This story can really be described as both a BTS and ATEEZ fanfic. Both groups play a major role in this story of a girl/boy who lost her family and struggled to make it. She initially was kidnapped by Park Jimin himself. She learns a lot about hers...
Three years. It had been three years since the accident that took the only family you had. Three years since the taxi driver fell asleep at the wheel. Three years since you watched you own little sister bleed out in your own arms. Three years since you became orphaned.
You didn't blame the driver. You didn't blame the doctors. You blamed yourself. You just had to borrow the car that night. You couldn't have just walked to your friend's party. All of this death for a party.
It hadn't been easy, but no one said it would be. You had to sell the family home, the family car, drop out of school. You got a part time job at a tattoo shop. You always had a gift when it came to art, but when you were younger you never thought that you needed that gift, but now it was vital to your career.
You thoroughly cleaned your tools; you just finished on a client. Stars. How basic. "Hey, close up when your done." your boss, Mira, said peeking her head through the door.
"Got it Boss." you said shooting her a thumbs up. She ducked back behind the door leaving it to close behind her.
You cleaned all the tools and swept all the floors. You lived upstairs in an apartment above the tattoo shop. The shop was located in not the nicest corner of Seoul, but its all you could afford. You couldn't even afford it. You worked for free to live there.
You locked the door giving it a final shake to make sure it was actually securely locked. You turned off the "Open" neon light. You returned to the back of the shop climbing a pretty sketchy staircase; you swung open the thick wooden door exposing your very modest home.
The studio apartment was nothing much. A kitchen was placed to the right of the door with the living room right at your feet. The only thing that hid your bed was an old Japanese styled divider.
All the wall were an exposed red brick which gave the room and industrial fell. Large windows lined the walls opposite of the door; they looked out onto the street. Many nights you lied in bed staring out the windows to the stars. wondering if your family could see you lying in that small room alone.
You stumbled to your bed sleepiness creeping into your mind. You plopped onto the bed landing on your stomach. You hugged a pillow to your face. Breathing in the smell of the musty cotton pillowcase. You removed your shoes and socks; pulling off your jeans. You crawled under the blanket consumed by the tiredness in your eyes.
*tap*
*tap*
*BANG*
*BANG*
Your eyes shot open, "What the fuck?" you growled to yourself. You peered out your large windows looking down to the door of the tattoo shop. A dark figure dressed in a black hoodie stood there banging on the door.
"Crackheads. They are a different breed." you said to yourself as you picked your tired body out of the bed. You grabbed your pants off the floor.
*BANG*
*BANG*
"I'M FUCKING COMING."(thats what she said) you yelled as you ascended the stairs into the tattoo shop. The man was still hammering his hand against the door when you reached the door. "WE ARE CLOSED." you yelled to him through the glass. He didn't stop banging on the door.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, DUDE."
"I need a tattoo." his rough voice came through the door.
"Well sucks to suck because we are CLOSED."
"I SAID I NEED A TATTOO." his tone raised.
should i tattoo him? i could use the money.
After some thought, you unlocked the door holding it open to the hidden man. He stepped into the lobby. A cold chill accompanying him.
Black and white. That is the only way to describe this figure. His skin was white as paper, but his hair that draped over his eyes was a deep black. The hood around his face hid most of his identity, but you could see a small mole right below his bottom lip. His chunky black shoes making a clicking sound on the tile.
"Okay, I will give you a tattoo, but be ready to pay because I'm not doing this for regular price." you said walking behind the counter to grab the paperwork that was needed before you could even think of starting the tattoo.
"No paperwork." his rough voice came from the hood.
"I have to d-" you were interrupted.
"I will pay in advance. Just no paperwork." he through a bundle of cash onto the counter. You picked it up inspecting the Benjamins in your hand. Shock plastered across your face, "What do you want today?" you asked forgetting about the paperwork.
"A phoenix."
"Where?"
"Across my chest." he said gesturing to his chest.
"One phoenix coming up. Go to the first room on the left while I draw up your stencil." you watched his body disappear into the room.
You walked into the room. The man was lazily lying in the tattoo chair. His hoodie was now gone exposing his porcelain chest. His abs seem to reflect off of the dim light his skin glowing. His jawline was sharp as glass. You could finally see his face. It was young but very handsome.
Tattoos swirled around his arms and stomach. Just one large open spot in the middle of his chest.
Your breath hitched in your chest and you felt your cheeks turn pink. One of his eyelids fluttered open seeing you enter the room. You calmed yourself trying not to get too hot and heavy. As you sat in the chair next to the man, your hand brushed his arm.
Ice.
His skin was cold as ice. You ripped your hand back kind of shocked, "Wow, you are freezing."
"Yeah, I get that a lot." He scoffed. You placed the stencil on his skin. The wings stretched out over the shoulders the tips curling towards the shoulder blades.
"This is going to sting, but you know that already." you said holding the tattoo gun in your hand. The red ink spreading through his skin. The white of his complexion contrasting beautifully with the ink.
You stood and leaned across the mans chest to reach his opposite shoulder. Till then, he hadn't even made a noise. You honesty thought he fell asleep.
His chest tensed up under your needle. "Relax." you said placing your hand on his arm still freezing cold. He leaned his head back making his Adam's apple protrude from his neck. his breathing became heavy, so you pulled away.
"Dude, are you okay?" you asked setting down your tattoo gun.
The man met your eyes but he was different. His eyes were solid black. No white. The veins in his neck popping out at all angles. He sat up flashing you a toothy smile revealing two needle sharp fangs.
(Tattoo kind of looks like this)
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