink & Needle

You and Simon come face to face inside Dancing Faun.

Chapter Five // Chapter Seven

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

“Ready to go, Bravo?”

Simon shrugs on his coat and glances at the German Shepard. Bravo’s nails clack clack against the floor of the tattoo parlor as he takes a spot next to the door. He sits at attention, ears straight and alert as he clutches his leash in his maw.

They do this every Sunday and Bravo knows the routine.

Sighing, Simon walks up to Bravo and takes the leash. The dog surrenders it easily, but the moment Simon grabs hold, he recoils.

“Christ, Bravo. Need to get that under control, yeah?” Simon shakes the leather leash free of Bravo’s drool.

Bravo makes a pitiful little whine in answer. Simon reaches out to scratch the top of the dog’s head before going to one knee to secure the leash to Bravo’s collar. Getting down is the easy part. It’s the standing again that always aches.

Simon’s bad leg is acting up today. At least, more than usual. It has been months since Simon went to physical therapy, and he might need to start working it back into his schedule if this is going to be his new normal.

Wincing as he pushes off from the floor, Simon wraps the end of the leash around his fist. It’s habit, and more for the sanity of others than himself. Bravo is well-trained. Used to be a bomb dog for one of the many SAS divisions.

During his time on base, Simon would always take time to play fetch with the military dogs. Sometimes they were ones he worked with directly, while others just happened to be on base at the time with their units. Maybe it was Riley’s shadow that always prompted him to do it. He loved that dog, and a little piece of Simon went missing when he died.

Then Bravo came along, and their retirements just happened to fall around the same time.

Simon couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

It’s Sunday. And Sunday is Simon’s day to do whatever the hell he wants.

No work. No computer. No phone. No exercise.

Nothing but him, Bravo, and drinks at Dancing Faun.

Simon isn’t bothered there, and he’s thankful for that. When he first moved to the area, Simon kept ending up in pubs where people his age or a bit younger frequented. He was never left alone at those places. Someone would eventually approach him. Either it was some drunk wanker trying to fight him, or someone wanting him to take them home.

No one bothers Simon at Dancing Faun. Most of the people who come in are much older than Simon, and a good many of the men are veterans themselves. They understand Simon and his need for a bit of solitude. The owner of the pub, Ben, is also good at keeping strangers away.

Maybe it’s the balaclava that attracts them. Maybe it’s the mystery. People are attracted to danger, and while Simon left that life a few years ago, he’s never shaken his violent shadow. Retirement can’t erase the people he’s killed or the enemies he’s put away. That life is sticky. No matter how hard you scrub at it, a residue always remains.

But Dancing Faun is Simon’s one refuge from the whole world. He can drink, think about absolutely fucking nothing, and catch a football or rugby match. Afterwards, he goes home and searches through his contacts for someone willing to have it off for a bit.

It’s just physical. Only flesh. An attempt on his part to fill a vacant hole.

But today, Simon doesn’t need to call anyone, because you’re here. He knows that now without a solitary doubt. When you appeared in the doorway of his shop, Simon truly believed he hallucinated the whole thing.

But he imagined nothing.

You are real and whole and here. Somewhere.

Simon just needs to figure out how to make you come to him. He needs to make it happen.

Exiting through 141 Ink’s front door, Simon secures the deadbolts behind him. Bravo remains at Simon’s side, alert but happy, his tongue hanging out of his open mouth. At the very end of the street on the corner is Dancing Faun.

The outside of the pub is a deep, forest green with gold accents including the sign and lettering. The door is solid black with no window, just a silhouette of a faun holding a pipe. Simon pushes open the door and steps inside, Bravo right on his heels.

It’s still early, and no one is at this pub or any pub at this hour. But Ben always opens a little early just for Simon.

The inside is dimly lit, only a few of the lamps on the wall are actually on. The hanging ones above the bar are on but that’s it. The overcast morning light isn’t helping much. One of the televisions is already on displaying a repeat of a rugby match.

When the door shuts behind Simon, he hears a familiar voice call out to him.

“That you, Simon?”

“It’s me,” he replies, bending down to unlatch the leash from Bravo’s collar. When the latch is released, Bravo pads over to their usual spot at the bar, sitting patiently on the right side of the stool.

Ben appears from around the corner carrying a plate. He’s older than Simon but not by much. The guy has about ten years on him. When Simon takes a seat on his usual stool, Ben sets the plate down in front of Simon, grinning.

It’s a full English with double of everything. While the pub doesn’t consistently serve food, Ben’s wife always makes Simon breakfast every Sunday morning. It’s tradition at this point.

Next to the plate, Ben sets down Simon’s beer and a cup of breakfast tea.

“Saw you on the cover of that magazine. Congrats. It’s deserved.” Ben leans against the bar top as Simon reaches up and removes the balaclava, setting it aside.

Ben doesn’t even blink or flinch. Why would he? Simon isn’t ugly. The few scars on Simon’s face don’t detract from his features. He might hide behind the balaclava but it isn’t because Simon hates himself.

Far from it.

He has a persona to put on. He needs separation between himself and everyone else. The people who meet him and come get tattooed all expect “Ghost” and “Ghost” wears a mask. Ben doesn’t give a shit about “Ghost,” and so Simon goes without when it’s just the two of them.

“Thanks,” replies Simon, taking a sip of tea before deciding what part of his plate he wants to tackle first. “How’s business?”

“Steady. Rent’s going up. As are my bloody taxes.” Ben shakes his head and Simon slices through one of the roasted tomatoes. “Fucking Tories and Labour can’t fucking agree on one bloody fu—” Ben glances up and immediately stops talking. “Sorry.” He holds both hands up in a placating gesture. “No politics on Sunday.”

Simon smirks. “Can I have my tea first?”

Ben drops his hands and leans against the bar top again. “But—and hear me out—if you have friends in the government…” He waves one of his hands around absently to indicate his point.

“I was military. You know this.”

“I’m aware, Simon. I’m only saying—”

“Don’t,” chuckles Simon as he cuts up the sausage on his plate.

Ben waves him off. “I know. But it’s the same bloody thing in the end.”

Simon snorts and grabs his tea. “No politics on Sunday, Ben.”

Ben gives a mocking, half-hearted salute before changing the subject. “Christmas is coming up in a couple months. Heading to the Highlands again?”

Every Christmas, Johnny invites Simon out to the Scottish Highlands to stay with his family. They spend most of their time on the MacTavish farm. It’s quiet out there, and Simon enjoys it.

Simon doesn’t have anyone. His family is gone. In the ground. Johnny knows this which is why he started inviting Simon ever since they first started working together. Gaz has come out a few times, and even Price showed up once for a short hunting trip.

But this year? Simon isn’t sure. You’re here now, but he has no idea for how long. If you’ll be in England for the foreseeable future, would you go with him? Would Johnny be okay with that?

The toast sticks in Simon’s throat and he has to wash it down with the remaining tea.

“That’s the plan,” he replies because it’s the only semi-truthful answer he can give.

Ben nods and taps the top of the counter. There’s a clatter from the direction of the kitchen and Ben sighs, his eyebrows rising slightly in a goodbye as he heads in the direction of the noise.

After that, Ben leaves Simon alone. He cleans the bar and glassware, puttering around Simon as he readies the place. When Simon finishes, Ben takes the plate, and then promptly offers it to Bravo who licks it clean.

The balaclava is back in place once the first wave of customers begins to roll in.

A few come in at a time—all of them old men who know each other. Regulars. Retirees who come in every day. They either scatter about individually or cluster in small groups near a television. Several of them acknowledge Simon with a nod of the head. Two take up spots at the bar.

Simon finishes his second beer and moves on to a third, considering when he’s going to switch over to whiskey. He always does. The door of the pub opens again and Simon takes a long swig of the golden amber liquid in his glass.

“Amelia! Usual spot?” calls out Ben.

The door is not in Simon’s line of sight, but he knows Amelia. She’s one of three women who comes to the pub on Sunday. Ben always puts on American baseball for her. She’s chatty, and has—on occasion—talked Simon’s ear off. But she’s sweet, and he’s never minded the attention. Sometimes, she even brings vegetables from her garden, and Simon always appreciates the gesture when she does.

“You know it, Ben,” replies Amelia.

“Already have it on.” Simon notices Ben’s sudden shift. His shoulders sharpen, back straightening as he watches something. It’s not confusion. Not exactly. Surprise? “And you brought guests.”

Guests. As in, plural. As in, multiple.

“Just the two,” laughs Amelia. “And only one is drinking. This one will need some tea and perhaps something to eat?”

Curious, Simon shifts slightly in the stool, bringing his glass up to his mouth for a drink to hide that interest in who it is that Amelia brought with her.

The first thing he notices is a young woman cradling a pregnant belly. He knows that familiar face. Evelyn. She stopped by his shop yesterday and introduced herself. But that’s not the first time Simon has seen her. She’s your friend, the one you were with at Riot Room. Simon saw her face every time his gaze was on you, and then again when he tore apart Riot Room’s security system in search of you.

Simon still has the old grainy video. He’s watched it so many times with the hope that he’d pick up on something. A clue that might lead you to him again. Three years he’s watched that surveillance feed. Three years and he hasn’t let you go.

Evelyn’s cheeks are rosy from the cold and she grins widely at Ben. Simon escorted her across the street and to The Bird after they chatted for a few minutes. People drive fast on it, which is true, but he was also curious. He thought that if she was around, you would also be around.

When he saw you there in that café, reality started to sink in. But he didn’t say anything. He simply stared like a bloody idiot and then politely excused himself. Simon isn’t shy, but he wouldn’t necessarily call himself bold. It was more like a subtle realization that Simon isn’t crazy, that he didn’t imagine you in the doorway, that these three years have only been preparing him for your return.

Simon’s gaze slides past Evelyn and lands on the woman standing behind her. He freezes, his glass halfway to his mouth.

You see him. And Simon sees you.

You’re here. In this pub. With him.

And you cannot run this time. There is no possibility to bolt without causing a scene. You’ve come to him, and now all Simon needs to do is get you to talk to him. That’s all he really wants. He wants to hear your voice, to find some understanding, to know if this obsession is entirely one-sided.

Simon observes your eyes widening and the soft inhalation as your lips part in surprise. He knows those lips. He’s kissed those lips. Felt them against his skin. They are a brand and those parts of him that know the memory of your mouth heat with desire.

The muscles in his legs are poised for action. They tell him to get up. To go to you. To drag you into his arms and take you away from prying eyes. Because Simon wants answers as much as he wants to revel in your warmth and return to those memories.

He’s been feasting on that old encounter, dishing out little fragments at a time to staunch the hunger but never enough to keep it away. This is his chance. This is his opportunity. Right now. In this place.

Something will happen between the two of you. Simon knows this in his very marrow.

As if suddenly realizing who it is you’re staring at, you quickly glance away from Simon, gaze focused on the back of Evelyn’s head or a point beyond. Simon wants to draw your gaze back to him. He hates that he cannot take action.

Because he will. Simon will take action now that you’re completely in his sights. But he needs to be strategic about it.

Amelia grabs hold of Evelyn’s upper arm and begins guiding the two of you around the pub. The damn woman stops at every table. Speaks to every person. It’s like Amelia is dragging this out on purpose.

Simon does not look away once. You have all his attention, and perhaps you know this. You’re so…ridged, and Simon senses an uneasiness to the way you forcibly smile at every person you meet.

He is so absorbed in your presence that he doesn’t hear Ben calling to him.

“Simon.”

Simon hears his name in the distance. He ignores it, instead watching as you move on to another table.

“Simon.” This time Ben leans into Simon’s line of sight, snapping his fingers.

Simon blinks and then shifts his gaze in Ben’s direction. Ben frowns, and Simon immediately softens his features. He doesn’t need to look in a mirror to know he likely looks irritated.

Ben nods toward the glass. “Want another?”

Simon pushes the empty stein toward him in silent answer. Ben snags it and tucks it away somewhere, grabbing a clean one to fill. When he sets it down on the bar top and Simon reaches for it, Ben draws it out of his reach. “You’re acting funny.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Simon dryly, knowing exactly what Ben is referring to.

Ben snorts and then pushes the newly poured beer in Simon’s direction. Simon takes it and immediately takes a long drink. It doesn’t burn going down, but it’s not soothing either. Simon is on edge. He can feel it, like a venomous snake curled up in a pile of leaves.

Amelia turns and you follow, moving ever closer to him. She comes to a stop at the two men sitting near each other at the bar. Amelia is all smiles, as is Evelyn, but your smile has slipped into a neutral stare that only makes Simon sad. Like before, there is a weariness under your eyes that he longs to rub away.

Is it him? Does the very idea of the two of you coming together again bother you?

Simon immediately dismisses the idea. He noticed the tiredness when you were standing in the doorway of his shop. There is something else going on, something deeper, and Simon wants to know what it is. If he can, he will take it from you if that will ease the burden. That is, if you’ll allow him to.

The conversation between Amelia and the two men ends quickly. She guides you and Eveyln in Simon’s direction, and then you’re right there, in front of him, and Amelia is beaming like she’s just achieved some lofty goal.

“This is Simon,” she says casually, gesturing toward him, but Simon notices the underlying mischievousness to Amelia’s smile. “Runs the tattoo parlor just a few shops down. He’s the only young one we allow around here.”

Amelia’s grin is infectious, the kind that could make anyone smile. But Simon isn’t smiling. He’s too focused on you. He is so goddamn close. Simon could reach out and easily pull you right into his lap.

Amelia pats your shoulder. “I know the two of you know each other, but it’s been a while. How about you two catch up and Evie and I will go enjoy the game.”

Even though Amelia is speaking to you, she’s staring at Simon as she talks.

What are you up to, Amelia?

Her eyebrows rise slightly and Simon understands. She knows about you and Simon, at least to a certain capacity. Why else would she be abandoning you to him?

Evelyn’s grin is just as wide. Her gaze keeps darting between you and Simon with clear hope in the way she clutches her hands together in front of her chest.

“Amelia—” you interject, clearly frazzled.

“Sit,” insists Amelia, quickly ushering Evie away to her usual table in the far corner.

At first, you simply stand there, and Simon believes that you might turn your back on him and walk away. But you don’t. You don’t walk away from him nor do you break eye contact.

Slowly, you sink down on the stool next to him. Your gaze keeps darting across and over his face, like you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Are you trying to remember him? Are you relearning him the way he’s currently relearning you?

“What will it be?” asks Ben, his gaze expectant.

You slightly turn your head in Ben’s direction to address him but you’re too focused on Simon. It’s a victory. A win. Simon knows he’s won in some capacity by how intensely you’re focused in on him.

“I’ll take whatever he’s drinking.” Ben shrugs and grabs a glass, filling it up before sliding it over to you. “Thank you,” you murmur.

Simon notices Ben’s attention shift to him. It’s a silent ask to make sure Simon is fine. That he’s not being bothered. But you’re not a bother, and Simon gives the look no acknowledgment. No one is going to take you away from him.

Never.

Simon sits up straighter, shifting in his stool. He keeps one arm on the bar top, but the other rests against his leg, his hand poised on his knee. Your knee is touching his, and the very tips of his fingers brush against your jeans.

It’s an electric jolt when Simon makes contact. But it’s also his way of pushing a boundary. Will you accept his touch or move out of it?

There is a span of breath, and it is you that speaks first.

“Hello,” you say weakly, brow softening.

Your voice is a remedy, the embrace after a long absence. Simon revels in it, absorbs it into himself, devours the quality of those syllables until it repeats in a pounding rhythm within his brain.

He is happy. He is whole.

“Hello,” replies Simon, and the sultry purr in his voice is unstoppable.

There is no going back. There is no return to how things were. You are all that Simon needs. Forget the shop and all of his responsibilities. You are finally here, not just a dream or memory.

That old encounter is now new and fresh. It is yesterday as much as it is three years ago.

You blink, mouth forming into a smile that stretches toward your ears. It is genuine and soft, and you glance down at your hands in embarrassment, trying to hide from him.

But you’re not allowed to hide from him. Simon wants everything. He wants those delicate lines and your harshness. He wants this smile to be aimed at him, to know that it is he that makes you happy.

When you glance up again, your smile is a bit gentler, but it only makes Simon eager.

“You’re a tattoo artist?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“You sound surprised,” replies Simon.

“Well, yes. I—” You pause, and then try again. “When I met you at Riot Room you seemed…dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” he laughs.

“Yes.”

“And yet you left with me?”

You glance away quickly, and stare at your fingers where they rub at the condensation on your glass. “Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.”

Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.

Safe. You felt—feel? —safe with him.

“What is it that you think I did for a living?” asks Simon, amusement creeping into his tone.

“Wasn’t tattoo artist,” you reply softly, lifting the glass for a small sip.

Simon’s index finger moves of its own accord, tracing slow circles over your knee. It feels natural to touch you, and you don’t pull away from him.

“I was military.”

“Was?” you ask, one eyebrow arching in curiosity.

There is so much Simon can say after that. And so much he can’t. Simon considers every possible answer before telling you the truth. “Forced into retirement. Sustained a few permanent injuries in the field.”

You surprise Simon, not because you apologize for something out of your control but because you reach out and take his hand. Squeezing softly, you look him in the eye, and the gaze is so direct that it startles him.

“And I’m sure you were very good at what you did.”

“The best,” replies Simon instantly.

The smile that spreads across your face is beautiful. He wants to capture it, to press his mouth to yours and steal it for himself.

“How long are you here for?” asks Simon, changing the subject.

You shrug. “Not entirely sure. A while.”

“And how long is a while?” Simon needs to know. Will he only have you for a few days or will he have you for weeks? Months?

“I’m supposed to be picking up a visa at the US Embassy next week. It’s being expedited but I still came early. Someone is working very hard behind the scenes to make it happen.”

You don’t elaborate, and Simon isn’t sure if he should push the subject or not. Visas typically last up to six months depending on what kind it is, and that gives him hope.

“So, you’ll be around?” he asks with just the slightest bit of hesitation.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll be around.”

Relief floods Simon’s veins. There will be plenty of time with you. He will make the most of it.

“Are you staying with Amelia?” prompts Simon, his gaze quickly shifting to find the woman across the pub. She’s sipping on her beer, but it’s clear that her attention isn’t really on the television.

“I am. The two of you know each other.”

Simon’s gaze returns to your face. “I know everyone who comes in.”

“Self-proclaimed old man, then?” you tease.

Simon grins, chuckles. “That an issue?”

“No,” you laugh softly, and it’s then that Simon realizes you’re still holding onto his hand. Your palm is warm and comforting. It isn’t slack or limp. It is present, clutching his with gentleness.

“Have any availability in your schedule?” The question surprises Simon. “For a tattoo that is.”

Technically, he has zero room in his schedule for the next few months, and will likely be booked out even longer once he starts chipping away at all those goddamn emails in his inbox. But for you? He’ll make room. Fuck everyone else.

“Tell me when and what time and I’ll make it happen.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

You lick your lips and Simon follows the movement, wanting to lean into that. To taste and remember. But he holds back. There will be a time for him to do so, but not right this second. No matter how badly he wishes for it to be so.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to call you,” you say with an awkward smile and shrug of your shoulders. “Ghost is what you told me at Riot Room but Amelia called you—”

“Simon,” he interjects. “To you, I’m Simon.”

“But Ghost—”

Simon’s hold on your hand tightens. “I know what I said. But Ghost is…a persona. He is separate, and I don’t want to be separate with you.”

“Simon,” you say slowly, rolling his name around on your tongue.

His name sounds so sweet in your mouth. He wants to know all the ways you can say it. How would you say his name when he finally kisses you again? Or when his mouth is on your body and between your legs? What will his name sound like when he’s buried deep inside you? How will his name sound then?

“I like the way you say my name,” he whispers, and the words leave him without second thought.

Your eyes widen. Your lips part. And Simon squeezes your hand again, shifting a little closer to you on the stool.

This place is too public. There are too many eyes on you. Simon needs to take you away. There are questions that still sit heavy in his mind. Things he wants to know.

His thumb runs over the back of your hand. “Will you come with me? Outside? Just for a bit?”

“Simon,” you murmur, and it takes everything in him not to groan with pleasure.

“Please,” and Simon is close to begging.

You glance over your shoulder at Amelia and Evelyn. They aren’t looking this way, and that seems to do it.

“Okay,” you agree, not even asking him where it is he plans on taking you.

Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.

Simon slides out of his stool, standing, towering over you. Bravo perks up but Simon shakes his head at him. “Stay here, Bravo.” Bravo’s ears droop slightly but the dog puts his head back down.

You stand, too, never taking your eyes off of him. While your gaze is a rush, it’s your hand which still clutches his that makes Simon tingle all over. That is what he clings to, latches on to skin against skin.

He steps back and you step forward. You are following him, moving with him, and Simon’s blood is singing, thrumming with victory, rushing to a place it shouldn’t but is.

When the two of you turn the corner down the hall, Simon tries not to rush. He is eager but fuck—he needs to control himself. This could easily spiral out of his control if he doesn’t reel himself in. It doesn’t matter how much Simon wants you. If you’re not interested, he can’t push for it.

But you’re following him. You’re talking with him. You’re holding his goddamn hand.

He can’t be wrong about this.

The two of you approach the door to the private patio, and Simon almost snaps. There is a small alcove under the stairs. Simon has to control himself, to not push you up against the wall there in the dark, and kiss you until you become soft and compliant in his arms.

Instead, Simon inhales deeply, and pushes open the door to the patio.

It’s small, just a few tables with chairs and a couple of portable heaters. The patio itself is in the alleyway that cuts through the entire street, pushing up against a row of houses and a few businesses. There is a privacy fence that keeps out any potential onlookers. Simon only comes out here to smoke, and while he could go for a cigarette, he’d rather go for you.

Leading you to a bench pressed up against the wall of the building, Simon finds a spot right under one of the heaters. It’s cold out but it’s still fall. The coats are enough but he’s not risking shit. Either the heater will keep you warm or he will.

The two of you sink down onto the bench, and still, you do not let go of his hand. Simon refuses to be first. If you won’t let go, he won’t either.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes as if trying to calm your nerves. Simon cannot hold back what it is he wants to ask.

“Why did you run?”

Your eyes snap open, and you turn toward him. He sees the sorrow, and the battle behind your gaze. You’re finding the words, gathering your thoughts, and Simon silently hopes that you do not try to lie to him.

“At Riot Room?”

He shakes his head. “Not just there. Outside the shop, too.”

You blink. Look away. Glance back. The very bottoms of your eyelids are watery. Simon does not want to be the reason you cry, but you ran from him twice. Bolted. At Riot Room, he was hurt. Devasted. He didn’t understand.

Outside his tattoo parlor, that exit he can dismiss. It’s been three years and you were probably shocked. But that first escape haunts him lays across his skin like a ghost.

“I’m sorry I ran from you,” you whisper.

Simon shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

You glance down at your combined hands, but you’re not saying anything.

“Tell me,” murmurs Simon.

Slowly, Simon lifts his free hand, lightly takes your chin between thumb and forefinger. He guides your head up, moves your gaze back to his face. Once you’re looking at him again, Simon’s thumb travels the line of your jaw.

You lean into the touch. “I…was too close.”

“Too close?” pushes Simon.

“Yes. You felt…I wanted to stay. But I was scared.”

“Of me?”

“No!” you say quickly, your free hand gripping his upper arm, squeezing. “Never. It all felt like more. That it wasn’t just sex between us. That scared me.”

“And what if I wanted it to be more? What if I still want it to be more?” Simon leans in and you do not pull back or shrink away. You also lean forward, and Simon is so close to getting what he wants.

“It’s been three years,” you murmur. “You don’t mean that.”

“Have you not thought about me? Not once? Because I’ve thought of you. Every day.”

Simon let’s go of your hand, only to wrap his arms around your waist. You surrender to him, and Simon changes position on the bench, straddling it, pulling you into his lap. Your legs effortlessly go around him, and your hands cling to the neckline of his shirt.

“Have you thought of me? Tell me the truth,” growls Simon.

You’re so close. Lips just a breath away from touching his.

“Yes,” and when it leaves your throat, Simon hears the gentle break. “Many times. So many times.”

Simon hand travels up from your waist to grab the back of your neck. Your inhale is sweet. Wanton. He can’t have you completely, not at the moment, but he’ll take whatever it is you’re willing to give in this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.

The words barely leave his mouth before you’re closing the distance. Simon answers you with a kiss of his own. There is no hesitant gap, no pause for breath, just you and him and your mouths meeting.

The kisses that follow are not mechanical or stagnant. They are generous and lovely and hungry. Your lips are soft, and Simon’s grip on the back of your neck only strengthens when your hips roll against him.

Your hand on his chest forms a fist, your fingers digging into the front of his shirt. Simon doesn’t care if you tug and pull, if you accidentally rip it. You can have whatever the fuck you want with the way you’re kissing him.

Simon groans low in his throat as his other hand makes passes over your thighs, hips, and lower back. He’s exploring your curves, relearning your body. Nothing has changed, and yet everything has.

His blood is boiling. It is screaming, telling him to take you home, to finish what he started in the green room within the basement at Riot Room. Simon will make you his. You will take every inch of him, beg him repeatedly for more until you lose your voice, and Simon will do it, will keep going until you’re a deliciously perfect puddle in his arms.

Your fist unclenches, trails downward, and stops just above his belt. You’re going to make him fucking feral if you keep touching him like this. Any lower and it’s over. There will be no asking about taking you home.

Simon will simply toss you over his shoulder and go straight there.

Sitting up a bit, you shift in his lap, and that one small movement rubs the one spot blood is rushing to.

Fuck.

He doesn’t want to break the kiss. Simon doesn’t want to pull away, but all of his control is slipping away, melting from him like ice in the sun.

When Simon breaks the kiss, you whimper, and Simon’s answer is to dig his fingers into your thighs, pressing up into you to show you exactly how he wants you.

“Come home with me,” he murmurs against your mouth.

Your lips are swollen and puffy. They’re perfect, and he nips at the bottom one before gently sucking it into his mouth.

“Right now?” you breathe.

Right now? No. The two of you can’t run off together right now. Simon has a fucking tab to pay, even if Ben could give a shit and tell Simon to pay him later. Plus, there is Amelia and Evelyn to think about.

Yes, they pushed you into Simon’s path, but you’re technically here with them. He won’t take you away. Simon is selfish when it comes to you, but he’s already waited three fucking years. What’s a few more hours until you’re back in his arms?

“Tonight.”

You’re shaking your head. Why are you shaking your head?

“I can’t,” you reply and now Simon is the one shaking his head.

“When?” he asks. “When can I see you again?”

Your gaze flicks up and Simon is lost for a moment, only thinking about how wonderful you feel in his lap. It takes him back to Riot Room when you first straddled him on that couch, kissing his lips, touching his body.

His mind wanders further, forming the image of you spread out, facing the mirror.

“Tomorrow? I can stop by in the morning.”

The morning. It’s not enough time with you. What Simon wants is for you to come over tonight. He wants to take you over every surface in his home like he planned on doing three years ago.

But he’ll take whatever you give him. If you can come by tomorrow morning, Simon will cherish it. He will be happy knowing that you want to see him at all.

And while he wishes all of this, there is a hesitant hopefulness in your gaze, like Simon will reject the offer. Are you just as nervous as he is? Are you wanting him as much as he wants you? Do you desire to be close to him in more ways than just your bodies meeting?

Because Simon wants all of you. Every bit.

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

Your smile is sweet. Wholesome. You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him, nearly knocking Simon onto his back.

“Sorry,” you laugh, beginning to pull away.

“No, you don’t. Come back here.” Simon grabs at you, pinning you against his chest, taking your mouth again, deepening the kiss until your lips part for him. His tongue traces the edge of your bottom lip, and yours darts out to meet him.

Simon is lost in you. Lost in your mouth, lips, and tongue. Lost in your touch. Lost in—

“Hate to interrupt!”

You pull back so fast you almost fall off the bench. Simon might not be in the military anymore, but his reflexes are still sharp. He catches you before you topple over.

Evelyn stands in the doorway, one hand over her eyes like she’s just walked in on something she shouldn’t be seeing.

“Amelia paid the tab. We’re leaving.”

“Shit,” you mutter, starting to unravel yourself from the bench.

Simon stands with you, his fingers slipping from yours as you head for the doorway. You glance back and smile, quickly looking between him and Evelyn before darting inside. Evelyn drops her hand and then crosses her arms over her belly, grinning wickedly.

“You’re welcome, Ghost.” She winks and disappears inside, the door shutting softly behind her.

Simon stands there in the autumn cold, his bare fingers lightly touching his lips in memory of you.

He laughs softly, drops his hand, and pulls the balaclava back into place.

Chapter Five // Chapter Seven

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[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire//biker!older!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//biker!Steve//90's au//Part 10

🚨18+Only, smut, oral (m receiving), talk of erection, size kink, swallowing, biker gang, biker!Eddie, biker!Steve, talk of drug use, threats, talk of violence, financial trouble, mention of jail, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, trouble at home, co-parents!Stobin, suggested custody issues, angst, underlying fear of retaliation. Word count: 8.7k

This is mostly just a sweet lil chapter to heal some wounds, right before some old wounds start opening.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I tried to make this part completely void of angst, but alas, I did not succeed. I'm working on a summertime one shot idea for the boys to go to a bike rally with all of the shenanigans that could possibly ensue; it should be a wild one. Big love to my beta @michellecrusher for deciding that this chapter could use a touch of smut.

As always, I'm honored to be on this ride with you and look forward to any and all interactions. Comments, messages, reblogs; it all means so much to me and is what keeps this little world going ❤️‍🔥

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I'm on Fire Part 10: I got a bad desire

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Landing with your face on the puke-stained, beer dribbled carpet of the Velvet Hammer, dusted in a sprinkle of cigarette ash, was not how you wanted to start your evening. You hadn’t even realized you hit the ground until you heard Steve’s voice demanding everyone get the fuck out of his way as he parted bodies to get to you.

And then, Erika’s voice: “I don’t know what happened...she just...fell. I promise, I didn’t touch her!”

People were murmuring around you and Steve was saying your name as you started to come back to reality, taking a deep inhale, blinking back to life. He knelt and propped you up into a sitting position, and that was when the embarrassment of what had just happened began to wash over you, making you wish that a hole in the ground would swallow you up.

“Do you think you can stand?” Steve asked while his big hands found positions under your arms in preparation to lift you up. You turned your head to look at him; his wayfarer sunglasses had fallen from the top of his head to the tip of his nose, and they were about to slip off, but his concern was more with not letting you go.

“What happened?” He asked as he pulled you to your feet, taking a second to grab the sunglasses off his face and throw them on the bar. “Did someone push you?”

“Please. Get me out of here,” you begged as one of your arms went around his shoulders, and one of his hands secured itself at your waist.

He set you down on a chair in front of the employee lockers and told you he’d get someone to cover the door for him while he took you home, or he’d see if one of the girls could stop by.

With your hands between your knees and your shoulders slumped, you began to come to terms with everything as he picked up the phone in the office.

“Wait,” you stopped him. “I can’t afford to miss a day of work, Steve, I’ll be fine. Just...just give me a second to catch my breath.”

Steve understood what a hard spot that was to be in; he lived it almost every day of his life. He put the receiver back down on the cradle.

“What did that bitch say to you?” Steve asked, putting his foot up on the bench.

You shook your head. “That’s just it, she’s not a bitch,” you chewed your lip. “She just saved me from making a huge mistake. I owe her.”

Steve was on his way back out to the floor when you called to him. “Hey, does Eddie have any female friends who are redheads, that you know of? Really pretty, tattoo on her bicep? Someone he’d feel comfortable enough with to let stay at his place?”

Steve popped his knee out and put his hands on his hips, frowning. “No one that he’s...dated, I don’t think,” he rubbed his chin in thought. “But there’s Max, she’s more like a sister to us. I just tattooed her a few weeks ago. Her hair was like a bright, candy red. Why do you ask?”

You turned away from Steve and squeezed your eyes shut, a sob caught in your throat. The sudden rush of relief at so many groundbreaking realizations had your emotions on the verge of short-circuiting. Eddie still had quite a bit of explaining to do, but the tight bud of your heart was blooming like a rose in your chest once again, full of hope.

----------

Meanwhile, Eddie was officially going stir crazy. “I need to get out of this house,” he told Robin has he hitched through the kitchen, careful not to put too much weight on the hip was right below his wound. He was wearing his jeans unbuttoned, so they hung a bit low, bangs swept across his forehead, and one of Steve’s white wife beaters that was too small for him. The thin material exposed the tattoos on his chest and stomach, as well as the ones scattered from neck to hands. He’d spent the afternoon watching cartoons with Oliver, which was enjoyable, but relaxing and sitting still for long periods of time just wasn’t in his DNA.

Also, he wasn’t sure if it was an affect of the morphine, but he’d had another one of his nightmares early that morning, before dawn, and shouted himself awake, covered in sweat. It was the same dream that had tortured him off and on for over a decade; the one where he’s being attacked by a swarm of flesh-eating bat creatures, they’re all taking big bite out of his flesh, and he wakes up to the feeling of choking on his own blood.

“Over my dead body,” Robin challenged, moving from the stove with a wooden spoon covered in macaroni and cheese in her hand.

Eddie’s eyes traveled to the spoon and then back to her face. “That can be arranged.”

“Seriously, dude,” her shoulders sank. “Don’t make me hog tie you to the couch. I promised Astrid we’d keep an eye on you for another night.”

“I have a business to run, Rob,” he said as he hobbled over to grab his leather from the back of the one of the dining chairs. “If this were a hospital, they would’ve kicked me to the curb by now.”

Robin went back to the stove to stir the powdered cheese in with the noodles. She knew that no one could stop him if he wanted to go, and she really couldn’t blame him.

With her back to him she said, “if you end up getting some type of infection and your foot falls off, I won’t ever forgive you.”

Oliver came trotting out from the other room to say goodbye, and he raised his arms for Eddie to pick him up, which he did—and Robin glanced over just in time to see the grimace of pain flash across Eddie’s face as he settled the boy on the wrong hip at first before switching him to the other side. She shook her head, certain he would pop his stitches by the end of the day.

“Steve brought your bike up the hill,” she let him know, while she packed up some medications for him to take. “Your girlfriend is at work by now, I believe.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to hers as he put Oliver down. “Why’d you call her that?”

“Isn’t she?” Robin challenged, raising her eyebrow. “I can tell you knew exactly who I was talking about.”

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that twitched across his lips.

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The Velvet Hammer was packed that night, and by the end of your shift, after very little food, no sleep, and one blackout, you were a bit wobbly on your feet. Steve had to work as security for a while longer, since there was a bachelor party in attendance that was getting a bit rowdy, but he demanded you let him walk you to your car while he had a smoke.

“So, I like Astrid,” you told him. He held out his cigarette to offer you a drag, but you declined with a wave of your hand. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Going on?” Steve put the cig to his lips with thumb and forefinger.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you made room for a group of people to pass on the sidewalk. “You know what I mean,” you insisted, knowing full well that he did. “You two seemed really close last night. I was just curious.”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ in love with her,” Steve announced with a shrug, as if it were common knowledge. “We just don’t have a conventional relationship, I guess. No one seems to understand it but us.”

You wondered, sincerely, how many women Steve had been in love with in his life. But, you could tell that there was, indeed, something special about the connection he had with Astrid. You wondered if Eddie looked at you the way Steve had looked at her last night.

Steve hung around to make sure you got in your car okay, and then you chuckled to yourself as he sauntered off, flirting with a group of women who were walking by, asking them to come by the bar and keep him company. You were about to maneuver your way out of the precarious parallel spot you were wedged in when your eyes locked on a piece of folded paper held to the windshield under one of the wipers.

At first, you thought it was ticket of some sort, like maybe you were in a no parking zone or something. But then, at closer examination, you realized it was made with blue-lined notebook paper.

It was a handwritten note.

The street was fairly busy that night with cars zooming around town, so you were cautious as you dashed out to pinch it free and pull it back into the safety of the car with you.

It was a...little paper origami duck? Or some kind of bird? You turned it around, inspecting the intricately folded parts, giggling curiously as you did so. You unfastened the delicate edges, careful not to rip it in haste. Finally, you were able to press a flat, albeit crumpled, half sheet of paper against your steering wheel, your heart shot into your throat, melting there like a fat stick of butter.

It was from Eddie:

I miss you. Come to my place so we can talk? It doesn’t matter how late.

-- E

P.S. Oliver wants to make this into a swan for you

Hopeful tears pooled at your lash line and you checked your watch; it was just after 11:30. Surely, they’d be keeping him at Steve’s for another night? But, if so, he would’ve said that and not, specifically “his place”. You tried to fold it back exactly the way it was, failed miserably, and ended up folding it in half without messing up any of the edges to place it safely in your middle console.

For a few seconds as you sat in your car with the radio on, listening to Nearly Lost You by The Screaming Trees, you wondered if you should play hard to get, if maybe rushing over to his place was not the right game to play. But really, truly, you didn’t give a shit about any of that.

You were blinking excessively and yawning, and you had this feeling like, if you rested your head back against the seat, you’d fall asleep right there in your car. But, you took a few deep breaths and patted your cheeks. You brought a can of Coke in your bag from the bar and cracked it open to guzzle some of it, thinking maybe you’d need to go home first and change? Or go straight to Eddie’s? Fall asleep in your car was still an option.

Fuck.

-----------

Earlier that day, around 5 o’clock, Eddie hissed as he dismounted his bike at the garage, clutching his side, trying to mask the spasm of pain, only to see Wayne watching him from the main garage. His uncle nodded in greeting, just wanting to make sure Eddie was okay, as he wiped his hands, and then turned around to finish what he was working on. So much of the communication they shared was silent, but understood.

He had the note in his pocket that Oliver had made into an origami animal, and he wanted to tidy up his place a bit before he did some work, just in case you did actually come over. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t blame you—it had been an especially long 24 hours. But, damn, he really needed to see you, to try and fix whatever had gone wrong, if he even could.

He still didn’t know what Charlene had done to upset you, but his mind reeled with the possibilities.

Eddie had ripped the bandage off his cheek on the way over, so there was just an angry gash there with a few stitches holding it together like a twist tie to a bunch of hammers, and he didn’t realize how much he resembled Frankenstein’s Monster until the new office assistance choked on her soda at the sight of him.

“Rough night?” She asked. Her name was Dana and she’d worked at garages before, but never for one that was affiliated with an MC.

“You could say that,” Eddie returned as he headed over to one of the metal filing cabinets to look for something.

Dana had a few “while you were out” slips of paper she had filled out with phone numbers and people who had wanted to speak with Eddie or Wayne, and she went over them with him while she chewed a red piece of gum.

She finished the last one and then, “oh, yeah, and someone called here looking for a…” she checked the piece of paper. “...Steve Harrington?”

Eddie nodded, taking something he needed out of the file before shutting the drawer. “He’s a buddy of mine. What’s the message?”

Dana scratched her head. “She didn’t say what it was about, just said that it was a personal matter,” she showed Eddie the pink piece of paper with a phone number and name on it. “Said her name was Christina? I don’t recognize the area code.”

“Could you look up Steve in the address book in that first drawer and relay the message for me? He’s in there under Dingus. I gotta run this out to the---”

Dana spelled out Dingus on the piece of paper, without questioning it, and then looked at the round clock on the wall, nervously. “Actually, I should’ve been gone a half hour ago. I need to pick up my daughter from--”

Eddie waved the papers in his hand. “Of course, I’m sorry I’ve been...distracted. Do me a favor and call him when you get in on Monday? I’m sure it can wait till then.”

The name Christina did not ring a bell at the time, but later on, he’d wish that it had.

--------

You decided to go home first to freshen up a bit, but also, you wanted to pick up the photos to show Eddie. Katie was asleep, but you made yourself some coffee and tiptoed around, wishing you had time to shower because you reeked of secondhand smoke, but then realized Eddie probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

You were nervous as you pulled into the gates of the compound; your heart was racing and your palms started to sweat. His black and chrome bike with the menacing, purple flock of bats on the tank was parked right up close to his door, and you angled your car right in next to it.

Once you turned your car off, you could hear the faint sound of music drifting down from the open window in his apartment. The song was Love You to Death by Type O Negative, and you glanced up just in time to see his shadow pull from the window, as if he’d been standing there, watching you drive up.

---------

Up in his apartment, Eddie cracked his knuckles, ignoring the fact that the skin on them was still raw and one of his fingers was probably sprained because it throbbed like a motherfucker. He wanted to make sure everything looked okay before he ran down to meet you at the front door. The TV was on mute, he’d been watching Unsolved Mysteries, but now an episode of the X-Files was starting. There were clean sheets on the bed—just in case---and he’d been on his hands and knees cleaning the bathroom for a good half hour. There was a vanilla candle burning on the nightstand, and he had lit some Nag Champa incense earlier to try and mask the fact that he’d just smoked a couple cigarettes to calm his nerves. He turned the music down a tad and wondered if Type O was too on-the-nose for such an evening, like maybe you’d think he was setting some tawdry scene, when in actuality, he listened to their music all the damn time. He had on the only pair of dark denim Levi’s he owned without holes in them, a black Faith No More shirt that had the neck and sleeves ripped off of it, and his black converse, which were a nice change from the heavy boots he always wore. He slipped his rings on and used his pinky to clean some sleep out of his eyes just before he headed down to greet you.

---------

You were just about to knock, knuckle poised in the air, when the door flew open.

“Hey,” Eddie stood there looking flushed, lips parted, dragging one hand down his stomach as his pupils dilated to take you in.

You gulped. “Hey. Is this too late? I wasn’t sure if you really meant---”

“Oh I really want you here,” Eddie stepped back, holding the door open with his body.

You were just going to walk through without making any physical contact, but then you found your body being sucked against his, as if by some gravitational pull, and you both sunk into each other. He was quick to put his arms around you, hugging you tighter, securing you to him as if your body was oxygen.

“I know we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he planted his lips on the top of your head, only removing them to speak. “I want to make it right, baby. I don’t ever want to hurt you, and I would never let anyone hurt---”

“I believe you,” you answered, moving further inside, wanting to get behind closed doors with him.

There were old, squeaky wood stairs that led up to the narrow hallway, and you held onto one of his belt loops as you followed him up, pausing so he could open the door and extend his arm for you to enter.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” you teased, taking in the open space that was bedroom, living room, and kitchen all in one. There were Iron Maiden and Slayer posters on the wall, a Harley Davidson plaque, as well as your painting, which was the first thing anyone saw when they walked in. Directly to your right was a hallway that looked like closet space and a door to a bathroom. It was a spacious, warehouse style loft with wood floors and a few round, woven rugs.

The windows...the windows were huge.

Eddie snorted at your comment, and was just about to turn around to take you into his arms again, when you bolted over to start busying yourself with lowering the curtains, starting with the window that faced the other side of the street.

“You really should keep these closed,” you told him, leaning over a table with a turntable and an 80’s style boombox. The pull did not work for the second curtain, and your frustration was mounting as you yanked at it, just as Eddie stepped over and put his hand on the cord.

“Let me do it, baby,” he met your eyes, trying to see if he could guess what had triggered such a frenzy.

While he finished dropping the blinds, you took the photos out of your bag, extending them when he turned around. You sat down at the end of the bed and watched his face as he slipped the contents out of the manila envelope to look at them.

He glanced at you a few times as he flipped through the photos, and his expression ebbed from confusion to anger and back again.

Eddie was shaking his head, hair hanging down, his strong fingers curling as if he wanted to crumple them up. “These aren’t...this is not what it looks like,” his eyes searched yours.

“I know,” you looked down, biting your top lip with your bottom teeth. “Erica told me you were set up. And Steve told me about...your other friend.”

The muscles in Eddie’s jaw tensed, teeth grinding, as his eyes narrowed on the window where most of the photos had been taken from. “Some fucker has been watching me this whole time?” The irrational part of Eddie wondered if the guy was over there, somewhere in the abandoned building, right at that moment. Maybe he should go over and introduce himself, possibly break the guys face with his own camera. Break his hands and throw him out the third story window while he was at it.

The photos were starting to make Eddie feel sick with rage, so he put them back in the envelope. Your bloodshot eyes fluttered and he could see how tired you were.

“Who would do this?” You asked, earnestly. “More importantly, why would they do it? I haven’t been here long enough to make enemies. Not of this caliber, anyway.”

Eddie put the envelope on top of the kitchen counter and sat down next to you on the bed with a heavy sigh. He had his hands resting on his knees, but then he took a chance and slid one arm over to interlace his fingers with yours, and you let him. He squeezed your hand. “It’s a long story, but a while back I made a mistake and got involved with this woman who--”

“Charlene Gregson?” She’d always been at the top of your list for someone who would have the motive for something so unnecessarily heinous.

“That’s the one,” he brought your hand over across his leg. “That’s where I went last night, to try and stop her, I suppose. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

That made a laugh bubble out of your chest for some reason. “What was your plan? Crash through her gates on your motorcycle on a cloud of smoke and seek vengeance?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, it always works out in the movies.”

You giggled and pulled away, but then he tugged you back, and you were still smiling as he scooped his hand around your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss, little hiccups of laughter erupting between kisses tongues slipping in ever so gently; Mulder and Scully having a conversation on the TV in the background. You held onto his wrist, sinking deeper into the yearning that you always felt for him, pulling back only to rub the tips of your noses together, lips grazing.

“Stay here with me tonight?” Eddie whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want to hold you.”

You were sure, you were almost positive, that you had just fallen asleep for a second while he was talking, and you blinked hard just as he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“But I stink, I smell like the Velvet Hammer. I didn’t have a chance to shower,” you mewed, feeling your body slump further into hibernation mode as the adrenaline from the past two days wore off.

“You don’t stink,” Eddie assured you. “You can sleep in one of my shirts, and you can use my toothbrush, if you don’t mind my germs.” He had your hand in his and was holding it to his chest as he watched your face.

“I figured you’d have plenty of extra toothbrushes here for all of the copious amounts of women who sleep over,” your exhaustion was making you feisty.

Eddie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I do have a few extras for emergencies. But I’ve never offered up my own personal toothbrush before.”

“Goodbye,” you chirped, standing up, ready to leave.

But Eddie chuckled and caught you around the waist, throwing you down on the bed next to him with a bounce and a grunt.

You were doing a poor job of stiffing your own laughter as you tried to keep a serious face, but then he moved to crawl on top of you and you watched his face seize in pain. He stiffened and put his hand over the area where his knife wound was, easing himself onto his back. While Eddie silently prayed that he hadn’t ripped his stitches, you went around the side of the bed to click the lamp off. You turned the TV off too; the music was on low, but that you didn’t mind.

“We are quite a pair tonight,” Eddie mumbled from the bed, slightly incapacitated, as he watched you moved around his apartment.

You loved the idea of sleeping in one of his shirts and hygiene and all that jazz, but in that moment—you weren’t sure you could last another second. Your lids were heavy and your conversation skills were at an all time low. With rubbery limbs, you climbed on the dark blue comforter of his bed and curled against him, making sure it was the side he hadn’t been stabbed on. Flat on his back, Eddie’s eyes never left you, and he was ready with his arm high and outstretched for your head to make a pillow out of his shoulder.

“I can’t keep my eyes open for another second,” you yawned. You grabbed his chest to pull yourself closer, like he was a pillow, and he kissed your forehead.

You kissed the gash on his cheek, nuzzling the hair just above his ear, planting more kisses as you went. Eddie felt his cock spring to life in his jeans and he was too exhausted to do anything about it. You cupped your hand on the side of his neck, kissed the corner of his mouth, and then finally let your cheek fall to his shoulder with a flop.

Eddie took hold of your leg at the crook of your knee to pull it across his hips, needing to feel your weight, not wanting to let you get away. He closed his eyes, drowning in the feel of your soft puffs of breath on his neck, your chest moving up and down on his arm. He planted his lips to your head again, giving a few audible smooches before he rested his torn cheek lightly against you.

He wrapped his arm around tighter, bringing you closer. “You know, Robin called you my girlfriend today,” he admitted, a low laugh rumbling from his chest.

The only response you could manage was, “mmmpfm?”

The stubble of his jaw grazed your forehead as he contemplated what he was about to say. He’d just been stabbed, and it made him consider his mortality, and the time he had left.

“I was thinking,” he breathed. “If you like the sound of that, maybe we could, make it official? That is, if you could ever see yourself having a dirtbag like me as a boyfriend.”

Your body had gone limp and, in the following seconds while he waited for a response, he heard a soft whistle in your nose and a snore catch in the back of your throat. A few drops of drool started pooling from the side of your mouth and made a wet spot on his shirt.

Eddie chuckled, peeking down at you, but trying not to move too much, not realizing he was about to drift off to sleep as well.

-----------

You weren’t sure what time it was when your head rolled off of Eddie’s shoulder, jerking you awake, but it was dark outside, and you were still in the same position you were when you passed out: hand loosely cupping his neck, and your leg stretched across his hips. His head had rolled to the side, away from you, full lips parted, and the blue glow from the stereo cast a moody light on his skin, making his cheek wound look like something out of science fiction.

Still half asleep, you kissed the exposed muscles of his throat, right at the spot where the dark lines from his back tattoo came up across his neck, and your hand slid down his chest; you didn’t have a plan, you just wanted to feel him. His breathing was steady and shallow, eyeballs dancing under his lids. Your hand met with the top of his jeans, and then your eyes widened at the bulge that was causing a huge gap from skin to denim.

You slid your leg off of him, letting your hand move down a bit further, and your hand had to widen over his clothing to pass over the expanse of his arousal there.

Without even realizing it, you had started thrusting your hips against him, working your core against his hip, and then you lifted up to kiss his chin, aching to find his mouth with yours. You’d gone over to his place with every intention of being intimate with him, and nature had intervened with other plans, but you still wanted him to know how bad you wanted him, how much you craved him every second of the day.

Eddie groaned awake to return your kiss, and one of his hands grabbed your face. “Who is this greedy girl?” He mumbled against your mouth, his eyes droopy.

You straddled him, keeping your knees low, at his thighs, careful not to hit his wound. You started to move your core up and down along the bulge under his jeans, and then you leaned forward to brush your lips against his as you spoke. “You’re so hard, let me take care of it.”

Eddie whimpered a little in the back of his throat. “You can take whatever you want, baby,” and then a visible shiver ran through his body at the mere thought of your mouth on his cock.

You inched your way down, sucking hickeys into the dark tattoos spread across his stomach and chest, avoiding the medical tape from his bandage. Eddie moaned and threw his head back as you licked along the inside of his hip, unzipping his jeans to pull them down.

No boxers underneath, his huge cock sprang free, and the sight of the pre-cum already dripping from the pink tip made your mouth water. Eddie bit his lip while he watched you from under hooded eyes as you took control, pulled his jeans down further, and straddled his leg.

You bent over, and kept eye contact with him as you licked all the way down the shaft, and then wet the tip with your mouth, flicking your tongue along the slit, cleaning up his primal release.

Eddie pupils were blown, his lips parted as he watched.

“Whose cock is this?” You asked, teasing the tip with your wet mouth, planting hungry kisses down his shaft.

Eddie choked a little in the back of his throat. “It’s—it’s yours baby.”

He was already rock hard—throbbing, even---and your core flowered open beneath your clothes, soaking your underwear to the point that you actually had to reach down and touch yourself as you sucked him. Eddie noticed this and it made him mumble, “fuckbabyfuck,” as his leg squirmed, digging his heel into the bed.

You worked the tip of his cock with your hand while you sucked one of his balls into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but smile a little at how crazy it was making him.

Somehow, between sleeping on someone else’s couch and working, Eddie had neglected to jerk off recently, and so he was about to….

“Fuck, baby, right there,” he hissed, bucking his hips. “You’re gonna make me…”

You went back to work, gripping him with hand and mouth in tandem, lips stretching to take all of him, eyes watering, swallowing his tip in the back of your throat every so often, as he watched you with a furrowed brow, cursing under his breath.

Suddenly, his breath started to hitch, and the fingers of one of his hands dug into the comforter. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby...if you want it...like that…”

He was warning you as if you’d pull your mouth off and jerk him the rest of the way, but you wanted all of it in your mouth. You moaned as you sucked at the tip, pulling the orgasm out of him, saliva dripping down his balls.

Eddie let out a whimper and his leg jerked just before he stilled, and you tasted the salty sweetness of his warm cum shoot into the back of your throat in bursts. You drank his spend like his dick was a straw, throat busy swallowing every drop, moaning as you did so. You milked the tip for all he could give you, and then you cleaned him up with your greedy tongue, planting kisses on his cock when he was done with his release.

Eddie stared at the ceiling, slightly shook. “How are you so good at that?”

You sighed a quick laugh, licking your lips, as you made your way to the bathroom to finally brush your teeth. When you came back out, he was already asleep.

------------

As your eyes opened and adjusted to a sliver of buttery light peeking in from the curtain, your mind put you in several places. First, you were in your childhood bedroom, feeling like you needed to get up and ready for school, and then you were in the more recent bed in the house you shared with Katie. But, then the Iron Maiden poster came into focus and you were slammed with the realization that you had passed out in Eddie’s bed and it was already morning. Your intention had been to take a nap for an hour or two, but now you were alert to the idea that Eddie might still be somewhere in the room.

You remembered falling asleep on Eddie’s shoulder, waking up hungry for his cock, but now you were facing in the other direction, there was a blanket over you, and someone had taken your shoes off. It was Sunday, so the garage was closed, but you could still hear voices down below and the sound of a car engine revving. You reached your hand behind you to pat the bed, but only found an empty space; either Eddie was in the bathroom or he had already gone downstairs to start his day. God, what time was it?

You rolled over to crawl across the bed to look at the digital alarm clock, inhaling the smell from Eddie’s pillow as you went, and choked a little when you saw it was almost 9:30.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, throwing the cover off of your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept in for that long. A fear that you’d be late for work gripped you, but then you were reminded that you were no longer the director of a gallery, and your new job didn’t start until cocktail hour.

You found your shoes tucked neatly against the sofa, and on the kitchen counter in front of the coffee pot was a note propped up like a little tent with your name on it.

I had to run a tow.

I hope you’re here when I get back.

Thank you for taking it like a good girl last night.

-- E

Eddie and his little notes. You grinned as you folded it up and put it in your pocket, because of course you’d be saving any note he ever left you till the end of time.

It was then that a heavy fist started pounding on the door down below. “Helloooo? Anyone? What the hell do I gotta do to get some service around here?”

----------

Even though the mechanics were all off that day, the towing business was a 24 hour thing. There was another Coffin King named Lou who was usually able to cover some nights and weekends, but when Eddie found himself stuck with a pickup at the worst possible time, he tried to focus on the money and be grateful for it.

He’d considered waking you up to see if you wanted to go with him, but you were sleeping so peacefully, he didn’t have the heart to disturb you. He woke up with his cock so achingly hard thinking about what you did to him in the middle of the night, that he had to jerk off as quietly as possible in the shower that morning. He was sure you’d heard the grunt he barked when he came, thinking about filling you up, listening to you tell him how deep you wanted all of him inside of you.

The last time he went this long without having intercourse with a girl that he had feelings for was maybe his freshman year in high school. The crazy thing was, he was enjoying the feeling of waiting and making it special; even though the holding out part was totally accidental, and he would’ve jumped at the chance to bury himself inside you that very first night you met.

But the way you took care of him last night, holy shit: he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t tell if he had really found the Holy Grail of women, or if his feelings for you had made it as intense as it was; possibly a bit of both. He was seized with memories of your mouth on him off and on while he was on the job, and he’d have to slyly adjust himself in his jeans. He couldn’t wait to get back to you.

He started to whistle as he rounded the corner to re-enter the compound, hoping that your car was still there, hoping that he could….

But he spotted a different car in the lot right next to yours that hadn’t been there before, and you were coming out from out of the garage with your hand shielding your eyes, looking deeply concerned.

------------

You considered just letting whoever it was keep on knocking, but at one point, the person yelled: “Eddie! I know you’re here! Don’t make me take your bike for a spin around the block!”

And so, you put your shoes on and went down, wholly unprepared for what you would find.

There were two smiling faces practically pressed up against the glass of the main door as you descended the stairs. One was a guy with a mop of brown curls, and the woman with him had beautiful olive skin, black hair, and wore glasses. They both waved enthusiastically, happy to finally be acknowledged.

------------

“What the hell, Henderson?” Eddie parked the tow truck and jumped down, wallet chain flapping against his jeans. Eddie waved to you across the way, as his mouth opened into a toothy grin, exposing actual cheek dimples, that you’d maybe only seen him wear once or twice.

“If it isn’t the Dungeon Master!” Dustin came toward him with his arms out. “What the hell is up with you and Steve? You’re the two hardest losers to find!”

They hugged, and then Eddie tousled Dustin’s hair, mussing it up. “You haven’t changed a bit, you little goblin.”

Next to you, under the shade of the awning was a very pregnant Suzie, who you’d also just met. She was in a purple floral dress with a white collar, and you’d pulled a chair around for her to have a seat.

“I love to see my Dusty Buns happy again,” she said, passing her hand over the globe of her belly as you both watched the two men embrace. “We should’ve moved back sooner, but life just got away from us.”

“How do you all know each other?” You were just barely able to introduce yourself before Eddie pulled up, and so you had no idea how close the gang was.

“I’m surprised the boys never mentioned Dustin to you? They went to high school together; they’re all really close. Steve is basically Dustin’s surrogate father,” she giggled, lifting her sweet moon-shaped face to you in a soft smile.

You did feel a little self-conscious about not knowing, but there was a good reason for it. “Well, I’m...Eddie and I are…kind of a new thing.” But then you remembered that you did know a little bit about one of their old friends. “They’ve mentioned Max to me. I guess she visited a couple days ago? I didn’t get to meet her though.”

“Maxine is a riot!” Suzie exclaimed. “You’ll get you meet her and Lucas when the baby is born. They said they wanted to be here for the actual birth, but who can really tell when that will be? I’m due in a week, but I was born two weeks early, and my sister’s newest baby was born almost a month late,” her eyes got glossy. “Boy, I really can’t imagine holding this baby in for another hour, let alone another month.”

Eddie had his arm around Dustin’s shoulders as they approached, and he gave him a playful knuckle rub to the head before they parted.

Eddie greeted Suzie, and she went to stand up to hug him, but Eddie quickly bent over and kissed her on the cheek so that she wouldn’t have to move. He swallowed as he took in the enormous state of her pregnant belly. “Shouldn’t you be...resting? Is it too hot out here? Should we go inside? Are you comfortable in that chair?”

Suzie laughed. “My god, Eddie, you’re as bad as Dustin. I’m fine, I promise. I’m trying to shake this baby loose; this little person has rented out my womb for long enough.”

Eddie met your eyes and kissed you on the lips before he put his arm around you and pulled you against him.

It was the wrong side, again, and he winced.

Dustin noticed the look of pain. “What the hell happened to you?”

“He got stabbed,” you volunteered with a sheepish look on your face, tilting your head to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh, of course he did,” Dustin said, his mouth wide. “What else would Eddie or Steve be doing on the weekends besides mortal combat?”

Suzie looked concerned, but Eddie assured the group that he was fine. He looked you in the face as he said: “So, did you two get to meet my girl?”

Your cheeks got warm, and you ran your hand up and down his back.

“Only briefly, before you rudely interrupted,” Dustin let him know, moving behind Suzie’s chair to put his hands on her shoulders. Dustin had been worried for a while there that Eddie would never move on from his ex, and that he would always be in a dark head space in regards to romance, and so seeing him with you made his heart feel light.

“You see Steve yet?” Eddie asked. “He’ll be pissed you didn’t come to see him first.”

“Um, not like we didn’t tryyyy,” Dustin raised both eyebrows. “No one was at the house and the tattoo shop wasn’t open yet. I talked to him on the phone a few weeks ago, but we weren’t sure when we’d be in town.”

Eddie thought about that for a second. It was very odd for neither one of them to be home, especially on a Sunday morning. But, there was a chance Robin took Oliver to a shift at work with her and Steve had spent the night at Astrid’s, depending on how early Dustin had popped by.

“I’ll find him,” Eddie assured them both. “Are you staying at your moms house.”

“Hell no,” Dustin responded almost too quickly. “I mean, I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but she’s been driving us up the wall lately. We’re renting a house a few blocks away from her until everything is finalized at our new place.”

They all made a plan to meet up as soon as they could figure out where Steve and Robin were, and once they were gone, Eddie turned to you, cupping your neck to pull you against him.

“Is it okay that I introduced you as my girl?” He stroked his thumb across your chin as he asked it, chocolate eyes unsure if they should meet your gaze or watch your mouth.

You lifted up to brush your lips across his, tongue peeking out only slightly, making him groan a little. You searched his eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Is that what I am?”

Eddie put his hands on your lower back and brought his head back, wanting to see your whole face. “You tell me. I wanna hear it. Are you my girl?”

You were nodding yes before he even finished. “I’ve been your girl for a long time now, silly boy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie breathed in a chuckle, his cock growing as he met your sweet, eager mouth. He paused only to admit, “I’ve wanted you to be mine since that first day we met.”

----------

Of all the places Steve had hoped to wake up on Sunday morning, a jail cell was not one of them.

He made bail, and Robin was there to pick him up, giving him a dirty look as she did so. He had his sunglasses on, his Coffin Kings cut in his hand, and a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he got into the passenger seat and shut the door. The “seek and destroy” tat on the side of his neck displayed loud and proud.

“Nice shiner,” Robin said under her breath.

“Yeah, well, you should see the other guy,” Steve said, cupping his hands to light his smoke. His black eye was the only visible mark on him, but the dude he had a tussle with had gone to town on Steve’s ribs, and there would definitely be bruises there.

She made a face as she backed out of the parking spot. “You smell like vomit.”

He ignored her observation. “Where’s Ollie?”

“I dropped him at Astrid’s,” she said as she pulled her own sunglasses down from the top of her head to cover her eyes. “I didn’t want him to see this.”

“Why are you acting like this was all my fault?” Steve blanched, flicking ash out the window as they turned out of the courthouse, Somebody to Shove by Soul Asylum playing on the radio. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know, Steve, that’s the point,” she barked. Her frustration with him was also mixed with a generous amount of worry. “When are you going to grow up and start walking away from danger instead of headlong into it every chance you get?”

“Oh I get it,” Steve said sarcastically. “So, you don’t care that Tina is back in town, and this had everything to do with her?”

Robin hit the breaks and turned to him so fast, a chunk of her hair stuck to her bottom lip. “What do you mean Tina is back in town?”

“Now you care?” He tapped his knee as he took another drag.

Robin felt like she forgot how to breathe, so she pulled over to park haphazardly along the sidewalk at an angle.

She turned the car off but left the air on. “You know how I feel about Tina, but please tell me you didn’t hit her.”

“Oh, fucking of course not,” Steve balked, snapping his head to look at her. He gestured to his black eye with the two fingers holding his cigarette, “this was courtesy of her new fiance. I think they were both on crack. They were waiting for me when I left work last night. Now, all of a sudden, out of the goddamn blue, Tina wants to see Oliver.”

Robin was shaking her head, gripping the steering wheel. “No, no, absolutely not,” she said, definitively. “She disappeared when he was 3 months old. No. There’s no way. She’s a drug addict, she’s a narcissist, no. Not a chance in hell.”

“I know, Rob, believe me. It’s not going to happen, okay?” Steve assured her with a wave of his hand. “At least not until she cleans her life up.”

Christina, Oliver’s biological mother, didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body, and never wanted anything to do with her son, but the fear had always been in the back of his head that one day she’d pop up like a mean, STD rash.

Robin felt her eyes getting moist and she wiped at her cheeks angrily. “Where are her and her fleabag fiance now?”

“Oh I put that scumbag in the hospital so hard,” Steve threw the rest of his cigarette out the window and licked his lips. “He’s lucky I didn’t put him in a grave. I’m sure Tina’s already changed her mind, you know how fickle and selfish she is. They were most likely on a bender and thought they’d come through town and fuck with us. They’re probably on their way back to Memphis by now. I don’t want you to worry about it, okay?”

Robin swallowed a few times, trying to allow him to comfort her. She never expected or intended to fall into this roll and be a mother to Steve’s son. But, it happened. Oliver was their son now, and she loved him as much as if he had grown in her womb. And, she would fight to keep him safe with the same level of conviction.

Steve sniffed and adjusted himself in his seat. “Thank you for bailing me out, by the way.”

Robin snorted as she started the car. “Dingus, I could barely afford the gas to drive over here, and you think I had the cash to bail you out? Get real.”

Steve frowned. “Who was it, then? They said I made bail. Otherwise, I’d still be rotting in there.”

“I assumed it was Astrid? Or Eddie?”

Steve shook his head. “Eddie doesn’t know, and Astrid is in the same financial hole we are.”

Robin put the car in drive but kept the break on. “Well, who was it then?” She posed the question as both of them searched their collective data bank memories for a close friend nearby who had more than two pennies to rub together, or something valuable to use as collateral.

Hours later, they still couldn’t think of anyone.

----------

You left Eddie reluctantly so that he could go look for Steve, and you could take a long awaited shower and throw your nicotine-saturated clothes in the wash. The business card with John Gregson’s email, phone number, and private extension was on your dresser, and you stopped to pick it up as you walked across the room. You meant to bring up the situation to Eddie, but the timing was never right. Was John trying to mess with you in the same way his wife wanted to mess with Eddie? You didn’t get a bad feeling from him, but now, after everything with the photos and Charlene paying people off, you weren’t sure.

A voice inside whispered that John could be an ally if you impressed him, and he had the notion to take you under his wing. John was the one with all the power at the end of the day, and if Charlene could play with fire, well then, so could you.

You decided to give him a call first thing Monday, and hopefully make a consultation appointment with him to get a taste for what type of art piece would suit his tastes and needs. You wondered if it was for his office or home? If it was a piece for his personal space at home, would you bump into Charlene while you were there, commiserating with her husband? The idea of getting under Charlene’s skin and making her sweat a little scratched an itch in you that you had not been able to reach for a while.

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Part 11

Eddie after reader is done with him image courtesy of @tenthmoon

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It's so damn cool that some of you have made it this far and continue to want to know what goes on with reader and our boys! It warms my heart in a way I'm having trouble expressing in words xoxo

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Taglist for my other Hell's Belles and Coffin Kings ❤️‍🔥 @texasblues @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @lilpotatobean2 @dandelionnfluff @munsons-mayhem28 @eddiemunson95 @tlclick73 @clincallyonline17 @kelsiegrin @stylesxmunson @nope-thanks @lofaewrites @layla-loves-ed @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @whatwedontdointheshadows @falling-solar-system @miarosso @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @emxcast @secretdryrose @bexreadstoomuch @ms1oftheboys @dream-a-little-nightmare @hellv1ra @manicmagicmayhem @etherealglimmer @unfocused81 @notsobubblybaby @trufflshuffle12 @aysheashea @leilalaufeyson02 @ireidsmut @trixyvixx @tenthmoon

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Jeff Hardy x Leona French™️

Warnings: Randy being a dickhead, use of the insult “freak”

Word count: 5k

A/N: this will be the first installment of my nostalgia WWE fics, for me that would be early 2000s Ruthless Aggression Era. I’ve always been a fan of Jeff Hardy, and growing up I never knew how bad his “demons” were until recently. Don’t worry though these fics will have none of that, I think the man has experienced enough angst in real life I don’t plan on including any of it here. This fic references Beyoncé’s Freakum Dress, any and all lyrics used belongs to said artist. Leona French is my black!oc, her character bio is linked to my pinned post. Hope you all enjoy this silly goofy one shot, leave a like and reblog, follow me ✨

Monday Night Raw 2004

It wasn’t until we were walking through the arena doors that I had second thoughts about tonight. It’s not uncommon for my cousin to talk me into things. Probably why our parents didn’t want us hanging out a lot. “Lita, are you sure about this? I mean I’m not a wrestler, what if they throw food at me?” I turned to her, we walked side by side with our arms linked, but it was more so me holding onto her so I wouldn’t tremble out of my skin. 

“Yes, trust me. All the WWE wants right now, are hot girls that can dance and put on a little show in between segments. And if someone throws something at you, it better be flowers or I’m gonna whoop their ass.” She reassured me for what felt like the fifth time in a row, the hallways were lined with WWE talent, some of them waving to Lita as we went. A few of the women’s eyes lingered on me, scrutiny settled deep in their gazes. I’m used to the heat of female competition, but this was something else. 

My first Monday Night Raw as an “employee,” I usually only showed up as a fan in the crowd when Lita could get me tickets. I’m supposed to be practicing for my audition with the ballet company, yet here I am half naked about to show my ass for the world. I can only pray my parents aren’t watching. Soon we come to a stop near the end of a deserted hall, two guys who I recognize as Lita’s boyfriend Matt, and his older brother Jeff. 

They were dressed similarly as usual, though Jeff’s clothes were more cut up than his younger brothers. His fishnet top was cut so the bottom of the shirt stopped just below his belly button, leaving his lower stomach, and v-line exposed. His arm sleeves coordinated with their all black theme, and were cut up as well. I always admired their edgy style, especially Lita. I knew she got a lot of heat for dressing the way she dressed, in combination with being a hardcore female wrestler. 

“Matt, Jeff, you’ve met my cousin Leona before haven’t you?” Lita reintroduced me to her friends, for a moment I felt stupid, because why would they care to remember who I was just because Lita and I were related. I chewed my bottom lip nervously, catching Jeff’s attention. 

He laughed sheepishly, “might have been concussed that night if I’m being honest.” He smiled playfully, he was a lot sweeter than what one might think, despite all his tattoos, and multi colored hair, from what I’ve observed. He’s diffident, and mostly to himself, not the misfit you’d think he was. The pictures in the magazines didn’t do him justice either, his eyes were greener in person, and has a much taller build. 

“Me too.” I joked, Lita, and I all chuckled, though Jeff and Matt seemed confused by this. Now it was my turn to feel embarrassed.

I stumbled over my words at first. “I used to be a cheerleader all through high school, you’re not the only high flier around her bucko.” My lips curled into a tiny grin, Lita bumped my shoulder scoffing. Matt hummed in response, he folded his arms across his chest, and a tiny smile on his lips as he listened. 

“Captain of the cheer squad, four time national champion.” Lita gloated, she looked at me proudly, hands in her hips, and chest puffed out. 

“That right? So I guess that means I’ll be seeing you hit a Swanton Bomb tonight?” Matt suggested half heartedly, a humorous expression etched across his face. 

“Four time national champion, we’ll be expecting you to jump off the titantron.” Jeff said quietly, one hand over his chin, his index finger pressed to his bottom lip, he grinned watching the look of horror on my face. I could never be half the daredevil he was, and there’s nothing in the world that would make me want to try. 

He held my gaze, and I’ll admit I felt a little shy around him, it’s not like his poster isn’t on my dorm wall or anything. I for damn sure never expected to be talking to him this long. “Hell no, I’ll leave that to the stuntmen, besides this was just a one off.” I shrugged, I tried my best to be humble despite my talent. I loved being a performer, but I didn’t like the attention, such is the life of an artist. 

“That right, Leo here actually has a brain unlike the two of you. She’s only here because she owes me a favor, and what’s a spring break without a little fun?” Lita smiled mischievously, Matt rolled his eyes at his girlfriend.

“Um I think you forgot to count yourself sweetheart, you’re pretty and…well that’s about it.” He chuckled, the two of them seemingly forgetting all about us, Lita’s hand shot out to swat Matt across the chest, but he dogged her, then ran off. Without a second thought Lita pursued him.

“Are they always like that?” I pivoted back to Jeff, who was shaking his head watching his brother act childishly. 

Slowly his eyes lifted to meet mine, his head tilted to the side, “is the sky blue?” That sweet southern twang hitting a little heavier towards the end, and I swore I could drop to my knees right then. A giggle pressed past my lips, and his next words took me by surprise as he suddenly complimented me.

“Aw man, that laugh is so adorable.” Jeff’s eyes slid over my face taking in all my features, there’s not a magazine article in the world that could have prepared me for Jeff Hardyz charisma. The way he looked directly in my eyes, into my soul, as if he looked away he’d miss something spectacular. My shoulder leaned against the cool white brick wall as I stood next to him, he was slouching a little, but our height difference was still evident. 

The corners of my lips tugged into a grin, “are you flirting with me?” I asked, perhaps a bit coy, this sudden confidence went against everything I previously knew myself to be. I typically avoided the male species at all cost, but he had such a warm, welcoming presence. His undivided attention made me feel like I could tell him anything, and that freaked me out a little. 

“You won’t be here long, mine as well make it count this time.” He shrugged, he stood with his hands in his pockets, more talent would pass us. He barely looked their way. 

“So you do remember me!” I shouted, I pushed myself off the wall unaware of just how close we were, and lightly slapped him on the chest. 

His head fell backwards, “of course, even if I landed on my skull that night I wouldn’t have forgotten this face.” He chortled causing his whole face to light up, the butterflies in the pit of my stomach swarmed violently. After I took too long responding he spoke up again. “So why exactly are you dressed like you’re going out to a nightclub?”

“Do I not look good in this dress though?” I asked, letting out an airy laugh, and pulling my fur coat open to playfully show off my outfit. Jeff shamelessly checked me out, getting an eyeful of my cleavage, all the way down my curves to my legs, and my chunky heels. 

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, a hungry stare in his eyes, “I’m sure you look good in anything.” 

He was saying all the right things, and looking at me in a way that was making my face heat up,  my lips parted to speak, but I was cut off by Lita’s long arm hooking around the back of my neck. “They’re ready for you at guerilla, if you and Jeff are done eye fucking, I’ll walk you down.” My heart jumped at her accusation, the feeling of embarrassment settling onto my face. 

“Oh that right, Lita is actually a rodeo clown between segments.” Jeff rolled his eyes, an unimpressed expression on his face, yet again taking the heat off me. 

“Shut up Jeff.” she sneered at him, and took me by the hand dragging me away. I could still feel his eyes on me, peeking at him over my shoulder, and just as I thought he’s watching me be taken away. A tiny smile on his lips, he nods his head at me as a ‘see ya later,’ and I hoped it was a later. 

Waiting at the curtain were my backup dancers, and Stephanie McMahon. I’ve met her a number of times, she’s always sweet, and comforting. Nothing like her tv persona. “Alright, it’s a packed house, and after that match with Rocky, and Austin they’re quite rowdy.” She explained, I tried to swallow my nerves, as someone who was typically a part of the crowds I knew first hand how nasty people could get. 

“You’ve rehearsed a bunch of times, you’ve got this in the bag Leo, and then before you know it, it’ll all be over. Then you can go back to your prissy little dorm room.” Lita teased me, she pinched my cheek, but I cringed away from her. 

“First of all, that prissy dorm houses your lousy ass more times than I can count. Secondly, don't ruin my makeup, okay?” I hated being talked to like I was a child, Lita and I were only two years apart. I know she’ll always see me as a baby because of the kind of life she lives constantly on the road. 

“Yes! That is exactly the attitude you need tonight, now don’t waste it, save it for the audience.” Stephanie gripped my shoulder, and smiled at me encouragingly. 

I turned to my other dancers, “y’all ready?” They seemed more excited than I was, so I tried to mirror their enthusiasm. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have something special for you.” Lilian Garcia addressed the crowd, they were buzzing, and when I turned to Lita, she gave me a thumbs up. 

“A one night only attraction of. Leona French, performing her rendition of Freakum Dress!” The lights dimmed down, and as soon as the music started I was handed a mic right before I stepped out. “To be, or not to be.” I sang sultrily as I sauntered out, at first the crowd didn’t know what to make of seeing me. I could visibly see some men were quite annoyed, instead of focusing on the crowd I looked right into the camera in front of me. When we got closer to the ring I shed my fur coat, and suddenly the noise began to pick up. I couldn’t help the grin that slid onto my face, I twirled my hips, and popped my ass to the bass of the music. I’ve practiced the routine so many times I could do it in my sleep. “Oh put your freakum dress on, every woman got one.” My body moved fluidly through the steps, I let myself get lost in the music, and soon I felt like I was actually having fun. 

Improvising a little, I climbed out of the ring, and danced over to the barricade where a young man around my age was gawking. I made my way back to the steel steps putting one foot up, and pooped my booty back. Considering they weren’t throwing food at me, I took that as a compliment, but by the end of the performance everyone was on their feet cheering, and wolf whistling. We bowed, blew a few kisses, but then made our way to the back. 

Lita wasn’t there when I came back through the curtain, but I think she told me she might have had some segments tonight. I would probably run into her later, “that crowd was jumpin!” Maddison, one of the dancers laughed, she chugged some water. 

“It sure was, you girls were great! Leona your energy was incomparable, and just so natural. Good job tonight.” Stephanie placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, her kind words making me proud of myself. 

“Thanks boss lady, we’re gonna go shower and change.” I thanked her, shaking her hand, and we all made our way through the arena. I was so busy blabbing to the girls that I didn’t even notice Undertaker when I ran into him. My eyes widened, I’ve only ever seen him from a distance, which he was big then, but up close he’s huge. The girls and I collectively quieted down upon seeing him, “I’m so sorry…Mr. Taker.” I said like a doofus, his eyes shined humorously, but that’s all he offered us. 

“Just Taker is fine, you’re Lita's cousin aren’t you? That was a hell of a performance y’all had.” And this is where I realized I might have a thing for gothic southern men. Or maybe I was just a sucker for the accent. I recall a number of stories about Taker being the best person to ask advice, literally everyone would ask him his opinion. 

“Wow, thanks, I’m a huge fan by the way, um any pointers?” Why not ask the most successful man in the entertainment business his thoughts on my performance. The girls looked at me like I had three heads, it’s what I expected none of them watched wrestling. 

“We’re gonna go shower, we’ll catch up later.” Lisa patted me on the shoulder, I nodded, and let them excuse themselves. If anyone was ‘prissy’ as Lita put it, it’s definitely them. Never struggled a day in their lives, spoon fed country club for their entire lives. Only sports they knew were golf, and all American football. That was an excitable level of violence for them, however, I usually craved something a little more aggressive. 

He pondered for a moment, “well…it looked like you were having fun, and that’s when you really started to connect with the crowd. That’s important, it’s not just you, and them. You’re in on it together.” He explained, his voice deep, but his tone ominous. A backstage official informed him that he was needed, Taker nodded his head, and turned back to me. “A lot of people are gonna try and groom you, make you out to be what they want. Especially because you’re a girl, and seemingly have a lot of talent that could make people a lot of money. Nothing is more important in show business than to do things by your own volition, and stand on it.” That may have been the wisest bit of information I’ve ever received, he held his hand out for me to shake. Without hesitation I took it, grateful for this moment, and to think I was gonna pass up the offer. He shook my hand surprisingly gently, then went on about his business. I watched him for as long as my eyes could see. I felt light, like I was no longer a part of this physical plane. I looked down at my hand in disbelief of what just happened, my whole body still buzzing. 

I just performed for thousands of people, and then The Undertaker just dropped a wealth of knowledge on me. I’m just a girl, I’m just some kid, how did I get so lucky? “Are you gonna keep standing in the middle of the hall like an idiot?” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of an arrogant voice, slowly I turned to be met with the last person I wanted to run into tonight. Randy Orton, Bautista by his side, the only one of the two who had some etiquette. 

Bautista lips form a tiny smile, he had a familiarity to him, as if we’ve been knowing each other for a while. “Hey, I remember you, you’re Lita’s big brain cousin, what college was it you went to?” I could feel my face heat up, it was sweet of him to remember something so small. 

“I don’t know about big brains, but I’m attending Tisch School of Arts in New York.” I said shyly, I tried not to make my accomplishments a big deal; I guess it couldn’t be helped when Lita is blabbing about me to everyone she sees. 

“So an art school.” Randy didn’t sound too impressed, far be it for him to care about anything other than himself. I might have actually found him attractive if he wasn’t such a dickhead. 

“Hang on there Randy, Tisch is no run of the mill dance school, their acceptance rate is pretty low from what I understand. I had some family that tried to get in a few years ago, they had to audition 3 times.” Bautista explained coming to my defense, while simultaneously shutting down his partner's rudeness. He did it in such a calm manner, I bet he’s great with kids. 

Randy eyed me, when he lingered too long on my chest I rolled my eyes, and side stepped him. He’s exactly like the pricks that frequented the country clubs back home, the only way to deal with them was to ignore them. “Anywho, it was nice meeting you, I’m a big fan, Bautista.” He held his hand to his heart, touched by me saying this. 

“You’re a wrestling fan?” Randy questioned, he looked gobsmacked by this revelation, I grimaced turning to him. 

“Yeah…” I said lifting my eyebrow daring him to challenge me, but he scoffed. Folding his arms over his chest, a smug expression on his face, I regret even running into him.

“I mean, of course you are, who wouldn’t wanna watch me on a weekly basis.” The haughtiness in his tone made me want to throw up, I couldn’t even disagree which was the worst part. He’s so good at what he does it upsets me, if only all that talent came with a muzzle. 

“You literally have zero shame don’t you?” Jeff came up from behind me, his face paint dripping off him, no doubt  from a match may have just had. An unimpressed look on his face, his arm slipped around the back of me, and held onto me almost protectively. I could feel my face heat up from his touch, I wasn’t going to deny him. 

“Meanwhile you’re dressed like some freak.” Randy spat venomously, I was taken aback by his sudden mood change, Jeff’s expression darkened, but didn’t have a verbal response. He took a step forward, Randy mirroring his movements. There’s no love loss between the legacy kid, and mister daredevil. Jeff seemed to get the best of Randy in matches most of the time by out sitting him, and stealing the wins. Which is really more so Randy’s fault by letting his emotions get the best of him. 

Bautista pressed his hand to Randy’s chest. A warning glare in his eyes. “Cool it man, you can’t afford to get into another fight this week.” He mumbled, but Randy wasn’t hearing it. The grip Jeff had on tightening, his nails digging into me as if to hold himself back. 

“Trying to show off around your little poptart, wanna be, girlfriend aren’t you? Please do Jeff, I beg you.” Randy pressed his palms together, goading Jeff into a fight, I looked to Jeff who was clearly thinking about it. He’d do it even if  only to make a point, but before I could get a chance to interject he reared back his fist. Popping Randy right in the nose. My mouth dropped, and my eyes widened. 

“Fuck we gotta go.” I grasped him by the wrist, and tugged him in the opposite direction. We ran until we couldn't hear Randy shouting, and bitching anymore. We rounded the corner, finally coming to a stop. We caught our breath, “you’re gonna be in so much shit.” I sighed once my breathing calmed, I slapped him across the chest. He barely flinched. 

“What, you just wanted me to let him talk about you like that?” He seemed offended by my disappointment, his hand ran through his blue-violet colored hair. 

“Randy is an idiot, being called a poptart isn't the worst thing, I mean he said you were a freak.” My lips pressed together, I could feel myself getting upset all over again, there was never a reason to be so fucking mean. 

Jeff shrugged his shoulders, “yea so? If I had a dime for everytime someone judged the way I dressed, how I talk, or the clothes I wore, well I’d be a fat rich man. But you don't talk about girls that way man, what did you do to deserve that attitude anyway?” Yet again we were standing close to each other, I chewed my bottom lip trying not to say anything stupid, my eyes lowered to the floor. I couldn't understand why he would get himself into drama over something so stupid. 

“Did ya see the look on Randy’s face though, I think I broke his nose.” He grinned, I couldn't help but laugh when I replayed the scene in my head, even Bautista was shocked. 

I shook my head, “by the time he gets done bitching at Stephanie about it, you’re gonna get into so much trouble.” I reached for the bandanna hanging out of his pocket, and began to clean off the face paint. The sweat dripping down his forehead made it easier to swipe away, with my other hand I held him by the chin, he took a step back putting his back to the wall causing me to step forward. I tried to avoid his eyes, acutely aware he was staring me right in mine. 

“It’ll be worth it.” He hummed, his hand reached out to play with my hair, gently sweeping it over my shoulder. His fingers caressing my skin on the way down, then finally rested on my hips. Once I was satisfied with the majority of the paint being gone, I sighed, and wrapped my arms around his neck. 

My eyes dropped to his lips, his tongue flicked out swiping his bottom lip, ‘this is a bad idea right?’ I thought to myself, ‘oh well, what’s spring break without a little fun?’ As if reading my mind, Jeff leaned in meeting me halfway in a deeply passionate kiss. His hands slid up my back holding me closer to his body, I couldn't help but let out a moan as his hands slid down to my ass, and gripped me. I don't know how long we stood there locking lips, but by the time either of us pulled away I was out of breath. My lips were swollen,  my heart was hammering against my rib cage, and my head felt a bit light headed. “So what now?” I pressed my forehead to his, I knew it was getting late, and I was gonna be no good tomorrow if I was too exhausted. 

“Got any time left to get something to eat? I know a diner that’s open late around here.” He offered. A hopeful look in his eyes. I peaked at him from underneath my lashes, my fingers playing with his choker necklace. Voices could be heard in the distance, it sounded like a few of the guys, but neither of us worried about it. 

“Sure, I got some time to spare, as a super fan I'd be honored to have dinner with Jeff Hardy.” I teased, he wrapped an arm lazily around my shoulder, some female talent we passed gave me a nasty look. Trish Stratus specifically did not like what she was seeing, our eyes watched each other as we passed by. I knew that her and Jeff were “involved,” but the extent of that? I was unsure about, however if this was her man she would have said something right?

Jeff, oblivious to this as he was talking, he snorted, “you’re a fan huh? Does this make you my groupie?” He asked jokingly, we were finally approaching my dressing room, Lita was further down the hall talking to Edge, and Christian. They were all laughing obnoxiously about something, but I turned my attention back to Jeff. 

“Oh definitely, I’m gonna write about it in my diary later.” I chortled, one hand on the doorknob, and the pinky of my other hand linked with his pinky. Neither of us wanted to let go, but we both needed a fresh change of clothes. 

“Well, I’m flattered…” He trailed off for a second, then said,  “I wish I could just wait for you here, but I need a fresh outfit so I’ll meet you back here?” 

“You’ll definitely be done before me, so you might end up waiting anyway.” I smiled sheepishly, my face heating up in embarrassment, I felt bad for making him wait after the long night he’s had, so I decided just then that I’d cut down time on my makeup at the very least. 

He made no fuss about it. “That’s fine, see ya in a little bit.” He let go of my pinky, then made his way back the opposite direction, and turned down a hall disappearing. It wasn't till I was behind the privacy of my dressing room door did I let out a long, heavy sigh, the other girls were nowhere to be found, so I revealed in the alone time. 

I didn't fight the dopey smile that grew across my face, “I kissed Jeff Hardy?” After I picked myself up off the floor, I locked the door behind me, and stripped down before getting into a hot shower. Getting dressed tonight has been the easiest task of my life since I was smart enough to pack only one other outfit. Had I been back at home I would have ended up overwhelming myself trying to decide what to wear. I pulled on my coat, then grabbed my duffel bag, and purse, throwing it over my shoulder. When I opened the door, Jeff was waiting outside like he said he would, his eyes taking me in, from my heels making sure to slow up at my legs, and thighs. Then finally landing on my face. 

“Hey…” He greeted me, his eyes sliding over my body, and slowing up at my chest before he got to my face. When our eyes met our smiles mirrored the others, he took me by the hand and walked us out of the arena to the parking lot. The night was mostly over, so there weren't many people left. My phone buzzed in my purse, I fished it out to see who texted me. I clicked on my messages to see I had been left a few, but Lita stood out to me. 

Lita: I nu u were w Jeff the whole time. ;) 

Lita: dont do anything I wdnt do

I rolled my eyes, I don't know if I  should be thanking her, or annoyed that she set me up, I scoffed, “freakin Lita.” 

“Everything okay?” Jeff asked, opening the passenger side door for me, the fall time air blowing my hair around, I peered up at him nodding my head. He watched me with a weary look in his eyes, I enveloped his face in my hands, and pressed my lips to his. He relaxed into me, “I think I’m gonna get in the car now.” He grinned like an idiot, and walked around the other side of the car. The drive wasn't long, but Jeff requested that I talked about myself, so I did. Not once did he interject, and by the time we made it to the restaurant, I felt like I had told him my whole life story. 

“I watched that little show of your’s by the way, you’ve got a lot more talent than you let on.” I was taken aback by this sudden compliment. We sipped on our pop while we waited for our food, and as I sat across from him, he seemed like the most normal guy in the world. “I could have watched that on a loop.” He said softly, his longing gaze making me shift in my seat. 

My eyes dropped down to his hands, I just now realized some of his dark painted nails had designs on them, “do you paint your own nails too?” I asked curiously, it’s something I’ve always wondered, but never had the chance to ask till now. 

“Most of the time, other time’s it’s Lita when we have some time off.” He explained, the image of them sitting together like two siblings painting each other's nails made me smile a little. Yeah that seemed about right.

“Don't tell me they didn't include that information in Tiger Beat.” He deadpanned, obviously no love loss for the magazine company, I cringed at the name, I hated them too.

I shrugged, “I wouldn't know, I’m more of a Teen Vogue girl.” I joked, that’s how the rest of our night went, we talked about anything that came to mind: wrestling, food, fashion trends, travel. Anything to keep the conversation going, Eventually it turned 1 am, I needed to get some sort of sleep before catching up with Lita tomorrow. She wanted to drag me around the mall before they headed to the next town. We sat in front of the hotel, I turned to him, I knew I could have invited him up. The look in his eyes told me all I had to do was offer, but he wasn't going to force it. Knowing I had a whole week to be promiscuous, I decided to prioritize sleep this time, slowly I leaned in, and he met me halfway. A kiss that started off sweet turned into something heated, and needy. We moaned into each other simultaneously, I pulled away first, Jeff was frozen in place. His eyes still closed. “I’m getting out of the car now doofus.” I giggled, then opened the car door. 

He suddenly came back to life, “oh, let me get your bag.” He reached in the back grabbing my duffle bag, and brought it around to my side of the car. I stood patiently waiting for him, my lips still tingling where he kissed me, I took the bag from him, and kissed him on the cheek. 

“See ya later.”I walked backwards in the direction of the hotel, we held onto each other's hands till we couldn't anymore. That night after I got ready for bed, as soon as my head hit the pillows I passed out. That night I dreamed about having a tag match with Lita and Matt, versus Jeff and I, and it was a banger. That might be long into the future, but as far as tonight I had the best time of my life.

[miqojak]

B A S I C S

(Much of this - and more - can be found on her carrd!)

Name: J'kesri Denma - Goes by Jak, her tribal name is known to maybe a total of 3 people? And only one of them is allowed use of it in private.

Nicknames: 'The Dragon', Jackal (the name she went by as a thief on the streets of Ul'dah), Ember (former), Empress Ember (former), Little Robin

Age: 27ish, give or take a year - she's not sure exactly. I've been aging her...once each real life year since 2019 (when I said she was 22ish, give or take some), but she's always just had a sort of estimate on her age.

Nameday: She has no idea!

( I do like to think that she's a Scorpio in our real world Western Zodiac - which I don't know how to translate to Eorzean dates - and a Dragon, like me, in the Eastern zodiac.)

Race: Miqo'te, Seeker of the Sun

Gender: Female

Orientation: I'd say she's over all Graysexual, maybe some degree of Demi or Sapiosexual? The perfect storm has to happen for her to want any sort of intimate relationship... even friendship is hard to manage (she very genuinely seeks out intelligent/clever people to have around her), but a true relationship that's 'romantic' or sexual? Well, the perfect combination of events accidentally happened once. But gender has never really entered into it? She just so happens to have attracted and ended up with men in RP! She was/is poly as well, but has agreed to be monosexual with her current partner!

Profession: Restaurant Manager/Owner, Jazz Club Owner/Manager, Tattoo Artist (by appointment, not widely known)

Not publicly known: Criminal (it's a broad umbrella, but her activities outside of the Yakuza are often no less devious than within), Yakuza leadership (Wakagashira/second in command, current acting head of the family while the Oyabun is on indefinite hiatus), Cat burglar! She's very Selena Kyle - her goal is to do more burglary around Ul'dah to screw over the wealthy elite...and maybe actually do some good for people like her, barely scraping by in the gutters, forgotten by society.

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Black/Orange - most often slicked back and partially braided, partially tied into a tight ponytail. When relaxed/at home she may opt not to do all the work to tame her hair to look more 'coiffed' as she does in public, and it is about shoulder length, and quite curly!

Eyes: Gold/Green

Skin: Olive/light brown, gold undertones

Tattoos/scars:

-Scars: One small slash at each cheek, one across the bridge of her nose. Levin/lightning scarring in bursts at both shoulders and biceps. A long, ragged scar spanning the length of her back, from the inside of the left side of her neck, to the top of her right buttock.

-Tattoos: Black dragon that winds up the right half of her body. Jackal on her left forearm. 3 Phoenix down feathers on her right wrist. A watercolor robin tattooed just under her left breast, along her ribs.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Deceased, slain by Garlemald in Gyr Abania

Siblings: The only one left alive is her twin brother, J'vynia/Vynnie, @miqo-vynnie, who no longer plays...and she kinda wrote Vynnie out of her life after some things she saw as huge betrayals. She talks shit, but she's been off-kilter ever since he left her life! They had a very Yin/Yang dynamic... where Jak was actually more of the Yang/masculine side of things that's very active... and now missing that more passive and down to earth aspect of Yin? She's been really out of control for a long time. Luckily, the lover she never expected to have has done a good job of grounding her.

Grandparents: Unknown.

In-laws and Other: None.

Pets: She doesn't do pets. As much as I like animals... Jak grew up tribal and sees animals as food, and find the concept of a beast in her home dirty and a waste of resources and time. (And one more thing she could get attached to and lose!) Fun fact: She doesn't like any sort of large bird, and they're one of the few things that actively frighten her! This includes things like Griffons, and Chocobos... those big, yellow birds have murder in their eyes... better to eat them, before they eat you.

S K I L L S

Abilities: Keen eyesight and incredibly sensitive hearing; can play piano by ear; martial arts; prefers (non-lethal) poisoned throwing knives/staying at range; when equipped with her DRK soul crystal, her skillset vastly expands - altering her fighting style entirely, and emboldening her with the knowledge that she can now both inflict - and sustain - more damage in close combat.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Diligent/honest - often too honest. She takes even her positive qualities to extremes, and works out too hard, spends too much time trying to excel as a Wakagashira in the Yakuza who is a woman... and she sets extremely high goals for herself and others...which leads into her negative traits.

Most Negative Trait: Judgemental/applies high standards to others. She has a twisted set of standards that makes sense to her, and likely not to many others, most of these rooted in years of trauma - but her high goals were intended to be a good thing. Even for others...she simply pushes both herself, and others (especially if she LIKES you) too hard, more often than not. She believes in constantly bettering oneself, and... she's a creature of extremes. It's hard for her to know when it's too much/she's asking too much...of anyone, to include herself.

L I K E S

Colors: Gold/white, red/black

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Moko only, these days, to relax now and then.

Drugs: Former somnus addict - she's worked hard to beat this addiction...and continues to, because addiction is a lifelong curse even once you're clean! But she doesn't like anyone or anything having control over her - and an addiction controls your life more than any other person could! (Plus it's a way that other people COULD control you, in her mind. All the more reason to have dropped the habit.)

Alcohol: She used to be a bit of an alcoholic, on top of a drug addict - she's had a lot of impetus and encouragement to get her shit together...and has! She drinks recreationally/to relax, but takes it easier these days... you're easier to take advantage of, and more likely to say or do things you shouldn't, when drunk...and she likes to be in control!

Been Arrested: Not yet! She's run from the Blades in Ul'dah more than once...but it's not a crime if you don't get caught, right??

Tagged by: @chadhunkler ! Sorry it took me a bit to find the spoons, but thank you for thinking of me! I do love to do little things like this...and should do this for my Male Miqo and my kitsune to better flesh them out, honestly...

Tagging - some people in my notifs, and anyone who hasn't done it/wants to! @uldahstreetrat, @lightyouarelikes (for whoever you want to do it for), @wpip-raham, @xmimiteh, @twelvesblades (if you want to do it!), @briar-ffxiv , @shieldandarrow , @captainqster

(I'm trying to fight the uphill battle against my depressive apathy/malaise... I know deep down I want to be active and meet people and RP and take part in things!! So thanks for tagging me and interacting, folks!)

[scarscannotbereplaced]

The Dark Truth About Scorpio Rising Men: Decans Unveiled

First Decan of Scorpio Rising (Ruled by Mars)

Alright, let’s cut the bullshit and dive into the first decan of Scorpio rising. These guys are ruled by Mars, the god of war. Yeah, you heard me right. These men are aggressive as hell and impulsive as fuck. They’re the ones you see tearing it up in sports, dominating the gym, and flooding your Instagram with their jacked physiques. Why? Because they’ve got all this pent-up energy and an insatiable thirst for power.

These men have a presence that screams “respect me, or get the hell out of my way.” They’re detached, cold, and couldn’t give two shits about delving into their emotions. Vulnerability? Nah, that’s not their style. They’d rather choke on their own pride than admit they have feelings. They’re the gym bros, the police officers, the selfish bastards who’ll do anything to be on top. They lie, manipulate, and scheme their way to power. If you’re looking for empathy, look somewhere else. These guys are all about that raw, unfiltered Aries energy – masculine to the core and allergic to anything that might bruise their fragile masculinity. Oh, and let’s not forget – they’ve got a psychopathic streak that makes them downright dangerous.

Second Decan of Scorpio Rising (Ruled by Jupiter with Pisces Influence)

Now, onto the second decan, where things get a bit… deeper. These men are ruled by Jupiter, with a touch of Pisces influence. Don’t let that fool you into thinking they’re soft, though. These guys are artistic as hell, with a dark, mysterious aura that keeps you guessing. They’re the musicians, the metal vocalists pouring their rage and pain into their art.

They’re not as detached as the first decan, but they sure as shit aren’t open books. They’re the quiet ones, the guys with headphones on, lost in their own world. You know there’s something intense simmering beneath the surface, but good luck getting them to spill. They’re emotional, much more so than the first decan, but they hate the company of others. They prefer to stick to their family or a close-knit group of 1-3 friends. They’re not plastered all over social media – they prefer to keep you wondering, intrigued by the depth you can sense but can’t quite reach.

Third Decan of Scorpio Rising (Ruled by the Moon with Cancer Influence)

Finally, we get to the third decan, where Scorpio’s intensity meets the emotional tidal wave of the Moon. These men have a presence that can send shivers down your spine. Their aura is dark, almost menacing, but it’s all a front – a protective shell to hide their deep, tumultuous emotions.

These guys are vengeful as fuck. Sense danger or hidden animosity from someone? They’ll destroy them, emotionally, mentally, and if push comes to shove, physically. They don’t take disrespect from anyone and get into a lot of physical confrontations because of their intense empathy. They give respect, so they damn well expect it in return. They’re the martial artists, the fighters with a fire burning in their eyes. Covered in dark tattoos, they walk into a room and command attention without saying a word. Their eyes? They’ll pierce right through you.

And while they look like the kind of men you’d avoid in a dark alley, get to know them, and you’ll find they’re fiercely protective and surprisingly nurturing to their close circle. But don’t mistake their kindness for weakness – they’ve got a manipulative streak, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. They’re incredibly close to women, loving and admiring them deeply, but they manipulate them too, knowing exactly what a woman wants or needs because they’re so in tune with female emotions. They’re the dark knights, the ones who respect women deeply but aren’t afraid to play mind games.

Unlike the first decan, these guys actually have friends – a small, tight-knit group they’d die for. They protect their own with a vicious loyalty, especially the women in their lives. Emotions run deep with these men, and their anger is a force to be reckoned with. They’ll fight anyone for their friends and family, no questions asked.

So, there you have it. The men of Scorpio rising, each decan darker and more intense than the last. They’re not for the faint of heart, but if you’re looking for raw, unfiltered masculinity and a presence that demands respect, look no further. Just don’t expect them to open up – they’re masters of keeping you at arm’s length, and that’s exactly how they like it.

[rewritingrosie]

ᥫ᭡ roleplay partner search !

hello, hello! I’m Rosie, and I’m calling for all those actively seeking new roleplay partners! I’m aiming to pick up a couple new writing partners, as I am 20, all applicants are preferably 18+ at minimum! check and see whether we’d be a match! ‹𝟹

about me !

Hello, hello! I’m Rosie :3

I just turned 20 this past year in october! I’m an admin assistant full time in the rv industry currently, on top of being a writer and a part time artist, so I’m seeking someone who is comfortable with 1-2 responses a day, & is flexible. I’m CST.

I’ve been role-playing / co-writing for about 4-5 years, DnD for about 2 years, and it's a beloved past-time of mine! If I’m not writing or working, I’m spending time with my boyfriend or cats, or playing a game! Eventually, my big dream is to publish a book, even if it's with a writing partner — but really I just enjoy creating!

ཐི WRITING PARTNER QUALIFICATIONS:

AGE RANGE, OTHER:

19-27! I’m not comfortable with writing with minors or men, regardless of whether the content is NSFW. I prefer to write with women or nonbinary individuals over men for the sake of comfort!

PAIRINGS:

I enjoy writing FxM, with me playing the female, unless we double! In that case, I’ll make your sweet dream of a character any day! :)

DURATION:

Longterm writing partners preferred, not into one-shots! We put a lot of our energy into our stories, and I don't like to see that go to waste! When one story ends, I love to see another begin!

ACTIVITY & OOC CHATTER:

fairly active! As we all have lives, provided you let me know if something pops up, I don't mind at all if you can only do 1-2 responses per day! That being said, I am VERY OOC-chatter friendly! I love brainstorming head-cannons, making playlists, pinterest boards (as a pinterest fiend), send tiktoks, and oc info sheets! I also want to just be friends with my writing partners!! It makes the writing come easier, and we spent a lot of time together! :)

PLOTTERS, NOT PANTSERS:

I prefer to be able to world-build to some degree with my partners, even if it's in a modern setting! I want to have someone as invested as I am! Of course, it's perfectly okay if the energy pulls us in an opposite direction later when we get to know our characters better, but the effort is what's important!

WRITING DETAILS:

I typically write in 3rd person, and can comfortably write 3-5 paragraphs per response, while I can scale up if I’m excited! While I can write more, I do tend to have slower responses the longer they are, and can get overwhelmed once we head into the Novella area! :) But I’ll always communicate that! Genre-wise, I thrive in high, dark, or urban fantasy, but I also enjoy historical or modern settings as well!! I LOVE writing romance, and fluff, so don't be scared if high intensity rp’s aren't your thing — I’m a big softie!

N/SFW:

I am N/SFW friendly, but this is not mandatory by any means for any of my partners! I prefer tasteful spice — 30/70 to 40/60, and by that, I mean I want the chemistry to be there, and I want our focus to be on connection and plot-building! :)

FANDOM / ORIGINAL:

I prefer writing originals over fandom-based stories! That doesn’t mean we can't taken inspiration though!

SOME TROPES / PAIRINGS I ENJOY /DYNAMICS:

enemies-to-lovers, rivals, forbidden love (not to be mistaken with taboo!), secret identity, soulmates or ‘bonded’ souls (soulmate tattoos), opposites, protection tropes, academic rivals, deity with a mortal, artist with muse, assassins sent to kill each other, fake dating, forced proximity, royalty ANYTHING, dating shows, masked character, fallen angels, detectives x criminal, and a LOT more!

* the roleplay itself will take place on discord! I like making personalized servers for us! If interested, feel free to dm! can’t wait to chat!!!

[imavillainok]

ー ♡꒱・！Artist！: Katrina Francheska (Facebook)

ー ♡꒱・Name: Psyche Winters

ー ♡꒱・Nickname: Skye

ー ♡꒱・Age: 24

ー ♡꒱・Birthday: February 10

ー ♡꒱・Gender: Female

ー ♡꒱・Height: 158cm

ー ♡꒱・Weight: 43kg

ー ♡꒱・Hair Color: Light Blue

ー ♡꒱・Eye Color: Pistachio Green

ー ♡꒱・Type: Transmutation

ー ♡꒱・Abilities: Blood Weapon, ????????????, ??????

ー ♡꒱・Jap VA: Misato Fukuen

ー ♡꒱・Eng VA: Leah Clark

ー ♡꒱・！Artist！: @minyume (instagram)

ー ♡꒱・Appearance: Psyche has light blue hair with pistachio green eyes. She has fangs and a mole below her right eye. She is around 158cm tall and wears a red oversized jacket, a black tube top, and shorts. She has a Phantom Troupe tattoo on her right upper thigh.

ー ♡꒱・Role: Psyche is Feitan Portor's partner and a member of the Phantom Troupe, holding the 15th spot. She has the Phantom Troupe's tattoo on her right upper thigh.

ー ♡꒱・Abilities: As a transmuter, Psyche can manipulate blood and turn it into weapons. Her favorite weapon is a huge scythe.

ー ♡꒱・Personality:

• Psyche is a bubbly and outgoing person, but only around Feitan and those she trusts. She is wary around strangers.

• She has a fierce personality and is not afraid to speak her mind. She has a sharp wit and a quick tongue, and is often able to outsmart her opponents with her intelligence. Psyche is a natural problem solver and enjoys coming up with creative solutions to complex issues.

• She is easily bored and needs constant stimulation and variety in her life.

• Psyche can be charming and charismatic when she wants to be, but can also come across as manipulative or calculating.

• Allows Feitan to control her, despite valuing her independence and freedom above all else.

• Psyche can be emotionally detached at times, but she cares deeply about those she's close to and will go to great lengths to protect them.

• She can be stubborn and opinionated, but is also open-minded and willing to consider alternative perspectives.

• Psyche is extremely loyal to Feitan and the Phantom Troupe, and would do anything to protect them. She is also very possessive of Feitan and can get jealous easily if she feels like someone is encroaching on their relationship.

• Despite her petite appearance, Psyche is a fierce fighter and will not hesitate to use her powers to defend herself and her loved ones. She is particularly skilled at using her blood manipulation powers to create deadly weapons.

• Enjoys provoking and teasing others

• Psyche has a bit of a mischievous side and enjoys playing pranks on her fellow Troupe members, especially Feitan. She also has a fondness for cute things, like stuffed animals and sweets.

ー ♡꒱・Background: Psyche woke up in Meteor City with no memories of her past. At the age of five, she was found by Feitan Portor, a member of the Phantom Troupe, and he took her under his wing. She discovered her blood manipulation ability at a young age and used it to defend herself from bullies. Psyche grew up in the Phantom Troupe and became its 15th member, fiercely loyal to the group and its goals, but with a special bond with Feitan that kept her close to him. Together, they faced many challenges and dangers, relying on each other and the Phantom Troupe to navigate the harsh world they lived in.

ー ♡꒱・！Artist！: @//EG Arts (Facebook)

Chapter 1: The Little Girl

[theharrowing]

Happy NamGi Day!

in honor of such a glorious holiday, and because i am feeling a little extra today, here are all of my namgi fics, as well as some of my personal favorites!

♡ - fluff | ☽ - smut | ☁ - angst | ✎ - wip | ☆ - personal fav

just namgi

One Day at a Time | 2 parts, 39.4k words, ☆ ❣ Yoongi x Namjoon | ♡ ☽ ☁ ❣feat. established Namjoon & Jung Wheein ❣ past acquaintances to lovers, a/b/o ⚠ infidelity, mpreg, painful knotting ↳ Yoongi loves to help others. As a professional surrogate, he takes pride in using his body to help families bring life into this world, and love into their homes. But when his high school crush Kim Namjoon hires Yoongi to help him and his wife conceive, things get…precarious. |Or, Omega Yoongi gets bred by Alpha Namjoon and holy shit, does he fall in love.

Sun Seeker | 3 parts, 38.7k words, ☆ ❣ Namjoon x Yoongi | ♡ ☽ ☁ ❣ strangers to lovers, tattoo shop au ↳ Namjoon does not do impulsive. He doesn’t understand the fuss about body modifications, and he has never considered getting one. That is, until he meets Yoongi—the prettiest man he’s ever seen, who happens to be a tattoo artist—and he can’t stop thinking about going under Yoongi’s needle to have an equally pretty design tattooed onto his skin. 

Entanglement | oneshot, 10.9k words ❣ Namjoon x Yoongi | ☽ ♡ ❣ best friends to lovers, confessions, loss of virginity, very little plot ↳ Namjoon is eager to finally lose his virginity and decides it would be wise if his best friend Yoongi helps him. (He is totally not in love with Yoongi, or anything…)

Lips Like Honey | oneshot, 13.9 words ❣ Namjoon x Yoongi | ♡ ☽ ☁ ❣ strangers to lovers, light angst, very little plot ↳ Chef Min is easily the prettiest man Namjoon has ever seen and now Namjoon is questioning everything—including his sexuality.

Honsool | 3 parts, 8.5k words ❣ Yoongi x Namjoon | ♡ ☽ ❣ friends to lovers, requited unrequited, snowed in au  ↳ The whole group is snowed in during their winter trip and Yoongi drinks enough whiskey to finally tell Namjoon how he feels.

namgi x reader

Collateral | 22 parts, 245k words, ✎☆ ❣ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon | ♡ ☽ ☁ ❣ feat. Taehyung x Jungkook, Seokjin x Hoseok, Jungkook x Reader ❣ strangers to lovers, mafia au, poly ⚠ drug use, graphic violence, dark themes - see fic warnings ↳Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You. But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

namgi x members

Pretty in Pink (Make Him Purr) | oneshot, 15k words, ☆ ❣ Yoongi x OT6 | ♡ ☽ ☁ ❣ established relationships, canon compliant, animal play, marathon sex, light angst, very little plot ↳ Yoongi—long-established power top of the group—secretly wishes he could shed all of his responsibility and allow the members to take care of his needs while he’s dressed in a frilly pink kitten outfit. Well, it was a secret until Namjoon discovers the outfit, pulling the cat out of the bag, so to speak, and forcing Yoongi to decide whether to show that side of himself to the rest of the guys.

my favorite namgi fics by others

The One by nicedress | oneshot, 22.2k words, ☆ ❣ Yoongi x Namjoon | ☽ ☁ ❣ strangers to lovers, pistolverse au, serial killer au, smut, angst, fluff if you squint ⚠ dead dove! murder, slut shaming, rape culture, open ending - see fic warnings ↳ Every stamen lured into Yoongi’s bed leaves him with a new blossom on his skin and a new grave on his property. When he encounters Namjoon, a stamen who refuses to touch any pistil unless it’s his soulmate, all Yoongi sees is someone naive and easy to control. Someone to help around the farm without complaint. Someone to dig holes without realizing they’re graves. Someone Yoongi’s not quite willing to kill—not yet.

What the Stars Look Like Under You by nicedress | 11 parts, 134.4k words, ☆ ❣ Yoongi x Namjoon | ♡ ☽ ☁ ❣ strangers to lovers, porn star au, sub/dom, smut, angst, fluff ⚠ implied/referenced rape (not between namgi), panic, suicide ideation - see fic warnings ↳ After building a porn career as a popular submissive, a scene gone wrong sends Yoongi spiraling. Switching roles gives him new purpose and shields him from the trauma he’s not willing to face, but having the world’s most pretentious, ecofriendly Dominant steal his spotlight isn’t making things any easier.

Forever Rain by Kumatokkii | 9 parts, 66k words, ☆ ❣ Yoongi x Namjoon | ♡ ☽ ☁ ❣ enemies to lovers, rapper au, smut, angst, eventual fluff ↳ Underground rappers Agust D and RM have had an unspoken feud that's spanned years, always hinting at each other in their lyrics, never fully saying it. Then Agust D crosses the line and calls him "Namjoonie" in his rap, on stage, for all to hear... To Namjoon's utter embarrassment.

♡ - fluff | ☽ - smut | ☁ - angst | ✎ - wip | ☆ - personal fav

HAPPY NAMGI DAAAYYY!!! 🎉🎈💜

[explosionshark]

What's your top 5 impactful artists? Impactful is up to interpretation here. Or top 5 impactful albums. You get to pick 😁

ooh i think i'll go chronologically here

linkin park - i was like? 12 when meteora came out? it was a life changing record. that was the age i was truly starting to get into music and meteora was the first CD i picked out for myself that i became properly obsessed with. i had a burned copy of hybrid theory i got from one of my friends but though i loved it, nothing compared to the blissful angst of laying in bed listening to "somewhere i belong" on repeat

nevermore - this whole band but specifically the album dead heart in a dead world really were life-defining albums. they were my favorite band for many years. this band made me a metalhead. i grew up listening to them (my dad was always a big fan) but that never made them feel any less like a life changing discovery i made for myself. i used to listen to their music and read the lyric booklets with a pocket dictionary in my lap so i could look up the words i didn't understand. i got one of my cousins around my age really into them at the same time and that became this massive thing we bonded over for years. i feel like i owe every good thing in my life that came out of my relationship to metal to this band specifically. hugely, hugely important.

american football - the next biggest band to mark a massive change in my life and my music taste was probably these guys. they were my jumping off point into emo, which marked a major expansion of my music taste and interests after a solid few yeas of just being a metal guy. THE record would be the self titled, of course. nothing since they've reformed has hit quite as well. there are other emo bands that had a huge impact on me, but the fact is i wouldn't have gotten into braid or rainer maria or whoever else if amfootball hadn't opened that door for me first, so they're the band that gets to go on this list.

amanda palmer/dresden dolls - trust me i'm well aware of the problems associated with these guys but it doesn't change the fact that they were, at a time when i really needed a reason to live, artists with a life-saving impact on me. if that's a hyperbolic statement, then it's only barely so. i was truly obsessed. went to every show i could. went to coachella for the AFP set, met amanda after, teared up telling her how much her music meant to me when i was struggling with the aftermath of coming out to my family and her kindness to me in that interaction helped motivate me to come out on the drive home to the person i went to the festival with. sometimes the right band at the right time in your life can really be a life preserver. despite everything else, i'll always feel grateful for that. so glad i didn't get the tattoo i was contemplating at one time, though

screaming females - in terms of impact i couldn't write this list without including this band. literally, tangibly changed my life to be a fan of theirs. back in 2015 i posted some fanfic for this video game i liked, got a nice message from someone complimenting my work, clicked through to their blog and immediately see a photoset of marissa paternoster playing a bloody guitar and immediately messaged them back to talk about music and life is strange. we had an immediate, profound, and powerful connection. 8 years on @holdsteady is STILL my best friend. i wrote a story with her. we've been to shows together. we ate street hot dogs together. i taught her to make potato wedges. she introduced me to some of my favorite bands. i made chili for her dad. i lived in her basement for a month. i literally don't know what kind of person i would be or what my life would look like if we never met. and we owe it all to the fact that we both fuckin love tiny lesbians that shred on guitar.

this was such a great ask! i'd love to hear your answers. actually, i'd love to hear from a bunch of different people. soooo

@necrotic-biotic, @angrypedestrian, @holdsteady, @nataliving, @uneasyhearts33, @gothprentiss, @100percentdirtball, @shewhosleepsalotincemeteries, @morhdd, @chaseprice if any of you guys wanna do this too i'd love to see it (but no pressure)

[limi-pie]

Like a butterfly part 1

A/N: Ello’ I’ve finally managed to pull through my laziness and correct part 1. I apologize for ghosting you guys and not updating regularly. ^^" Honestly the idea of Yuta being a tattoo artist and getting tattoos done by him is asdfghjkl, I can’t help but fangirl also let’s not forget his performance and his hot tattoos. (Lord have mercy.)

So I hope you guys enjoy this.

🦋 < Teaser – Next part >

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Female! Specific Reader

Contains: Non-idol AU, Tattoo AU, Tattoo artist! Nakamoto Yuta, Librarian! Y/N, Multi idols from different groups, Comedy, Friends to lovers, Romance, Complicated relationships, Hints of jealous Yuta, Mentions of cussing, piercings, and tattoos.

Warnings: Alcohol, drinking, smoking, cigarettes, light smut, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, hickies, oral sex (female) receiving, lying.

Wordcount: 7,960

Disclaimer: The reader I’ve created in this fanfiction is a woman of East Asian descent (she’s half-Japanese and half-Korean) and she has certain features and looks a certain way. The reason for this is that I wanted some more East Asian representation in Kpop fanfics! Some of these relationships between said persons are only meant to be considered fictional, in no way do I ship them in real life. They’re just there to add dynamic to the plot. (Also, because my multi fan ass just wants to have fun.) Please keep in mind that the way I’ve described the idols in this story is in no way real or representative of how they behave in real life, this is just based on my imagination.

Also in this fanfiction, some said persons are involved in an abusive, unhealthy and manipulative relationship. Please keep in mind that this is all fanmade and fiction. I don’t encourage this kind of terrible relationship and if you are in one, please seek help. Never put yourself second to anyone; remember that you’re important and loved. 💚

You stepped down from the ladder, the dangling name tag attached to your white cardigan ‘Miyoshi Y/N’. You’re an intelligent and hardworking woman in your mid-twenties, 24 years. Finding huge happiness in reading tons of Shoujo Romance mangas, and loving the romantic and sweet themes. Innocent, feminine, a bit timid, quiet, and introverted are usually the words people associate you with. In a way you were like a tiny timid turtle; you wouldn’t come out of your shell unless you felt comfortable around them. People always misunderstand your silence, it’s not that you hate speaking or interacting with them. It’s not easy to engage in speaking so comfortably with new people, it’s always such a challenge to even start the conversation.

You pushed the cart with books, carefully scanning the shelves in search of the biology section.

You were an only child of a Korean father and a Japanese mother, and growing up you had a hard time making lots of friends. Being a mixed kid was a struggle, you often got bullied or picked on for not ‘looking’ or ‘behaving’ like a specific ethnicity. You went to elementary and middle school in Japan. But you spent most of your adolescence and high school years in Korea. That’s where your love for reading began to bloom. It was your way of escaping the troubles, pain, and loneliness of your life. You found comfort in the world of books, how your mind could take you to different places.

You smiled, scanning a few books and placing them on the ‘returned’ shelf.

But that makes perfect sense as to why you work as a librarian after all! That’s right, getting to work at The National Library of Korea in Seocho-Gu was like a dream come true.

You yawned as you climbed up to the ladder’s third step, sorting out some newly arrived manga volumes in the Romance/Shoujo section. When a young man with jet-black hair and fair skin approached you.

“Excuse me, Miss, sorry if I’m bothering you but could you help me find something?”

The man looked at you as he was wearing a brown leather jacket, a black tank top underneath and some pair of black ripped jeans. You noticed the many piercings in his ears, black nail polish, and several silver rings covering his fingers. He gave off the bad boy or a typical troublemaker.

“Of course, Sir. What do you need help with?” You answered politely with a small smile as you put the books back onto the shelf as your eyes finally met.

Although you have a boyfriend… You had to admit he was dangerously hot for a bad boy. Somehow couldn’t keep your eyes off him even if you wanted to.

“Well, I need help with finding this book about butterflies, apparently these beautiful creatures have been very popular recently. Sorry let me explain, I work at a Tattoo Studio and I need some references to sketch them out. Lots of clients have been requesting butterfly tattoos. Sorry if I spoke too much.” He bowed his head as you stepped down from the ladder.

You couldn’t help but admire how passionately and confidently he was about his work, “my, that’s wonderful. I mean butterflies are unique and beautiful. But sure thing! I’ll help you find that book. Please follow me.” You said, bowing back and walking to the large shelf stacked with books about animals.

“I believe it should be on the uppermost shelf. Let me just get that for you.” You moved the ladder from the middle of the shelf to the left and carefully climbed up to the last step of it.

His hands reached out to hold the metal ladder, “let me just make sure I hold this for you. In case it moves around. I’d feel terrible if you fell.” He stated and looked up with a sweet smile on his face. “Ah, thank you,” You nodded and grabbed the book, stepping down. “Here you go, let’s go to the register so I can lend you the book.” He took the book, bowing his head as he followed me to the self-issue machine, “alright may I ask if you have the Korean Library Card?” The man nodded before, tugging his hand into his pocket and he pulled out a small wallet. He took the card out in a swift movement holding it between his index and middle finger.

“Here you go, Miss Miyoshi…” He said, looking at your name tag as you bowed, accepting the card with both of your hands. “Thank you.” You scanned the book and his card as the beeping sound of approval went through. “You have a month to return this book if you see any bruises or damages beforehand. Please contact the library as soon as possible.”

He took the book as you returned his card, “ah, thank you. May I ask a stupid question?” He looked at me waiting for your response. “Um, sure what is it, Sir?” The man asked the question in a foreign language when his voice changed slightly.

“もしかして、日本人ですか?” (Are you by any chance, Japanese?)

“ええと? もちろんです.” (Ehh? Of course I am.)

You’re not fully Japanese. You’re actually half Japanese and Korean. But speaking with this stranger you felt like not getting into too many details, fearing you would be met with prejudices.

You both chuckled, smiling at each other as you spoke in Korean again. “It’s very rare to find Japanese people in Seoul, so I was quite happy to find someone else like me.”

“中本。中本悠太です。はじめまして.” (I’m Nakamoto. Nakamoto Yuta. Nice to meet you.)

“Nice to meet you too, Nakamoto-san,” You replied to him in Japanese as you tugged some hair behind your ear. “Anyway thanks for all the help, I’ll take good care of this book.”

“またね.” (See you.) Nakamoto said as he turned around walking down the stairs as you admired his figure watching him as he left through the exit.

It was an unusual and rare encounter to stumble upon a Japanese person in Seoul.

You had a few hours left so you were just cleaning some empty dusty shelves just to kill time. It was finally 5:00 PM and you were off, the sun began to set soon, and the sky was a perfect mix of cold and warm contrasts. “Irene Unnie, I’m off.” You said, wrapping the blue scarf around your neck.

“Mhm. Great work today, Ms. Miyoshi. See you tomorrow and have a great evening.” You bowed and took your leave as you left through the back exit. You texted your dear boyfriend Bryce and made your way to Seocho station, waiting for the usual Line 2 to arrive.

You: “Hey, Babe.”

You: “I finished work, want to eat dinner together?”

You: “I’ve discovered this new restaurant nearby.”

You walked inside Line 2, headed towards Sindorim. Luckily you didn’t live too far away from the library, it was approximately 5-6 stops away and the trip would be around 20-30 minutes. Even closer to your roomie’s University, she studies at (SNU) Seoul National University. To your surprise, he replied for once and did not leave you on ‘read’.

Bryce: “I can't, I'm too busy right now and later tonight.”

Bryce: “Could you lend me some money?”

Bryce: “I’m quite broke. And I need a ride home.”

Although you really love Bryce, you wish he’d change and mature a bit. He always asks you for money, even though he got a full-time job as a waiter at a restaurant.

You: “How much is it this time?”

You felt frustrated with how often you’ve asked that same question within a month.

Bryce: “6,000₩.”

With a bit of hesitation, you sighed heavily before sending the money to him. “Always the same, nevertheless,” You told yourself as you saw that the station was Sindaebang and it was time for you to get off. You decided to dial your roommate, and she picked up while her voice sounded relaxed.

“What’s up, Y/N-Unnie?” The woman said while music was playing in the background. “Nothing much, have you eaten dinner yet, or are you with Jungkook? I’m almost home, just getting off the subway.”

“Hmmm? Didn’t you and Mr. Asshole Bryce have a dinner date tonight? Did that jerk stand you up again?” You could already imagine her raised eyebrows and frowned expression even though you only heard her voice. You used the elevator as you walked away from the station and headed toward your apartment building.

“No look, Chaeng it’s not like that.” You excused.

Who are you kidding…? Why do you always keep defending him…?

“Miyoshi Y/N. This is within 2 weeks and all he’s been doing is canceling all his plans and dates with you! Are you really okay dealing with this kind of bullshit? How many times are you gonna let it slide? Sheesh. When you’re home, we're going to talk about this.”

You knew Chaeyoung hates Bryce’s guts. But her scolding you make you feel sadder. You sighed as she hung up. Usually, she ends a phone call with a ‘see you at home’ or bye. But you could tell she was furious this time…

You went inside and headed to the first floor, you typed in the password halfway through as Chaeyoung opened the door before even letting you type the rest. “Come inside, we need to talk.” She said walking inside the kitchen, her voice was stern and serious, usually, Chaeng’s tone was playful and bright. But you suppose you’ve angered her by telling her that he stood you up once again and asked you for money. You hung your beige fall coat along with the tote bag on the coat rack and tugged your shoes on the shoe rack. “Sit down.” You sat down on the chair at our dinner table, looking up to see her with crossed arms.

“You’re mad. Aren’t you?” You said sheepishly, looking at her. “Mad? I am extremely outraged! Y/N, for fuck’s sake! He can’t just keep doing this to you!” She lashed out with her arm, pointing at the door. “Bryce can’t keep canceling all his dates with you and beg for money! That’s not what a real boyfriend would do!” You stood there dumbfounded not knowing how to respond so you chose to be silent. “Listen, I don’t want to be the one to break it to you. But–” You knew she had something hurtful to say but she chose not to say it, knowing it would most likely upset you. The tears started forming around your eyes as you felt yourself shake.

You’re used to Bryce scolding you and yelling at you. But it’s a different case when it’s your best friend, roommate, and childhood friend since you knew each other for so long. This was your first time hearing that raised voice of hers.

“Y/N. Miyoshi Y/N. You better not cry… Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry over a jerk like that!” Chaeyoung said desperately but you were already whimpering and weeping, “sorry. I’m sorry, Chaeyoung… I’m so stupid and such a big idiot…” You apologized, looking down at the floor, your voice shaking, “don’t apologize, please don’t say that to yourself.” She said, wrapping her arms around me and giving me a tight hug.

“Look I’m sorry for raising my voice at you and scolding you, Unnie. I just don’t want Bryce to keep disrespecting and mistreating you like that and making yourself feel small because of him.” You nodded, wiping the tears away as you hugged her with your free arm. “Next time he cancels on you like that, I won't let it slide so easily.” You sighed and nodded rather quickly, “anyways, no I didn’t eat. I actually finished class at 3:00 PM. But I just dropped by Jungkook’s place for some of his hoodies I’ve borrowed. He’s been getting a lot of night shifts in Daegu, so we’ve been face-timing a lot,” Chaeyoung chatted as you listened.

Unlike your hopeless relationship with Bryce, Jungkook seems to genuinely care about Chaeng. After all, they started dating 6 months ago.

“Wanna go and grab some delicious spicy blue crabs, Unnie?” Chaeyoung asked, holding her car keys up and rustling them. “I’d love to, Chaeng! Let me just change, these heels have been killing me all day!”

You wore a black knee-length skirt and some stockings underneath paired with a loose light blue sweater. “Are you ready, Chaeng?” You exclaimed, putting on your black Mary Jane shoes, “yeah I’m born ready, shall we go?” She said, wearing her black Converse sneakers, ripped denim jeans, and a white t-shirt.

Yuta went back to the tattoo studio as he showed the book to his co-workers. “Hey, you two. Check out these beautiful butterflies.”

“Thanks to the recent Korean Dramas, ‘NeverTheLess’ and ‘It’s Okay To Not Be Okay’ that have been so popular.” Ten voiced, cleaning the counter as Johnny swept the floor. “Hmm what should we eat for dinner?” He asked, looking at the two of them.

“On such a windy day how about some warm and cozy Soon-dubu Jji-gae?” Yuta suggested, flipping through the pages of his book.

“That doesn’t sound too bad, Johnny and I will get it while you keep an eye on the place.” Ten said, smiling as he got his leather jacket and helmet. “Right, we’ll be right back, Yuta,” Johnny said, walking out with him. When Yuta picked up his phone as a woman spoke.

“Ah Miya-chan, what’s up? You’re nearby?” He replied in Japanese, looking out the window.

“Well, I’m about to eat dinner. Wanna join us?”

“No, I'm alone at the studio right now, should we see each other tonight? Alright.” He hung up as he sketched some messy doodles of butterflies.

“Annyeonghaseyo, two spicy blue crabs, please.~” While Chaeyoung ordered as you waited for the waitress to find you a clean table. She seated you two at a table near the window as you bowed soon after Chaeyoung returned, sitting across from you. “It’ll be ready in less than 40 minutes or so,” she informed me when two guys walked by the window as she waved. They entered as Chaeyoung greeted them with a cool handshake, the one guy usually does when they greet each other.

“What’s up, Suh?” Chaeyoung said, leaning back a bit as she laughed, “sorry, you know I like joking around with your name, dude.” You got up and you bowed your head.

These two must be one of Chaeyoung’s many friends. You felt a bit overwhelmed since you aren’t used to being around people that you hardly know.

Chaeyoung wrapped an arm around me as she smiled, “this cutie pie right here is Y/N Miyoshi. Y/N, this tall giant is Johnny Suh and the sexy dude is Ten Lee.” The tall man bowed too as he smiled, “it’s nice to meet you Ms. Y/N.” Ten stepped forward, also greeting me, “yeah, it’s an honor meeting Chaeyoung’s cute roomie that she always talks so much about.”

“It’s a pleasure meeting you two as well,” You said and smiled as Chaeyoung hugged you, “anyways what are you getting? Wanna eat together?” Your eyes widened at her words. “Chaeng…” You gently hit her shoulder as a warning, “we’re just going to order the Soon-dubu Jji-gae to the studio,” Johnny said, chuckling at me. “What about Osaka Prince? Is he at the studio or with Miyawaki-chan?” She asked, rubbing her shoulder and giggling at me. “He’s at the studio, but I wouldn’t be too surprised if she actually decides to visit or even call him.” Ten answered as he went to order.

“Say, do Osaka Prince and Miyawaki-chan have a thing going on between them, or are they just messing around?” Chaeyoung questioned, resting her chin on the back of her hand.

“I think they’re close but not dating, you feel me? Lately these days he’s just been very focused on his artwork. And Miya on her modeling career.” You stared at your phone, trying to distract yourself from not engaging in this conversation.

“Here’s your spicy blue crabs and a large bowl of hot steamed rice,” the waitress placed the plates of food on the table. You expressed your thanks, “man this looks way better than the last time we ordered it!”

Chaeyoung said as she grabbed a piece of crab. “Well, bon appetit to the both of you, later, Chae,” Johnny said, leaving with Ten who got their order. You used a spoon to scoop out the delicious spicy crab meat as you placed it on a riceball topped with a piece of seaweed.

You hummed in response to the tasty dinner as Chaeyoung smiled, “wah, it sure is intense, want to get a drink?” She asked, fanning her mouth as you nodded, “excuse me could we order some drinks, please?” The waitress caught your attention as she asked, “Sure, what would you like to drink?” The waitress held her pencil and notepad. “One banana milk and a glass of water–”

“–Strawberry Soju, pleaseee~” Chaeyoung interrupted as she giggled, chewing her rice. “Ehh? Chaeng, don't you have classes tomorrow morning? Is it alright for you to get this drunk on a Tuesday evening like this–?” You asked when she wrapped an arm around you, “–don’t worry, after all, you’ll make the best hangover soup, hehe.~” You sighed in response after finishing your meal.

“Alright, banana milk and a bottle of strawberry Soju coming right up,” she said, noting it down as she excused herself. “What time do you get up for your morning class tomorrow?” You asked, ready to set alarms cause she usually blacks out after drinking just one bottle. “Mine starts at 8:00 AM, it’s just art history and repetition of important keywords.” Chaeyoung said, texting on her phone, “ah that’s nice, well you always loved art so much. So I know you’ll be just fine,” You laughed, pointing at the tattoo behind her ear.

“Oh yeah. That reminds me that I need a new tattoo! Can you tag along with me, this Thursday? Jungkook has an investigation to do in Busan so unfortunately, he can’t join me this time,” she said, eating some rice in a piece of seaweed. “Umm, I don’t know, I’ve never been to a Tattoo Studio before Chaeng–”

“–That’s okay, you just have to be my moral support while I get the cherries done on my right shoulder,” giggling as her cute dimples appeared.

“Here are your drinks, sorry for the long wait,” the waitress placed them down, “enjoy.”

Chaeyoung popped the bottle open and took a long sip. “Say, did you meet any cute guys at the library today?~” She asked you all of a sudden, “ehh Chaeng? What are you talking about? I’m too focused while at work and besides, I got a boyfriend!” Finishing your banana milk as her question made you super flustered. “Aw come on, you’re in a good mood today. I can tell you met someone special,” pressing both of her arms on the table as she winked at me.

Was it that obviously written on your face?

“Well, I met this Japanese man who wanted a book about butterflies… It was work-related to his Tattoo Studio.” You mumbled, your cheeks slowly burning up with shyness. “Ahh, that’s sorta sweet. What was he like? Cute? Attractive? Strong? Handsome?” Chaeyoung asked question after question, “he had black jet hair, umm lots of piercings, and sorta gave me bad boy vibes. He seemed passionate about his work, a very sweet smile” You added, thinking back at him.

“You seem to be sorta crushing on him, Miyoshi.~” She pointed out as you tried to deny it, “Chaeng it’s not like that… I have a boyfriend and so what if I find him handsome?–” You covered your lousy mouth immediately after admitting that. “Oh my~ Y/N seems too naughty and mischievous, hehe~” Chaeyoung giggled, she was clearly already tipsy after emptying half of that Soju bottle.

“Look Chaeng, I’m not cheating on Bryce. Besides he was just a kind stranger, I don’t think I’ll ever meet him again.” You said with a subtle sad tone in your voice as you fidgeted with your plastic straw. “Well it’s not like it’s impossible, you know it’s all about chance.~” She smirked teasingly as you finished your banana milk and got up, “come on, let’s get you home, drunk strawberry,” wrapping her arm around you as she stood up. “Yeah, yeah. Mom.” She said, the bottle in her hand as you chuckled.

“You got any cigs?” She asked, straddling his lap as he kissed her neck. “I do. In my leather jacket, Miya-chan,” Yuta said, kissing her collarbones as his hands ran up and down her back. “Mhm~ Nakamoto-kun, you’re so handsome~” Miyawaki giggled, kissing him deeply, “so what time should we meet later?”

Yuta hummed, looking at the clock “let’s say 10:30 PM?” He suggested, rubbing her thigh slightly as he had a sly smirk. “Deal. Don’t keep me waiting,” she said, giving him a slightly mean look as he chuckled. “I’ll try, I’ll try.”

“Ohh so we got a visitor.” The tall man joked as he placed the plastic bag of food on the table. Ten followed him as he chuckled, “so she came after all, what’s up, Miyawaki?” He waved, grabbing a pair of chopsticks, “nothing much, just stopped by to say hi to Nakamoto-kun,” Miyawaki said, eyeing Johnny as she got off Yuta’s lap.

“What, did you order this time? Tteokbokki and Ramyun?” She walked over, checking the plastic bag, “no. Yuta wanted some warm and cozy Soon-dubu Jji-gae on a windy day like this.” Ten said, getting some bottles of Yakult from the refrigerator.

“Ohh yeah, we had to tell you that Chae and her cute roomie said hi.” Johnny said, handing him a bowl and a wooden spoon, “are you eating too, Miyawaki?”

Ten asked, holding out a bottle of Yakult. “Mmm, no. I think I should get going, see you later, Nakamoto-kun~” she said, kissing Yuta’s cheek as she left. “Always leaving so quickly, does she not like us?” Johnny asked, slurping the delicious spicy sauce. “Yeah, it feels like Ms. Miyawaki always seems to be in a hurry whenever we show up.” Ten added, drinking his Yakult. “It’s not like that. I mean she got a boyfriend and that's why she’s always rushing off,” he said, taking a sip of his Yakult, “she’s not my girlfriend, but she always comes to me whenever Hisashi is troubling her.”

We were finally home as your roomie was busy throwing up in the bathroom, you knew you’d had to go and get her some medicine. You knocked on the door, “everything alright, Chaeng?”

“Yuh… could you get me some meds?” She panted as you nodded in response, “just one packet?”

“Make it two… also some headache pills.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” You said, walking to get your shoes.

Yup. That’s your roommate, short, black pixie cut-styled hair, dark brown eyes, and fair skin. Son Chaeyoung, 23 years old, is a wild and outgoing woman who always parties and goes nightclubbing. Super creative and artistic, her sense of fashion is quite trendy, chic, sorta tomboyish, and highly influenced by street style. You rarely see Chaeng in skirts or dresses as she prefers pants or shorts. She’s studying Fine Arts and Performing Arts at Seoul National University, also known as “SNU”. She gets along with pretty much anyone due to her naturally extroverted and funny personality. She has been your roommate for almost 2 years now.

“Hello, may I ask for two packets of hangover medicine and a pack of headache pills?” You asked, walking to the counter of the pharmacy. “Of course, Miss, do you need anything else?” The cashier asked, “ah, no thank you,” You responded and bowed, paying.

“So what are you and Miyawaki Sakura?” Johnny asked, standing outside with him.

“Friends with benefits, only using each other solely for a short moment of embrace and pleasure,” Yuta said with a cigarette in his mouth, “so that we’re happy with ourselves.” A small flame lit as he inhaled and then exhaled the smoke. “Right, I guess it does work for some people. There’s no need to be in love or committed in that type of relationship I suppose.” Johnny shrugged, walking inside.

“I suppose not,” Yuta scoffed, watching the night sky as he sighed heavily.

“When is it ready?” Chaeyoung groaned, lying in her bed as you sat by her side. “In around 2 hours, I’m still boiling the ox bones for the flavorful broth.” Moving her bangs away you put a damp piece of cloth on Chaeyoung’s forehead.

“Man this sucks balls!” She yelled out frustrated, “well, if I remember correctly you’re the one who wanted to drink strawberry Soju on a Tuesday evening?” You replied sassily as she pouted.

“Next time, if I ever drink again on such an evening. Please, hit me as hard as you can, Y/N!” You laughed, poking her cheek, “alright, just get some rest. I’ll wake you up once it’s ready.”

You went back to the kitchen checking on the ox bones as you poured them into a sieve. Using the liquid for the broth added the napa cabbages, green chilis, minced garlic, and some Korean fermented soybean paste.

You opened your manga, ‘Say I Love You’, and began reading from where you left off last time. You were into the plot, how Mei was bullied and how she grew cautious of people around her as a result. In a way you could relate to that, not trusting anyone and being so cold. You drowned in the chapter when the male lead suddenly kissed her.

Suddenly the timer went off as the soup was ready. “Here you go, Chaeng.” You placed the tray of porridge and a glass of hot water. “Thank you, Unnie… You’ve saved me!” Chaeyoung exclaimed as she chuckled.

“I’ll let you eat and rest, if you need something just call me. I’ll be in the living room watching anime, okay?” You walked out glimpsing at her as she signaled a thumbs up.

Listening to the cheerful opening, ‘My Sweet Heart’ as you were watching Tokyo Mew Mew. Then suddenly your mother called her on the phone.

Ehh? Facetime? You guess mom has some good news. “Ah good evening, mom. What’s going on?”

“Mmm, I thought I’d call you to let you know that your aunt, Asami, is visiting Seoul with your niece, Ayaka.”

“Ah, that’s great news. When will they arrive?”

“Wednesday or Thursday, they’ll visit your uncle in Jeju Islands first.”

“How is everything with sweet Bryce?”

You didn’t feel like talking about him. But mom has no idea how it is between the two of us right now. You should tell her the truth.

“お母さん…” (Mom…)

“Yes, my dear Y/N?”

“When are you and Appa visiting Seoul again?”

You knew it. After all, you couldn’t bring yourself to explain what had happened between you two.

“Mmm, changing the subject all of a sudden, Y/N-chan? Is Bryce nearby? I want to say hi to him.”

“Bryce is studying with his classmates. Sorry that you can’t see him this time, mom.”

I’m sorry, mom. But you don’t want her to see you hurt.

“Alright, how’s Chaeyoung and her boyfriend?”

“Good, Chaeng’s sleeping right now. She has classes early in the morning tomorrow.”

“What are you watching?”

“Tokyo Mew Mew, but I have to go. I have a lot of work tomorrow.”

“おやすみなさい、お母さん.” (Good night, mom.)

“はい、またね.” (Yes, see you.)

You sighed, turning off the TV. “You should have told her the truth, Y/N, you idiot.” You scolded yourself, hugging your knees.

“Hmm, Nakamoto.~” The woman mumbled, kissing his neck as he traced his fingertips on her back. “Miya-chan,” Yuta whispered, unclasping her bra as she kissed his lips.

“I really like you, Nakamoto-kun.”

These deceiving and empty words of yours. They always gave me hope for our relationship, but I know that in the morning you’ll go back to him.

“I like you too, Miya-chan,” Yuta mumbled before kissing Miyawaki’s neck and collarbones as they embraced each other.

“Should I go down on you first?” Yuta asked, looking at her as she nodded. “I need you, Nakamoto-kun.”

He chuckled, pulling her panties down to her feet as she spread her legs. “Mmh, you’re not as sweet as you were the last time. You taste a bit more salty this time.” Yuta said, licking Miyawaki’s clit as he locked eyes with her.

“That’s because Hisashi is stressing me out.”

“You should just break up with that loser already if he’s not pleasing you in bed.” Yuta scoffed, licking her folds as he stuck two fingers inside her pussy.

“Ahh… it’s not that easy, you know, mmh… Nakamoto-kun.” Miyawaki pouted, throwing her head back. Yuta licked her folds roughly and thoroughly, getting a good taste of her. “I guess not,” Yuta scoffed, sucking on her swollen clit as he moved his tongue up and down her lips. “Ahh…! Besides, we’ve been together for 2 years now, we can’t just break up.” Miyawaki moaned as she came inside his mouth and he licked it clean.

That’s enough. I’m tired of always hearing that excuse.

“Then if your relationship is so serious, why do you always run back to me whenever you have problems with him? Am I your replacement for Hisashi?” Yuta scoffed, getting up as their eyes met in a mean glare.

“Yuta-kun… You know that’s not it. I…” Miyawaki stammered as she sat up. Yuta sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Sorry, I guess that was rude of me to say it like that,” Yuta said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Even if you were right, it gives you no right to speak like that to me, Nakamoto-kun.” Miyawaki belted as she began to put her panties and the rest of her clothes on.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. Don’t talk to me.”

The woman walked out, smacking the door. Yuta sighed, throwing himself on the bed as he stared at the ceiling.

“I’m such an asshole.” He had a sad smile plastered on his face, he closed his eyes.

“もしかして、日本人ですか?” (Are you by any chance Japanese?)

“ええと? もちろんです.” (Ehh? Of course I am.)

“It’s very rare to find Japanese people in Seoul, so I was quite happy to find someone else like me.”

“中本悠太です. はじめまして.” (I’m Nakamoto Yuta. Nice to meet you.)

“Nice to meet you too, Nakamoto-san.”

“Anyway thanks for all the help, I’ll take good care of this book.”

“またね.” (See you.)

Why am I thinking of that pretty woman? She’s like an angel.

Yuta woke up early as he brushed his teeth. “Hopefully Miya-chan isn’t too angry with what happened yesterday… Maybe I should call her later to make up.” He mumbled and started the shower.

The next morning you woke up early to make lunch for yourself and Chaeyoung.

Chaeng probably wants some tasty rice for lunch when she’s slightly hungover from yesterday. “Right, let me just add some fresh cherry tomatoes and lettuce too.”

“Morning’ Unnie,” Chaeyoung yawned as she rubbed her head, “feeling better, Chaeng?” She bopped her head.

“What do you want to eat? You asked, washing the pan under some hot water. “I’ll have some fried eggs and toast.” Chaeyoung hummed, putting the towel on her shoulder. “I’m gonna shower, do you want to use the bathroom before I do that?” You shook your head as she went to the bathroom.

“Um, what do you want to drink? Tea, coffee, or hot cocoa?” Knocking on the door as you waited for her response.

“I’ll have some iced coffee, Unnie.” You heard the sound of water boiling in the kettle as you went back to the kitchen to cook breakfast.

“Thanks for always looking out for me, Unnie.” Chaeyoung smiled, eating her toast topped with fried eggs.

“No need to thank me, you’re my best friend and roommate after all. So it’s only natural we look out and take care of each other.” You responded, eating your steamed rice and pickled cucumbers.

“We really need to find you a new boyfriend soon, you gorgeous girl.” She giggled, sipping on iced coffee.

“What time do you finish classes?”

“Uhh, around 1-2 PM, why wanna hang out?”

“Yeah, maybe we can go shopping or eat lunch together?”

Chaeyoung nodded as she put on her sneakers, “see you later, Unnie.” You hugged her, “have a nice day at school, bye-bye.”

You put on a chiffon blouse and some loose pants. You greeted Ms. Irene as you began sitting in front of the computer, ordering a couple of new arrivals books.

“So what piercing do you want to get?” Yuta asked, showing him pictures of piercings.

“Just my right eyebrow, dude. Like the silver piercing.”

“Got it, Mark.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about getting one for so long.”

“Why haven’t you gotten it sooner?”

“Been too busy with work and training. To even think about it, heh.”

“Woah! I didn’t know that you had gotten a new tattoo, Yuta.”

“Oh, this one? I got it a few weeks ago.” Yuta replied, lifting his shirt a bit as it revealed his beautiful butterfly.

“I got it to showcase what a butterfly tattoo would look like. But somehow this small tattoo turned out to be more meaningful and special to me.” He added, smiling to himself.

When Yuta thought back to when he first encountered Miyawaki Sakura…

“Say, what does this butterfly tattoo mean?” Miyaki asked, looking at his abs.

“The ugliness and pain of happiness, and lack of freedom. That’s what butterfly tattoos symbolize.” Yuta scoffed, finishing his glass of beer as she giggled. “That’s so cool, I kinda like that,” she smiled, hugging his arm.

“Yah, what’s up friends?” Chaeyoung entered as she placed her tote bag on the table. “What brings you here, Chae?” Johnny asked, folding his arms. “Yeah, don’t you have classes right now?” Ten added, looking at her. Mark greeted her as she did the same.

“Yes. I do. But my other class was canceled because our professor had a meeting to attend.”

“Anyways, I’m going to eat my lunch here. Is that okay?”

“As long as you share. Cause that looks really good, Chae.” Mark said, looking at her bento box.

“Well, it looks different from your usual healthy salad and fruits. Are you the one who made it?” Yuta asked, glancing at the onigiris, egg rolls, octopus hotdogs, lettuce, and cherry tomatoes. “No, it’s my lovely roomie who made it!” She snickered, eating an onigiri. “No way, the woman we met yesterday made this bento lunch for you?” Ten exclaimed, eating an egg roll.

This Japanese style of boxed bento looks incredible. I wonder if it tastes as good as it looks.

Yuta took a bite of the riceball and then a bite of the egg roll. “Woah, this is really delicious.”

It’s almost as good as from home. Eating this sure brings me back… This is one of my favorite foods after all…

“Your roommate… What does she look like, Chaeyoung?”

“Mmm, are you curious, Osaka Prince?~” Chaeyoung teased as she held her phone up showing her lock screen. It was a picture of her and that woman, they were in tank tops doing silly faces.

It’s her… that woman. She lives with Chaeyoung. The librarian I met yesterday - that’s her. She looks even prettier than I remember.

“That’s Miyoshi Y/N, for you boys,” Chaeyoung said all proud as she ate her cherry tomatoes. Y/N… So that’s her name.

“So is she single?” Ten asked, poking his elbow at Mark. “Yo dude, why are you looking at me? You’re the one who needs a girlfriend, I’m way too busy with work.” Mark laughed, leaning back on the couch as he ate an egg roll wrapped in lettuce.

“Yo, back off boys, this pretty woman is sadly taken.”

It’s no surprise that a stunning woman like her is taken. Somehow it just hurts my heart a little. “By who?” Mark asked, “by some guy named Bryce, tch I hate him to guts.” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Bryce and Y/N, huh?

“Yuta-Hyung, are you stalking Ms. Miyoshi?” Mark asked, watching him scroll through Chaeyoung’s Instagram feed. “I just want to know her a little better, actually she works at the library not too far from here.”

You were stacking some unopened manga books on top of the shelf as you sighed, “Ms. Irene, I think we need to dust off the shelves before stacking more books on top.”

“Ah yes, let me just get the dust brush.” She walked to the staff’s room as you moved a couple of books on the edge. Then you went down, moving the ladder to the left side as you leaned against the shelf, checking your phone for any notifications.

Why won’t he answer me? I really miss Bryce…

You: “I want to see you later…”

You: “I really miss you.”

You sighed as Irene handed you the brush, “thank you, Ms. Irene,” she folded her arms, “just be careful, Ms. Miyoshi, alright?” She walked back to the counter, helping a woman that had borrowed a bunch of books.

You got up again but this time at the uppermost step of the ladder. It was shaking slightly as you began to dust it off. You tried to reach for the corner but felt your feet lose balance when you suddenly fell. “W-Woah!”

A couple of romance and Shoujo manga books were scattered all over the floor, along with your left heel too. The fall didn’t feel like anything. That was because someone had caught you, with the same black nail polish-painted hands, pierced ears, and dark black hair.

“Nakamoto-san…”

“–Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Somehow you landed on his lap, your right arm on his shoulder as your left hand was on his chest and his right hand was on your leg. In that instant, you were sorta taken aback by this kind of closure between you two.

In a way, it was too intimidating to meet his fine and flirtatious gaze. You looked down when and noticed the butterfly tattoo on his abs, “ah, sorry.” You mumbled, getting off his lap as his hand traced your leg, “wait,” Yuta said, reaching for your left heel as you got flustered. “It’s alright, I can do that myself, Nakamoto-san–” You answered.

“–You were the one who fell so let me at least help you a little.” He said, looking at you with his sexy eyes as he gently tugged your left foot into the heel.

Heh, we’re wearing the same color of nail polish. What’s this silver anklet on her left ankle? A tiny turtle shell… How cute.

“どうもありがとう…” (Thank you very much…)

“どういたしまして.” (You’re welcome.)

“I was dusting off the shelf when I reached for the corner, I lost balance and fell.” You explained briefly, standing up as you stroked your hair.

I didn’t think I’d meet him again… What’s Nakamoto-san doing here?

“It’s a good thing you’re alright, Miyoshi-san,” Yuta said, getting up as he flashed you a soft smile. He handed you a couple of “Kimi Ni Todoke” mangas that had fallen and you bowed. “Yes. Um, I should get back to work.” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn up as you turned to the shelf avoiding his gaze.

Nakamoto-san’s dangerous. He makes your heart skip a beat. It's best to not look him directly in the eyes. He’s probably just a player.

“Ah, actually I came here to borrow another book.” He said, chuckling as you turned around. “Ah, what book is it?”

How come, this beautiful and cute woman was taken by some guy? It’s no use but I can't help but fall for her.

“It’s actually a manga, it’s called ‘Perfect Crime’. It’s one of my favorites.” Yuta said, smirking slightly. “Alright. Then please follow me.” You said, tying your hair up in a ponytail.

“Here it is,” You said, handing him the manga. “Thank you. Mmh, your silver anklet is really pretty.” Yuta smirked, averting his eyes to your ankle. “Ehh? Oh, you mean on my ankle.” You turned your heel as the turtle shell jewelry was wiggling. “Yeah, it’s really cute.” Yuta pursed his lips, looking into your eyes.

What’s with this guy… Is he flirting with me…? “Thank you, turtles are actually my favorite animals.” You responded, scanning his book and ID card. “They’re interesting animals,” Yuta added, watching you.

“Here you go, Nakamoto-san.” You gave him the book as his hand touched yours, “thank you, Miyoshi-san.”

I don’t want it to be the last time I see Miyoshi Y/N. I’ll get another book again another day. If that means that I can keep seeing her then I don’t want it to end yet.

“You’re welcome, anyways I’ve got to go now. I’m off.”

“Ah hey Chaeng. Yeah, I’m just finished, let me just get my things.” You said, applying your brand new cherry lip balm as you pursed your lips. Yuta glanced over, eyes focused on your lips. He couldn’t help but admire your soft lips, wondering what it feels like to kiss them. He looked away as you looked back at him.

Those red lips are so pretty… makes me want to kiss them.

You walked towards the exit when Yuta poked your shoulder, naturally, you turned around.

How do I not lose you? I want to see you…

“Ano… will you be here tomorrow again?” Yuta asked, rubbing the back of his head. “Ehh?” You mumbled, not knowing how to respond to his question. “Sure I will. May I ask, why?” You put your phone in the purse as you looked at him. “I might need help with finding several manga and books. I’d figure you’d be able to find the original ones released in Japanese.”

“Ah well. Of course.” You replied, smiling softly at him as you headed down the stairs.

“またね、中本悠太さん.” (See you, Mr. Nakamoto Yuta.) You waved and looked back at him exiting the library.

“So you met him again? And getting a closeup of his butterfly tattoo, mmm?~” Chaeyoung teased, eating her spicy salad as you sighed. “I wasn’t looking at his abs intentionally, Chaeng… You know…” You mumbled as your cheeks were pink from blushing. “It’s not my fault he was wearing a white mesh shirt…”

“Sure, sure. It’s okay to look at other hot guys when your boyfriend is so shitty, Unnie.”

“Chaeng!” You exclaimed as she sighed, “really… Unnie, you should break up with him, besides there are much nicer guys than him. Like Johnny, Ten, and Osaka Prince, you know.” You sighed, eating your Vietnamese spring rolls.

Although she’s right you just can’t seem to admit it. Somehow you believe that Bryce could change for your sake. But if that was true then he wouldn't ignore you and actually answer your texts…

“But let’s not talk about him now. I’m doing my art project next month and the focus is on the female anatomy. I was wondering if you could be my muse for the project?” Chaeyoung asked, sliding a piece of paper on the table as you checked it out.

“That’s so interesting, what exactly would you want me to do?”

“I’m thinking of taking some pictures of you. Like this, would that be okay with you?” She asked, showing me a naked woman hiding her chest with a white blanket.

“You want me to be naked for your pictures and sketches…?” You mumbled, feeling very shy just the thought of that.

“I know it’s very out of your comfort zone but I’ll make sure to cover your breasts, nudity, and private parts. Also, I’m in a group with other girls and my professor is a woman too.”

“I’ll think about it, Chaeng. I mean it’s your art project so I won’t reject it. And besides, this means a lot to you, so I don’t mind doing it.” You added, drinking your mango basil seed drink as Chaeyoung’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Yay! Omg, thank you Y/N! Unnie, you’re the best!” She exclaimed, putting her hands together and expressing her gratitude for you. “No problem, Chaeng girl. Let’s go shopping now.”

“I can show you a few of my sketches later,” she hummed as you nodded.

“By the way, thanks for the bento you made earlier, it was so delicious! Even the boys loved it!” Chaeyoung said, chuckling as she locked arms with you.

“Ehh? You didn’t eat lunch on campus?”

“Nope, I finished class early after I discussed my project with the professor.”

“Let me guess it was Mr. Suh and Mr. Lee?” You asked as she giggled, “what’s with you using honorifics, just call them by their names.” Chaeyoung said and smiled.

“But I don’t know them that well…” You muttered, looking at her. “Unnie, they consider you as their friend, the tall guy’s Johnny, and the slim guy’s Ten,” Chaeyoung explained as you looked at her. She was being honest and genuine. “But I don’t know how to talk to them… I’m not as cool as you are–”

“–Y/N, don’t doubt yourself so much! You’re amazing and so cool. I’m lucky to have you as my roomie.”

“What do you think?” You asked, wearing a black leather miniskirt for the first time. Chaeyoung whistled and smirked, “wow, Y/N-Unnie you look so fine! So pretty!”

“You think so? Isn’t the length a bit too short?” You said shyly, looking at the way the skirt was sitting on your butt while posing in front of the mirror.

“So what? You should definitely wear it for the party!”

You turned around looking at the mirror reflection and how the skirt looked on you. “I don’t know what to pair this skirt with… I mean I usually don’t wear anything above my knees…” You sighed as Chaeyoung massaged your shoulders, “don’t worry about it, Unnie. I’ll help you out, any outfit paired with your beauty is going to be perfect!”

“This sports bra or the other one?” Chaeyoung asked, holding a sports bra in each hand.

“Mhm, I really like the white one. It’ll look so nice on you.” You said, smiling.

“What should we eat for dinner tonight?” Chaeyoung asked, opening the refrigerator as she looked over at me.

“Mmh, I don’t know. What about Kimchi Jjigae?”

“Sure thing. Let’s do that, Unnie.”

“We can add small pieces of chicken breast,” You said, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a plastic bag with raw chicken.

“You seem to be in quite a good mood, Yuta.” Ten said, drinking some water. “Mhm. I do?” He asked, drawing some birds on a piece of paper. “Yeah, earlier you were sulking and frowning a lot, I’d figure you fought with Miyawaki?” Ten asked as he sighed, “we did, she ended up leaving earlier yesterday. I should call her and apologize.”

“Don’t you want to break off things with her for a change, Yuta?” Johnny asked, checking the cash register as they looked at each other. “I probably should, I mean Miya-chan is already in a relationship. I can’t be her second choice all the time she gets into a fight with him.”

“Apologize? For what exactly, Yuta?”

“I got mad at her for always calling me whenever she fought with Hisashi.” Yuta scoffed, drinking a sip from his water bottle.

“Hmm, you and Miyawaki only see each other once or twice a week right?”

“That’s right, I thought it was better to hook up with Miyawaki every night,” Yuta admitted, rubbing the back of his head. “I hate sleeping alone.”

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A/N: Thanks for reading, all likes, reblogs and comments mean a lot to me, let me know if you want me to add extra tags or something. 💞

< Teaser – Next part >

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[wonkyreads]

Every year I challenge myself to read outside of my comfort zone and in recent years that’s meant a distinct lack of five star reads. This year’s no different as I only reached fifteen, but looking back on it not all of my top ten ended up being five star reads. Sometimes it’s a book that was almost perfect and stuck with me anyway. Sometimes it had major flaws, but meant so much to me I have to love it anyway. I don’t believe and going back and changing my snap-decision ratings because I clearly felt them at one point, but I’ll let this list be more reflective of how I feel now.

So, without further ado:

My Top 10 Best Reads of 2022

10. Dreams Lie Beneath by Rebecca Ross

- My entire review on Goodreads for this is “no notes” and I feel like that says more than I ever could. In Azenor, nightmares come to life on the full moon. Clementine and her father are there to fight them, but when they’re ousted from their village, Clementine seeks revenge. I adored the characters and their choices and the world-building. Honestly, no notes.

9. Warbreaker by Brandon Sanderson

- Warbreaker is not my favorite Sanderson book, but it’s still a Sanderson book. Which makes it very good. Warbreaker follows two princesses, the God King one of them must marry (and all the politics that come with that), a bored lesser god playing detective, and an immortal with loads of baggage (and a talking sword). I think this book is so interesting to talk about because it presents so many sides to a couple different arguments, though I’m partial to the conversation this book has about religion. Sanderson delves into religious conversations often (in a good way), but I think it shines best in Warbreaker. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and the arguments I got to have after it.

8. The Golden Enclaves by Naomi Novik

- The Golden Enclaves is the third and final book in Novik’s Scholomance series so I’m not going to give much plot away. Basically there’s a magic system using language, a bunch of monsters attempting to eat children, and a school built to stop that from happening built in the void becoming a bit of a gauntlet. I think this was a fantastic end to the series and it re-contextualized everything I thought I know in the best way. I wanted to turn around and reread the whole thing again, which is high praise from me as I’ve only felt that way once before.

7. House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski

- Told in nesting story lines, House of Leaves is about an aspiring tattoo artist named Johnny Truant and a dead blind man named Zámpano and a prize-winning, globe-trotting photographer named Will Navidson. Or maybe just one of them. Or maybe none of them. On the surface it’s about Navidson moving into a house with his family, documenting it on film because he doesn’t know how to stop working, and then the book quickly spirals into varying levels of insanity. This book is written in a way that is meant to make you feel crazy. It���s a pure joy to dig into, but it’s definitely not for everyone. There are passages that must be read in a mirror, a letter in the references that needs to be decoded, hidden messages in footnote markers, and a chapter that is itself truly a labyrinth. It’s so easy to understand now how people become obsessed with it. I could talk about it for hours, honestly.

6. Babel by RF Kuang

- Babel follows Robin Swift, orphaned in Canton and whisked away to London to be properly raised and trained to go to Oxford’s Royal Institute of Translation. The magic system and history this book gives us is such a beautiful way to get across Kuang’s messages. I genuinely thought this was going to be my book of the year, but that drag in the middle I kept trying to forget about definitely still exists. It’s an incredibly ambitious book, there’s bound to be flaws. In my heart it still wins, but rationally, there were books I enjoyed more. Just know that I utterly adored everything about this, except some of the pacing.

5. The Female of the Species by Mindy McGinnis

- I’m not sure how to explain this book outside of just the fact that it’s brutal. Told through the perspectives of three very different characters, this book explores rape culture and sexual assault and does so unflinchingly. Seriously, don’t read this book unless you know you can handle that because I truly mean BRUTAL when I say it. This book left a mark and it fully intended to. The conversation The Female of the Species provided was met with equally strong characters, grim humor, and a fantastically tight plot line. Just all around a great, dark read.

4. Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White

- Making this list is forcing me to recognize how often the books I love are just incredibly harsh, brutal things. Hell Followed with Us is about a near dystopian/apocalyptic future where a fundamentalist cult infects people with bio weapons and a ragtag group of young survivors living out of an old LGBTQ+ Center attempt to fight back. It follows an insanely diverse set of characters and tells a story filled with so much rage and religious abuse that it genuinely had me gasping for air at times. This book has a decently long list of trigger warnings, including body horror and religious themes, but my god is it so underrated and worth the read. There are lines in this book that I’m still thinking about and I read it all the way back in July.

3. Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree

- And now a swift departure from dark, heavy books. I didn’t know what to expect from this book when it’s tagline boasted low to no stakes. I was worried I’d be bored or that the editing would lack in ways I’ve been seeing more and more in my latest book choices. Instead I got the most adorable fantasy about Viv, who just wants to settle down into something softer. She’s spent years adventuring and doing questionable and violent things, but things don’t have to stay what they started as. She throws all of herself into opening a cafe in a city that’s never even heard of coffee and struggles with that while picking up the most beautiful found family I’ve read in a while. Don’t be put off by the lowness of the stakes, this book feels like a warm cup of coffee, but it has its drama too. This book means so much more to me than I went in expecting and it’s not often I read a book that I’m genuinely grateful to have read.

2. Letters to a Young Poet by Ranier Maria Rilke

- I’ve loved Rilke’s poetry for a long time and so this collection of letters has been on my TBR for years. I should have read it sooner. These letters provide pages and pages of advice, less about poetry and more about life, and they do it so beautifully. What gets me about these letters, though, is their context. Rilke is taking time to send them to a young man he doesn’t know who’s begging him for advice when Rilke himself has barely made it out of his own woods. These are correspondences between two young men, just steps away from each other in their walks of life, both still looking for clarity. They’re beautiful words I know I’ll read again and again. The annotating I did and will continue to do with this book is insane.

Honorable Mentions

1. Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

- A slow build into utter chaos that made me want to read more of Crichton’s brand of science fiction.

2. You’d Be Home By Now by Kathleen Glasgow

- A beautiful and heartbreaking exploration of the opioid epidemic. Another great book from Glasgow.

3. Nemesis Games by James SA Corey

- Easily my favorite in this series (so far). The stakes were so high, I loved every perspective, and for the first time I wasn’t questioning plot choices.

4. And Every Morning the Walk Home Gets Longer and Longer by Fredrik Backman

- Short and sweet, made me cry in under 100 pages. It reminded me so much of Saturn by Sleeping at Last.

And last, but not least, #1:

What Beauty There Is by Cory Anderson

- The seventh book I read this year (out of 153), this criminally underrated masterpiece still has my whole damn heart. It’s beautiful, thoughtfully written, and just absolutely, brutally violent. What Beauty There Is follows two teenagers with a lot on their plates as they struggle to make decisions that affect lives, not just their own. Jack has to take care of his younger brother now that his mother’s gone and plans to track down the drug money that sent his father to prison. Ava’s been taught to trust no one and lives a life of isolation with no control until her father goes after the same drug money Jack is desperate to find. They both have to make very tough choices on what to do and who to trust. This book hurts. It promises at the beginning that things will only get worse, but watching it all unravel filled me with so much anxiety and dread and hope that I’m quite certain this book will haunt me for years to come.

[suckuhoes]

THE FIRST LADY OF HARLEM.

or, on how izidora & the swavey's family came to be.

PRELUDE. — swavey's is a harlem-based tattoo shop first opened in 2016 by bakari rasheed vaughn, gifted to him shortly after his 21st birthday by eldest sibling katya. while the shop had always been a goal of his & treated as his bread and butter, it was very much operated as a cover for the vaughn family's criminal dealings: the basement of the shop was used as storage for the various guns & weapons being distributed domestically & internationally by katya's lost boys cartel, and bakari often employed those who were directly affiliated in the criminal world of new york as either artists or as the unofficial "security" for the shop. it was also the target of many shootouts in its' hey day.

THE MEETING. — in 2018, izidora's will to live is barely hanging on by a thread. at this point in time, she's already enacted revenge against every single person involved in the victimization & trafficking of herself, her sister, and many other minor & young adult girls within the tri-state area; carina is now found, but currently recovering from her own ordeal in the ICU; and has trapped the cursed souls of her abusers to torment within her amulet, including that of nico's, who she claimed for last. she is now primarily under her mentor shah's care: having been placed in a modest public housing apartment within the dyckman community & employed under the table at a number of jobs in order to get by. on top of practicing kulam & working odd jobs, izidora has taken to tattooing, often providing stick-and-poke tattoos to her neighbors & locals in the neighborhood. she's 22 years old & working nights + lunch shifts at a caribbean diner when she meets bakari vaughn for the first time during a midday shift. to her, he's just another customer placing a lunch order — completely unaware of the fact that her tattoo work has spread rapidly across social media & throughout the city, making her the interest of many artists both locally & outside of new york city. there was just one problem: izidora didn't have a single damn profile on social media, and no one knew where to find the elusive witch. to bakari, she was his biggest reward — and his biggest challenge.

THE ACQUISITION. — as completely unapproachable as izidora was, bakari was determined to prove himself as legitimate & get on her good side; or at least, not get cursed out by the small & volatile waitress. after a few visits & icy conversations with the woman, bakari made his intentions clear: he noticed her ink work, picked up her name from a few acquaintances (who were absolutely sitting on the diner in the weeks prior to his first visit.), and approached her with an offer. up until that moment, bakari's shop was largely operated by childhood friend zay bennett & two other close friends of theirs (smino / vic mensa) signed on exclusively as the primary artists & as full time employees, bakari's secretary & apprentice artist quiana (coi leray), and a handful of freelance / out of town artists who worked within the shop as commissioned artists. having izidora meant having one of the most sought after up & coming artists on his roster, and bakari was willing to do anything to get her — including a generous contract with a $100k sign on offer & a paid trial week prior to her signing. izidora's only condition? if she was going to be the only female artist contracted exclusively under swavey's, then he was going to have to put her name in the window beside his & zay's. no exceptions.

THE BUSINESS. — although it took little to no time at all for izidora to figure out the truth behind swavey's, including what other 'business' dealings bakari had been involved in & the work he was storing and running beneath the floors of his store late at night, izidora quickly grew as one of bakari's most trusted business associates and became extremely close to her as a mutual confidant alongside zay — despite her & bakari's clashing personalities, petty arguments between the two, insults thrown in each other's presences, and overall childishly treating each other as the sibling they never wanted. between mid-2018 and late-2020, swavey's grew from a small hood spot frequented by the bangers & dealers around the block to a legitimate business in the making; due largely in part to izidora. while the woman was rude, foul mouthed, plenty quirky, and terrifyingly aggressive on the exterior, izidora carried a certain presence about her — the ability to cater not only to their original, gritty, less-than-cookie cutter clientele without fear or hesitation while also opening doors for new clients & business opportunities. by her 24th birthday and second year with the collective, she was able to build up her own personal style & an inclusive, loyal clientele (of course, after she caved & allowed bakari & zay to make social media profiles for her. a mysterious queen!) as well as increasing their contracted artist roster and ensuring that all of their female clients were comfortable & secure while having more intimate tattoos done. interviews, magazine features, national expo's, brand deals and a november 2018 documentary all had the same thing to say — the swavey's brand was nothing without izi.

LA FAMILIA. — by january 2021, swavey's grew into a large enough brand that they were in the midst of expanding to a larger building in manhattan, separating from the lost boys cartel & establishing the brand as an official, cleanly run business; then, bakari suffers a near-fatal car accident with months of surgeries & physical therapy. in his absence, bakari makes changes to the hierarchy of the shop, leaving zay & izidora to run the shop indefinitely during his recovery. this is also considered a turning point for the tattoo crew, with the group having grown from co-workers to their own dysfunctional family unit of sorts. during a visit to his home one day, izidora also learns just how deep their own bond had been — bakari reveals to her that his manhattan relocation plans included promoting izidora's position within the company from a contracted artist to a partner & shareholder, and bakari's decision to take on a more serious role in his family's business meant choosing her to help run & manage the new location with zay. by the spring of 2022, the ribbon had been cut, and it was more than a sticker of izidora's name on the window. swavey's now included her name on the building itself & her face alongside theirs on the billboards.

SWAVEY'S OWN. — today, swavey's includes verified social media pages & individual artist pages for each employee on their roster. the much larger shop now includes in-house piercing, three levels, her own office, and an even larger group within their crew. although izidora remains an active established artist with her most loyal clients & a large number of celebrity clients requesting her work, she does have an apprentice under her named alexis (flo milli) to help her out when she has to spend the day on the business side instead. bakari primarily works on his own time, a change brought on due to his nerve damage & cane use following the accident, while zay keeps things running on the corporate end. with nearly a million follows on her personal pages, izidora is officially more than just the first lady of swavey's — she's a brand, bitch!

[cherryxkush]

risky business | pjm, jjk (m) | 2

synopsis: you’re a successful entrepreneur in the beauty industry and after your assistant/best friend sees the spread in Korea GQ magazine of a popular k-pop artist, she gets him on the first flight to California to start a sponsorship deal, and it was none other than the world-renowned fuckboy you met at a product launch party for Gucci two years ago.

pairing: jimin x female reader x jungkook

rating: mature (18+)

genre: enemies to lovers, love triangle, angst, fluff, smut

warnings/content: swearing, employer/client relationship, past situationship, fuckboy!jimin, celebrity!jimin, love triangle, tattoo artist!jungkook, jin is reader’s lawyer best friend

explicit content: brief mentions of sex (varies between chapters)

disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction, and in no way does it reflect thoughts or acts of bts in the real world (:

♡ note: finally!! sorry it took me so long to release this. it’s been a long 4 months :’) also, thank you to everyone who has read, liked, and reblogged my writing and thank you so much for the comments as well, it means a lot to me :’)

there is quite a bit of angst in this chapter, enjoy lovelies! ♡

Previous

This has to be a fucking joke, you said to yourself as you stare at the messages on your phone, jaw agape in shock and your heart dropping down to your stomach.

Jungkook had already left before you woke up this morning, leaving a small, neatly folded note on your nightstand that contained his messy handwriting, telling you that he had fun and he couldn’t wait to see you again.

It was sweet, a warm and fuzzy feeling igniting in your tummy at the thoughtful gesture.

But every ounce of warmth you felt was replaced by your breath hitching and your blood running cold as soon as you opened Naiya’s messages.

You felt queasy, like the world was rocking underneath you and your body couldn’t catch up, the aftermath bubbling and waiting to spill after you’d tried so hard to keep it at bay.

Your ghost was coming back to haunt you, threatening to suck all the air out of your lungs and leave you to fight for your sanity.

Park Jimin. The stunning musician, model, dancer and actor; a jack of all trades, and a master of many. The man who is a muse in all art forms. He’s confident and assertive, reeling you in with a sickeningly-sweet smile and endless charm.

Seeing his name was like a punch to your gut, and the thought of him entering your safe space, your livelihood that you worked so hard for, was the icing on a melancholy, 2 year old cake that you hadn’t dared to touch in fear of reopening a wound.

Park Jimin was your ghost, pervasively seeping into every part of you and you weren’t so sure you could soothe the ache this time.

And to make things worse, your friends didn’t know who he was to you, hearing about your heartbreak in pieces through text messages and cryptic ‘I should’ve known better’s’. They never knew the mysterious guy who broke you, the one who grabbed hold of your heart before you’d even noticed, and crushed it with his own bare hands.

You fought it in silence and shame, spending days holed up in your apartment, detached and in denial.

You should’ve never fell for him.

And oh, how stupid you were to think that you could escape him forever.

Pairs of eyes followed you in fear as you stormed into the office building around 4pm, a scowl etched onto your features and breath caught in your throat. No one dared to get in your way, the staff almost holding their heads down as to not encounter your wrath.

The poor intern was even too scared to greet you and ask if you wanted any coffee, something she happily did every time she saw you.

Your heels met the ground with intimidating clicks as you swiftly and angrily made your way to the board room, only pausing your stride to wait for and enter or exit the elevator.

Once you made it to the top floor, the board room was straight ahead with doors of crystalline glass. Jin sat in a chair facing away from you while Naiya met your eyes on the other side of the door, and she gulped. You were seething.

You pushed open the door, and Naiya instinctively took a few steps back.

“Explain. Now.” You spat.

Jin swiveled in his chair to face you and gave you an inquisitive yet disbelieving look. “What crawled up your ass?”

Your eyes narrowed into slits, “‘What crawled up my ass,’ Jin?” You scoffed. “Park fucking Jimin, that’s what. Are you guys serious?”

Naiya chimed in, “Wait, but what’s wrong? What do you have against Jimin?”

Jin rolled his eyes at you, “Can you not PMS right now, please?”

“Fuck you, Jin,” Both of your friends went wide-eyed, “You have no idea what kind of position this puts me in.”

“Well, maybe if you actually told us what’s going on and why you don’t like him, we can get to the bottom of it so that everything goes smoothly,” Naiya was trying to be the peacemaker.

You chuckled dryly. “Hell no, there’s no way this deal is happening. Find someone else,” You began to turn on your heel, making an attempt to exit the room in frustration.

“I hate to break it to you, but that’s not possible anymore,” Naiya said with a frown.

You spun on your heels, “Excuse me?”

“There’s no way we’d find someone in time to replace him, not if we want to be on time with the launch, and you know how important that is. A-And, he’s is already in California,”

You laughed humorlessly, a look of disbelief adorning your features.

“He should be here any minute now,” Jin coughed awkwardly.

“You can’t convince me to work with Park Jimin. I won’t. We’ll figure something else out, no matter what it is.”

“Now, now,” You turned around upon hearing the door open, a slender, feminine hand placed on the hardware as your receptionist lead the way for the subject of the conversation, the one who turned heads and lit up a room. “Is that any way to greet your client?”

There he stood in all his glory, sleek suit and lavish shades on display, accompanied by a beaming, flirtatious smile.

“Jimin,” you greeted him with gritted teeth, forcing an upward turn of your lips.

“Long time, no see, doll.”

Clearing your throat, you looked Jimin directly in his eyes, an irritated glint accompanying your gaze. “Everyone, can you please give Mr. Park and I the room for a bit?”

You eyed his female counterpart—or, assistant, as he’d probably say—as she stood slightly behind him, clad in a blouse and pencil skirt, with red bottom heels that you’re sure Jimin paid for. She carried herself with poise, and she held her head slightly down, as if she questioned whether she was worth being chosen to come to this meeting. You had been like her once. Young, beautiful and easily manipulated, eager to people-please and have others be proud of the work that you did, longing to be appreciated and cared for by a handsome man who would love you.

She was too good for him. Too delicate.

You were like her once, but you told yourself that you would never be like that again.

She spoke up in a voice that was much too tender for the likes of him, “That won’t be needed, Miss. I am to accompany him during the meeting, as there is business invol–“

He waved her off before proceeding to unbutton his suit jacket, exuding an annoying aura of confidence that made you silently clench your teeth while he smirked. “It’s fine, Minji. She’s an old friend.”

She took a step back and held her head down as if she’d made a mistake, and your gaze softened upon witnessing her reaction.

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” you gave her a small smile, which she returned. “I will have my assistant lead you to our executive lounge so you can enjoy the amenities while Mr. Park and I catch up, and then we can speak about a potential partnership with you present, if that’s okay.”

She smiled at you, “Of course! Thank you Miss,” She waved before exiting along with Naiya and Jin, leaving just you and Jimin alone.

Suddenly the room became colder and the air heavier at the realization.

You went to sit on the opposite side of the table from where you were previously standing , aiming to place as much space between you and Jimin as possible.

“Sit.” You gestured to the chair across from you, making a point not to make eye contact.

“Someone’s a little bossy,” He said with a smug smile as he took his seat. “It suits you.”

You scoffed, clasping your hands together and resisting the urge to clench them out of irritation and anxiousness. “Cut the shit, Jimin. Why are you here?”

He raised a brow out of amusement and feigned offense. “I’m here for a contract.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicion in your tone as you spoke. “See, I don’t think you need money that bad, Jimin. I’ve read the tabloids, seen the magazines. You’re successful and we haven’t spoken in years, so why not just keep the bridge burned?”

He smirked, “Someone’s been doing research on me, I see,”

Your glare was icy, your nonchalance being the cherry on top. “Trust me when I say that I wish I never heard of you at all.”

You didn’t see his minuscule flinch at your words, or how he actually used the excuse of loosening his tie to hide himself wiping away the clamminess of his hands.

The look in his eyes was different.

“Oh, poor thing, did I ruin sex for you with any other man? Is that why you hate me so much? I know it’s been some years, but I wouldn’t mind going again if it meant you’d take out the stick that’s far up your ass,” He fake-pitied you, taking out a piece of gum and popping it into his mouth.

You scoffed, mouth open wide in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Not in the slightest,” He winked. He took out another piece of gum and offered it to you, “Want one?”

“No, I don’t want your damn gum! Matter of fact, I don’t want anything from you. You can get the fuck out,” You stood up from your chair, making your way towards the door to escort him out.

He gently caught your arm before you got too far away, standing up himself and pulling you towards him.

The proximity between the two of you was close enough to feel his breath ghosting across your face.

Jimin’s voice was little above a whisper, tongue darting out to lick his lips before he spoke. “You can kick me out, but my business isn’t the one on the verge of collapse, doll. It may be a secret to everyone else, but I know you need this deal. I called myself doing you a favor, and you seem pretty ungrateful, hmm?”

Your breath hitched, as if the wind had been knocked out of you and you were struggling to come back down to earth. “I don’t need your charity,” you squeaked.

He provocatively tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a jolt of electricity you were fighting against because of the gesture.

“My charity, no, but the money you’ll get from my involvement, you do need that. Deny it all you want,” He said as he pulled away from you, flicking his suit jacket and smirking. “Your choice to drown or not.”

He walked away from you, heading towards the door to let himself out. He placed his hand on the hardware, fully ready to pull and rid himself of you if you declined his offer.

But to both your surprise, you gave in. Again.

“Wait,” You called out to him in a shaky, almost panicked voice, one that you hated to let anyone else hear. You felt too vulnerable, too fragile in this state, but if you wanted to be successful, sometimes you had to face things you didn’t like; even when said thing was the reason you questioned your self worth in the first place.

You turned around to face him, breath heavy and eyes downcast in shame that you needed him, needed the opportunity or everything you’d worked for could crash and burn in a matter of months.

You stood there frozen in place, fiddling with your thumbs and suddenly feeling powerless. He didn’t smile when he saw your unsteady hands. He didn't have an egotistical expression for once, and somehow that made you feel even worse. You didn’t want to be looked at with pity or seen as a failure, and that’s all that you radiated. And it was worse that Jimin could see it, too. “Will you stay?”

Jimin almost flinched at your small voice, something he didn’t experience often, and his gaze softened while directed at the ground. You were strong and he knew that, but your question threw him off, and upon seeing how what he said affected you, he questioned if he’d gone too far. He cleared his throat and his voice sounded strained,“ I’ll let Minji know to come back. I’ll stay.”

But he couldn’t look at you like this.

Not when it was because of him. Again.

“I believe that’s all we have to discuss; is that correct, Boss?” Naiya eyed you for approval, Jin having already gone over the contract with everyone in the room. All parties were in agreement of the $2million dollar arrangement for a contract of six months. It made sense, as much as you hated it—Jimin being onboard was bound to bring in tons of revenue and you’d be able to stay afloat, as expensive as your products were to make and maintain. He was doing you a favor and although you appreciated that your biggest problem was sorted out, you weren’t looking forward to the fact that there was almost certainly a catch. Why else would he come all this way, after leaving a bad taste in your mouth and not seeing you in years?

“That should be all,” You smiled, but it didn’t meet your eyes.

“Perfect!” Minji exclaimed, excited to be apart of the deal that occurred. She stood abruptly, eager to shake your hand and congratulate you and Jimin. “Congratulations and thank you for the opportunity,”

“Of course,” the upward turn of your lips was genuine this time, having been in the same position as her not that long ago.

Everyone stood and began to file out of the board room as the evening came to an end, but you noticed that Jimin was slower to wrap up the meeting. He dragged, as if he had more to say to you, as if he didn’t want to leave. And your heart couldn’t take that. Not again.

He buttoned his suit jacket before grabbing his folder filled with a copy of the contract and legal paperwork off of the table. He turned to see if everyone else left and you glanced at the doorway, seeing his assistant waiting patiently, as if adorning his features, eyes widening when she noticed he caught her staring.

He smirked but you knew it was an arrogant one, one that someone like her didn’t deserve. She deserved a heartfelt smile, a gentle gesture. You could tell she was sweet and by the way she lovingly took in his features, you knew there were feelings there. It almost didn’t hurt—you wanted to root for her. You wanted to coach him on how to finally treat someone right, show him that it was the same way that he should’ve treated you. But that time was gone now and while you recognized she harbored feelings, a pang of jealousy hit the pit of your stomach, twisting it in an uncomfortable knot. So, you stared — it was a distracted, almost blank gaze, but your eyes always did say more about what you were feeling than you did. Anyone from afar could tell that your gaze held a mix of emotion, from heartbreak and dejection to longing for what could’ve been and regret at the decisions you’ve made.

And you’d said to yourself a long time ago that you’d do the best you could at leaving the past in the past, but now it was coming back to haunt you in more ways than one.

He spoke to her in a passive voice, “There should be a car waiting for you outside of the lobby. I’ll meet you at the restaurant,”

She nodded, smiling glumly, and you could see the subtle hurt in her eyes. And then she glanced at you before disappearing from view, and it all made sense.

She fell too, didn’t she?

Your eyes were cast downward as you wiped your hands on your slacks, a lump forming in your throat that was hard to swallow.

You grabbed your things and planned to make a beeline out the door, planned to not spare Jimin another glance, but he was too quick. He knew you too well, and not well enough all at the same time.

“Wait,” he breathed, slightly unsteadily, almost as if he was surprised that you were moving so fast.

“For what, Jimin?” You turned to face him, eyes narrowed as they locked with his brown ones. “What could I possibly be waiting for? Because it’s not for you,”

“I thought we might’ve had more to talk about here, honestly,” his hand came up to run through his hair, something he usually did when nervous. But then again, he did that when experiencing every emotion possible, from what you remember.

“We could’ve had more to talk about 2 years ago, but you made it clear that we didn’t. Now there’s nothing for us except both of our ends of the deal.”

He chuckled dryly, licking his lips before responding. “It’s like that? After all this time?”

“You made it like that,” You said venomously through gritted teeth, getting dangerously close to him. You could smell his woodsy cologne, the same scent that you had to drive out of your mind, hoping to never smell it again because of what it’d remind you of. You took a few steps away from him, turning your back to him once again. “You made your bed, Jimin. And I can’t help you lay in it.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said, just above a whisper. You could hear the clench in his jaw, the anger that was only the tip of the iceberg.

And so you walked, not looking back, only stopping once to leave your mark and nothing more. “Piece of advice, Park: actions have consequences, and genuine favors don’t have hidden intentions. Don’t fuck up with her, too.”

You walked into the door of your condo, exhaustedly closing the door and dropping your keys on the marble countertop. Your small hands rested on the stone as your head hung low, the events of the day weighing heavily on you.

You shoulders began to shake as the mental load consumed you. The beginning of your tears stung, your lip quivering as the rain poured from your eyes.

You slid to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. You sobbed harshly, occasionally gritting your teeth when the pain felt overwhelming.

You hadn’t let this out in a long, long time. You felt safe enough, protected enough from that hurt you felt those years ago. You were certain your paths wouldn’t cross again since he went back to being on the other side of the world, but here you were, falling apart and breaking to pieces after looking into those eyes once again.

It winded you, seeing the way she looked at him. You thought it would’ve been you, running away into the sunset and basking in a love-filled haze where it would just be you two in the world. But you were wrong. So wrong, in fact, that even Jimin’s name left a bitter taste in your mouth. Something once so familiar left a broken heart-shaped bruise that you weren’t sure how to heal.

And in your absence of clarity and surety, you made the decision of reaching out to the person who made you get butterflies in your tummy instead of hornets stinging your insides.

you [7:37pm]: come over?

You waited about fifteen minutes, not knowing if he would respond. It was almost agonizing; the potential rendezvous wasn’t planned, after all. You couldn’t expect him to come running, not when you haven’t even been knowing each other that long, could you?

But then your phone made a familiar sound, and little bubbles formed in your stomach from excitement and anxiety, not knowing what the response would be from the other end of the line.

You picked up your phone slowly, wiping away a few tears so you could read the message clearly.

jungkook [7:52pm]: already ahead of you

You heard the buzz coming from the intercom seconds later, hurriedly standing up to answer it. You were afraid of how you would look to him, not having enough time to even change out of your work attire, having just sobbed your heart out — but as you answered the door, the look in Jungkook’s eyes told you that you didn’t need to be concerned with that. You were more than looks to him.

He set everything down on the floor — you took note of a bouquet of flowers, and a plastic Walgreens bag filled with things — and he cupped your face in his hands, staring at you with the gentlest of gazes. He could tell you were beyond hurt right now, that your heart was aching, and he didn’t bother to ask why — only what it was that you needed.

“How can I help?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and gently caressed your cheek, wiping it free of the stray tear that was rolling down.

His question was so simple, so genuine in nature that it made you tear up more, almost to the point of not being able to answer him.

“Just make me forget,” you whispered, eyes darting across his face, taking in his furrowed brows, his worried eyes, teeth toying with his lip ring.

And so he wrapped your arms around his neck and pat the back of your thigh to signal you to jump, catching you before shutting the door with his foot.

He walked you both to your bedroom, your head resting on his shoulder as he carried you like you were a fragile piece of glass he didn’t want to risk breaking.

He delicately laid you down, once again tucking that same strand behind your ear after it fell out of place.

You felt safe as he hovered over you, his eyes gingerly taking in your features, appreciating you and tugging on your heart strings all the while.

“I’m here,” he whispered before his lips met yours in a soft attempt to comfort you and drown all of your negative thoughts.

But then that other pair of eyes popped into your mind, a harsh reminder of a painful reality; you clenched on Jungkook’s shirt in response, kissing him harder, trying to push away the thoughts of the man who broke you, that you never seemed to fully get over.

And you repeated the action until you needed to gasp for air, breathing heavily as the lines blurred and the tears of trying to forget started to come. And he held you through it, kissing you all the while.

I’m not yours anymore.

note: i hope you guys enjoyed this!! i love the angst in this so much,, i got so excited for where this story is going after i wrote it lol.

please like, comment & reblog — the feedback is greatly appreciated !! ♡

if you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so here!

more coming soon ♡

© 2024 cherryxkush, all rights reserved.

[junoriggs]

What if everything I used to believe in was all for nothing?

►GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Juniper Sloane Riggs NICKNAME(S): Juno LABEL: The Advocate AGE: 32 DATE OF BIRTH: December 13, 1991 ZODIAC: Sagittarius Sun, Virgo Rising, Leo Moon GENDER & PRONOUNS: Female; She/Her HERITAGE: English, Scottish, Welsh, German, Irish SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): English OCCUPATION: Lawyer & Singer/Songwriter SEXUALITY & ROMANCE: Bisexual; Biromantic PET(S): Australian Shepherd named Blue

► APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Aly Michalka HEIGHT: 5'8" WEIGHT: 125 lbs. DOMINANT HAND: Right HAIR COLOR: Brunette (Dyed Auburn) EYE COLOR: Brown SCARS: None notable. TATTOOS: None.

►PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS: Adroit, Compassionate, Adventurous, Loyal, Athletic NEGATIVE TRAITS: Stubborn, Flighty, Confrontational, Dogmatic, Rebellious LIKES: Helping others, saying 'no' to her parents, early morning workouts, walks along the shore, animals, winning a debate DISLIKES: Mansplaining, when people question her credentials

►MENTALITY

PHOBIAS: None. DISORDERS: Not diagnosed. ALLERGIES: None.

►BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Anchorage, AK CURRENT RESIDENCE: Anchorage, AK { Rabbit Creek } EDUCATION LEVEL: JD at Harvard Law FAMILIAL CONNECTIONS: -Mikayla Riggs - 57, Mother -Mark Riggs - 61, Father

►FAVORITES

FOOD: Trashcan Pizza DRINK: Carmel Macchiato MOVIE: How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Silence of the Lambs TV SHOW: 911, Fire Country, Bob's Burgers BAND/ARTIST: The 1975, The Beatles, ABBA, Coldplay SONG: Ignorance is Bliss - Katelyn Tarver

► EXTRA INFORMATION

JUNG TYPE: ESFJ ENNEAGRAM: The Nonconformist (8w7) TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful Good SIN: Pride VIRTUE: Charity ELEMENT: Air CHARACTER PLAYLIST

What if I'm too late? What if I'm lost? What if I find out I'm doing it wrong? I could wonder forever, I think I would feel better If I knew it all

► BIOGRAPHY

TW; N/A

Juniper was born into high society here in Anchorage. Thanks to her parents who were sharks in the attorney vein; helping the higher-end businessmen win over the little guys. It wasn’t something she understood at such a young age, but what she did know was: Keep your voice low but your head held high. She grew up in a household of competition. Not only between her parents with their respective careers, but also between her older brother, younger brother, and herself in the ways of academics and sports. No one would ever want to be around the family on Friday night game nights. And honestly, Juno couldn’t really blame her friends for that. Thinking back, she wonders often if this is where her need to speak up for herself came from. Each Riggs sibling was the top of their grade. Juniper found that the more she was in school and learning about the world, the more she felt alienated in high society life. She started to not attend galas and she started to let her hair down and throw caution to the wind when she hit her middle school and high school years. Though her beliefs changed, she still held education to a high degree of importance and never slacked in that field of her life. Rebelling against her parents was not what anyone was expecting from her, let alone her choice in career. Though, the lawyer aspect was a given (all Riggs siblings turned out to be lawyers), they never expected her to go against businesses and corporations and stand with the individuals who genuinely were being fucked over. Juno attended Harvard Law, and graduated with high honors. She went on to debate and go up against her own family in court through her career. Sometimes there were draws, other times she rung them dry. Recently, Juno came back to Anchorage in order to figure out if she wants to continue being a lawyer, or abandon the life chosen for her to pursue singing and songwriting full time.

► PERSONALITY (DEEP DIVE)

Juno is a force to be reckoned with. Sharp as a whip, she tends to cut deep with her words and is highly aware of it. Basically, just don't debate her, okay? On the other hand, she's loving and full of life. She loves to strum at her guitar and come up with music - especially if she's feeling quite overwhelmed with emotions. She's also one who contemplates the universe and life at a deeper level. She plays minor gigs here and there, but she genuinely believes she has potential to make it big. Juno is a free-spirited type of character, and one can find her at karaoke nights as well as on the tops of tables at the local bar. She's very minimalist. If one were to go into her residence, there would only really be a ton of books and some photographs. She's basically not materialistic. She's very giving and whenever there's charity work in town, she's always a part of it or running the show. She's bubbly, and comedic at times. Juno is prone to fighting for others, and it shows in her day to day life. Overall, she's definitely someone you want in your corner.

[juniperriggs]

What if everything I used to believe in was all for nothing?

►GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Juniper Sloane Riggs NICKNAME(S): Juno LABEL: The Advocate AGE: 32 DATE OF BIRTH: December 13, 1991 ZODIAC: Sagittarius Sun, Virgo Rising, Leo Moon GENDER & PRONOUNS: Female; She/Her HERITAGE: English, Scottish, Welsh, German, Irish SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): English OCCUPATION: Lawyer & Singer/Songwriter SEXUALITY & ROMANCE: Bisexual; Biromantic PET(S): Australian Shepherd named Blue

► APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Aly Michalka HEIGHT: 5'8" WEIGHT: 125 lbs. DOMINANT HAND: Right HAIR COLOR: Brunette (Dyed Auburn) EYE COLOR: Brown SCARS: None notable. TATTOOS: None.

►PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS: Adroit, Compassionate, Adventurous, Loyal, Athletic NEGATIVE TRAITS: Stubborn, Flighty, Confrontational, Dogmatic, Rebellious LIKES: Helping others, saying 'no' to her parents, early morning workouts, walks along the shore, animals, winning a debate DISLIKES: Mansplaining, when people question her credentials

►MENTALITY

PHOBIAS: None. DISORDERS: Not diagnosed. ALLERGIES: None.

►BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Merrock, ME CURRENT RESIDENCE: Merrock, ME EDUCATION LEVEL: JD at Harvard Law FAMILIAL CONNECTIONS: - Mikayla Riggs - 57, Mother - Mark Riggs - 61, Father

►FAVORITES

FOOD: Trashcan Pizza DRINK: Carmel Macchiato MOVIE: How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Silence of the Lambs TV SHOW: 911, Fire Country, Bob's Burgers BAND/ARTIST: The 1975, The Beatles, ABBA, Coldplay SONG: Ignorance is Bliss - Katelyn Tarver

► EXTRA INFORMATION

JUNG TYPE: ESFJ ENNEAGRAM: The Nonconformist (8w7) TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful Good SIN: Pride VIRTUE: Charity ELEMENT: Air CHARACTER PLAYLIST

What if I'm too late? What if I'm lost? What if I find out I'm doing it wrong? I could wonder forever, I think I would feel better If I knew it all

► BIOGRAPHY

TW; N/A

Juniper was born into high society, here at Merrock. Thanks to her parents who were sharks in the attorney vein; helping the higher-end businessmen win over the little guys. It wasn't something she understood at such a young age, but what she did know was: Keep your voice low but your head held high. She grew up in a household of competition. Not only between her parents with their respective careers, but also between her older brother, younger brother, and herself in the ways of academics and sports. No one would ever want to be around the family on Friday night game nights. And honestly, Juno couldn't really blame her friends for that. Thinking back, she wonders often if this is where her need to speak up for herself came from. Each Riggs sibling was the top of their grade. Juniper found that the more she was in school and learning about the world, the more she felt alienated in high society life. She started to not attend galas and she started to let her hair down and throw caution to the wind when she hit her middle school and high school years. Though her beliefs changed, she still held education to a high degree of importance and never slacked in that field of her life. Rebelling against her parents was not what anyone was expecting from her, let alone her choice in career. Though, the lawyer aspect was a given (all Riggs siblings turned out to be lawyers), they never expected her to go against businesses and corporations and stand with the individuals who genuinely were being fucked over. Juno attended Harvard Law, and graduated with high honors. She went on to debate and go up against her own family in court through her career. Sometimes there were draws, other times she rung them dry. Recently, Juno came back to Merrock in order to figure out if she wants to continue being a lawyer, or abandon the life chosen for her to pursue singing and songwriting.

► PERSONALITY (DEEP DIVE)

Juno is a force to be reckoned with. Sharp as a whip, she tends to cut deep with her words and is highly aware of it. Basically, just don't debate her, okay? On the other hand, she's loving and full of life. She loves to strum at her guitar and come up with music - especially if she's feeling quite overwhelmed with emotions. She's also one who contemplates the universe and life at a deeper level. She plays minor gigs here and there, but she genuinely believes she has potential to make it big. Juno is a free-spirited type of character, and one can find her at karaoke nights as well as on the tops of tables at the local bar. She's very minimalist. If one were to go into her residence, there would only really be a ton of books and some photographs. She's basically not materialistic. She's very giving and whenever there's charity work in town, she's always a part of it or running the show. She's bubbly, and comedic at times. Juno is prone to fighting for others, and it shows in her day to day life. Overall, she's definitely someone you want in your corner.