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pennyellee · 8 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

title: champagne confetti pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 release date: 24.1.2024 23:00/11 PM CEST - 17:00/5 PM EDT

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem and m receiving), spanking, implied cum swallowing, creampie, soft yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so, ehm, this story got way outta my hands, it was supposed to be a goddamn rom-com with enemies to lovers trope - i wanted to build around the character trope of Rachel Green from Friends because she is my favourite character of all times, what i wanted to build around was how Rachel was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went in a different direction. Nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this fic and i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much. See you on the 24th chummers, love you! 🩵

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink?—” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you couldn't help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—”

read here

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy - @mylyus-blog - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim

ps: lemme know if you want to be additionally tagged! 🩵

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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thehanalia · 3 months

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THE SUBTLE ART OF BECOMING FINANCIALLY FREE IN 2024 💸 🎀 ྀིྀི

Hey girlies, Hanalia is back, ready to dive into some real talk about achieving financial freedom. No fluff, just hardcore truths to help you grow and secure your future like the badass queens you are.

1. Know Your Worth: Ladies, let's talk real. Your value isn't about how many likes you get or what brand you wear. It's about your talents, your skills, and your drive to succeed. Invest in yourself—learn, grow, and never underestimate what you bring to the table.

˖⁺‧₊ It's not just about earning money; it's about how you invest it. Our aim is growth, and often, you need income to invest in yourself. ˖⁺‧₊

2. Budget Like a Boss: Financial freedom starts with knowing where your money goes, okay. Time to get real with those finances. Budgeting isn't about restrictions; it's about empowerment. I used to think it was all about penny-pinching, but it's really about knowing where every dollar goes and making intentional choices.

3. Crush Debt: Debt can feel overwhelming, trust me, I've been there. But facing it head-on is how you break free. Start with the high-interest stuff, make a plan, and stick to it like your future depends on it—because it does.

˖⁺‧₊ Debt can feel like quicksand, but you're no damsel in distress. The sooner you free yourself from debt, the sooner you'll have more money to build your empire.˖⁺‧₊

4. Invest Wisely: Investing isn't just for the rich. Start small, educate yourself, and build your portfolio. I've learned that the sooner you start, the more your money can grow over time. It's about making your money work for you, not the other way around.

˖⁺‧₊ PS. Forget the lottery mentality. Real wealth is built through smart investing. Educate yourself on stocks, bonds, real estate—whatever piques your interest. Start small, diversify, and let your money work for you.˖⁺‧₊

5. Build Multiple Streams of Income: Oh my osh! I cannot stress enough the importance of this! Your 9-to-5 isn't your only option. I've hustled with side gigs, freelancing—you name it. Multiple streams of income give you security and freedom. Don't limit yourself—explore what lights you up and brings in the cash.

6. Protect Yourself: Life's unpredictable, but you can be prepared. Having health insurance and an emergency fund can be lifesavers. It's about peace of mind and knowing you're covered, no matter what.

˖⁺‧₊ Get health insurance, build an emergency fund, and consider long-term savings like retirement plans.˖⁺‧₊

7. Own Your Future: Financial freedom isn't an end goal; it's a mindset. It's about having choices and the power to live life on your terms. Stay focused, stay disciplined, and never settle for less than you deserve.

Your money is your shield. Make it stronger, fairly. I completely understand that nowadays there are countless ways to earn income, but always choose the ones that align with your values.

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Last but not least, at the end of your journey of becoming that girl awaits the future who is The Girl!

Stay safe and stay hot...

With Love, Hanalia

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jenosbliss · 4 months

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pairing. gn!reader x jeno | genre. fluff | wc. 0.4k | warnings. reader goes through a breakdown, academic stress

The hallway window leading to your bedroom reflected a blurred image of yours. Even though the image appeared bleary, the slump of your shoulders, the dark circles under your eyes, and the wild mess of hair escaping your usual bun spoke volumes of your exhaustion.

With a heavy sigh, you shuffled towards your room, this wasn’t new. Semester end had always been exhausting, the relentless cycle of assignments, deadlines, and exams was draining. You just probably needed a good cry and sleep to prepare yourself for tomorrow’s struggles and stress.

Entering the room, you were greeted with a “Hii baby” from your boyfriend sitting on the shared bed. Jeno’s eyes formed small moons as a sweet smile played on his lips which faded the moment he saw your weary state.

“What’s wrong, Y/n?” His smile gave way to concern. “So much… I’m tired,” you said, dropping your bag near the desk. “Come here, love". You turned around to see his arms wide open.

Tiredly you walked toward him, sitting next to him as he wrapped his arms around you, soothingly patting your back. "What's troubling you?" he asked, as you shifted closer to him, hugging him back.

Jeno could probably never understand how much you needed this hug right now, he felt like home, and the warmth from this hug made all your worries disappear for the time being. You didn't want to come out of his embrace wishing to stay here forever as if he'd protect you from everything and everyone.

Tears filled your eyes; the day was exhausting enough and now this closeness overwhelmed you. Noticing your distress, Jeno tenderly held your face, his gaze filled with concern.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you admitted, leaning into his touch. “Each day feels harder…” Your voice faltered, tears streaming down. Jeno knowing not to interrupt just leaned in and kissed away your tears, a hand rubbing the back of your head slowly.

“As if all this end sem and exam stress wasn’t enough, my English professor misplaced my portfolio and is asking me to submit it again.” you sobbed, gripping his sweatshirt. “It’s not even my fault! She knows I submitted it, but somehow it vanished… I spend hours searching it everywhere but…”

Jeno gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb wiping the tears off your cheeks. It hurt him to see you so broken, he knew it was temporary academic stress and everything would be fine after a week but right now he couldn’t do anything except watch you cry while sitting there helpless wiping your tears.

“I’m not even getting proper sleep, my head hurts all the time, I feel dizzy, and it feels like no one gets it., I hate it… I just want to give up.” Your shoulders slumped as your head fell on his shoulders. Your cries turn into muffles. Both of you stayed like for a few minutes, while you cried on his shoulder, he just rubbed your back calmly.

“Y/n, baby hear me out.” Reluctantly you moved your head and looked up at his direction. “How about we look for your portfolio together on Monday? I’m sure it must be somewhere in her cabin and if not, I’ll help you write it.” He smiled raising his eyebrows. “But our handw-” placing a finger on your lips he continued “Don’t worry I’ve got that covered.” he teased, bringing a smile to your face.

He felt a little peace seeing your smile “And I’m turning off all the alarms for tomorrow. No getting up at 4 and studying, okay?” You were about to protest but he just continued “Nope, no excuses. Sleep in till you wake up fully fresh. You need rest baby also I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow so no getting up early.”

“Fine… but I want waffles.” Knowing that you couldn’t win against him and that what he said was correct you gave in. Smiling he pressed a lasting kiss on your forehead mumbling “I love you” before kissing you on the lips. “Love you too.”

The stress of academia was nothing new, breakdowns like these were frequent for you, crying yourself to sleep and preparing yourself to survive another day was like an everyday story until now.

What changed now was that you can lean on someone while you cried, someone to rub your back, someone to hold, someone to share your problems, someone who maybe doesn’t relate but understands you, someone to make sure that you sleep peacefully before going to bed himself, someone who’s just not someone, but Jeno.

a/n. had this idea two weeks ago when i went through a similar situation but didn’t have someone like jeno :’)

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masterlist. dream | 127 | wayv

#nct dream #nct dream fluff #jeno #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct #nct fics #nct imagines #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #nct jeno #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #comfort #m: jeno #jeno lee

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sunlightmurdock · 10 months

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Operation Apollo | 2.8 | Jake Seresin x Reader (18+)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warning: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, manipulation, sucky parents, grief and manipulation, lying, distressing themes throughout but especially towards the end of the chapter. Graphic violence, dangerous situations, revenge, wc: 3.5k

For as long as you can remember, you had known that your father was going to be president. It was always discussed as a given. It was the coup de grace; he had been working towards it much longer than you had even been alive.

Those fourteen hour work days, and sleepless nights. The hard decisions and the time away from his family. All along, Matthew had sworn that it would be worth it. It would, one day, be enough.

Then, the first set of polls came in after those primary debates the summer before his first election run and with it, intel that Matthew plunged a sixth of his savings in to. Politics and bribery go hand in hand across most of the world; this wasn’t even the first step off of the beaten path.

The intel was clear as day; It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough. All of that time, and work, and desperation that he poured into his career, it wasn’t going to be enough to win him the presidency. The guarantee was next to nil.

But there was still time.

He remembers one evening, in particular, sitting with his advisors in his home office, and just sobbing. Every birthday he had missed, every milestone — it was all going to be for nothing.

“Look, Matt,” Arnie had said, stubbing his thin rolled cigarette out into a crystal ashtray and sitting back in the leather arm chair, sinking into it like the lazy waste of space that he was. He was a good friend of the family back then. “There’s still time. We’ve got options, buddy. Plenty of ‘em.”

Matthew had rolled his neck back slowly — he still remembers the stress-induced stiffness those days had caused him — and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, Arnie? — And what options are those?” It was a biting remark, untrusting and downright hateful by that point. Arnie had promised many things already, and rarely had delivered. On the times that Matthew thinks back to his twenty year friendship with Arnold Paulson, he finds himself glad that that asshole now resides six feet under.

The older guy had just shrugged, letting that snide little smile creep across his face. “I know a guy. I think he might be able to, uh… help you out. For a fee, if you get where I’m coming from.”

Ellis Armstrong. After three days, and more phone calls than you care to remember, you have a name. He’s a business-man, and a rather successful one at that. Works in corporate development — he’s not hidden from the public eye like you would expect a guy like this to be.

No, he’s got thirteen offices spanning three continents and a portfolio that would put the Forbes list to shame. Once upon a time, he had been a friend of the family. It’s easy to piece together the headshot of him sitting at the wide, mahogany desk in his new office and the fuzzy memories of the tall man in your father’s office late at night.

You remember him distinctly. The sound your bare feet had made, tiptoeing down that long, curving staircase in the old house. Far past your bedtime, your princess nightgown grazing your ankles. The halls dark, illuminated by lights pouring out from under doors. The house was never really empty back then. Pushing open the heavy pocket doors that separated your father’s office from the parlour.

The gaunt, tall blond man sitting in the armchair. His sunken eyes that had seemed so dark in the dimly lit room. His thin lips and hollow cheeks. The long, straight nose and the deep lines between his brows. Skeletal and still, he had looked like a monster. Something that belongs in the dark, lurking in wait.

“What are you doing up, princess?” Matthew had scooped you off of your feet and suddenly you were looking at him instead, in all of the warmth and glory and familiarity of a man adored by his little girl.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You remember, but it’s hazy now. You don’t remember the softer, higher pitch of your voice or really what had made the man in the chair quite so scary looking, or what had driven you out of the safety of your bed that night.

There’s a fondness to his smile in those hazy memories, a softness to his touch that feels so far away now. The stars and unicorns on your bedsheets, and the stuffie he had tucked under your chin. The safety of your childhood bedroom, with the warm pink glow of your nightlight and the embrace of your stuffed animal. How far away the fear of that man in the chair had felt once your father had kissed the top of your head and closed your door.

It doesn’t just feel far away, it is far away — everything about it. Your parents no longer own that house, you’ve long outgrown that bed and that stuffed animal ended up in the donate pile after one of your big moves. You’re no longer hiding from the scary man sitting in the armchair; you’re looking for him.

“I don’t understand,” You do, but showing your cards has never been part of your strategy. The woman opposite you forces her creasing mouth into a deeper frown as she pulls her coffee cup protectively closer. “Tell me, exactly, what you remember about your time working for my father.”

If Allen knew where you were, he would skin you alive. If Manny knew, he would be right here with you. If Jake knew, you wouldn’t be here at all. He would have locked you in a hallway closet before he let you set something like this up.

The woman sitting opposite you is a timid little redhead with big brown eyes and a disposition that brings new clarity to the term ‘afraid of her own shadow’. She’s jumpy, and looking over her shoulder constantly. You, are considerably cooler for a person more alone than they have been in more than a decade.

Her name is Ida — she was your father’s personal assistant the year before his first election, and it cost you to even get her to this cafe in Pasadena. You remember the long skirts and the narrow glasses, but you don’t remember Ida being quite so… afraid.

“He wasn’t— he isn’t a bad man, darling. That’s what you have to understand, it’s just that—“

“Ida, slow down.” You bite, growing tired of this. You don’t have long before someone notices that you’re gone, if they haven’t already. The sky outside is grey, and sullen, the cafe is almost empty for now but the lunch rush is approaching. “This isn’t about whether he’s a good guy or not. Tell me where Ellis Armstrong comes into this.”

Sitting opposite you, the mouse-like woman’s eyes turn wide like saucers as she shrinks down further into her seat, wringing her hands into the checked fabric of her skirt.

“He wasn’t going to win the election by himself. There was intel out there that… painted him in a bad light.”

“Details, Ida.” You click the pen and stare across at her impatiently. She swallows softly and checks around her again.

“Your father had an affair. It was all going to come out — it would have tanked any kind of campaign he could have put together, and you remember what times were like then… the kind of money it would have taken to make that go away…” The coffee mug in front of her scalds her trembling hands as she finally lifts her chin enough for you to look her in the eye. Raindrops start to beat into the sidewalk outside. A silence sets across the coffee shop as the soft indie playlist stops between tracks.

If you were still little, padding barefoot along the hall in your princess nightdress, this would have hurt so badly. The warm smile and his gentle disposition — and he was already betraying you, even then. You’re not little now. It doesn’t hurt like it would have then. You scrawl messily across the page.

“What was her name, who did she work for?”

Ida pauses briefly, blinking. Truthfully, she hadn’t been expecting this calculated coldness from you. She’s seen the videos of the frightened girl clinging to her bodyguard. She wonders how far he might be from you today.

“Suzy Blake. She was a political analyst for the New York Times back then.” Ida tells you, turning her head and checking through the rain-dotted front windows of the shop. You scribe the information and look back up to her, unsatisfied.

“All I’ve got on this is your word?” You prompt her.

“And her daughter — Matt never took a paternity test, but Suzy was always so sure.” This, Ida can see it worm its way under your skin, writhing under those years of collected conditioning. She blinks across at you and taps her nails against the coffee cup, glancing down at the milky liquid.

You have never heard of Suzy; couldn’t even begin to picture what she looks like. Her daughter would be nine, at least, maybe older. She could look like you, maybe. You press your lips together and grind the tip of the pen into the lined page, threatening to leave indentations of your anger through the rest of the book at once.

“So, Ellis paid for her to disappear?” You confirm, looking back up at Ida with an iciness that gives her a glimpse of her former boss.

“Ellis paid for a lot of things.” Ida answers you suddenly faster than she has in the entire hour that you’ve been sitting here. She doesn’t look at you as she says it, lifting the mug from the saucer and taking a long drink of her latte. The liquid shivers in the cup, disturbed by her trembling fingers.

“Ida.” You sigh, growing frustrated. She turns her head and looks towards the window again, craning her neck slightly. Frightened of her own shadow, you condemn her cowardice. “Details.”

Her eyes follow two raindrops as the grey droplets race along the windowpane. “He bought the presidency for your father.”

Your father is a proud man. He has told you the story plenty of times, of how your grandfather had tried to give your parents the down payment for a house, how your father chose to spend his first year of marriage in a studio apartment rather than taking it. Back then, you wouldn’t have believed he could do such a thing.

Now, you aren’t sure where to draw the line on where your beliefs lie.

“Extra campaign funding, promotions, big names,” Ida’s cup jingles as she sets it rockily back down onto the saucer. She turns her head back to the table, but avoids your gaze nonetheless. “Votes. Ellis made it all happen. He saved your father’s career.”

Your gaze flicks up from the scrawled information on the page, and lands on her hands. She picks restlessly at her cuticles, her attention shifting to every corner of the room but you. Your brows draw together seriously, taking a moment to check the empty space around you before you focus on her.

“And what did my father do to him?”

Such a clever little girl — that’s what Ida remembers most of you. So inquisitive, and engaged. So interested. It’s such a shame that no one had time for you, you really deserved someone who would have answered those wonderful questions you came up with.

She swallows softly, unsure of exactly how much information is encompassed by the umbrella of ‘everything’. In her industry, you never let go of all of your secrets at once. That’s just bad business.

“He ran for re-election,” Ida says calmly, her voice more confident sounding, even in its soft tone. She exhales slowly. “And, after the successes in his first term, it became clear that he could win the presidency again. Without Mr. Armstrong.”

Across the table, you set the pen down on the edge of the notebook and check the time on your watch. You should be getting back before Allen has time to deploy a whole search party.

“Again, Ida… I’ve just got your word on this.” You remind her. A jaded assistant from nine years ago isn’t exactly the concrete evidence that you broke out of your house for. The fear in her eyes is all the proof you need, but that won’t stand up in court.

You’ve been thinking about that a lot recently, as your research has deepened into your father’s past. You came across a picture yesterday, where he was your age, and smiling in the foreground of a Greenpeace conference. It struck you to consider if that young man would hate the man he was going to become as much as you have grown too — if maybe the two of you would have gotten along once, if things were different.

If you would be able to stand up in court and send the smiling young man, with the purest of intentions, to prison.

“You’re right,” She starts to shake her head and her chair scrapes across the floor. The loudest sound that has come from her all day. She twists in her seat and grabs her jacket and her bag from the back of her chair. “You’re right, I can’t prove this. This was a bad idea…”

Your eyes go wide as she scrambles for her things. “No, Ida, wait—“

She pauses, briefly, to look you in the eye. “I’m sorry.” She turns swiftly, and heads for the door, dinging the bell above it and slipping out into the sheets of grey rain outside the door. You slam your notebook shut and fumble to slip it into your back, all thumbs and no fingers, stuck in the struggle as she disappears from the view of the front window.

“Shit…” You mutter, slinging the bag onto your shoulder, forgetting your coat completely as you head after her. She’s much faster than she is loud. Rain chills your cheeks and dampens your hair before the bell above the door is even done ringing. Your shoes slap against the pavement, splashing fresh rainwater onto your jeans. You round the corner and squint through the grey ahead of you in search of her.

Her plaid skirt dips behind a car up ahead as she crosses to the driver’s side.

“Ida! Wait!” You call out for her, securing a hand around your bag as you jog to keep up, rushing for the blue sedan as she ducks into it. It doesn’t take you long, her hands are shaking too much to get the keys into the ignition. You slow, but don’t make it to a complete stop, reaching out to knock hard against the passenger window, as something cold, sharp-edged and hard slams into your right eye socket.

Your elbow hits the ground first, then your knee, then your left temple, before your body collapses to the wet pavement all together. Thrown off balance and reeling, your years of conditioning haven’t ever prepared you for this. Your skull aches, throbbing like you’re being hit with that first impact over and over, before you even feel the fingers curling around your arms and hoisting you off of the ground.

The car door clicks open. Blood rushes to the right side of your face, swelling in circles to form the deep bruise that will be left behind. Slow, blinking, your eyes drag themselves open and blink as you realize that it wasn’t the door of the car that opened. A second impact comes, but this one isn’t stone — it’s all skin. You can feel the warmth of the hand, and the ridges of each knuckle, as it drives forwards into your face.

After that, you can only imagine how easy you make for them to get you in that trunk. It hurts too much to open your eyes. Maybe that’s a pathetic thing to think, as you start to think of what they’ll do to you next — what pain is yet to come. But, it’s dark anyway, and in here, at least you’re alone. Your phone is in the bag. Maybe that’s still on th pavement, or maybe it’s in the car. But it isn’t with you.

Each turn sends you forwards or back, your body rolling over the thinly carpeted trunk, slamming into the back of the seats or the metal of the hatch. You can feel your face swelling, the heat from it stings like a burn.

Jake’s going to be so angry with you, for doing this to yourself.

Maybe it’s just a short ride, or maybe you black out a little on the way, there’s no way of knowing for sure. But, when your eyes feel open, they’re trying to focus to the new bright light after ages of dark. When they’re closed, it doesn’t look much different.

It’s cold, and the echo of the voices around you tells you that the space you’re in is wide open and empty. A warehouse, most likely. The perfect spot for an execution.

You’re held up by a hand on each of your arms, and your feet drag, scrambling for leverage against the ground as they tug you forwards. There’s some fight left in you after all. If it lasts long enough for someone to figure out where you are, that’s another story. You should have told Manny. Or left a note. Something.

The country is going to put your father on a pedestal when he’s grieving the loss of his beloved daughter.

Abruptly, you’re thrown down into a chair and your arms are torn backwards, making you cry out. Rope. Heavy, and fraying, rough against your wrists as you’re bound to the metal backing of a wooden chair. Fingers dig abruptly into either side of your cheeks, pressing the flesh of your mouth into your teeth until you’ve got no choice but to open up in complaint.

The second that your lips part, something is forced between them. A dry rag. It’s tied tight at the back of your head, digging into your cheeks, muffling your sounds of struggle.

Muffled and restrained, there’s no way to defend yourself when another blow comes. It hits the centre of your face hard, another fist, this one harder than the first. Not pulling the punch in the slightest. Instantly, liquid streams from your nostrils and the taste of copper floods your tastebuds.

Your screw your eyes shut and force yourself to blink, you force your eyes to adjust. You refuse to surrender your last sense. Gradually, the room steadies and your vision focuses. It’s grey and industrial, illuminated by a singular lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. Empty, almost, bar a few storage crates, and a scary man sitting in front of you.

He smiles softly as your gaze settles on him and burns with rage.

“I know, I know,” Ellis offers with a small smile. He gives a small shake of his head. “This is none of your fault, darling. I know that. I’m sorry, really I am.”

You’re silent opposite him, your heartbeat thudding in your ears, sickened by the fact he has the satisfaction of watching you bleed. Turning your head slightly, you catch sight of the two men in your peripheral. Security, you guess, in case you do something.

This time, when you turn your head, you aren’t scared. The man in front of you is afraid of little, old you — so much so, that he needs backup.

“But Matt has a debt that I’m… not willing to forgive.” Ellis is wearing a green crewneck and black jeans, not like the suits in his pictures. This must be a casual kind of affair for him. His thin lips twitch, hinting at a smile as your gaze remains, unwavering, on him.

Saliva pools in your mouth, copper-tasting as your nose continues to stream with blood. It saturates the makeshift gag, spilling down your chin, your jaw aching and numb at the same time, pins and needles stinging through your hands as the restraints bruise your wrists.

“You understand, don’t you? — Smart girl like you, you get why we had to go after you, I mean.” Ellis sits opposite you with his long legs stretched in front of him, his palms braced on the cargo box that he is perched on. Maybe it’s because he’s closer now than he ever was before, or maybe it’s just because you aren’t a little girl anymore — but you look into those dark, hollow eyes and there’s not a fibre of your being that needs your father to rescue you from him.

“Fuck you.” You spit. It’s easy enough to pretend that the damp rag secured around your mouth doesn’t cut into the corners of your mouth when you speak. You’re stronger than that.

Ellis presses his lips together and sits forwards, his gaunt face leering closer to you as he twitches towards a smile. He lifts one of those bony, skeletal hands and reaches for his phone, angling it towards your bruised face. “Don’t worry, darlin’ — we’ll get you back to your boyfriend soon enough. Just smile for the camera.”

tags: @alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox@desert-fern @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter@shawnsblue@itsmytimetoodream

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doumadono · 1 year

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Inked by desire - Akaza x Reader

Warnings: smut w/o plot, modern au, tattoo artist!akaza, dirty talk, vaginal sex Synopsis: despite his professional demeanor, Akaza finds himself unable to resist the temptation and ends up taking you to the back room of his tattoo shop where he passionately claims you as his own

MASTERLIST

As you scroll through the numerous tattoo shops online, you come across one with glowing reviews and a stunning portfolio of intricate designs. The name of the tattoo artist is Akaza, and you're immediately drawn to the intricate and beautiful artwork he has created. You decide to book an appointment with him, hoping that he can create something unique and special for you.

Days later, you find yourself standing outside the tattoo shop, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. The sign outside reads "Rampage Ink," and the interior is just as impressive as the website promised. The walls are adorned with examples of Akaza's work, ranging from delicate floral designs to bold, geometric patterns.

As you approach the front desk, a rather tall and imposing man emerges from the back room. He introduces himself as Akaza, his voice deep and smooth.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as he appraises you with a piercing gaze.

Akaza, the artist, is a towering figure, bulky and muscular, with broad shoulders and thick arms that are covered in intricate tattoos that seem to tell a story. His hair is short and black, with the ends dyed a vibrant pink. He wears a tight-fitting black plain t-shirt that hugs his chest and biceps, showing off his impressive physique. His black jeans have a stylish distressed look, with a hole on one knee that adds to his a little edgy appearance. Despite his imposing size, Akaza moves with a surprising grace, his every movement fluid and precise. He carries himself with a confident swagger, a man who knows his own worth and isn't afraid to show it. His piercing gaze seems to penetrate to the very core of a person, and when he speaks, his voice carries a low, rumbling power that commands attention. "Ah, you must be my next appointment," he says, a sly smile playing at the corners of his lips. As he approaches you, he can see that you're already nervous. He can't help but notice how exposed you are, with your boobs almost falling out of your tight shirt with a plunging neckline and your legs barely covered by a miniskirt. He can see that you're confident, but he can also see the small details that betray your nervousness. Akaza is used to clients who are nervous or even scared of getting a tattoo, but he can sense that you're particularly on edge. The moment Akaza laid his eyes on you, he felt a surge of possessiveness and desire that he couldn't quite explain. He knew that he wanted you, and that he would have you. "Come with me, and we'll get started on your tattoo."

You follow him to the back room, taking in the dim lighting and the low hum of music in the background.

Akaza gestures to the tattooing bed and asks you to take a seat, his eyes never leaving your face. "Tell me, what kind of design were you thinking of?" he asks, his fingers already starting to trace the lines of your skin.

You can feel the heat of his touch and the way it sends shivers down your spine. You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "It's actually my first tattoo, and I was thinking of something floral. But I want it in a place that not everyone can see."

As you describe your vision for the tattoo, Akaza nods along, his face taking on a look of intense concentration. He begins to sketch out the design on a sheet of paper, his movements fluid and precise. "I think the best possible location for this tattoo would be your abdomen," he says, pointing to the area just above your pubic mound. "It's a spot that's easy to hide if you need to, and it's not as sensitive as some other areas, so it shouldn't be too painful," he informs you. As you lay back on the tattooing bed, Akaza orders, "Alright, now lift your shirt and tug your skirt down a little. I need to make sure I can see the pace properly." As he prepares his tattoo gun and positions himself, you stop him abruptly. "Wait, sir," you say, your voice laced with anxiety. "I don't think I can do this…"

Akaza doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to study your face. He sees the fear in your eyes, the way your body tenses up. Akaza sets down the tattoo gun and gestures for you to sit up. "Hey," he whispers, his voice gentle. "It's okay. We can stop if you will want. But if you're up for it, I have an idea that might help." He watches as you bite your lip, waiting patiently for him to share his idea with you, and he can feel his desire grow. He can see that your nipples are hardened, even through the fabric of the shirt you're wearing. It's hot in the studio, but he knows that there is only one reason for that. "I can help you ease some stress," he says with a grin, his eyes lingering on your body. As his fingers deliberately graze your knee, it's evident that the touch is anything but accidental.

You blush at his words, but you can feel your own desire growing. You can see the hunger in his eyes, and it sends shivers down your spine. "I can see the way you're looking at me. It's kind of intense, sir." From the moment your eyes first beheld the figure of Akaza, you knew with utter certainty that he would be the bane of your existence. He exuded an aura of dangerous sensuality that was utterly irresistible, drawing you inexorably toward him with a magnetic force that left you powerless to resist. His piercing gaze seemed to strip away all pretense and lay bare the very essence of your being, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as he leans in closer to you. You can smell his strong cologne, and it's driving you wild. You can feel the heat building between you, and you know that you want him just as much as he wants you.

"I just want you to relax before we start," he utters, his lips brushing against your ear.

You moan softly, unable to resist him any longer. Twirling a strand of hair around your finger with a mischievous glint in your eye, you inquire, "So, Akaza, how do you plan on helping me cope with all this stress?"

Akaza takes your hand.

You hop off the bed and follow him.

The man leads you to the door of another room in the tattoo shop. As he pushes it open, the smell of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils. The room is bright and spacious, with a large tattooing bed in the center and shelves filled with ink bottles and tattoo equipment lining the walls.

So there you are, kneeling in front of a man whom you hardly know, engulfing his entire length inside your mouth, flicking and circling your tongue around it, utterly intoxicated by the sensation, looking up at him. Akaza's well-endowed member causes discomfort in your mouth, as his size is quite overwhelming. You have one hand resting between your thighs, legs slightly spread. Your fingers are teasing your already slick clit, having pushed your panties aside.

He is fully aware of his impressive size, taking pleasure in the sight of you struggling to handle it. His confidence only grows as he slips his hands into your hair, tugging at it occasionally, while emitting satisfied grunts. Suddenly, he firmly grasps your hair and begins thrusting vigorously, his sole aim being to release his load deep in your throat. The grip of your throat around his manhood is heavenly, so tight that it causes him to let out a throaty moan.

Tears stream down your face as he holds your head in place, your eyes rolling back as he empties himself deep down your throat. Mascara smudges down your cheeks, evidence of your surrender to his desires.

Akaza smirks wryly while looking down at you, his voice filled with a sense of satisfaction as he says, "Swallowed it all like a good slut, huh? You fucking cockslut." His eyes are fixed on you, watching your reaction as his calloused hand caresses your cheek.

Akaza takes hold of your elbow and pulls you up to your feet with a firm grip. Without a chance to catch your breath, he slams you against the mirror and fucks you relentlessly. The glass fogs from his heavy breathing while you moan uncontrollably, gripping his shirt and sobbing in pure ecstasy.

This is the thickest and best cock you've ever had, and it's driving you wild.

He lifts one of your legs, wrapping it around his hip, thrusting harder and faster, filling the room with wet, nasty sounds from your abused pussy. "You're so fucking tight, cunt. You came to me almost uncovered," he muses, his voice low and teasing. "Either you wanted to flaunt yourself or you were seeking to get fucked," Akaza remarks bluntly, his thrusts become sloppier with time.

Your body trembles as you climax and cream on his cock, taking all of his cum inside of you.

As it all comes to an end, he grabs your face with his hand and gives you the sloppiest kiss you've ever experienced. A string of saliva connects your lips when he pulls away. "You really took it all like a good, little whore," Akaza says, smirking at you.

After the intense intercourse with Akaza, you feel a sense of relaxation and contentment wash over you.

Akaza notices this and leads you back to the tattooing bed with a confident stride, ready to continue his artistry. The atmosphere in the room has changed; it is now charged with a quiet intensity and focus. As he prepares his tools, Akaza explains the steps in the tattooing process, his voice low and soothing, as if no passionate events had occurred between the two of you.

As he begins to work on your tattoo, you can feel his hands on your skin. They're strong and skilled. Akaza gives you a warm smile, sensing that you're feeling more at ease now.

You can feel the gentle pressure of the needle on your skin, a sensation that is simultaneously painful and pleasurable. The pain is bearable, and you find yourself relaxing into the rhythm of Akaza's movements. The man's using his expert touch to create the design you've chosen. As he works, he keeps up a steady stream of conversation, asking about your interests and sharing stories from his own life, ever so casually.

It's a distraction that helps take your mind off the pain, and you find yourself relaxing more and more as time goes on. After what had just happened, the slight stings caused by the tattoo gun's needles feels insignificant to you.

It is an easy job for Akaza to finish the tattoo since your mind is still reeling from the pleasure he had given you. Akaza finishes the intricate design with ease, his skilled hands moving fluidly with the tattoo gun.

You feel a slight stings as the needle punctures your skin, but your mind is elsewhere. You can still feel his firm grasp on you, his cock buried deep inside you as you both moaned in ecstasy.

When he's finished, he steps back to admire his work, but he's not just admiring the tattoo - Akaza is admiring you. "You look even more beautiful with the tattoo," he praises, his voice low and seductive. He offers you a discount on the tattoo, still grinning from the intense pleasure you both shared.

You eagerly ask if you can come back in maybe two weeks for another tattoo, and he nods his head, knowing that he has you under his spell. As you leave the shop, you can still feel the aftershocks of pleasure pulsing through your body. You know that you will be back for more, unable to resist the allure of the tattoo artist named Akaza and his skilled hands.

#tattoo artist au #akaza #akaza smut #akaza x you #akaza x reader #akaza x y/n #akaza x reader smut #kny smut #modern!akaza #dom!akaza #tattoo artist akaza #demon slayer #my writing #kny akaza #upper moon three

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phleb0tomist · 6 months

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the recent surge of articles on severe ME is shattering my heart. we’re looking at a live, ongoing portfolio of the NHS’s failure to protect young ME patients, the same failures that cast a shadow over both my childhood and my current life, and it’s so wild that things aren’t changing. there’s no repair, no apology for the highly preventable suffering or the deaths, which are mostly young women.

the improper care of ME patients isn’t because of a lack of funding, it’s because of ignorance & stubbornness. the bare minimum of appropriate care to prevent a severe ME patient from getting worse is to allow them to be somewhere dark, quiet, lying down, hydrated & fed, and somehow the NHS can’t even provide that. my main shred of hope is that this is finally being reported and i wonder if that will be the catalyst for a little bit of repair. i’m desperate to believe it will be

#feel free to reblog. it means a lot that ppl are becoming aware #txt #negative #medical trauma #medical.#severe myalgic encephalomyelitis #myalgic encephalomyelitis #chronic illness #starvation tw #death mention #let me know if more trigger tags are required

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munsons-hellfire · 1 year

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Chapter 2: Damsel In Distress

SUMMARY: You've settled down into your apartment now its time for you to find a teaching job, and Eddie wants to take you out to get to know you better and more about your past. All while your dad and brother set up a little welcome home party as well as a meet the crew party, but things seem to take a sideways turn and not in a good way.

PAIRINGS: Biker!Eddie Munson x Teacher!Fem!Reader

PART 2 IN THE DARK PARADISE SERIES

CONTENT WARNINGS: MFW (can still be read at work), a little angsty towards the end, Part 2, Biker!Eddie Munson, Teacher!Reader, no use of y/n (though bug is used), implied pet names, she/her pronouns (but barley used), Reader is 24 (turning 25 soon), Eddie is 26, post-upside down, vecna is defeated (will be mentioned in later parts), language, angst, mentions of drugs, mentions of murder, rival biker gang

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is part 2, I hope you enjoyed it and are enjoying this series so far. I hope you enjoy this part, I apologize for it being so long, I thought about splitting it up but my gut was just telling me to keep going and end on a slight cliff hanger. It’ll be picked up in part 3 though so fear not. The ending that I had was not the intended direction I was heading for but I like how it ended so it's sticking, I just really got into writing this part which is why it's so long. Plus I’m a sucker for angst, so I had to have something in this part. As we progress through this series it will start to get more mature and will eventually be for readers over 18+ with eventual smut as well. I just haven't decided when it’ll get more mature and when the eventual smut will happen. I did make a playlist for this series, the link to the playlist can be found in the series masterlist under "word count". And if you’d like to be added to the permanent tags let me know in the comments or send me a message. And please feel free to send some asks if you wanna know more about Eddie and Reader’s relationship or other characters in the series. I would love that a lot, it makes me excited and happy about my series.

WORD COUNT: 6.2K Words

THE DARK PARADISE SERIES MASTERLIST

The birds were chirping outside, you could hear them through the open window in your apartment. It was a warm night in the middle of August, which you thought was odd considering August seemed to have some hot days already. You turned on your air mattress and reached out for your phone that rested on the floor and had been connected to the charger. You watched the screen pop up so you could look at the time.

There was a text message from your brother and one from your dad. Luckily there was no text message from your ex. You had blocked the number she had used last night to contact you, but you wouldn't put it past her to get another number and start texting and calling you again. If that were the case you knew you would be turning your phone off a lot until you could get a new one.

After looking at the messages left from your dad and brother you decided to get ready so you could head out and look for a new teaching position. Your old school would be sending over whatever paperwork that would be needed for your hire. You had your resumé and portfolio ready. After getting ready for the day you grabbed everything you needed and headed towards your front door.

You opened the door and went to walk out only to see Eddie standing at your door ready to knock. A sudden gasp left your lips as Eddie stared down at you. You looked pretty today, Eddie couldn't deny that. The way you had dressed caused the man to smile and try and hide the blush that was creeping up his neck. You held onto your bag tightly. Your phone was in your pocket and your keys were in your left hand.

"What are you doing here?" You questioned, eyes scanning Eddie for any trace of a lie he might throw out.

"I came to see you, Bug." Eddie said, smirking after watching the roll of her eyes. So she likes to be a brat? He thought to himself as he continued to stare at you.

"Please don't call me Bug, that name is only reserved for Sam and my dad." You were stern when you told Eddie how you felt about the nickname.

"Okay, so what can I call you?" Eddie clearly wanted to know your name and you were definitely hesitant to tell him. Without a second thought crossing your mind your name dropped from your lips. Eddie smiled triumphantly. He repeated your name like he had been saying it all his life, and if you were being honest with yourself you really like how your name rolled off his tongue.

Then you wondered what he'd be like in the sheets, what he would be like with his tongue on you. Before you could get any further into the little thoughts you were having your phone started to ring. You forgot you had turned the sound back on. You answered the phone without checking who was calling you.

"Hello." You called out, Eddie was waiting for the phone call to end so he ended up leaning against the wall while you turned around and closed your door to look up.

"You are some bitch, you know that. You really think you can skip town on me and leave me behind."

You sighed and turned away from Eddie. He would still be able to hear everything but you didn't want him to see your face. You didn't want to see him the way she was making you feel.

"Jules, look, we broke up, I moved on, and you need to do the same." You tried to keep your voice calm and collected with Eddie right behind you but he could hear the break in your voice, he was sure Jules could hear it too.

"I'm not moving on, not until I have you back in my arms." Her tone of voice made you flinch slightly, something Eddie has also seen.

"That's never going to happen."

"You better believe it will. I'll-"

You ended the call before Jules could say another word to you. Your phone was quickly turned to silent and you shoved it back into your back pocket. Jules would definitely be calling you again, which meant you had to get a new phone now. Gathering yourself together you exhaled and turned around to look back at Eddie. He was still leaning against the wall.

His arms were crossed over his chest and a tattoo was peaking through slightly, not to mention you could get a better look at the few tattoos that rested on his fingers. It made him look super sexier, and it really helped that he was a biker.

"Sorry about that." You paused, while Eddie adjusted himself slightly. "It was my ex, she won't leave me alone. Jules, she thinks we're meant to be with each other, soulmates and all that bullshit."

"And you don't?" Eddie asked, he knew that maybe this was his way to get to know more about Sam's little sister.

"Well, my first ex before Jules, Mikey, he believed in all that crap and I did too. Thought he was the one I was supposed to be with but then the shit hit the window and things got bad so we broke up. Now he's in Cali fucking whoever and doing all the drugs, at least that's what I heard. Then I met Jules not even a few weeks after Mikey and I ended things and I thought she was perfect, but she was too perfect. Anyway, one thing after another happened and now here I am."

The two of you started walking down the steps. Eddie was right on your trail as he digested the new information you had given him. You still weren't going into much detail with the break-up between you and Jules but it was clear how much it was taking a toll on you. Then you stopped on the steps remembering that neither your dad nor Sam knew. Eddie stopped on the step above her, he was looking down at you and honestly it was kinda sexy.

"Please don't tell my dad, or Sam. I don't want them knowing that's the real reason I'm back in Hawkins. As far as they knew I had to leave my mom and step-father behind." You had only known this man less than a day and already you were making him keep a secret from his boss.

"You got it, princess." Though Eddie was certain that Allen and Sam would know before the week was out. It would either come out of his mouth, or you would slip, it was going to happen one way or another.

The two of you continued down the stairs of your apartment building until you finally made it to the sidewalk that led you to your car. Eddie had managed to park his bike next to your car. This allowed you to get a better look at it. His bike was a Harley Davidson, that much was clear. It also contained a design on it, most of the bike had been covered in webbing.

A large spider was in the center of the bike, standing still on the web that it seemed to have created. You looked closer at it and noticed that the spider must've been a Black Widow, because you could see the hourglass peeking through. Not to mention there were a few other hourglasses on his bike, but most were small and barely noticeable. The bike really seemed to suit Eddie, and honestly you kind of liked the way it looked.

"So where are you off to today?" Eddie questioned, as he leaned up against his bike at the same time you leaned against the hood of your car.

"I have to go to Hawkins Middle School to make sure they have all the paperwork for my transfer and I have to give them my resumé and portfolio." You paused for a minute. "They just wanted to make sure everything is good before I start working at the end of August."

You watched Eddie smile at the way you had yourself prepared for your job and you still had a few weeks to get ready. The only thing that really seemed to be crossing Eddie's mind was that he wanted to spend the day with you. It's why he had shown up at your door, hand ready to send a knock on the door at full throttle.

"Mind if I tag along with ya, princess?" Just the way his question rolled off his tongue had you a hot mess on the inside. Never in your life had someone made you feel this way. You didn't feel it with any one night stands and you definitely didn't feel it with Mikey or Jules. It was different with Eddie. You felt safe with him.

"I don't see why not." You looked at your car and then Eddie's bike. If you were being honest with yourself you wanted to ride on his bike. "Whose vehicle are we taking?" You had questioned, all while hoping he would just say his.

"We can take my bike." Eddie said softly, with a smile jumping to his lips as he stared at you.

"I guess it's a good thing I decided to go for a book bag today." You mumbled.

Eddie snickered at you. Meanwhile, you took your phone out of your pocket and placed it in your book bag with your keys. Before you dropped your keys into the bag you popped open the trunk. Walking to the back you grabbed the helmet that Sam had gifted you as an early birthday present. He gave it to you last night after Eddie and Steve had left and you felt that it would be safe and sound in the trunk of your car rather than your apartment.

When you closed your trunk and placed the helmet over your head, Eddie seemed shocked that you had come prepared. He stared at it, seeing their signature logo on the front of the helmet. Which prompted even more confusion. While you weren't a biker, you had ties to the club because your dead lead it and your brother was the second in command with Eddie and Steve right below him.

"Sam got it for me. An early birthday gift, I guess. Or maybe a welcome home gift." You smiled at Eddie as he turned on his bike and you climbed onto the back.

"When's your birthday?" Eddie adjusted himself slightly as you wrapped your arms around his waist tightly.

"At the end of August. August 31st to be exact."

"I'm glad I get to be here when you celebrate it."

"I'm turning 25, there's not much to celebrate. I'm just another year older that's all."

"I get that." Eddie paused as he backed up his bike out of the parking spot. "Better hold on tight, princess, don't want you fallin' off." You smiled, tightening your grip just a little more. Once Eddie knew you were secure around his waist he drove off heading for Hawkins Middle School.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

Eddie pulled up to the middle school and turned off his bike. You climbed off and took the helmet off, setting it where you had just been sitting. You looked at Eddie as he placed his brown eyes on you.

"I'll be waiting here when you're done. And when you're done I'm taking you into town, my treat." Eddie said, sternly.

"Eddie, you don't have to do that." You didn't want to turn him down but you also didn't want him to go out of his way to make plans with you. "Besides I'm sure Sam and my dad probably need your help with whatever they normally do." In that sense you were honestly completely clueless to what they actually did.

You knew that the club was big and that they often went out of their way to take care of things that Chief Hopper might not be able to take care of. You also knew that sometimes your dad and brother would go home with a bloody face or bloody knuckles, you knew not to ask questions when you saw it if you were on FaceTime. Basically you knew not to ask questions about work.

If they wanted to tell you they would. And you honestly didn't have a problem with that. You didn't want to really know about the horrors that they might be facing, or that they might be putting their lives on the line for the job. But at the end of the day you knew that they knew how to protect themselves. Eddie started to shake his head at you.

"Nonsense, if Allen or Sam need me they'll call me. If I'm needed for a job they know how to get in touch. But until that happens I'll be waiting here for you when you get out." There was that smile that Eddie already loved, he watched as it brightened your face. You found yourself sucking your bottom lip in-between your teeth to hide the smile on your lips.

"Okay, I shouldn't be too long. I'll be back in a little while." With those words you turned around and walked towards the front door of Hawkins Middle school. Back in New York you had spent the last two years teaching 8th grade. It was the grade that you wanted to teach and had been approved to teach in Hawkins.

As you walked into the school you headed towards the front looking for the office where you met with the principal and the assistant principal. It had been so long since you had stepped foot in the middle school, it was honestly strange to be back here as a teacher this time rather than a student. As you turned the corner you walked right into someone whom you assumed was another teacher.

"I'm sorry." You said, leaning down to help pick the papers from the ground.

"It's all right." She lifted from the ground as you did too. The woman in front of you had blond hair, it was a short length just above her shoulders. She was wearing a floral dress, and had nude heels on. "I'm Amy Willow, I teach 8th Science." She said introducing herself, then holding her hand out in front of you.

You took her hand in yours and shook it while telling her your name. "I will most likely be teaching 8th grade English. That's actually why I'm here, to get everything sorted out. I have a meeting with the principal and assistant principal." You explained.

"Oh, I can take you there. And then afterwards I can take you to your room. It's only a few doors down from mine."

"You know about me?" You were confused, but then again you wouldn't be surprised if they had already made a statement about how you would be joining them for the school year.

"Oh yeah, you're the gossip around here. Something new, we haven't had something new since the Earthquake a few years ago. Not to mention the Biker club around town. Though that one biker is kinda cute." You looked at her as you walked next to her.

"Which biker are you talking about?" You were hoping that she wasn't talking about Eddie, because you wanted nothing more than to have him to yourself. Though that thought would never see the day of light.

"He's probably a little taller than you, I think his dad runs the Wolves and he's like his second in command." You had the biggest shit eating grin on your face and Amy definitely picked up on it. "What?" She asked, with a chuckle falling out of her mouth after the chuckle.

"That is Sam, and he's my older brother."

"Oh, my god. That's embarrassing. I am so sorry."

"No, god, please don't be. Sam needs someone in his life other than my dad, and me, and the Wolves. I'd be happy to put in a good word for you." You looked at Amy, watching as her smile got bigger.

"You would do that?" The shock that dripped from her voice surprised you.

"Yes, I think you and Sam would be great together. Plus I am in dire need of some friends."

"I need some friends too. Most of the teachers don't like me. Guess cause I'm either too young or I'm too weird for them."

"How could you be too young? And honestly who cares if you're weird. Everyone's weird in their own way."

Amy gave a shrug, the two of you eventually coming to a stop outside the office. "I'm in my 20's, I went to school here a few years ago so it's weird for the teachers that know me. But anyway, here is the office. And this is my number. Feel free to text or call, or FaceTime, whatever your comfortable with and definitely give it to your brother."

"I will make sure your number makes its way into his phone. Thank you for showing me the way."

"You're welcome. I'll be just down the hall making some copies, please come get me when you're done and I'll show you to your room."

"Sounds like a plan." You took the piece of paper that had her number on it and shoved it in your pocket. Then after saying your goodbye to Amy you headed into the office to sit down and talk with the principal's. All went well and they gave you keys to get into the school and to get into your room. Afterwards you met up with Amy and she walked you to your room.

It was a little bigger than the room you had in New York. You couldn't wait to decorate and make the room yours. On the desk that rested at the front of the classroom had your work laptop as well as the curriculum for what you would be teaching this year. As you glanced over it you noticed that it was a little different from the curriculum that you had been teaching in New York.

This was the fresh start you desperately needed. And now that you had your classroom and your work computer, everything was falling into place. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you turned around in the classroom. While you had a lot of setting up to do for the classroom you knew it would be worth it in the long run. There was a knock at your door and you looked to see Amy.

"I'm heading out for the day, just wanted to say goodbye." Amy said.

"I'll walk with you, just give me a sec." Amy gave a nod of her head. You turned towards your desk and unzipped your book bag putting your laptop and the papers into it. Once it was zipped you walked out of the classroom walking with Amy.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Amy questioned.

"Oh, I'm going to see the town, I don't really have a choice in the matter. And then my dad wants me to stop by later for something." You explained as the two of you walked out of the school. Your eyes found Eddie who was still leaning against his bike. "Do you wanna meet someone?" You asked, placing your eyes on Amy.

"Sure." She saw Eddie and seemed to be hesitant but followed behind her. Eddie picked himself up from his bike.

"Eddie, this is Amy Willow. We'll be working together in the next few weeks. Amy, this is Eddie Munson."

"Oh, you work with her brother Sam right?" Amy was in all smiles as she asked the question. Eddie was staring at her with a blank look, it seemed that he was studying her to determine if she would be safe enough around you.

"I do. He's one of my best friends." Eddie answered, causing you to look at him with a serious but playful look. Something of which Eddie took note of. You knew now that if you wanted to do something with Eddie you might just have to sneak around, it got you hot and bothered just thinking about it.

"Oooh that's so exciting. Well I should get going. I'll see you around." Amy turned to look at you. "If you need help setting up your room, just call down to my room or shoot me a text. And if you want to hang out over a glass of wine please let me know." Your laughter filled Eddie's ears as your smiled brightly at her. He couldn't help the little small smile that appeared on his lips.

"I will let you know. Thank you for being a huge help today. And I promise I'll put in a good word with Sam. I'll make sure you two have a date by the end of the week."

Shock ran across Amy's face, as Eddie exchanged a glance with you. You felt that this had been the most happy you had been since leaving New York. You were with a guy that you definitely felt growing feelings towards, and you had made your first friend.

"You really don't have to do that." Amy was insistent on it.

"Nonsense, I think it's the least I can do for someone whom I know will be my best friend, and maybe one day my sister-in-law." You and Eddie both saw the blush that crept on her face as she looked between you two. Amy gave a nod and eventually walked away. You moved over to Eddie and he looked at you.

"Give me one minute." Eddie said, he left you on his bike confused as he called out Amy's name. From a distance you watched the two make a brief interaction with each other. You watched her give Eddie a nod before they both turned away from each other. Amy was heading to her car again and Eddie was heading back to you.

"What was that all about?" You asked curiously, staring at the biker with soft eyes.

He gave a tight lipped smile, "just wanted to ask her something, that's all. You ready for the town tour?" Eddie questioned, trying to change the subject quickly.

"You know that I lived in Hawkins when I was younger, right?"

"I know, but I'm sure it's changed since you were last here."

You gave a slight nod with a shrug of your shoulders. Eddie climbed on his bike and turned it on. You placed your helmet over your hair and climbed onto the back of the bike, eventually wrapping your arms around Eddie's slim waist tightly. He smirked to himself, taking off heading down the road towards town.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

Your travels into the town had been short lived. Though what you had seen, you could tell just how much the town of Hawkins had changed since you had last visited it. You and Eddie were now heading to your dad's house as requested. Though you were still clueless as to why you were even going there. You had a small smile on your lips when Eddie pulled up to your dad's house.

"Here we are, princess." Eddie said, kicking the stand out and turning his bike off. You pulled your arms from Eddie's waist, and turned to look at the house you hadn't seen in so long.

"Home sweet home." You said, pulling your helmet off and holding onto the straps after you clipped them back together.

"How longs it been since you were here?" Eddie questioned as he placed his brown eyes on you.

Your eyes found his, "uh, I think about 10 maybe more than that, maybe less. I came for a few summers but then my mother didn't want me seeing my dad or brother anymore so I didn't see them for a long time, or this house. The only time I really saw my brother and dad was when I could FaceTime with them when I got a phone."

"Are you excited to be back home?" You walked towards the front door with Eddie following right behind you.

"Of course I am. I hated living in New York. Teaching up there was okay, but I hated everything the city had to offer. So yes, I am very happy to be back home with this quiet life."

"Hopefully it won't be such a quiet life." Eddie smirked at you. You looked back at him playfully.

"I don't think I will, not if you're planning to stay around."

"Well, I don't plan on going anywhere princess."

The door opens and you turn back around to see your older brother standing at the front door with a bright smile on his face.

"Why are you smiling like that, Sam?" You asked quizzically.

Sam looked at you and then at Eddie, but then his eyes fell back on you. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Bug." Sam grabbed your arm and pulled you into the house.

Eddie followed behind the two of you watching the sibling interaction. The lights turned on and everyone jumped out yelling surprise. The sudden noise caused you to panic slightly, you backed up into Eddie. The biker took notice of the way you suddenly changed at the voices that ran through your ears. But you calmed down when you felt Eddie slid his fingers into yours for just a brief moment.

You were quick to replace your panicked look with a happy one. Sam didn't take notice of the way you had reacted but like Eddie your dad had seen it too. He would make sure to pull you aside later and have a talk with you about it. Deep down it brought you back to the times where you and Jules would constantly argue with each other, not to mention the amount of times that your step-father would raise his voice to you.

Sam pulled you around to everyone, your fingers disconnected from Eddie's as you were pulled away. You were introduced to Chief Hopper and his wife Joyce. After you had meant them you had met the kids that Steve used to babysit before he became a part of the Wolves. Though they were in college now, you met all of them. Dustin Henderson was the first you had met followed by Mike Wheeler who was Nancy Wheeler's younger brother.

You met Will and El who were step-siblings, and their older brother Jonathan who was dating Nancy. Then you finally met Lucas and Erica Sinclair who had been standing with Max Mayfield. Eventually you noticed all the kids were hanging out with each other and talking about a game while they ate some food. Steve introduced you to his girlfriend, Becca Reynolds.

She was nice and you like her a lot. After you had met her, you finally met Robin and you knew almost instantly that you two would be best friends. The last person you least expected to be there had been one you already knew.

"Amy?" You asked, as she stuffed her face with a burger. She turned away from your father and looked at you and Sam. Eddie was elsewhere, most likely talking to Steve and Becca. She dropped her burger onto her plate and placed it on the counter. Your dad turned around and looked at you and your brother. "What are you doing here?" You questioned as the two of you hugged each other.

Sure you had just met earlier in the morning, but she was already your first real friend here in Hawkins. Like Eddie, and your dad and brother she was making Hawkins feel like a home again.

"Uh, Eddie, he invited me this morning. He thought you might like having someone you know here at the party." Amy answered, when she pulled back from the hug. You had a bubbly smile on your lips, your eyes found Eddie. He had been watching the entire interaction.

"Thank you." You whispered to him. Eddie only gave a nod and smiled back at you.

"So who is this? She seems to be the only one that we don't know." Sam said, pulling your attention back to the already ongoing conversation.

"This is Amy Willow, we'll be working together soon." You answered.

"It's nice to meet you Amy, I'm Sam. Bug's older brother." Sam said introducing himself to her. It seemed like you didn't need to do anything else because Sam was already so interested in Amy. You dad took that as a perfect opportunity to talk to you in his office. He excused himself as well as you and grabbed a hold of your hand pulling him with you.

"Dad, what are you doing?" You questioned, completely confused as to what was happening.

"We need to talk in my office." His words cut through your ears and you suddenly feared what he wanted to talk about. When you two were in his office and the door was closed and locked he sat down at the edge of his desk looking at you. "Tell me why you're really here, Bug." Allen said.

Your eyes found your father and took in the frame of his stance, he had locked the door so you knew neither of you would be leaving until you came out with the truth. You hadn't even been here for a week and he had already picked up on something. Though to be fair your dad could read you like a book. When you were involved you couldn't hide your emotions from him like you could with others.

Though you weren't doing a good job hiding it from Eddie because you had already spilled the news to Eddie. A deep sigh rippled through your chest, you walked over to one of the chairs in front of his desk and sat down. You tried to keep yourself calm but you found that didn't help much when you started bouncing your leg.

"Would you be okay if Eddie were in here?" You questioned, not looking up from your hands.

You dad didn't say anything, he stood up and walked towards the door and walked out leaving you alone with your thoughts. Allen knew that the second you came here that Eddie would be interested in you, because you were everything he wanted. And he knew it would be the same for you and by the look of it you two were already tugging at something.

"Munson!" Allen called out, Sam looked at Allen with a serious look on his face as he stopped the conversation between him and Amy.

"Everything okay, dad?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Make sure the guests are well fed, or get them in the pool." Allen ordered as Eddie walked up to him.

"Everything okay, sir?" Eddie inquired when he stopped in front of Allen.

"Come with me." Allen turned back around and walked down the hallway with Eddie following behind him. Sam did as told and got their guest and the rest of the Wolves outside where the pool was. Most of them had gone outside anyway but the rest were still inside. You looked up when your dad walked back into his office with Eddie on his trail.

"What's happening?" Eddie asked another question as the door was shut and locked.

Allen looked at Eddie and then at you. "I know what trouble looks like when I see it. So tell me, Bug, what did Jules do to you that made you run back home?" Allen questioned you.

"How do you know about Jules?" You were now utterly confused. You had only told your brother about Jules, you didn't want either of your parents to know. You knew both would be a pain because you were jumping into another relationship rather than taking a pause. "Sam told you, didn't he?"

"He did, and when I found out I had Hopper find everything he could find on her. Turns out Jules isn't her real name and she doesn't have a pretty past." Eddie looked at your dad with wide eyes, you having the same look on your face as well.

"What does that mean?" The question left Eddie's lips before he could stop it.

"It means that you're going to stay with my daughter and protect her until we can locate Jules and have her arrested for some kind of charge. You're the only boy I trust enough to protect my baby. I knew what was happening the second you told Sam you were coming back to Hawkins." Your dad explained.

"What did she do?" You asked, fearful of what you might learn about Jules.

"For starters her name isn't Jules, it's Jessica. She kept the same last name but changed her first name. If someone wants to go into hiding the way she did she should've changed her entire name. Secondly, Jessica Hartley killed her mother and father, and pleaded guilty to insanity. Before the trail was finished she escaped. She had the help of her ex-girlfriend before you, and well she didn't live to see another day because she's dead too. Now Jessica won't stop until you're dead and I'm not going to let her hurt you."

So much for a fresh start. You thought that to yourself, your dad and Eddie were talking to each other but you couldn't hear their voices. The only thing you could actually hear was a ringing in your ears that wouldn't seem to go away. Not only had she lied to you about who she was but now she might just be on her way to kill you. The panic was starting to settle in the pit of your stomach. You took a deep breath in and exhaled.

"Where is Jessica now? Is she still in New York?" You heard Eddie ask your father.

"I have some of the boys up in New York checking out her apartment. I'm hoping that she's still there and we don't have to prepare for any kind of war that she might want to start."

You stood up from your chair, keeping your eyes on your father. Eddie and Allen were staring at you. "Why would you have to prepare for a war?"

"Because Jessica Hartley is the actual daughter of one of our largest and painfully annoying rival groups. They are mostly located in California, but they have some in New York too. They're the reason Jessica killed her parents, her ex was a part of the group but her dad had her kill her. And well now he wants you dead because he can't get anywhere near me or Sam."

"Fuck." You breathed out, now you really wished you had seen the red flags. You lifted your hand to your throat and started rubbing it.

"Honey, you're gonna be okay. Eddie's gonna stay with you and watch out for you. Not to mention Amy will be watching you while you're at work, and Robin will be there too. Eddie can make as many stops to the school as he needs to if that's something you want."

"What? Are you saying Amy fucking works for you?" Allen could see that what he had said wasn't helping you.

"She does and doesn't. Her dad was a ranger out in Texas before he moved out here. I trusted her father and I trust her, she knows how to use a gun and how to fight. She's still a teacher but she will protect you if needed."

"No." You said sternly, eyeing your father.

"If Jules is coming after me then you're going to use me as bait. You're going to train me how to protect myself and I expect to be a part of this after it's over."

"No, I'm not letting you get in on this, I barely wanted your brother with me. You have a good life as a teacher."

"I can barely afford the apartment I'm living in. And yes I love teaching the kids and for the remainder of this year I'll still teach, but I want in dad. I'm not going to be some damsel in distress. I'm not gonna sit on the sidelines while Eddie, Amy, and Robin try to protect me from my psycho ex girlfriend who I wished I had seen the red flags before I got involved with her. I am doing this."

Eddie and Allen exchanged a look with each other. "What do you think, Munson?" Allen questioned, hoping he would side with him.

"I think your daughter is tough, and I think this plan would work. Maybe Bug here is the key to taking down the Stingers. Maybe this is how we get on top of them. I can't believe I'm saying this but I agree with princess over there." Eddie said, having your back.

Allen released an angry sigh as he looked at the two. This is not what he had in mind at all. But he knew deep down that this plan might just allow them to put a stop to the Stingers before any more damage could be done.

"Okay, fine. But your training starts tomorrow. Eddie is still staying with you. And we have to wait for the call to decide where we go from there." Allen explained.

"What call?"

"We're waiting to see if Hartley is still in New York."

"And if she's not?"

"Then you're gonna have to be a damsel in distress."

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