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bornonthesavage · 2 years

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Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In Part 7

Part 6 Part 8 Read on AO3

By the time Steve pulled up outside the dingy bar on the outskirts of town, the nerves he’d been forcefully suppressing for the last few days showed up in full force. Because no matter how many times he told himself this wasn’t a big deal, it was. This was Eddie’s home turf, a place he spent his time with friends. So Steve being here meant something. Right?

Eddie had invited him, which meant he wanted him there. Unless, of course, he’d only done it because he felt bad. Poor Steve, fallen from grace and begging for friends. No. Steve had to believe that this was genuine. It was the only way this friendship was going to work.

He looked at himself in the mirror once more. His hair was perfect, of course, but that didn’t stop him from running his fingers through it once more. It had taken hours to pick an outfit. Nothing had seemed right for the occasion. He wasn’t like, a rocker or whatever. For a brief moment, he had considered actually going out and buying an entirely new outfit for this occasion. But he’d quickly brushed that thought off. Instead, he’d found a black V-neck t-shirt that he’d bought two years ago. It was too small now, a little tight across the chest and arms, but he still thought he looked good in it. Paired with his brown leather jacket and best pair of Levi’s? Yeah, he was killing it.

There was no bouncer at the door when Steve walked in, which was only mildly surprising. The places wasn’t as dead as he’d expected it to be for a Wednesday night. There were around a dozen people spread out around the room and lining the bar. As he walked further inside he spotted the rest of Hellfire club. Or at least, the one’s who weren’t in the band, which left only Josie, Mic, and Todd. All three were leaned together in conversation when Steve approached.

“Hey guys!”

They jumped apart, eyes snapping up to look at Steve. Had Eddie not told them he’d be coming? Josie was the first to recover.

“Oh, uh, hey Steve. We didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

He dropped down into the chair beside her. “What? Why not?”

Mic shrugged. “This isn’t your scene, is it?”

Steve looked around, taking in the dingy carpet and stale smell of cigarettes. “Honestly? No, not really. But still, I wasn’t going to not come.”

Todd raised an eyebrow and leaned forward on his elbow. “Why not?”

“For the same reason you’re here,” Steve said, looking up at the makeshift stage. “Eddie.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the others all exchange looks. When he glanced back at them, Josie was eyeing him up curiously.

“So, you’ve been hanging out with Eddie a lot recently, huh?””

Steve titled his head back and forth. “I mean, I wouldn’t say ‘a lot’. We got dinner together last week and then I gave him a ride home over the weekend. But yeah, we’re hanging. I’m not sure if he considers me his friend yet, but I’d say he’s mine.”

Todd snorted and shared a conspiratorial look with Mic. “Oh, I’d say Eddie wants to be your friend all right.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. Had Eddie talked about him with the rest of his friends? Had he told them something? He wanted to ask, but also, he probably shouldn’t. Right? That was something he should trust Eddie to tell him himself. Boundaries, and all that shit. Before he could think about it anymore, the curtain behind the stage was pulled back and Corroded Coffin appeared.

Eddie was the first to step out, and Steve’s brain had to do a double take when he saw him. Eddie had squeezed himself into the tightest pair of ripped black jeans Steve had ever seen. It looked like he’d cut the sides out of the band shirt he wore, leaving it open and flowing on the sides. Pair that with the black eyeliner and the way Eddie had pulled his curls up into a bun on the top of his head? Steve had never before thought of another guy as hot, but, yeah. That’s what this was. Eddie looked hot. And with his guitar slung low on his hips? Jesus.

Steve licked his lips and tried to focus as Eddie gripped the microphone. “Good evening to all you fine gents and dapper ladies at the Hideout tonight! You’re all looking splendid and we’re thrill that you’ve decided to spend your precious nights off from the local brothel with little old us. We’re Corroded Coffin, but if you didn’t already know that, where the hell have you been?”

They received a smattering of applause from around the bar, though none so loud as from Steve’s table. Eddie turned toward them, and when his eyes landed on Steve they went wide. Steve wasn’t sure why he would look surprised, considering he’d said he would be here. But it was fine. They were building trust. The shock only lasted a second, as Eddie’s face shifted into one of wicked delight.

“We have a few new faces in here tonight, and we look forward to thoroughly melting them with our killer riffs. Let’s go!”

They immediately began in on a song that was a little heavy for Steve’s tastes, but he could at least appreciate how they played. He could especially appreciate how Eddie played. God, it looked like he was trying to make love to his guitar with the way he thrust his hips. It was damn near pornographic. And the way he sang? Yeah, Steve could get used to hearing more of that. Eddie’s singing voice was a little deeper than when he spoke, and there was a bit of a raspy tone to it that was pleasing to the ears.

As they continued playing, Steve got a little lost in it as he leaned forward with his elbows. As Eddie sang, he would periodically glance over in Steve’s direction. He would also look away as soon as their eyes met. Which was fine. It gave Steve more time to appreciate the whole performance. It was magnetic, the way Eddie lit up on stage as if he were meant to be there. And Steve could see it. Years down the line, Eddie performing for sold out shows in giant venues with thousands of people screaming his name. Steve would be one of them.

But before Steve knew it, the hour was up. Eddie dipped into one last bow, his face split into a wide grin. “That’s our set, folks! Don’t forget to tip your bartender!”

The band disappeared behind the curtain and Steve sat back in his chair for the first time in an hour. For some reason, he felt dizzy. Had he been breathing? He had to have been, otherwise he’d have passed out. So why did he feel lightheaded? Something cold pressed into his hand and he looked down to see Josie handing him a cold beer.

“Oh, uh, thanks. How much was it?”

She waved her hand, and for some reason she looked extremely smug. “You can get the next round. So, what did you think of the show?”

Steve smiled. “It was great! I had no idea Eddie was such an awesome singer.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s really good. What was your favorite part?”

His favorite part? Had there been a part that wasn’t Eddie? “Um, I mean, I liked that slower song in the middle.”

It looked like she had to bite back a smile. “Huh, yeah, that was new. He doesn’t usually play love ballads. Eddie must have added that to the set list since last time.”

“Oh, well, it was really good.”

She nodded. “It was. You should tell him that.”

As if on cue, the chair next to him scraped against the floor as Eddie pulled it back and dropped down. He looked like he’d cleaned off, but his hair was still damp with either sweat or water. The smile he gave Steve was almost manic, and it made something like excitement twist in his gut.

“Hey there Stevie. What did you think of the show?” Despite his smile, Steve thought he saw nerves in the tightness of his eyes.

“Dude, it was awesome! You totally killed that. I had no idea you could play like a total rock god!”

Color flooded into his face, followed by a look of panic. Steve didn’t understand why. Was Eddie so unused to compliments? That couldn’t be true. Surely others had told him how good he was. Eddie ducked his head down and hid his mouth behind his hand, the lights from the bar catching on his rings.

“Are you being serious, or are you just fucking with me?” Eddie mumbled.

Steve huffed and threw his hands into the air. “Okay, seriously, why would I be fucking with you? Did you see yourself up there? You have to know how good you are.”

Eddie removed his hand from his mouth, but his face was still a bright shade of pink. He looked over Steve carefully, then shrugged. “I mean, I know how good we are. But I sort of figured you’d stay for one song, realize you hated it, then leave. So excuse me for being a little surprised.”

“Yeah, well.” Steve took a swig of beer. “I did like it. And maybe I’m a little biased.”

“Oh?” Eddie leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. “And why is that?”

Steve rolled his eyes at the obvious fishing for a compliment. “It probably has something to do with me liking the lead singer.”

Eddie made some sort of choking sound before immediately erupting into a coughing fit. Steve leaned forward in alarm, patting him on the back.

“Whoa, you okay man?”

“Yep,” Eddie wheezed. “Fine. Choked on my own spit.”

“Here, drink this,” Steve said, offering is beer.

Eddie eyed it for a second before grabbing the bottle and taking a gulp. Once the coughing had settled, he set the now half empty beer onto the table before turning his wide eyes back on Steve.

“So, you um, you like me huh?”

Steve smirked. “Uh, yeah, duh. It would be sort of shitty if I didn’t like my friend.”

The look Eddie gave him at that was unreadable. After a moment gave a short nod. “Your friend. Right. Of course. That makes sense.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

Eddie shook his head, his eyes focused somewhere off on the distance. “No, of course not.”

Steve sort of didn’t believe him. God, why was he like this? This was exactly why he was friendless at the ripe age of eighteen. There had to be something wrong with him, right? Something that others could see but he couldn’t that made it impossible to connect in any meaningful way. But god, he was trying. He had to. Because he knew, in the quiet place at the back of his mind, that as soon as he stopped trying, he would drown. But it was fine. He could get this back on track. Just keep it casual.

“Do you want a drink? I promised to get the next round, so it’s on me.”

With Eddie’s eyes back on him, Steve felt like he could breathe again. The bright smile he was graced with helped. “Yeah, sure Stevie.”

They made their way to the bar together, where Steve ordered eight beers. He wasn’t asked for an ID, which maybe should have been surprising, but wasn’t. This place didn’t exactly seem like it was big on rules and regulations. Eddie leaned against the bar, his arms braced behind him, and legs kicked out. Off in the other corner of the room, the sound of pool balls clacking together caught Steve’s attention. When he looked up, his eyes met with a girl leaning against the pool table. The look she gave him was no doubt salacious. Steve thought he recognized her from school, though he was pretty sure she had graduated the year before. There was another girl with her, and they were both eyeing him and Eddie up with obvious interest.

Steve nudged Eddie’s arm. “I think we have a couple of admirers.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Those girls. They’re into us. You want to go talk to them?”

The confusion cleared from Eddie’s face as he looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was replaced by what seemed like irritation, but quickly shifted back into indifference.

��Nah, I’m good. You go ahead though.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “What, you’re not interested in getting laid?”

Eddie’s jaw clenched up, his face turning a light shade of pink. “I didn’t say that. They just aren’t my type.”

Huh, Steve hadn’t considered that. The girls looked like they fit right into the rock scene, and he would have guessed that Eddie would be into someone more like himself. But hey, that wasn’t always the case. He tilted his head.

“Okay, so what’s your type?”

Eddie picked up a bottle of beer from the bar top and took a sip, not looking at Steve. “Sporty.”

That surprised a laugh out of Steve. “No way. You’re fucking with me.”

“Why would I be fucking with you?”

Steve turned his whole body to face him and crossed his arms. “Uh, maybe because you make a habit of climbing onto tables and mocking the entire idea of sports.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie shrugged. “Trust me, I don’t like it. But I can’t help who I’m attracted to.”

Hmm. Steve knew that was true enough. “So, what then? Cheerleaders?”

At that, Eddie finally looked back at him. There was clear amusement in his eyes, though Steve didn’t understand why. “Yeah, Steve. Cheerleaders. Too bad those dang cheerleaders will never be interested in me.”

Now Steve felt like he was talking in some sort of code. But maybe he wasn’t. Maybe Steve was just an idiot.

“Hey, don’t say that. It’s always possible. You have a lot of good qualities that I think anyone would be attracted to. Even cheerleaders.”

Eddie bit his lip, his eyes dipping down. “Yeah, right. I’m the Freak, remember? There are some things that’ll be out of reach no matter how badly I want them.”

Steve reached out and wrapped a hand around Eddie’s arm. “Dude, no, that’s not true. You’re weird, but also like, really hot. I guarantee if any cheerleader saw you up on that stage like I did tonight, they’d totally be throwing themselves at you.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth quirked up. “You think I’m hot, Stevie?”

Heat bloomed in Steve’s face, but he fought back the embarrassed retort he wanted to throw back at the other boy. “I mean, yeah, I have eyes don’t I? I’m sure even you can recognize a hot guy when you see one.”

Eddie tossed his head back and laughed, his eyes crinkling in a way that made something soften in Steve’s chest. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I can recognize a hot guy. I mean, you are standing right next to me.”

Steve’s face grew even hotter. God, he must be bright red. He huffed and shoved Eddie’s shoulder playful. “Oh shut up. I was being serious.”

“So was I,” Eddie said, batting his lashes.

Which, huh. Why did he suddenly have butterflies in his stomach? He’d fake flirted with friends before, but none of that had ever had any sort of effect on him. Maybe his brain was getting confused, considering Eddie had long hair and big doe eyes. Yeah, that must be it.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”

“Aww, don’t flatter me, Stevie.”

Eddie continued grinning until his eyes landed back on the girls across the bar. It dropped then, and he shifted slightly away from Steve.

“But, um, really. If you want to go for those girls feel free. I’m not going to stop you.”

He sounded slightly dejected, as if he was sure Steve was going to ditch him to get laid. And maybe the old Steve would have. But he wanted to be done with that. He didn’t need another one night stand that would end with him being just as alone as when he started. That wasn’t what he’d come out for.

“No thanks. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “But, Steve—”

“Dude, stop. I’m serious. I only suggested it before because I thought you might be into it. I was trying to be a bro, you know? But I came out here tonight for you. So if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to hang out for a while more.”

For several seconds, all Eddie did was stare. There was something a little lost about his eyes, as if he were searching for something he couldn’t find. Finally, to Steve’s relief, Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, okay Stevie. I’d like that too.”

Steve brought up his beer to clink against Eddie’s. “Then it’s settled.”

*****

Much to Eddie’s shock and elation, the night was going better than he could ever have hoped. Steve had come to his show, and what’s more, he had stayed. He actually liked it. Well, okay, maybe he didn’t love the music. But that was even better, because it meant that he like Eddie. Even if it wasn’t in the way he wanted him to like him, it was something.

And god, Steve was so fucking sweet. He hadn’t anticipated that in the beginning, yet here they were. When he leaned in to talk to Eddie, or to listen as he rambled, there was something so open and caring about it. Like he really, truly cared what Eddie had to say. It was fucking addicting. He could already tell he was going to crave this, this attention and admiration, as if it were a physical drug. It was dangerous.

But it was too late to stop. He could already feel it in his bones. Eddie had always been one to lean into his vices, to allow them to guide his actions. It was why he was so careful. He never did anything harder than weed, and when he drank, he stuck to beer. But Steve was inside that wall now, and Eddie had no plan of kicking him out. Why would he, when it made him feel so good?

Yeah, okay, he knew the reason he should. Because it wasn’t always going to feel like this. Eventually he’d have to come down from this high, and when he did, it was going to hurt. But that was a problem for future Eddie. Because present Eddie was basking in the glow of Steve’s laugh, delighting in the soft touch from those long fingers.

“Dude, that’s crazy. There’s no way you did that.”

“I did!” Eddie insisted. “I showed up in full costume and everything.”

Steve shook his head, pretty brown eyes catching on Eddie’s. “You’re insane, man.”

“That’s what people keep telling me.”

They were technically still sitting at the table with the rest of Hellfire, but the others had moved on to their own conversations an hour ago after it became clear that Steve and Eddie were only interested in talking to each other. Steve was angled toward him, their knees bumping against each other under the table. And no, Eddie was not obsessing over that fact, thank you. He was being normal tonight. Well, as normal as he could be.

“Ew, gross, don’t do that!” Steve cried when Eddie licked up his spilt beer from the table. “You have no idea what’s been on there.”

Eddie shrugged. “My tongue has been worse places.”

He didn’t think that was necessarily true, but it got Steve to blush, so it was worth it. Eddie was pretty sure he would do anything to keep getting that look.

“Dude, you’re going to catch some incurable virus.”

Eddie looked away. Yeah, alright, that hit too close to home. He cleared his throat. “Don’t you worry about me, Steve. I’ll make sure to keep my cooties away from you.”

“Oh shut up, you know that’s not what I meant. Sorry for not wanting your tongue to fall off.”

“Hmm, thinking a lot about my tongue, aren’t you?”

Steve rolled his eyes all the way around in his head. “You’re insufferable. I’m going to go out for a cigarette, you want to come?”

Eddie shrugged, as if he was ever going to say no. “Yeah, sure.”

He motioned to his friends that he was going to follow Steve, but they barely paid him any mind as they waved him off. Which, rude. Outside was cold, the biting February air stinging his cheeks as he leaned up against the side of the building beside Steve. He watched as the flame lit Steve’s face in shadows, dying down as the embers of the cigarette caught. Steve took a long drag before holding it out for Eddie. Which, yeah, he could totally be normal about. So what if Steve’s mouth had just been wrapped around it? So what if this felt a little bit like an indirect kiss? Fuck, he was such a freak. He took the cigarette and pressed it between his lips. Hopefully Steve would chalk his shaking fingers up to the cold.

“Hey, thanks again for inviting me out tonight. It was fun.”

Eddie rolled his head to the side, giving Steve a small smile. “No problem. Just returning the favor since you asked me out to eat last week. And I had fun too, for the record.”

Steve looked pleased at that. “Good. I’m glad.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, just trading the cigarette back and forth. Each time Eddie took a drag, he tried to see if he could taste Steve’s mouth. But if he could, then Steve’s mouth must taste like cigarettes. After a few minutes, Steve shook out his sleeve to look at his watch.

“Crap, I should probably head home. I have to pick up Dustin before school tomorrow.”

Eddie tried not to look disappointed. It’s not like he wasn’t going to see him again. “Yeah, makes sense. I’ll probably head out soon too. Want me to walk you to your car?”

Steve snorted. “My car is literally right there.”

“Yeah, but,” Eddie said with a smirk. “You never know what ruffians might be hiding around the corner, just waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting damsel.”

“Damsel?” Steve asked, narrowing his eyes. “I thought I was a knight.”

“Oh, don’t worry big boy, you are. I was referring to me.”

Steve tossed his head back in a laugh, his whole body shaking with it. Shit. Why was he so pretty? It wasn’t fair. Eddie had never stood a chance. When Steve finally looked back to Eddie, his face was still soft with laughter.

“Yeah, alright Munson. Walk with me to my car.”

It was a little silly, considering Steve’s car was only parked around thirty feet from where they’d been standing. As they approached, Eddie stepped forward and dropped into a low bow, holding his arm out.

“Your chariot, Sir Steven.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but much to Eddie’s delight, tilted forward in his own bow. “Why thank you, Sir Edward.”

Butterflies erupted inside Eddie, their tiny wings swirling up from his gut and into his throat, threatening to choke him. He coughed and straightened up, masking the sudden rush of emotion with a wide grin.

“Oh, I’m no knight. Too much of a coward, me. I’m more suited as the court jester. Maybe a bard.”

“Hmm.” Steve’s eyes roamed over the expanse of Eddie’s body. God, he hoped it was too dark for him to see how that made Eddie blush. “I don’t know about that. I bet if it came down to it, you could be pretty damn brave.”

Shit, shit, shit. Abort. If this pretty, straight boy kept looking at him like that… Well, he was going to do something very stupid. Eddie stepped back.

“I think you need glasses, Steve-o.”

He began to walk away, to escape to the safety of the bar, when Steve called out again. “Hey, Eddie?”

His body stiffened, but he turned back to Steve. Because of course he did. “Yeah?”

Suddenly, Steve looked a little nervous. He’d gotten the car door open and was leaning against it, the dim neon light from the sign over the bar illuminating his face.

“I actually wanted to ask if you want to come over this Saturday. If you have nothing else going on, that is. I figured I could rent a movie and we could order in a pizza. Drink a few beers. Only if you want.”

And shit, Steve looked so nervous and hopeful. How was Eddie supposed to do anything besides exactly what Steve asked of him? He smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’m in.”

Steve’s whole face lit up, and Eddie knew he was in serious trouble. Because there was no doubt in his mind that he would do absolutely anything to make him look like that again. Damn it.

“Awesome! You want to come over around, say, five?”

“Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

He walked back inside after that, warm all over despite the cold. Eddie was still smiling like an idiot when he approached the table, which he realized too late had gone quiet as all eyes turned to watch him. He dropped into a chair and looked up, eyes darting to each of his friends.

“What?”

“Sooo that went well?” Josie asked, though it felt more like a statement.

Eddie nodded, trying and failing to hide his grin. “Yeah, it did. He loved the band.”

Mic scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, the band, sure. As if he didn’t have moon eyes, staring at you like that.”

“No, stop that,” Eddie said, burying his face into his hand. “He’s straight.”

Jeff hummed. “I’m not sure about that now. He seemed, like, singularly interested in you. I mean, he stared at you the entire night.”

And the thing was, Eddie wanted that to be true. He wanted to let his friends join him in his delusions. It would make all of this so easy. To fall into the fantasy of someone like Steve wanting someone like him. But he couldn’t. Because once he allowed that, it would make him hope. And once he began to hope, that was the beginning of the end.

“Yeah, sorry to bust your bubble guys, but that’s not true. He literally suggested we go hook up with two of the girls by the pool table. So, no. He’s not interested in me like that.”

His friends each shared another look.

“I don’t know,” Grant said. “Maybe he did that to try and gauge your interest.”

God damnit. No. “Guys, no, stop. Please. We’re friends. That’s all. We’re just… hanging out. And I want to keep hanging out with him, which I won’t be able to do if I let this stupid crush fester. I’m going over to his house again this Saturday, and I’ll prove to you that this is just friendship.”

Eddie was studiously looking at the table while he spoke, so he didn’t see the identical expressions of shock that cross all his friends faces. It wasn’t until the silence stretched on for just a little too long that he looked back up.

“What? Why are you all staring at me like that?”

Gareth leaned forward on the table, giving Eddie a dubious look. “You said you’re going to his house this Saturday?”

Jesus, these assholes needed to learn how to listen. “Yeah, so?”

“Dude.” Gareth shook his head. “This Saturday is Valentine’s Day.”

A cold spike of shock shot through Eddie, followed immediately by an intense rush of heat. Valentines Day. Steve had invited him over to hang out, alone, on Valentines Day. Steve Harrington, notorious lady killer and school slut, wanted to spend the day with him. Well. Shit.

#steddie #steddie au #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #My writing #These boys are only going to get stupider before they get it together

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lemoncrushh · 6 months

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The Entertainer - Track 02 - Looks Like Rain

Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.

STORY PAGE

Track 02 Word Count: 2.5k

“He likes you.”

“He does not.”

“Yes, he does.”

“Likes me. What are we, twelve?”

Halo scoffed. “Then why do you think he keeps coming over with Mitch?”

“For the free beer and pot.”

“Gimme a break, would you? He likes you.”

“He hasn’t even tried to kiss me, Halo!”

“Have you tried to kiss him?”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?”

I stopped drying off the plate I was holding and gave her a dirty look.

“He sleeps on the couch.”

“So what? Go out there sometime and show him what he’s missing.”

I scowled, threw the dish towel on the counter, and walked out of the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Halo called. “We’re not done.”

“I am,” I plopped on the sofa and pouted.

“Sky,” Halo said, following me into the living room, “sometimes you have to make the first move if you wanna get laid.”

I looked up at her incredulously.

“Maybe I don’t wanna ‘get laid’,” I mimicked, using air quotes.

“Really? ‘Cause…he’s really fucking cute.”

“I know he is!” I shouted, throwing my head back and covering my face with my hands as I groaned.

“Then what’s the problem?”

I listened to my breathing until it slowed. Then dropping my hands, I opened my eyes and looked at Halo.

“He acts like I’m just one of the guys. We talk about music and all that, and honestly, I really love that, but…I just feel like he thinks of me as a pal.”

Halo glared at me for a minute before rolling her eyes.

“I still think he likes you.”

And with that she turned back to the kitchen to finish the dishes.

For the next two weeks, Harry spent more nights at my place than his own. I blamed it on the fact that Mitch was with Halo and that we’d stay up late and he didn’t feel like going home alone. But part of me wondered if there wasn’t another reason. I did consider Halo’s statement that Harry liked me, but I just couldn’t believe that was true. Not when he hadn’t done much more than lay his head on my shoulder. He did hug me after a show one night, but I chalked that up to joy and adrenaline.

One time when Harry stayed over after a night of beer drinking games, I woke up and had to pee really bad, so I tiptoed out of my room, sneaking a peek in the living room. I watched Harry sleep for a minute or two, admiring his calm face and the beauty of his shut eyelids before making my way to the bathroom. On my way back though, he stirred and rolled onto his side.

“Hi,” I heard him say, or at least I thought he did. I wondered if I’d imagined it when I whispered “hi” back, but got no other response, so I simply returned to my room and closed the door behind me.

The next Friday night, Wildfire was playing at The Troubadour. It was a big deal. Word had it that their demo was making the rounds and several record executives, producers and managers would be attending. Halo and I took on the job as honorary band promoters, which basically meant we were cheerleaders. It wasn’t hard to do. The band was on fire that night. I mean, they really lived up to their name.

I stood at the front, next to the stage, singing along to all the words since I knew them already. I caught Harry smiling at me a few times, which only made me all the more excited.

After the show, I followed Halo backstage where she was in Mitch’s lap within two seconds, even though he hadn’t even bothered to remove his sweaty shirt yet. I leaned against the wall trying my best not to watch them neck when I heard someone give a wolf howl behind me. Harry appeared with his arms held high, a beer in each hand.

“Rock and Roll!” he cheered. The rest of the band hollered.

“This is fuckin’ it, man!” exclaimed Lee. “That was the best show we’ve ever done! And at the fuckin’ Troubadour, man!”

The band continued to whoop and howl until Harry finally noticed me standing there, looking like a strange little wallflower with a crooked smile.

“Here you go, darlin’,” he held a beer out to me. “Let’s have a toast. To music. To this fuckin’…AMAZING BAND!”

Everyone cheered again and we clinked beer bottles, guzzling it down as fast as we could.

“Party at your place?” Harry raised a brow, pointing at me.

“Wh-well…I…”

“Yeah, let’s go!” squealed Halo, her arm around Mitch’s neck.

The rest of the crew followed them out of the dressing room, leaving me and Harry.

“I don’t think we have any more beer,” I commented.

Harry chuckled. “No worries, love. We’ll think of something.”

The party was in full swing before Harry even arrived. The band had to tear down and pack up their gear, so Halo and I stopped at the store and bought a few things. We didn’t really need to though. By the time we got home, a keg was being delivered. The rest of the band soon followed, but no Harry.

“He was talking to some guy when we left,” explained Lee. “He told us to go ahead, he’ll be along shortly.”

Shortly, however, turned into over an hour later. There was a loud bang at the door, and I rushed to open it, afraid it was a neighbor complaining about the noise, or worse, the cops. But it was Harry. He almost fell into me, his body swaying like a swinging door loose on its hinges.

“Hey!” he greeted with bloodshot eyes, his hand still on the door frame.

“Hey yourself,” I muttered, nearly catching him before I shut the door. He was clearly drunk. “How did you get here?”

“Don’t remember. Oh yeah. S’mebody gave me a ride.”

“And something else apparently.”

Harry held up a finger like he was going to protest, or at least explain himself, but then quickly dropped his hand. “Yeah.” Then he saw the display of liquor on the counter. “Oh hey, let’s do shots!”

“Um, Harry, I think maybe we should go this way. I can fix you some coffee. Or tea.”

Harry yanked his arm from my grasp and gave me a dirty look. I’d never seen him look at me that way before. It scared me.

“I said I want shots.” He walked around me toward the other side of the counter and began to pour brown liquor into a glass.

“But…don’t you think…”

Harry whirled around, stopping me in my tracks.

“Y’don’t fuckin’ own me! Alright? Y’don’t get to tell me what t’do!”

“O-okay.”

I couldn’t breathe for the lump in my throat as I watched Harry drink another shot, the alcohol not even affecting him. Then he grabbed the entire bottle and crossed the room. My chest felt like it was closing in, and I needed some fresh air. I made my way to the patio, shutting the sliding glass door behind me.

I took a few deep, much needed breaths as I stared out into the early morning sky. It wasn’t quite dawn yet, but the clouds told me there was most likely rain coming. Very fitting, because I felt like a big storm was brewing already.

I heard a burst of loud music and turned around suddenly to see Harry stepping onto the patio. He said nothing, merely glared at me, the sound of “Purple Haze” being muffled as he closed the sliding door. I stared at him as he stepped closer, gripping the handrail next to me. He swayed back and forth, and for a moment I wasn’t sure if he wasn’t going to try to jump over, throw up, or both.

“You okay?” I finally asked, my concern never faltering.

“Fine. Just needed some air.”

“Me too.”

We were both quiet until I took another deep breath.

“I like when the sky’s like this,” I commented.

“It’s grey,” said Harry sharply. “Looks like rain.”

“I know. That’s why I like it. It’s like my name.”

“I didn’t think that was your real name.”

I could detect the tone in his voice and knew without looking at him that he was not being curious, but rather mocking me. I played it cool.

“It’s not my birth name, no. But I think it fits me better than any other name I could’ve been given, don’t you? It’s because of my eyes,” I explained, turning to face him. I urged him to look at me…hoping he’d notice and give me one of his smiles that I liked so much. “The color of them. They’re like a cloudy sky just before the rain.”

Harry scoffed and shook his head. “Some lad you fancied told you that?”

I froze in my spot, simultaneously wanting to punch him and cry and run away. Why was he being so mean?

“No,” I replied, my bottom lip trembling. “Halo came up with it. I thought it sounded pretty.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to go inside.

I think if the door hadn’t opened a few minutes later, I would have eventually started crying. But I’d been trying to hold myself together, willing myself not to let some stupid guy get to me. Not some dumb musician who’d been sleeping on my couch and drinking all my beer. I wiped my eyes of the nonexistent tears and turned around.

“Oh, you scared me!” I exclaimed when I noticed it was Halo.

“Sorry. What are you doing out here?” She joined me at the railing, pretending like she was watching the clouds with me, but I knew better.

“Please don’t say I’m a hypocrite, Halo.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t be in there with him.”

“Who? Harry?”

I nodded. “He took something, I think. Before he showed up. He’s acting…different.”

“Really? What do you think he’s on?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t like him like that.”

Halo turned around, leaning her back against the railing. “Why would I think you’re a hypocrite?”

I side-eyed her.

“We smoke pot, Sky,” she rolled her eyes. “That’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. And we’ve done ‘shrooms a few times. It’s no big deal. Cocaine isn’t even a big deal anymore.”

“I don’t think he’s high on coke,” I declared. “He’s…kinda mean. I offered to make him some coffee and he told me I don’t own him.”

“So he’s being a dick tonight,” shrugged Halo. “He’s probably just high on adrenaline and being cocky.”

“No…it’s not that.”

Halo sighed, pressing her lips together.

“I don’t think Harry does hard drugs, Sky.”

I furrowed my brows. “How do you know?”

“I just do. Something Mitch told me.”

“Halo!”

She sighed again. “Okay. I gotta tell you something, but swear you won’t tell Harry I told you.”

“What is it?”

“Swear?”

“Okay, I swear!”

“Harry’s best friend, Simon, was Wildfire’s original lead guitarist. He died a year and a half ago. He overdosed on heroin.”

I dropped my jaw, speechless.

“Mitch said Harry took it hard, wouldn’t talk to anybody for nearly a month. He said he never did anything as hard as heroin, but he’s sworn off all hard drugs. Music’s most important to him, so he doesn’t feel like he needs that, you know?”

“Then why?” I wondered aloud. “Why is he acting like he is?”

“Maybe he’s just really drunk. Maybe some record exec bought him some drinks after we left and he’s toasted. Just…try not to take it personally, alright? He’ll sleep it off on our sofa and be the same ol’ Harry again tomorrow.”

I blinked hard, trying my best to understand and agree with her. She patted me on the arm and stood up straight.

“I’m going back inside, okay? Do you need anything?”

“No. I’m just gonna hang out here for a few more minutes.”

Halo gave me a tight, understanding smile and returned to the party. I sighed. Maybe she was right. It was nearly sunup and Harry would probably be crashed on my couch soon enough.

Deciding to rejoin the party myself, I opened the door and was hit with the smell of marijuana. It was a scent I knew all too well, and I found my tension easing up already. Most of the rest of the party was sitting in a circle in the middle of the room, a joint being passed around. Harry sat in a chair, his eyes heavy yet focused on something straight ahead - me. He looked like Jim Morrison sitting there, his arms slung over the arms of the chair, his hair falling around his face, framing it like some rock god. The radio played Gary Glitter and for a moment I was trapped in a fantasy in my head.

“We’ve been here too long tryin’ to get along Pretending that you’re oh so shy I’m a natural man doin’ all I can My temperature is runnin’ high”

“Hey mate,” I heard Deacon say. “You want another hit?”

“No,” replied Harry, his eyes still on me. Then he lifted his hand and pointed. “I want her.”

What? My eyes about popped out of my head as I felt everyone else’s eyes on me. A smirk grew on Harry’s mouth as he turned his hand over and beckoned me with his finger.

“Do you wanna touch (yeah!) Do you wanna touch (yeah!) Do you wanna touch me there”

No! I mean…yeah…I mean…

I shook my head, my hair falling over my eyes as I ran for my bedroom and slammed the door. I fell face down on my bed, Gary Glitter’s (and probably Harry’s) question ringing in my ears. And although I knew in truth that they weren’t, I could swear I heard the sound of everyone laughing at me.

I dozed in and out of sleep for the next couple of hours. I heard the front door closing a few times, people saying their goodbyes. I heard Halo knocking on my door.

“Sky? Sky! Please come out. Everyone’s leaving. Don’t you wanna say goodbye?”

“Sky! Please. If you’re not coming out, then let me in.”

“Okay, fine. Harry’s sorry. He says he’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sky? Are you asleep?”

I finally opened the door around seven in the morning to go to the bathroom. The inevitable rain had come and was pelting against the window and the glass door to the patio. Harry was sprawled out on the sofa, his bare feet hanging over the side as usual. And as usual, he looked peaceful. I took a detour to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin, leaving them on the coffee table.

When I awoke the next afternoon, Harry was gone, but he’d left me a note. At the top, he’d drawn three scribbly rain clouds.

Sky ~

I’m sorry. That wasn’t me. I’ll explain tomorrow.

H x

Songs mentioned:

Jimi Hendrix - Purple Haze

Gary Glitter - Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah!)

Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is love x.

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thebirdandthebee · 2 years

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Easy As

A/N: I don’t know, I just liked this gif haha. I know we’re all pumped for JAW winning his first Golden Globe! This is lightly inspired after I got an ask for Carmy winning an award. This doesn’t have smut, but it is VERY fluffy! Also, no giveaways at gender of baby Berzatto if anyone has guesses :)

That being said, I am taking requests for this series again!

Vanessa Monaghan is the breath of fresh air that Carmen had been gasping for.

Page 29: Beard

“My love are you almost ready?” Vanessa called, putting in her diamond earrings as a finishing touch. She turned in the mirror to take in the final look. Though Carmen was insisting it wasn’t as big of a deal as she was making it out to be, Vanessa knew how big of a deal the James Beard Awards were.

Carmen was nominated for Best Chef: Great Lakes and if he won tonight, he’d be one of the few in history to win Best Emerging Chef and a Best Chef designation.

It was also a great reason to take a trip, with the awards taking place in New York – one of Vanessa’s favorite cities. Carmen had less fond memories of the Big Apple, but he was grateful Vanessa was here with him. Honestly, he’d much rather skip the event all together.

Vanessa sprung for a hair and makeup team to help put her together. After all, at six months pregnant, sometimes doing her hair took too much energy. Old Hollywood waves with kohl-lined eyes and red lips to top it all off would definitely be too much to do on her own. Just getting into her red velvet dress was effort enough. It was fitted across the middle to show off her baby bump with a sweetheart neckline, which Carmen appreciated as each passing months it felt like her breasts grew bigger and bigger.

“I need help with this thing,” she could hear him murmur as he walked back toward the bathroom suite.

“Carmen you look so handsome,” she smiled, clicking toward him in her heels that put her about two inches taller than him. Carmen looked up from the mangled bowtie around his neck and gave his wife the same look as when she walked down the aisle.

“Ness, you – you’re stunning,” he complimented. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of. As she stepped in his personal space to properly tie his bowtie, his hand slid naturally over her form, one landing on her waist the other on her baby bump.

“It might be silly of me to ask, but there is food at this thing, right?” She tilted her head.

“There’s not dinner,” Carmen shook his head. “There’ll be hors d’oeuvres but there ceremony itself is only an hour long. We can order some food up when we get back,” he assured.

“Good, we’re starving,” Vanessa said, sliding his bowtie into place. “God you look good in a tux,” she complimented, making him grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” he said earnestly, leaning forward to peck her lips just lightly enough that it wouldn’t muss her red lips.

“I love when you get to wear your real ring,” she said, holding his hand and running a finger across his gold wedding band, which was usually replaced by his silicone work bands. “Like it actually is making me a little horny,” she added, but then again, pretty much everything did in her second trimester.

“Really?” Carmen asked, brows pushing up his forehead.

“Come on, don’t let me tempt you – you have an award to win,” she said, “and our car should be here any moment.”

Carmen dutifully lead his wife, grabbing the car door and holding her hand as they pulled up to the historic theater the ceremony was being held inside.

“How do I look?” Vanessa asked, standing at the end of the red carpet.

“Incredible,” Carmen replied. “Ready?” He asked as the coordinator ushered them in front of the step and repeat. It wasn’t a crazy paparazzi-filled stretch, but there were a handful of photographers there.

Vanessa stayed close to Carmen who proudly placed his left hand on her baby bump.

“This is way more fun than walking at graduation,” Vanessa said, looking at her husband who smirked with a small laugh. She decided in that moment she’d buy each and every photo taken of them that night.

It was fun for Carmen to catch up and see some familiar faces from his days living in New York, at least, the ones he enjoyed seeing.

He knew he wasn’t going to win Best Chef tonight anyway, so he just wanted to make sure that Vanessa enjoyed the evening and there was nothing more she loved than meeting new people.

“When are you due?” Miles Regent, a chair member of the foundation who awarded Carmen his first James Beard medal six years ago asked.

“Valentine’s Day,” Carmen replied proudly.

“Congratulations, Carmen, seems like you’ve got it all,” Miles, an older man with a perfectly groomed beard winked.

“I do,” Carmen countered, smiling as he remembered his fortune.

“Baby, do you know where we’re sitting?” Vanessa asked as the lights in the theater dimmed as a warning.

“Uh yeah, they put the nominees in a specific spot,” he said, looking around for the signage.

“I can’t wait to take these shoes off,” Vanessa said as she walked alongside her husband, who found their table and pulled out her chair.

“Want me to get you a bite to eat quick?” He offered, to which she nodded with complete adoration in her eyes. Carmen darted off toward the refreshments as music began to play, and by the time he came back with a small plate of pregnancy-friendly treats, Vanessa had already made friends with everyone else at their table.

Carmen took the time used by the presenters to talk about the Foundation and history of the awards to study Vanessa’s hand that he kept in his lap. He admired her wedding ring, her freshly manicured nails and the little veins that ran from her palm up her arm. He also was glad to take a bite of any of the hors d’oeuvres she couldn’t finish for one reason or another. He thought the food was actually pretty spectacular and made a note to as Miles who catered the event. How do you pick a caterer for a room full of the best chefs in America?

Then, the awards began. Best Emerging Chef, Outstanding Chef, Outstanding Restaurant... and on and on. Vanessa was making a mental list of all the places she wanted to visit after baby arrived.

Before they knew it, they were calling the category Carmen was nominated in was being presented. His division included chefs from Illinois, Indiana, Michigan and Ohio.

“The 2024 Best Chef: Great Lakes is Carmen Berzatto,” the presenter read off the card. Vanessa’s head whipped around to face her husband who looked equally as stunned. He impulsively stood up, his legs acting on their own accord and Vanessa followed, giving him a big hug and a soft kiss to his cheek – both of them a little shocked.

“Get up there!” She giggled, eyes wide. He nodded, still in complete surprise. The presenter elaborated as he found his bearing.

Carmen Berzatto is only the second chef to be named both Best Emerging Chef and Best Chef in the history of the foundation.

Carmen made his way to the stage, standing at the podium as the medal was slipped around his neck. Now, he had to say something.

“Wow, not to sound cliché but I really was no expecting this,” his fingers grazed the medal which sat not too far below his collarbone. “Of course I would not be up where without the work of my amazing team at The Bear, it’s entirely a group effort,” he began. “When we changed my family’s restaurant over from what we’d been doing for fifty years to something entirely new, I don’t think in our wildest dreams we’d reach something like this,” he said honestly, “we mostly just needed to stay in business,” he added, earning a laugh from the crowd. Vanessa’s eyes flooded with tears. She was so proud of her husband she was sure she could take flight.

“This is entirely impossible without my beautiful wife who is patient, understanding, encouraging and supports me endlessly, no matter what,” he said, barely finding Vanessa’s gaze from under the stage lights. “I think anyone here can understand what it’s like in this industry and the demands it makes on us, but also our families, and she’s my partner in everything I do – there is no me without her.” Vanessa let out a wet laugh. “Thank you,” he said simply before being applauded off the stage.

As the next presenter took the stage for the final award of the night, Carmen appeared from beside the table, hastily taking his seat with his medal still around his neck. The moment he was settled in his seat, Vanessa pounced with a big, firm kiss.

“Carmen,” she said with wide eyes. “What just happened?” she whispered aggressively, a wild smile on her face.

“I have no idea,” Carmen whispered back, their hands clasped together. Thankfully, there was only one more award for the night and soon the ceremony came to a close. However, everyone wanted a piece of Carmen as the scheduled agenda wrapped up.

He did his best to accommodate those who approached him, shaking lots of hands and forgetting many names, but being as gracious as possible nonetheless. Soon, however, he could tell Vanessa was powering through and he wanted to get her back to the hotel.

Carmen, from across the room, encountered a familiar face. Not a friendly face, but familiar nonetheless. His former director who lived and died to make Carmen’s life fucking miserable.

He gave Carmen a smile, which was not returned. And as soon as Carmen made eye contact, he broke it again, ushering his wife out of the front door to where a car was already waiting to take them back to their hotel.

Vanessa let out a scream of excitement as soon as the car door closed behind Carmen.

“You did it!” She laughed, “Carmen! Congratulations!” She squeezed his hands in hers. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I can’t believe it,” he laughed, thoughts of his former director already banished from his mind.

“I can!” Vanessa insisted, scooting closer to him as the car pulled away from the theater. “I’m so happy for you, you earned this,” she said, kissing him again.

They bribed their driver to stop by a by-the-slice pizza spot where Carmen loaded up a box with all kinds of options and a fistful of cannoli.

“I don’t think it gets any better than this,” Vanessa smiled, laying back on their plush hotel bed in her plush hotel robe, double-fisting two pieces of pizza beside Carmen.

“I think it will get a little better,” Carmen reminded, sliding his hand over her belly.

“Okay, fair,” she giggled, making him smile. They shared a comfortable silence as they ate their pizza.

“Last time I won a James Beard,” Carmen spoke up. “I was so fucking miserable,” he said quietly, tearing off a piece of crust. “I was leaving Madison Park – not sleeping, living off of Xanax, cigarettes and kitchen scraps,” he listed off, Vanessa listening intently, slowly shifting to lay on her side and face him fully. “I hated waking up, hated going to work, hated leaving work, hated going to bed,” he tallied, “and I was sure that was as good as it was ever going to get. I was being rewarded for living the most miserable life.”

Vanessa reached over, resting her hand on his bicep.

“I guess I didn’t think I could do this while also being happy,” he said sincerely. “I meant what I said, Ness,” he scooted a little closer, turning so they were nestled closely, sharing a pillow. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been – sometimes I forget how hard shit was before you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Vanessa smiled softly.

“You’re a star, Carmen,” she replied gently. “I feel fortunate just to be in your galaxy,” she pecked his lips. “We love you so much,” she added, gently grasping his hand and setting it on the bump.

“You make all my dreams come true,” he said, thumb rubbing back and forth over her little belly.

“Do you know what would be a dream come true for me?” She asked, taking advantage of her captive audience. “If I can have that last cannoli.” Carmen laughed, loudly and carefree before acquiescing to his wife’s demand.

“Anything for you, Ness.”

#Carmy #carmy smut #carmen smut #carmen x oc #Carmen Berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #Carmen berzatto x ofc #carmen berzatto x oc #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fan fic #carmen berzatto fan fic #Jeremy Allen White #jeremy allen white is HOT #congrats JAW!

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loverockawaitsyou · 2 years

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Fanfic Snippet: Cameron Crowe Asks Pearl Jam to Headline the Singles Premiere Party

NOTE: I’m working on the second act of my long-form fanfic. For the story, I wanted to explore the big “WHAT IF?” of the infamous Singles Premiere Party, which was the ***BIRTH OF NO.*** according to Pearl Jam. Little footage of it exists, so I wanted to create a whole scenario of what happened through the perspective of my OCs.

Additionally, I am now playing with switching POVs. The majority of my story is in first person, through the eyes of my main OC, but occasionally, I’ll switch to third person to detail what’s going on with the boys!

This is part of a longer chapter in progress. For the full work so far, here is the link: STATE OF LOVE AND DISTRUST

MEANWHILE, IN A STATE FAR AWAY FROM CALIFORNIA

“Absolutely NOT. That is one of our only days off, Cameron! I need to chill. We all need to chill. We’re tired as it is. This tour schedule has been kickin’ our asses! I need some fuckin’ sleep.”

Jeff and the rest of the members of Pearl Jam circled around a corded phone, which rested on a messy coffee table littered with snack wrappers, cigarette butts, and empty beer bottles. The guys had attempted to unwind after another chaotic concert, but they were met with a not-so-welcome call.

They all stared at the phone as if it was a grenade that needed to be tossed outside. The atmosphere in the room was tense, as the band members were trying to think of what to say, but they struggled to find the words.

Jeff stood with his hands on his hips, frowning down on the phone, as if he wanted Cameron to see his disdain. Stone was sitting on the couch, leaning forward, with his hands clasped together. His eyes were closed, in contemplation. The rest of the guys were splayed on two couches, Eddie laying down with his arms folded, and his boots leaving dirt crumbles on the fabric. Dave was twiddling his thumbs, and Mike was sitting on an armrest rubbing his legs nervously.

Cameron paused for a moment, then continued to talk on the speaker.

“Come on you guys. This will be a great promo for the movie! The studio almost shelved this thing, but you're the reason it’s getting so much attention. It won’t be the same if you don’t come! We need a headliner! Nirvana wants nothing to do with it!”

“We already have to perform for MTV, and we’ll have to deal with them two nights in a row? I’m not down with that,” said Mike. “It’s too much man.”

Eddie sat up furiously on the couch and shouted at the phone, “Everyone wants something from us! Everybody LOVES us, but do they really like us? I doubt it.”

Jeff calmed down a bit. “I mean, we try to say yes to everything, but we can’t. We’re so grateful for all of this. We really are. This is what we’ve been working towards for almost 10 years. We do try Cameron, but there’s so much going on. We can’t do it all.”

Eddie grumbled in agreement then lay back down and continued to fold his arms and shake his shoes. Cameron gave a hefty groan through the phone.

“Guys. I know it’s short notice. I could have never predicted this whole thing was going to happen. This whole ‘Grunge’ trend is outrageous, and I agree with you. It’s stupid--the most foolish thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s a big, crazy hype machine. I want no part of any of that. I made this movie because I love Seattle and I love the community, and I care about everyone in it, especially you guys. You KNOW my intentions came from a good place. After what happened…with Andy… I thought it was important to make this movie and share it. PLEASE.”

“Fucking Sub Pop,” growled Stone.

Cameron continued, “This is the LAST push to make people see the movie. We need it to be a box office success. After this, the circus is over.”

“Hold on Cameron,” Jeff said as he hit the mute button on the phone. He rubbed his forehead in frustration, the towel on his head slipping off.

Stone leaned back on the couch in defeat, and he ran his hand over his fresh buzz cut. He exhaled, a solemn look on his face.

“You know, maybe we should do it,” Stone said. “Cameron is practically family. We just need to do the show and it’s all over, and we can get back to focusing on the tour and the new record.”

Dave, attempting to lighten the mood said, “It’s a movie premiere. We don’t have to play a full set. Just a couple songs and we can have a little fun after. It’s a Hollywood party! It can’t be that bad.”

The guys agreed slightly, then continued to deliberate for a couple more minutes.

After deliberating, the band huddled around the phone, with Stone taking it off of the mute setting.

“Hey Cameron, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

Stone crouched down, and put his face next to the phone speaker in order to make sure Cameron had no trouble hearing what he had to say.

“We discussed it, and we’ll do it.”

“Oh, thank you so much, guys. You have no idea how much this means to me,” said Cameron after a sigh of relief.

“But wait,” interjected Stone. “Understand. We are doing this because you’re our friend and we love the Seattle community too. We’ve got your back. We don’t give a fuck about the corporate overlords that put you up to this. This is not about them. Fuck MTV. Fuck Warner Brothers. Fuck the whole lot of LA leeches. To hell with ‘em.”

Jeff spoke up, “Yeah. As soon as our set is over, we’re out.”

“Understood,” said Cameron. “Just play a couple songs on camera. That’s all I need.”

After a few more words, Cameron hung up. When Cameron was gone, the guys looked at the phone, and then each other, unsure of what they’d gotten themselves into.

“If anything bad happens, we’ll say it’s your fault Stone,” said Eddie.

Stone couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious.

#pearl jam #fanfic #writing #eddie vedder #stone gossard #jeff ament #mike mccready #dave abbruzzese #mtv #singles #90s #grunge #cameron crowe #fan fiction #ao3

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stubborn-society · 2 years

Text

Liminal Show Business

The Live Music Ecosystem and Preserving The Underground

I mean…it was bound to happen. Live music has been terminally ill for a long time. Industry leaders either lack the awareness to see the fault in their failed standards, or they’re market testing for development that will push imprecise solutions using poorly interpreted data. And it couldn’t be happening at a worse time. This is the first time in my living memory that we’re seeing such a heavy crop of new artists with this high level of public visibility. They're keen on transitioning their fan base from online to the real world™, but with infrastructure too feeble to support them. Blame the pandemic if you want, but I think we can credit long-term, coordinated oversight for the blundering stew we have today.

15 years ago it should have been harder for artists to get a start, but it was easy. You linked with bands on Myspace, you asked friends, and you emailed a tiny venue that had shows almost every night. If your music was a match and you had an okay reference, they responded more often than not. These places weren’t obsessed with nightly attendance, market segments, or taking a cut of merch sales. They didn’t need to worry about that because they were the social hub, and did a decent to excellent job of curating a good time. People would likely show up just to be around people they wanted to be around. It was about culture, not status (at least not the way it is now). If your music was great, sick. If it wasn’t, big deal. You’re not blacklisted. Just put a good bill together next time, be reasonable, and don’t hog the prime spot. All your favorite artists publicly sucked at some point. Trust me, I saw a lot of them.

That spirit is critically endangered. We are severely lacking fertile space to be a public beginner, which only makes it more difficult for artists to develop to higher levels. Alternative venues and dive bars are prospected as vacant spaces by investors. The Ghost Ship fire in 2016 brought an almost predatory level of visibility to the social values of DIY; correspondingly, en masse underground culture has suffered nearly irreversible scorn in the public eye. The aftermath of that tragedy was so defaming, many felt hamstrung into accepting the deterioration of public privacy and heightened vigilance, with little time to analyze and oppose the consequent obsession with superficial respectability and reputation. Frankly, it was already too late. The tenuousness of DIY was on the mainstream’s radar. Punk negligence spawned an age of enlightenment for real estate developers and other plutocratic bodhisattvas. Little did the music industry realize that what probably seemed like a boon at first would eventually unravel its way up to major tour cancellations and a completely unsustainable industry sector.

And now no one will book you. Talent buyers would rather bleed out for some no-name because a dude doing “serious business” with a teamwass.com address is behind the semi-gloss request (no offense, just making a point). The music might not be interesting enough to justify the ticket price, but at least they’re not amateurs. Besides, kowtow to a Wasserman unknown, and someday they might send more beloved artists to your croaking, overpriced Iowa venue. Coddle the unknown street urchin in the Honda Fit with a gmail account, and you’ll be Loser HQ forever. One sour note becomes a meme dripping in damning metadata. Too risky. So that’ll be a no, young Kendrick Lamar, you can’t book here on a Wednesday. Picture saying no to the sheer audacity of some dirty flop star called Madonna. Disgusting. We don’t do that here.

So the question remains: who will?

A few days ago, I came across a video of an “expert panel” praising alternative venues. Basement shows. We must bring back DIY. Of course, but bring it back? It reeks of scanty detail recollection. And hold on. An industry panel. Talking about DIY. Why on earth would something like this be happening? After reading the sales-funnel-y, self-congratulatory responses in the comments, I realized the post was from a tech company we’ll just call “Michael Maus Clubb”. MMC is a burgeoning new platform that aspires to be, in one super-reductive sentence, the AirBnb of DIY music. With many music venues allegedly closing (I haven’t actually seen proof of this writ large, but sure) and surviving talent buyers having very little duty to art itself, independent artists are left with fewer options to book themselves. Michael Maus Clubb promotes their platform as a way to boost profits with services like ticketing for house shows and connecting a vibrant community of artists and event hosts. My immediate response was a major “pass lol” gag reflex, but I’m a professional, so I did my research. My conclusion? I’m neither a full proponent nor a full opponent. If you stumble upon a company model that resembles Michael Maus Clubb’s, I encourage you to carefully draw your own conclusion.

My issue with this model is that, rather than addressing the problems endemic to the live music industry, MMC aims to leverage the problem by “legitimizing” DIY. I will concede that some aspects of their service may be beneficial for certain types of live events (ex: 200+ cap, one-off warehouse parties/concerts, small shows in a brick-and-mortar business). It isn’t altogether useless in experienced hands. But that definitely does not mean we should give unbridled support or data access to a business that’s essentially infiltrating a cottage industry within a very small community to skim a profit. The long-term consequences of allowing DIY to become an earnings-based endeavor do more to infect and almost nothing to cure the problems created by this mindset in the first place. And I haven’t even mentioned how little the platform can account for re: legitimacy, experience, and safety. Anyone can register as a host. Anyone. The most important credo of DIY booking is alarmingly absent here - trust. You seriously thought we just showed up at some unknown interloper’s house? Only the most creme de la clueless industry sponger would overlook something that basic. I would never, ever let a client book a tour this way. Seriously, are you out of your mind?

To be ultra clear, on principle, DIY does not have the problem. This is a mainstream industry problem and it needs to stay that way. The boundary between these two cultures has always been intentional; blurring the lines is nowhere close to a solution. Have aggressive, anti-capitalist values in DIY unwittingly exploited working artists? Occasionally, for certain. Is the solution creating dependency on an outside platform that has no vetting process and takes a 10% commission and tacks on service charges for a basement show? I beg your pardon, you raving lunatic. The problem is certainly not that basement shows don’t cost $27 and aren’t ticketed. The problem is the unmitigated greed, lack of empathy, and myopic business practices of the bigger guys. Don’t turn that into a “we” problem. Get outta here. Even suggesting upwards of $30 for a house show is absolute psychopathy. It smears the infection of ineptitude onto even more amateur hands, and frankly, sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

My point is this: Services cost money; solutions can be free.

Small and mid-size venues can do this for zero dollars:

Book better music more regularly. Hire someone to handle booking who has good taste and is proactive, responsible, and understands what a cheap, good time is. You’re grabbing for everything because you’re not curating for a built-in crowd. When people know that over 50% of the time they’re going to be annoyed rather than have a good time they’re not going to take a chance just to be social, which is what small venues are for. Needing an astronomically good reason for people to walk through your door isn’t raising your profile. It’s a sign people would rather be somewhere else most of the time.

Speaking of being social, make your spaces social again. Lower your prices and book good DJs. Learn how to arrange seating like a hospitable person. Be fun, get a clue. If you’re not in a major city, there aren’t local places for interesting people to hang out anymore, because someone decided they aren’t important. You can provide culture. If people can go to your club just to be social and see their friends for 0 to 5 bucks most nights, they will pay more when it’s worth it. Stop making everything expensive and not fun. No one has money to spend on pretending to be a person. That was 2018.

Book good local bands and take a chance on promising scrappy touring acts again. Explain how promoting works, tell them they need to promote their shows, and help them. Then treat them the same as any other artist. Give them a chance to make money. The main reason they don’t make you any money is that they don’t know how to, they don’t know what they’re doing. Not teaching them is a bum move on your part and a lose-lose. If that becomes an entry barrier for some that’s okay; laziness and apathy are what’s making you unpopular now.

DIY venues and alternative spaces can do this for zero dollars:

Be transparent about finances and stop being weird about...everything. Understanding event finances, egress, booze laws, and fire code doesn’t make you a square. Establish roles based on experience. Too often in these spaces, one person is organized and good with money but is too embarrassed, domineering, or socially stigmatized to be open about it and everyone else is high. This is an important part of being equitable to artists and keeping spaces running and safe. If it doesn’t get effectively passed down or incorporated when new people are being vetted to take over, things get fucked up. Everyone should have an understanding of the space’s responsibility to support artists and community, and the community’s responsibility to support the space. Teaching folks practical shit is cool and punk as well.

Learn how to promote. It’s a moving target. Every few years it changes, learn what works best for your communities and your space. Sometimes word of mouth works great, flyering, or making a monthly show calendar of all the DIY shows. Everything doesn’t have to be done online, do what resonates with your community. Ideally, give people a place online to confirm details for out-of-towners. Again, doesn’t have to be social media if that doesn’t resonate. It can be a password-protected website that you publish in a zine or leave cards at houses. Do what you want. But make it accessible somehow. If you book a local band, communicate that they need to promote the show. Whoever knows less should help the other learn. It’ll be fine.

Be clear about expectations. Run the space responsibly. Think about the experience of others, the needs of others, and what you can realistically provide. If you need help with something rudimentary, ask for help, and keep asking until you get the help you need. Learn from your community, share, and pass on what you learn. Be generous. If someone isn’t community-minded, responsible, and in a place in their life to be generous or accept guidance, they’re not ready to run a space, but they can help out until they are. It’s the way you make things work that makes it cool, not just being cool.

You don’t have to take my word for it, but we’ll see what happens if this continues to be ignored. Business types have a confusing tendency to overlook the importance of other people and their experiences. Maybe all of the objectively less important things they want from business success are less volatile when they leave the small guys alone and think about their responsibility to provide for other people first. Punks are extremely superstitious about responsibility, which ends up being just as self-centered and ineffectual, just unintentionally. These two ecosystems have quite a lot of symbiosis, both are in great need of rehabilitation, but otherwise, they have little in common. I believe in order to maintain balance, they need to be able to coexist in separate spheres from each other.

And everyone needs to stop even considering charging so much.

We’ll see.

(Originally published on beastsunltd.com January 26th, 2023)

#new music #diy #live music #tourlife #punk #stubborn society

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tyrannosaurus-trainwreck · 2 years

Text

“8 May.—I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy.”

Jonathan Harker, Full-Blown Solicitor: At first I felt like talking about how everyone in the entire country feared for my life if I came here, and half the people in the country actively tried to stop me from coming here, and how I almost got eaten by wolves on the way here, and how the coachman is a wizard, and how my host literally never eats around me but spends the whole time I’m eating staring at me like a creep was making too big a deal out of things and complaining for no reason, but now I’m sure of it--this place has bad vibes.

So Jonathan is getting a little antsy because, uh, everything that’s happened to him and also Count Dracula is a complete night-owl who won’t ever let him go to bed before dawn because he’s too busy asking all sorts of questions about England and mysteriously telling Jonathan about his adventures as a merciless warlord for the past thousand years and then laughing it off like “Oh my family just keeps really good records of these things lol namaste :).”

We’ve finally come to the infamous Bermuda Shave Scene where Jonathan’s like:

Count Dracula didn’t show up in the mirror. What the fuck?

He startled me so badly that I cut myself a little. Boo.

When he saw the blood he went for my throat like a gotdamn murderer. D:

I was like “AAAAAAH!” and jerked away, and he grabbed the crucifix instead, and he was back to normal. Pretty sure I didn’t imagine that, though? This whole thing is so weird.

Count Dracula threw my mirror out the window, and it broke. How am I going to shave now? :(

Guess I’ll have to use the bottom of my shaving pot. It’s metal, so if he throws that out the window, at least it won’t break. :( :( :(

I mean, for real. Jonathan is sitting there like “But there was no reflection of him in the mirror!” followed immediately by “This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near.” He discovers this guy has a mysterious Won’t Show Up In Mirrors Syndrome and is like “I’m really beginning to think this guy is sketch.” Who can really blame him for not following up on it, though? Our man’s on a mission to find himself a band-aid.

Count Dracula: Take care, take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country. And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it! *yeets shaving mirror out the fucking window as hard as he can*

Shaving mirror: *shatters into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below*

Jonathan: I was… using that? To shave?

Naturally after all this, Jonathan is like, “Well, a man still has to eat. Not Count Dracula, which is so strange! Ha ha, he’s such a weirdo. I’ve never even seen him drink! Anyhoo, breakfast time.”

He goes exploring in the castle after breakfast and finds that he can’t get out, and also that it doesn’t really matter if he can’t get out, because they’re in the middle of nowhere. He goes completely bonkers at discovering this, with all the built-up panic about wolves and sorcerers and staying with Count Dracula finally breaking through his Berlin Wall of denial, and just tears around the castle like a cat with the zoomies trying to open all the doors and windows.

Meanwhile, Dracula is cleaning up the breakfast dishes, making Jonathan’s bed, and planning lunch.

I mean, on the one hand, this is Count Dracula we’re talking about. On the other hand, this guy is basically running a bed and breakfast with one guest by himself, while trying not to let on at all that he’s the one doing everything, and he’s only done the costume quick-change trick the once, so the rest of it really is involving some ‘60s French farce nonsense where he’s ducking into random rooms and booking it down hidden passages and sticking to the ceiling with half a roast duck under one arm to keep Jonathan from noticing.

Also he’s spending like 8 hours a night doing nothing but monologuing at this dude, which really eats into your whole cooking/cleaning/shopping time, and you know the brides certainly aren’t going to be helping out with any of this shit.

Did any of them become the immortal blood-drinking hellwife of the devil to sweep the floors and wash the windows so a twenty-something English idiot would think they had servants? No, they did not.

Sidebar: Can you even imagine the reaction of the poor peasants to Dracula needing normal people-food for the first time in centuries? Even if you assume he went out and bought it, it’s something out of a nightmare.

You’re a 19th century small-town grocer, minding your 19th century small-town grocer business, when in walks Count fucking Dracula wearing the shittiest disguise you have ever seen in your entire 19th century small-town grocer life. He pulls out a wooden box with dirt still on it, snaps open the rusted-ass lock with his bare hands, starts plunking fucking Roman coins down on the counter like it’s nothing and is all “Hello yes I am a normal person having a normal guest for a few months and need… food. Normal food, for one normal person.” while refusing to break eye contact. And if you take more than a few seconds to recover from the aneurysm this induces, he starts helpfully listing foods that you vaguely remember your great-grandmother talking about having when she was a kid, and you have to have another aneurysm about that.

More likely the dude just rolled up to the nearest farms’ storehouses and grabbed anything that looked plausible, and the peasants who lived there were like, “I swear to God and the Virgin Mary and all your favorite saints that I saw Count Dracula legging it out of the barn with three of my chickens and my last bag of coffee beans. Maybe he’s decided to stop eating people?” Which of course leads to another mass gathering in front of the inn while everybody debates over what this means and starts blessing everything in sight, and somebody gets the priest who’s like, “He’s feeding the Englishman. He has not decided to stop eating people, he’s a vampire, he can’t just decide to stop eating people. Biting someone who’s just drank a pot of coffee is probably the closest thing he can get to an espresso, God help us all.”

Anyway, eventually Jonathan reverts to form with “I’m definitely getting murdered, but maybe if I pretend I don’t know that, I can squeak a few more hours out of this.” and also “If I confront him and he denies it, everything will just be really awkward.”

Which, in his defense, it would be? Imagine that conversation, between these two idiots.

Jonathan: You’re keeping me prisoner here.

Count Dracula: I have no idea what you’re talking about. That’s preposterous. I would never. You are my honored guest, not my prisoner.

Jonathan: So I can leave whenever I wish.

Count Dracula: Of course. There’s the door. *gestures to series of locked doors*

Jonathan: They’re all locked.

Count Dracula: No, they’re not. *sits back, steeples fingers, stares at Jonathan like a muppet until Jonathan just gives up and eats dinner like another muppet*

“I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through.”

Jonathan: I was utterly and completely doomed.

At this point Jonathan goes sneaking around the castle like a creeper and manages to watch Count Dracula fluffing his pillows and fussing with the table service and presumably basting the chicken with a little chef’s hat on, and all Jonathan can think is:

“This gave me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that brought me here. This is a terrible thought; for if so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his hand in silence. How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me?”

Like, I don’t know, my dude. We could consult, for a moment, your Fun List of Foreign Words everyone in the town was throwing around when they found out you had a coach ticket to Castle Dracula:

“Ordog” (Satan)

“pokol” (hell)

“stregoica” (witch)

“vrolok” and “vlkoslak” (were-wolf or vampire)

Sure sounds like your dude might be some sort of shape-shifting warlock or some shit!

“What meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash?”

Meant they didn’t want your ass to get ate, Jon.

“In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count Dracula, as it may help me to understand. To-night he may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion.”

Jonathan Harker really looked at this situation and went, “If only I can get a lonely egomaniac nobleman talking about himself…”

8-10 hours later: He’s that Dracula, all right.

Dracula: The warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace; and the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told.

Also Dracula: My desire to go to England where no one knows I’m a fucking vampire has nothing to do with the British Empire kicking the shit out of Russia two doors down from here and my subsequent discovery that the British Empire is pretty much never not kicking the shit out of somebody, somewhere, to the extent that another thirty or forty war crimes per week could go completely unnoticed if I play my cards right.

#dracula #may 8

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myherowritings · 4 years

Text

PART 4. HOW THE RICH SUCK THEIR OWN DICKS

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.9k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji makes an appearance bleh, enji being classist, enji...ew, okay i swear most of the chapter is shouto and y/n being cute though

A/N. ngl i have genshin brainrot real bad at the moment but i still have motivation for ceo!shouto and ceo!shouto only u.u there are only 7 parts to this series so we’re at the halfway mark already AHHH i hope u enjoy reading and lmk what u think!! :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

Shouto’s day went from good to bad faster than it took to pull an espresso.

It started off with a good morning text from you and having a brief, but pleasant, interaction at your work. Actually, the past few weeks have been going along a similar routine that he found himself settling into all too comfortably. You even upheld your promise of stealing him away one weekend to walk around the park, get food, and just have time to relax and be happy for once.

Getting to be in your presence almost daily became so normalized in his life that even some of his employees heard about the cute barista with the best pastries. Yet, although he saw you often, he found himself wanting to talk to you more and more.

But for now, Shouto told himself to settle with starting the mornings off with you. They were the best mornings he’s had in a while and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful.

Today, however, went sour fast after he heard his father was coming up to the top floor for a meeting with him. He didn’t find the idea of Enji visiting to be the most abhorrent thing, but the moment his father opened his mouth, Shouto quickly took that back.

As expected, his father reminded him about the annual charity gala Todoroki Enterprises was expected to attend. Handfuls of galas ran through the year, but the once hosted by Naruhata Industries under the guise of raising money and awareness for the charities of choice.

In theory, a charity gala ball sounded humanitarian and a way for the upper class to give back, but in reality, most of the funds collected didn’t go to the actual charities, instead they went to paying for the venue, live bands, entertainment, the most expensive catering, decorations, and more. What presented itself as a charitable event in the eyes of the public was really a way rich people could flaunt their wealth and feel good about themselves for doing absolutely nothing to benefit society. A way for the rich to suck their own dicks, if you would.

Shouto absolutely hated it.

It was also a press opportunity and, in his father’s eyes, a way to gain public favor for the Todoroki business. Today, Enji attempted to tell him that bringing a date that fit the mold of high society was the best way for him to establish rapport through media coverage. Apparently, the image news outlets have placed on Shouto were either a heartbreaker and playboy with no care for other’s emotions, or a monotonous stoic who seemed like a robot with no care for other’s emotions.

In either cases, there seemed to be a theme of Shouto not caring for others.

He sighed.

“You can’t keep that image, Shouto,” said Enji with his arms folded across his chest. “If the media sees you with someone—a nice girl with a good upbringing—then your likeability will increase tenfold. If there’s no one you like, I’ll have to set up a date for you.”

For a while, he was torn between telling his dad to fuck off and trying to do as he said to keep peace within the family. But then, an image of you popped into his head.

“Actually, there is someone I like.”

Enji narrowed his eyes. “Oh? An educated girl with wealthy parents?”

“There’s someone I like,” he simply repeated, the tone in his voice growing cold.

He didn’t know anything about your upbringing or family nor did he exactly care. Shouto didn’t want to bring a date to the dumb gala, but if he had to, he would want it to be you. Only if you agreed, of course. But if you weren’t willing, then he had to face the facts that his father would most likely force a date of his own choosing upon Shouto.

“That’s good you like someone, son,” Enji said through his teeth, “but we have to make sure it’s not some sort of...loose woman. That’d be even worse publicity—”

“I like someone and if you really cared about my happiness like you said you did, that’d be enough.”

There was a tense silence in the air. Shouto didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times Enji had told him and his siblings that he would try to be a better dad. A caring dad who only wanted what was best for his children. A better husband for Rei. A better example for the public. The first few times, Shouto believed it. But Enji said the same things over and over again with no lasting change and Shouto was just fed up.

After hearing the same lie told to him over and over again, it seemed to lose its weight. He seemed to lose his hope in his father ever changing.

Still, Shouto had to deal with him for as long as he lived. That much he knew as a son living in this society.

But he hoped Enji at least had enough guilt to let him have this.

“Fine.”

Shouto blinked in surprise.

Enji stated, “If you think your date can help your public image and not be a complete embarrassment to the business, you can bring them.”

That was the closest thing to approval Shouto would get today. He nodded and listened along to whatever else his father had to say, the only thing actually on his mind was thinking about how he would ask you out on a date to some stuffy gala. And hope that you’d say yes.

— ✩ —

“Wait, so, let me get this straight— You’re the CEO of Todoroki Enterprises and even after almost two months of knowing you, I had no clue?”

He inclined his head, looking solemn. “Yes, I’m sorry. Are you upset with me for not telling you sooner?”

Initial shock aside, you couldn’t say that you were too surprised at the revelation. You knew Shouto was wealthy and probably in some high-up position in the business industry, but you never knew to what extent. A CEO? That had to be the highest rank in a company! And a company as well known as Todoroki Enterprises?

The thought made you a little nervous. The guy you slowly befriended over the course of short cafe visits and silly texts was Mr. Todoroki? Or worse— The guy you stole away from doing work for a whole weekend was someone as busy as a CEO? You internally groaned. That had to be against laws of the universe or something.

“I’m not upset, no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I just...can’t believe it I guess.” Eyes widening, you were quick to amend your words. “Well, I can believe it. You seem very intelligent and well-put together and, uh, rich! But I guess I just didn’t think a CEO would be so funny and kind.” You winced. “Oh no, is that mean to say?”

“I don’t think it’s mean.” He shrugged. “You’re right to say most people in this field aren’t known for their delightful temperaments.”

You absentmindedly drummed your finger against your thigh, trying to process this new information. “So you’re Todoroki Shouto...and you want me to be your date to the Naruhata Charity Ball?”

“Yeah. I know it’s a huge favor to ask, and I promise you can say no if you choose,” said Shouto in earnest. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree.”

With a hum, you stretched your legs out under the table before crossing one over the other again. It was a Saturday afternoon where you had no work and Shouto managed to escape from his for a few hours of the day. You took him to your favorite ice cream place nearby and the two of you ate at a dining area outside the establishment.

Just a mundane day as two friends hanging out with each other where you found out one of those friends was the chief executive officer of a billion dollar business headquartered in Japan.

Totally normal, everyday occurrences, obviously.

“And you need a date for this event?” you asked. In all honesty, you would be more than happy if Shouto asked you out on a date. He was fun and you enjoyed getting to know him. But these particular circumstances made you a tad bit more nervous.

“I normally wouldn’t need to bring one, but my father insists it’d help my public image and in turn the image of the company.” With a pinched look on his face, he took a bite of his ice cream. “In other words I bring a date or he picks one for me.”

You weren’t the most caught up on super rich people drama, but it was almost infamous how estranged the Todoroki family was. Again, you didn’t know much but you did know enough to say that Todoroki Enji seemed like a Class A asshole. If you could help Shouto out with his weird dilemma, you saw no reason not to.

“So this charita gala is like where they have those live auctions and silent auctions and get tipsy on fancy wine and champagne for hours right?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Have you attended one?”

“Not quite,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I’ve volunteered at one in school though. As one of those runners? It was fun. I got a bunch of those tiny complimentary candies!” Your mouth watered at the memory. “What kind of drug were in those candies? I’ve never had candy so good before!”

“The tiny, circular candies with the excessively big wrapper? The fruity ones?”

You shot up in your seat, excited he knew what you were talking about. “Yes! That’s the one!”

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “I always see those at these types of events.”

“So… The candy will be there at the gala you want me to accompany you to?”

“Most likely.”

“Can I take a bunch of those from candies there…?” you asked with an optimistic grin.

“I’ll be your accomplice in sneaking them out.”

“It’s a date!” you said before Shouto could get another word out.

You’d be reunited with those yummy, fancy candies you’ve been separated from for far too long. What other reason did you need to agree?

With a determined look on your face, you held your hand out for Shouto to shake to seal the deal.

He blinked. “Wait. Did you want to discuss it some more? Maybe have a few days to think it through? I’m grateful, of course, but I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“No. I won’t regret it. I’d do anything to taste those candies again.”

Shouto looked unsure what to say. “Isn’t there some parable warning people not to be bribed by candy?”

“Not to take candy from a baby?”

“No. Not that one.”

“That’s the only one I know.”

“Never mind then.”

The two of you exchanged confused looks before letting out fits of laughter. You weren’t sure if either of you knew exactly what the other was laughing at, but the moment was an enjoyable one nonetheless.

“Yet another reason to bring me to that fancy event— I’ll make sure you’re entertained all the way through,” you playfully bragged, smoothing down the front of your shirt.

“The event will definitely be more bearable with you there.” He licked a small bit of his ice cream from his pink spoon, making a sound of approval. “But you can change your mind about coming at any time, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you said, holding a pinky out. “Pinky promise.”

With what seemed like a bashful expression on his face, Shouto extended his own pinky to interlock yours. You sealed it with a kiss and a heart, like you were a kid again.

“Now, am I supposed to be in love with you at the gala?” you asked nonchalantly, finishing off your last bite of ice cream. He offered you a spoonful of his and you tried not to grow too flustered at Shouto feeding you his dessert. You murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

He gave you a small smile. “You’re welcome. As for being in love… I don’t think that’s necessary. Just pretend you like being around me, I think.”

Under the table, you nudged his shoe with yours, pulling a face. “I don’t have to pretend about that, silly.”

“Ah, well,” he paused, offering you another spoonful of ice cream, “I don’t either.”

“I’m glad.” Then, “Is this strawberry? I was never a big strawberry ice cream fan but for some reason this tastes so good.”

You ignored the nagging voice in your head that said maybe it wasn’t so much the ice cream flavor but who you were enjoying it with.

The two of you finished his dessert in peace and after cleaning up the area with a napkin, Shouto turned to you with an intent look on his face.

“Before the gala, would you mind if I talk you shopping so you could pick out what to wear?” he asked. “I would pay of course— It’s the least I could do to say thank you.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me! You’re my friend and I want to help.” You thought about it for a moment. “And get the candy.”

“Anything for the candy.”

“Exactly,” you said in complete seriousness. “But I wouldn’t mind going shopping with you. You could help me decide what to wear! I’m not exactly sure how to dress for an event as fancy as this.”

“You could wear anything to the event and still look amazing.” His words were ones of flattery but his tone sounded completely genuine.

Heat rose to your cheeks at the compliment. “Look who’s talking— You’re practically runway ready no matter what time of day.”

“I’ve never walked a runway before.”

You stifled a laugh at his literal interpretation of your words. Cute. “Me neither.”

He looked confused at why you were grinning, but it still brought a smile to his own lips.

By now the sun had begun to set and Shouto was walking you to the train to see you off before you went home.

“Can I pick you up next weekend in the morning?” he said. “So we can get your outfit for the gala?”

“Sure! I’ll text you my address.”

He nodded in contentment. “And again, you don’t have to worry about any costs.”

“Is this why my friends have called you a sugar daddy?” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked down the street, side-by-side. “But thank you. Shopping will be fun— We can even match colors!”

“Mn.” He looked between the both of you, as if trying to picture what colors would complement each other.

You crossed the sidewalk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the scenery by Shouto’s side. A few times, you even felt his knuckles brush against yours and you had the undeniable urge to hold his hand. Would that be weird? you asked yourself before deciding against it.

Just because he asked you to be his date for the Naruhata Charity Ball didn’t mean he actually liked you, right? It was just a favor from a friend to a friend.

Something about that though made your stomach unsettled. Maybe part of you wanted it to be a real date— Wanted this to be a real date.

“So I won’t be seeing you tomorrow,” you said after a moment’s silence, trying not to look too dejected.

You knew he’d still text good morning and good night and ask you random things throughout the day (all of which you found really endearing, by the way), but it was still different from seeing him in person. Even though your time together in the morning was small, they still were enough to make your day. The thought of your waking hours being so entwined made you nervous, but for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. In fact, it was sort of...nice.

“I’ll see you Monday morning, right?” you asked hopefully, though you were already fairly certain of the answer.

Shouto nodded. “Of course. It’s already marked on my calendar.”

“Ever the flatterer, hmm?”

“Not flattery, just the truth.” He pulled his phone out and showed you his (rather packed) calendar app. To your surprise, a little reminder that said ‘See Y/N :)’ was marked on his Monday schedule.

Unable to stop the beam from spreading across your lips, you hid your face in your hands. Gosh— Did he have to be so cute? He was making it harder and harder to only like him as a friend. And even now, you weren’t sure if you liked him only as a friend.

But you pushed those thoughts away.

That was something to deal with at a later time.

When you reached the train station you normally took home, you turned to Shouto, giving him a big hug. He was tall and warm. You could feel his lean muscles through his button-down shirt as you rested your head against his chest and arms around his waist.

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you again soon.”

After a pause, he gave you a hug back, hands rubbing hesitant circles on your back in a way that made you smile. “Text me when you get home safe,” he said as you both reluctantly released each other from an embrace.

“I will,” you promised. “You do the same! Later, Shouto!”

And with that, you waved goodbye and boarded the train, unable to shake the unwavering grin on your face all the way home.

a/n: when shouto started feeding y/n spoonfuls of his ice cream i cried (Ｔ▽Ｔ) that’s so cUTE OF HIM LIKE PLS SIR STOP BEFORE I FALL MORE IN LOVE WITH U !! >:O he’s such a sweetheart ahhhh,, i hope all the fluff made up for the brief appearance of endeavor ಠ╭╮ಠ FHDJKF

what to expect in the next part:

shopping for the gala time !!

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~ part 2

oh my, y/n has to try on dresses? oh my, it’d be a shame if they needed help putting it on :o *fake gasp*

yeah things get just a lil steamy but shh

2K notes · View notes

raibebe · 4 years

Text

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?” “Nope.” “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.) “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again. You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now… “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.” You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe. “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless. “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

#kafenetwork #johnny #seo youngho #johnny suh #nct #johnny smut #johnny fluff #nct smut #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #johnny fic #johnny fanfic

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misschifuyu · 3 years

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Hi, can you write shower with baji, ran and draken<3

- hello bby ! and of course ♡ every time i get a request w/ ran I literally want to write a novel abt him,,much love for him

Baji, Ran and Draken showering headcanons

genre: fluff

warnings: slightly suggestive for ran + draken, but not for baji bc !! we don’t sexualise minors in this household

Baji

it's quite rare to actually catch this guy in the shower

not because he's unhygienic - far from it, he knows how to take care of himself - but rather it's due to the fact that he usually takes them at ungodly hours of the night

we're talking 4am showers

if you happen to be awake, or he decides to have one at a more reasonable time of the day, he won't be opposed to let you join. in fact, he'd enjoy your company

you'd be a grand help when it came to washing his hair. believe it or not, baji has a fair share of hair products to wash his locks, and you'd have to use them in the right order if you didn't want to get a face full of soap

of course, he will return the favour if you'd like him to, just know that he might make a few comments here and there over how you should take care of your type of hair. he seems to think he knows it all when it comes to that topic, when in reality he used to use a three-in-one just a year ago

courtesy of chifuyu commenting that his hair was starting to look like a mop

baji, being the guy he is, will sometimes find it absolutely hilarious to watch you fumble around for the soap that he had well hidden in the shower

you'd end up finding it, but only after a good few minutes of asking him what the hell he had done with the little bar of soap

frequently, you would threaten to push him over to make him fall in the shower because of this. however, you knew well he was pretty stable on his feet and the tables would only turn in his favour

and, frankly, you didn't want to leave the shower with a massive bruise on your arm from falling over

when the two of you are done, don't expect to be dressed quickly. no, baji will take up the opportunity of being with you to pick out a moisturiser from your bathroom supplies and insist that you lathered yourself up. and then also proceed to examine anything else you used after a shower

he's curious and looking to learn more, so if he wants to read the small letters on the back of your face cream, let him. he won't do any harm, other than waste a ridiculous amount of time doing so

usually, he'd let his hair dry on its own, but since you also wanted to have a bit of fun, you decided to wrap one of the extra towels you had around his head, leaving him looking quite fancy

he wasn't best pleased over the fact he looked like he had just left a spa, but he figured it meant keeping his hair out of his face

Ran

the oldest haitani brother will always end up using your shower whenever he crashed at your place. it's gotten to the point where he doesn't even ask anymore, he simply goes

you didn't mind, but most of the times he'd try and get you to tag along with him. not a convenient thing to do when you're in the middle of finishing up work or sorting out the house

however, you'd usually comply. besides, it was far from the only time you'd see him in all his glory

showers with ran last absolutely ages, spanning from 45 minutes to an hour and a half. it goes without saying that your fingers end up all wrinkly by the time you're done

you'd help him undo his plaits whilst he told you about his day. he always has something to talk to you about, and he loves being around you so it's the perfect scenario together

if he wasn't going to wash his hair, he'd let you tie it up in a bun on top of his head. you'd always struggle to keep it in place since it was quite soft and the hair band would frequently slip out

but, if not, he'd simply wear it down. the sight of his loose hair was always one to admire, as it was rare to see it out of his signature braids

during the shower, he likes you stand behind you, rather than facing you. this allows him to lean his chin on your head as the water falls on both of you

since he's very above average when it comes to height, you'd be in charge of washing the bottom half of his hair whilst he dealt with his scalp

you had suggested getting some kind of seat so you could reach him but the idea had blown over as you got used to simply doing half of his hair

when it came to your turn in washing your hair, you won't even need to move whatsoever. ran loves to take care of your hair as much as his, so it will be his pleasure to do it for you

the reasoning behind the length of the showers is because he has a tendency of indulging himself just a little too much in you

you'll be washing out the shampoo on your scalp when you'd feel his hands roaming a little further down from your head

shameless as he is, he will be amused at the reactions you'd always give him when his fingers skimmed the soft skin of your body

needless to say, he'd more than often end up having to lather you in soap again

but he's also prone to using the showers as his personal talk show

this man can talk, and though you're more than happy to listen, you'd sometimes have to ask him to just get on with it if you were in a hurry to get out

Draken

it's common knowledge that draken with his hair down is a sight to remember and commend

he doesn't really get the big deal every time you'd smile when the single braid was undone, leaving his blonde locks to fall by the side of your face

he likes your reaction, though, and it's the reason he frequently suggests you join him in the shower after a long, tiring day of being out

you were always more than happy to do so, as he'd usually stay over for the night when he did and it meant there wouldn't be a sweaty guy ruining the sheets of your bed

he'd look down at you as you'd tell him about your day, the water falling down on the two of you

it was a nice way to finish off a day, and he was sure there wasn’t anything better he could ask for

when it comes to washing each other’s hair, draken would do yours first

he claimed it was better that way because you could leave the conditioner in for longer as you did his

a very hair-care informed man he is

he loves the feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he crouches down so that you can actually reach the top of his head

the two of you would always laugh when he’d meet you at eye level. you swore one day you’d buy platform flip flops for the shower so he could stand up the whole time

usually, when you washed his hair, you’d circle around so that you were behind him

when you did, draken would sometimes give your sides a slight squeeze, causing you to yelp out of surprise

whether or not he continued to tease you was up to your following reaction

one time you had told him to be patient until you finished up lathering his hair, which just resulted in a frustrated draken for a good five minutes

at the end of the shower, you’d both get out and wrap yourselves up in fluffy towels. you would frequently ask to dry his hair out, carefully, to which he’d happily agree

only in exchange to dry you up too, which always ended up in him wrapping you up like a baby and laughing at your reaction as you complained about him flattening your hair down with his creative ideas

he’d always fix it up afterwards, though, so there was nothing to fret !

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers baji #keisuke baji #tokyo revengers ran #ran haitani #tokyo revengers draken #ken ryuuguji #fluff #tokyo revengers x reader

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xpeachesncream · 4 years

Text

bands | twelve

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, insecurities, some overthinking, introducing you to fluffy koo?! and i think we’re all familiar with the song at the end too 🥺

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Am I doing too much for shopping for a dress? He told me to dress nice and I honestly don't have an ounce of nice in my closet." You told Kai as you looked through the hangers on the rack.

"No, you're not doing too much. And I think you dress nice, but it's always good to have a few dresses in general, right?"

"Okay, okay. How about this?" You hold up a black knitted, off the shoulder dress that fell right above the knee. "It's too simple isn't it?"

"Simple is the best." He shrugs. "That's probably the best one I've seen so far and it'll look nice on you. Plus, you can just curl your hair or whatever girls do."

"Hm, okay." You chuckle, heading over to the register to pay for the dress. You had picked up Kai from school and quickly dragged him to the mall before dropping him off at Eric's. You might have tried on and looked at a few billion dresses since you've been here, but out of all those, this dress probably spoke to you the most. You didn't wanna be too flashy, or do too much, but you did want to put effort into tonight's date with Jungkook. You had butterflies in your stomach all day, and quite frankly, you were nervous for how tonight would turn out. You just wanted to look good for him, and you definitely wanted him to look at you like you were the only girl in the world. It might have been a big ask on your part, but if he was serious about this, it shouldn't be a big deal, right?

"Let's get you some food before I drop you off."

"Can't I just stay at your place?"

"And watch me do my walk of shame in the morning? No thanks." He gives you a look before shaking his head.

"You're right, that's kind of weird." He does a fake shiver. "Kind of gross too."

"You started it." You snort. You make your way over to the food court, ordering Panda Express for a quick to-go meal. You could never go wrong with fried rice and their orange chicken. As you had ordered your food and waited for them to fill up your bowls, the two workers began to chat and you only overheard because—

"Did you hear? Jungkook is supposedly dating a stripper from that nightclub." You purse your lips into a fine line as you wait patiently for the food to be put into your bowls.

"I heard, but is it actually true? Why would he date a stripper?"

"I know, right? He could do so much better, why would he stoop that low?"

"My question is— how did a nobody like her get his attention?" The cashier turns to you and gives you a fake smile. "Anything else for you, love?"

"No." You shake your head, pay and take the food before walking away. You don't know why the words pain you so much, but you simply shake it off as you approach Kai who is waiting at a nearby table.

"Ready?" He looks up at you and tilts his head.

"You okay?"

"Mmm, yeah let's go."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Kai. Really." You give him a nod, along with a fake, tight-lipped smile. He knows something's wrong, but he doesn't press you, especially after the way you responded. You quickly drop him off to avoid any unnecessary confrontation with your stepfather and make your way home. As soon as you touch base, you sit on your couch and.. you just quietly sit there. Suddenly, everything people had been saying was getting to you. Why did Jungkook want you? Why did he go for you and not anyone else?

Maybe they were right? You were just a nobody. Even if Jungkook did have feelings for you, you questioned if this was even going to last.

"God, Y/N." You groan at yourself, shaking the thoughts out of your head to start getting ready. Just because you brushed it off though, doesn't mean you had gotten over it. They were starting to pile up one by one, and one day, you felt like you were going to break and really let it get to you.

That day wasn't today, though. It couldn't be.

You looked at the dress after you slipped it on, staring at yourself in the mirror as you slipped on your heels. You fixed up your hair and added a dab of lipgloss before letting out a content sigh. You wondered if this would be enough for him. You always wondered if you were enough for him. Your stomach was in knots and this was the first time you felt sick to your stomach nervous.

"Hello?" Your phone suddenly rang, you grabbing it with a quickness.

"Hey, I'm outside." You furrowed your brows because his voice sounded a lot closer than it should be. You kept the phone to your ear as you opened the door, seeing Jungkook smiling with the phone pressed against his ear as well.

"Silly." You scrunched your nose as you hung up and put your phone down. You watched as he looked at you up and down, his eyes widening in admiration and awe.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." You blushed.

"Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself, Jeon Jungkook." He smiles. He was wearing a black and white striped button up, black slacks, boots and a fitted black blazer. His black hair hung loosely over the sides of his face, natural waves coming in and giving it a little volume.

"Ready?" He holds out his hand for you to intertwine your fingers with his.

"You know, you didn't have to come upstairs." You smiled up at him.

"Mm, but that takes away from the complete experience, sweetheart." He grabs your purse and your small duffle bag [since he politely requested for you to bring a change of clothes] to carry it for you as you head down the steps and to his car. You loved the smell of his car, as oddly as that sounds. He always had a fresh strip of that Black Ice car freshener hanging from his rear view mirror that reminded you of his scent so much. "Seatbelt on?" You nod as he starts the car and locks his free hand with yours once again.

"Where are you taking me?" You playfully ask.

"Don't worry about it." He chuckles. "However, I want you to know we won't be out in public. Not because I don't wanna show you off, it's only because I don't want anyone to bother us." You nod.

"Okay." You appreciate his honesty, your what if's and insecurities slowly drifting away the more Jungkook talks to you, touches you. You always thought it was cute how careful he was with you, treating you like you were the most delicate thing in the world and that he had to take care of you in every way possible.

You realize that you're making your way to his luxury apartment building [his own, not the dorms] and you're a little confused as to why you had gotten all dressed up and fancy if you were just going back to his place. However, you didn't say anything to allow the plans to do the talking for you. You trusted him with this, and you feel like Jungkook really hasn't given you a solid reason to not trust him at this point in your 'relationship.'

You didn't know what to call it yet.

He parks his car in his usual spot, and immediately runs over to open your door and help you out. He gathers your bags from the back and hangs onto them as his other hand is resting against the small of your back. He brings you to the very top floor, where there aren't necessarily apartments but moreso conference and party rooms and you can tell strictly by the way each room has double doors.

"Uh, this exists?" Jungkook chuckles.

"Other idols live here too, gives them a way to do shit without having to step outside and have people in their business." You nod.

"Does this mean your dorm is like this too?" He nods.

"Yup, just another luxury apartment building. Few things differ but for the most part, they're the same." You shrug.

"Must be nice."

"It's alright." He stops in front of double doors towards the end of the hallway. "Close your eyes for me, please? Just for a quick minute." You smirk before doing what you're told and closing your eyes. You hear the doors open, and Jungkook's hand is retreating down onto the small of your back. He's guiding you as you walk in, but stops after a couple of steps. "Open?" You open your eyes and softly gasp at the sight in front of you. The entire half of the wall was strictly windows, so you had a good view of the city in front of you. What caught your eye the most though was all the pink and red shades of rose petals along the floor, lining your way to the dining table in the center of the room. Along with it were little tealight candles and balloons along the way, with speakers softly playing music in the background. The room looked so big having one table in the center, just for the two of you. The center table was drenched in white table cloth, with tall white candles in the middle and a single rose as its centerpiece.

"Jungkook?!" You slightly shriek. "Oh my god, what is this?"

"Date night, sweetheart. Had to make it worthwhile since we're not out in public." He smiles and takes your hand. "Come on, let's go eat. I know you're hungry." He pulls out your chair and has you sit before he situates himself in front of you and tucks your bags underneath the table.

"Thank you." You give him a soft, cute smile. You're not sure how else you can show your appreciation for all the effort he put in, but you were happy. "I-I really don't know what I did to deserve all this effort from you." He shakes his head.

"What do you mean? You didn't have to do anything. I wholeheartedly just wanted to do this for you." He smiles, his dimple poking out from the bottom corner of mouth.

"Well, thank you again. I really do appreciate everything you do for me." He scrunches his nose before looking up at the waiter, who was ready to serve you two either a bottle of Jungkook's favorite red wine or white wine.

"You like sweet or bitter?"

"Sweet." You shyly said as he signaled for the waiter to pour the white wine before thanking him as he left you two to your piece.

"So, dinner is a 3 course meal made by a friend of mine."

"A friend, ey?" He nods, knowing full well he hired one of the most popular chefs around to prepare dinner for you two.

"I hope you like it. I asked him to make it special." You chuckled.

"I'm sure I will." You sipped on your wine. Over time, the salad appetizer came out, followed by the main course meal. You both had dug in pretty quietly, Jungkook chiming in about random things with you reacting appropriately to the topics he brought up.

"So, did you figure out what you were gonna do for Kai?" You shrug.

"He's gonna go to the arcade and I'll buy him Loco Moco." You snort. "That sounds terrible, doesn't it? For an 18th birthday?" You frown.

"No, not if that's what he wants. Why don't you come over my place and I can make it for him? He can take over my gaming consoles if he wants, too."

"That's asking for too much."

"But you're not asking, I'm asking."

"Would you mind? He really does want to meet you."

"No I don't mind. It's on Saturday, yeah?"

"Yup." He nods.

"Schedule isn't as packed for a bit."

"Hm, okay. If you say so."

"Just let me know when to start making it and I'll make sure I make the time."

"Okay." You nod. "Hey, you have an older brother, don't you?"

"Yeah, but we aren't as close. Which is why it's nice to see you and Kai together. It's pretty comforting."

"May I ask why?"

"He just always thinks I'm a troublemaker, or that I rebel too much. We just have different mindsets, that's all."

"Did you guys fight a lot when you were younger?" He nods.

"Sure did." He points to the scar on his cheek and laughs. You lean over to run your finger over it before sitting back into your chair.

"That looks like a deep cut."

"That's because it was. He beat my ass over his turn on the computer." You chuckle.

"Sorry, that must have hurt."

"Eh, nothing I couldn't get over. But yeah, that's pretty much my relationship with my brother."

"How about your parents?" He shrugs.

"They think the same way. I try to be on their good side but they like to remind me about what I used to do or how I live my life." He forks into his food. "Like my tattoos. They hated that shit. Probably still do."

"I'm sorry, Jungkook."

"No, don't be. It is what it is. I really do try, but sometimes it gets tiring. I don't go home often because of it."

"Hmm." You hum. "You know, I always thought you were such a social butterfly."

"Me?" He laughs. "No."

"But you look so confident on stage. So happy."

"I am happy on stage, but it's kind of just that. I do what I need to do, especially for the fans and all. Don't get me wrong though, I love it. But behind the scenes, I'm not much of a talker, or someone who shares a lot. I like to keep it that way. I don't like getting too close to people and letting people into my bubble and vice versa. Gets complicated."

"So, what about me?" You look at him, curiosity filling the look in your eyes.

"I like you, and I want you in my bubble. You aren't complicated."

"How do you know that for sure? I can kick and scream and throw tantrums. And-and have attitude." You say, making him laugh and shake his head. "I can be complicated."

"I doubt it. Can't see an ounce of it. You can try, but I'm sure it won't be like the way you explain it to be." He looks at you. "All I'm saying is that I really like you, Y/N. I want you around me. You keep things so simple and sweet, and I've already started to appreciate the small things from being around you. It's something I used to overlook before we met. All the small things, the little joys in life. You make me look at things in a different perspective, I guess is what I'm trying to say." He cutely shakes his head at how he just rambled on, making you blush.

"It really makes me happy to hear that." You finished up the food on your plate, blushing as you wiped the corners of your mouth and fiddled with your fingers.

"So, did you ever think you'd be here after all the times you played so hard to get at the club?"

"No, definitely not. I mean, even in general." You tilted your head while looking at him.

"Are you happy to be here?" He asks shyly, his doe eyes wide and puppy-like.

"Of course I am."

"That's all that matters to me." He says, beaming from ear to ear. The waiter brings over the dessert, which is a sampler plate of 5 different cakes/cheesecakes. Your eyes light up because who fucking doesn't love dessert? You immediately go to town, yelling out your 'yum's' and 'ooh's' every bite you take. Jungkook laughs watching you happily eating away, giving him leverage to feed you a spoonful of the dessert on the plate closest to his end.

"I'm so full. That was so, so good." You finish your wine after one last bite of the dessert and sink back into your seat.

"Yeah? I'm glad you enjoyed it." He puts his napkin down on the table after wiping his mouth, then gets up, holding out his hand for you to take. You look at him, a little confused as to what he was trying to do, but you take it anyway. "May I have this dance with you, pretty lady?" You smile and nod, swinging your arms around his neck as he holds you closely against him by the hips.

"Jungkook?"

"Yeah?"

"I really appreciate you. Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"You're absolutely welcome, baby." The pet name sends goosebumps raging throughout your body, your forehead pressing against his. "You're special to me, you know? I can't really explain it just yet, but just know that every single thing that I've done for you has been worth it." You give him a small smile as you quietly dance to the music, your bodies pressed warmly together as you hold each other close. He softly sings along with the music, causing you to giggle every now and then when he showed off his cute facial expressions. After a song has passed, he presses his lips against your forehead, making you shut your eyes at the sensation of his soft lips against your skin.

You just wanted him as much as he wanted you. You were so undeniably attracted to him, just as much as he with you.

"I have one more thing to show you." He says as he grabs your bags underneath the table.

"One more thing, huh?" He suddenly gets shy, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he grabs your hand and leads you out of the room. You start climbing up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, going up about 3 more flights before Jungkook is climbing over the gate that blocks off the last flight the leads to another door. "Jungkook, is this illegal?!" He snorts as he waits for you to meet him at the door.

"Why would it be here if it was illegal?"

"But it was--" He opens the door, bringing you out to the rooftop to look at the entire view of the city ahead as the sun was getting ready to fully rest below the horizon. "Ohhhh shit, it's a beauty." You say in awe, walking over to the railing to take everything in. You expected Jungkook's body to press against yours from behind, however it doesn't. You find yourself looking for him, turning over your shoulder to see him quietly blowing up a balloon before smiling cutely at you and bringing it over. "A balloon?" You cocked your head to the side in confusion.

"This is gonna sound dumb and cheesy, but it was really the one thing I could think of to help put things into perspective. I want you to write everything you're worried about, everything you've been thinking about, all that negative shit." He hands you the balloon with a sharpie, causing you to laugh.

"Where did you even hide this stuff?"

"In my pocket." He scrunched his nose, his teeth piercing his bottom lip as he let out a soft, tiny laugh. You do as he says though, writing out all the negative shit that had been clouding your mind lately - Eric, worrying about Kai and him going off to college soon, your image, just to name a few. You wrote it all out as Jungkook stood behind you, resting his chin on your head as his arms wrapped around your neck.

"Okay, I think that's it."

"Mmkay, let it go." He nods towards the view in front of him. You let the balloon go, watching it dance around with the light breeze, flying farther and farther away as it does so. "I don't want you to worry about any of that when I'm around. I know the world hasn't exactly been the nicest to you, but I want you to know that I'm gonna do my best to keep you safe. You and Kai." You smile to yourself as your body sinks into his, the both of you just enjoying the view and the moment, which ultimately turns into a fun, playful competition as to who can spot more landmarks than the other.

After you both had spent a good amount of time watching the sun fully sink below the horizon, he took you back downstairs to his apartment, placing your bags off to the side of his room. You slipped out of your heels, sighing contently at the feeling of your feet being out of the heels after so long. You had no idea how you lasted at the club like this, it felt like it was such a long time ago.

"Baby." Jungkook says, coming in from the living room.

"Huh?" You look up at him as you set your heels aside neatly. The nickname was something you knew would take awhile for you to get used to, especially if it was used outside of the bed. It was moreso of a 'i can't believe he's actually calling me baby' kind of thing. He's actually calling me baby instead of my first name. I'm baby.

"Look, I bought this projector but I wanted to wait until you were here so we could try it." He begins fiddling with this little mini projector he bought, connecting it to the tv and doing all these technical handyman things that you weren't really sure of.

"What movie are you going to put on?"

"That's a good question."

"I'll let you figure it out." You say, rubbing your arm, eyeing his closet. "You're the one who knows all the good stuff."

"No I—"He turns to look at you, catching you eyeing his closet. "Babe."

"Hm?" You return your attention towards him, watching as he laughs at you.

"Do you want a shirt or something?" You nod shyly. "Then go get it. You don't have to ask or act all shy about it."

"But it's your shirt."

"Whatever is mine is yours too." He turns back to the tv, scrolling through his apps to find the best movie to put on. You slowly walk into his closet, eyeing all the clothes he has, taking in the scent of his shirts as you them by. You lock eyes on a random Carhartt longsleeve folded nicely on one of his shelves and start slipping the sleeves down your arms so you can easily step out of your dress. "I think—" Jungkook stops in his tracks as he sees you starting to slip out of your dress. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, watching as he approaches you with his hands in his pockets. You feel his hands against your arms, his lips gently pressing a kiss against your shoulders.

"You think what?" You smile softly at him as he presses another kiss against your jawline before gently turning you to face him.

"I think I found a movie you'll enjoy." He lifts your chin to kiss you on the lips. You smile into the kiss before pulling away and nodding.

"Okay, that sounds good."

"Find a shirt you like?" You point at his longsleeve and he nods.

"Nice. That's one of my favorites."

"Oh, then I'll just pick something else if—"

"Why? I don't mind. Go for it." You silently nod before turning around to slip out of your dress and slip the shirt on. Jungkook changes into his pajamas behind you, following you into his bed shortly after.

"Oh my god." You laugh seeing Always Be My Maybe projected against the wall. "You asked Kai if I've watched this yet, haven't you?"

"Nooo." He lies, silently giggling to himself.

"You liar! You knew I've had this on my list and that I haven't gotten around to watching it."

"Don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart. Just pure coincidence." He says, leaving the room to grab water and shut off his living room lights. He shuts the door to his room, immediately putting the water down onto the nightstand before slipping under the sheets with you.

"Mhm." You eye him suspiciously as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to lay on his chest.

"Mhm." He mocks you, laughing before kissing you on the head. "Ready?"

"Have been. Surprised you didn't know that."

"Mmm, baby catches on quick I see." You smack his chest, cuddling up tighter against him as the movie starts. Tonight was the night that really solidified where you were at with him, because after dinner, you highkey expected him to take you home and fuck you senseless [which you weren't opposed to], but he kept it sweet. Delicate. Cute. A serious, date night to show you what you really meant to him. This wasn't just some plan to woo you and get you in your pants and keep you as the exclusive fuckbuddy - no, this was Jungkook really confessing where he stood with you, and vice versa. As you cuddled against him, you saw a lot of his cute, nerdy sides poking out whenever he would comment on certain things that came up on the movie. For the first time, you heard his really loud, obnoxiously cute laugh that you instantly fell in love with. You were with Jungkook, and you were seeing a whole side of him that many people didn't really see.

And for that, you were grateful.

youtube

can i call you baby? can you be my friend? can you be my lover up until the very end? let me show you love, oh, no pretend, stick by my side even when the world is caving in

track eleven: at my worst (remix) - pink sweat$ & kehlani

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