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#fic: tattoos
its-leethee · 5 months
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runes finished last--
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for @raayllum <3 and inspired by their sandwichy sexy rayllum fic, "tattoos"; you can should read it here :
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pinkmelodie · 6 months
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König & his demonic back shots are plaguing my thoughts 😣😣
Warnings: 18+, this is pure filth so like yeah🤨 König x female reader, p in v, just a short blurb ୨୧
Cause I know damn well this man would give the FILTHIEST back shots. Like you feel like your being resurrected every time he slams you onto his cock.
“Maus- oh fuuuuck…” He groaned, drilling into you with so much force the bed shook.
You were moaning and screaming into the pillow, your backside being held up completely by him. He manhandled you on his cock like a doll, mindlessly slamming into your cunt over and over like he was trying to fuck the demons right out of his body.
He reached down and circled your waist, holding you up with just one arm. With his free hand he rubbed at your clit, always making sure you feel good no matter how pussy-drunk he is. The man is just so big—it feels like he’s everywhere. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was reaching all the way down to your throat. The slight pain of him slamming into your cervix overwhelmed your senses and heightened the pleasure along with the feeling of him playing with your clit. You doubted either of you were making it there after this but you could have swore you saw a flash of heavens gates every time he plunged into you.
He spread your legs wider and angled his thrusts to meet that spongey spot inside you every time his pelvis met your ass with an audible slap ! Even the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall wasn’t enough to drown out both your noises. This was definitely gonna earn you a noise complaint—tho it was worth it for the mind blowing orgasm that washed over you when that coil in your stomach finally snapped.
You came all over his cock, leaving a sticky white ring around the base of it that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of every time he slid his thick cock in and out again. With a pathetic whimper you never thought you’d hear come out of a man of his size, he pressed into you as deep as your body would let him and came hard. 
So much of his seed was stuffed inside you that it began to flow out, dripping all over both of your thighs. Before you could complain, he collapsed on top of you, crushing you with his weight. It felt like being stuck under a city bus, but you just sighed and let him have this one.
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clockwayswrites · 2 months
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5 Times the JL Learned Batman was Married and the 1 Time They Met the Spouse.
One. Two.
J’onn floated down the hallway of the Watchtower, keeping pace with Batman. The mission had been without injury or death thanks only to the man that J’onn followed.
“May I ask a question?”
Batman gave a noise of soft agreement as they entered the room where the device would be kept for further study. They would need a way to disable such things if Batman and his skills were not there for future battles.
“The question is likely both cultural and personal,” J’onn clarified.
There was a pause from Batman as he settled the device and then a nod. “Go ahead.”
J’onn dipped his head in appreciation. Batman was often one that J’onn went to when he wished to better understand the humanity he found himself surrounded by. Of all the human members, of which there were not actually many, J’onn trusted Batman the most to give him a clear and honest answer.
“There was something that I noticed when you took off your gauntlet in aim to use the HUD to disable the device. On your forth finger, starting with the thumb, there was a black band embedded into your skin. What is the purpose of this?”
Batman’s lips twitched into what J’onn was coming to understand as Batman’s version of a smile.
“It is a mark made of ink that has been embedded into the skin with a needle. Mine was done with a machine, but the practice is thousands of years old. It is called a tattoo. Black is traditional, though the ink come in many colors. The finger it is on is called the ring finger. Thumb, index or pointer, middle, ring, pinkie,” Batman said, pointing to each finger as he spoke the word.
J’onn tilted his head curiously.
Batman gave him the time to think.
“Does the mark have any association to the rings of marriage that people wear? It is, after all, encircling your ring finger.”
“They’re called wedding rings and it does,” Batman admitted. “A ring would be dangerous for me to wear while acting as Batman. The wrong hit to my finger would risk breaking bone or tearing ligament. The tattoo is a way for me to have that physical reminder of the bond without the risk of an actual ring.”
“I see. Thank you for explaining,” J’onn said. As Batman turned to leave the room, J’onn asked, “Are the others aware of your marriage?”
Batman hesitated uncharacteristically. “Only one other in the League.”
“Then I will keep the matter to myself.”
“Thank you,” Batman said with a little nod before he swept out of the room.
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marvellous1917 · 1 year
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Icarus
(Part 1)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader
Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.
Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it
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A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?
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“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.
“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.
“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.
“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.
“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”
“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.
“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.
“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”
“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.
The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.
He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.
“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.
He moved his left hand to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.
The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.
“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.
“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.
“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?
“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.
“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.
“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.
“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.
“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.
“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.
“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”
“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth
“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.
“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.
“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”
“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.
“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”
“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.
“Could you give him some more time?”
He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.
“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.
“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.
“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”
“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.
The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.
“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?
“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.
“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.
“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.
“Can I see it?”
“…sure,” the word came out as a question.
He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.
“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.
Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.
“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.
“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.
“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design
He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.
“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.
“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.
“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.
“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.
“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.
He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.
“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.
“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.
The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.
“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.
“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.
“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.
“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.
“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”
“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.
“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”
“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.
“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.
“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”
“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.
Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.
“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.
Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”
“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.
“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.
He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”
“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted
“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.
This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.
“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.
It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”
As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.
James:
Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.
It makes me feel ancient.
I hate that.
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jeoncopi · 1 month
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[1] EAGER DAYS | JJK
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are you ready to witness what's like to have a very yearning, domestically soft, vulnerable, silly yet playful and hot military boyfriend?
welcome to military jungkook's episodes!
—this entire series are based during jungkook's current state. as I'll be writing with each irl update. so this series might last until jungkook's finally free (Imao).
IMPORTANT: each episode won't be necessarily correlated to one another but some episodes could have light references to previous actions, feelings or situations.
BE AWARE OF: 18+ CONTENT.
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pair: jungkook x reader
word count: 1.1k
what’s in here?: cutely and reassuring banter.
[more espisodes]
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EPISODE 1. “piercings? OUT!”
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It’s early in the morning, you both haven’t eat.
Jungkook wakes up first, just like he has been doing it for a couple of days as he said that everything is for him to be able to accustom and get ready for his future new morning routine.
he’s been already so dedicated, using eunwoo’s gifted military watch too. — he didn’t liked thinking too much about going there but somehow, he had to if he wanted to mentally prepare. mostly when he really, really didn’t wanted to go.
he sighs as he’s brushing his teeth. so sleepy..
“okay, I’ll take them out now.” he murmurs to himself as he open his mouth, slender fingers touching his lips as he removes one of his lip piercings. “okay.. there’s one.” continuing by repeating the same process for the other one. “and.. last one.”
he takes a good look at himself in the mirror. fingers slightly rubbing his bottom lip. ‘the scar doesn’t look too bad’. he pushes the inside of his bottom lip with his tongue, having a better look at the size of the little holes. ‘yep, not too bad.’
stepping out of the bathroom as soon as he heards a sound that looks like it’s coming from the kitchen, ‘babe’. crosses his mind.
all he can see is your back as soon as you ask, “all good?” taking several steps closer to him when your body finally turns to face him and he could already get a whiff of the very tempting leftover pizza from last night that you were already heating. the smell quickly floating all over the place.
“yeah,” he responds without further ado.
your hands travel over his face into a cup as you inspected his face, slightly moving it from side to side. “your skin has gotten better.” you smile. “oh.” pausing, you start caressing your anular finger onto his bottom lip.
“oh.” he mimics your response in agreement. bambi eyes only examinating your every facial expression while yours are just so focused on his lips.
“it’s not that bad..” reassuring him, you mutter more to yourself but jungkook can still heard you very clearly.
“I thought the same.” barely managing to talk since you keep looking and touching his lips.
“I like it though.” leaving a peck on his lips. “you look sort of weird though.” you chuckle.
he does too. a sort of shy smile drawing his lips as he rubs the back of his head with his left arm, feeling a bit embarrassed without one solid reason. “it’s been a while..”
you then mirror him with a warm smile. “it really has been..” you pause. “it sort of looks like a vampire has now bitten your lip though..” you joke. “should I be jealous?” arching one eyebrow in a funny way.
jungkook laugh. “you’re so obsessed with vampires, I’m telling you.” while taking your hands off his face. he places them behind your back as he hugs you. sort of trapping you into his big body. snuggling his face into your neck sniffing you as if he was a dog and it makes you laugh.
“leave me alone!” raising your voice in between laughs. you finally detached your body from his. “you’re crazy.”
he boyishly smiles, crossing both his arms on his chest as he quickly point his chin up when he says, “you smell good.” with the tone of his voice being very playful and sultry..
he continues, this time leaning majority of his weight onto the dinner table with his right hand while his left one anxiously caresses one side of his neck, very slowly. “I’m..” he pauses. “..kinda scared of shaving my entire hair, if I’m being honest.” he confesses. “this is just step one,” referring to his piercings. “but step two..”
you listen as the pizza is finally heated. placing them with both plates on the table. your gaze lingering at him as you both comfortably seat.
“it’s hard” you respond, sympathizing with him.
“It is.” he re-affirms. “but it’s just hair, right?”
“eung. it’s not like you have a choice anyways..”
“wow. you really do help.” he jokes around at your unhelpful answer. he chuckles about it as soon as he sees your worried face. “all good babe.” being light hearted with a soft smile, he continues. “I do know.” answering to you. then he breathes, “I’m thinking of doing it myself.”
you didn’t say a thing for a few seconds. “I wouldn’t be surprised to be honest.”
he chuckles. “I am that predictable?”
“I mean.. sometimes.” you tease.
jungkook rolls his eyes. “ha.” he tsk with a bitter smirk on his lips. it makes you laugh.
“too lazy to book a date for it?” you genuinely ask, referring to the hair salon.
“mm.. not really. I just thought that I won’t ever have this opportunity ever again, you know?” he pauses. “it’s not like I could go bald just any other day.” he chuckles.
agreeing with him, “you’re right.” you respond. “I’ve heard that they shave it for you once you’re there so..” he repeatedly nods his head very cutely, making his whole luscious hair bounce.
you smile. he’s so cute.
“but I’ve also heard that you can continuing shaving your hair as long as you’re there, you know?”
jungkook laughs at your words. “babe, do you really think I’ll do this TWICE?” as his hand dramatically points at his chest when he speaks. making you both laugh.
“I’ll leave my short hair if that’s the case, but I won’t give being bald a second chance..”
“why? you don’t even know if you’ll look bad.” you pause. “maybe it’s refreshing, you’ll never know.” you tease, “maybe you’ll fall in love with your bald head, life can bring many surprises.”
jungkook only sides eyed you while he takes a bite at his pizza slice. “tsk. no.” cheeks full. “I like my hair the way it is, thanks.”
making you laugh. “okay then.” pausing. “given this situation, I’ll trust your skills.” doing a fake half reverence to him with your pizza as you take a bite.
“you should trust me!” cutely demanding, he says with a pout on his lips.
you laugh again. “I said I do!”
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scorpioracers · 1 month
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Steve mentioning in passing that he has a tattoo. And before Eddie can ask the important questions (where, when, why, what, can i see it??) the moment is gone. his brain was offline for too long at the thought of an inked up Steve Harrington he missed his chance.
But he can’t stop thinking about it. He’s always looking at Steve anyway (because how could he not) but now it’s ramped up 1000%. Any inch of skin on display and Eddie is zeroed in, looking for what he doesn’t know, but he needs to see it.
He’s being soooo obvious but he can’t help it.
He offers Erica ten bucks to push Steve in his pool to try and get Steve’s shirt off. “What am I eight? No. It will cost ten bucks for me to not tell him though..” She takes the money with a look he’s seen many times during DND night. Like she understands why he ended up a super-senior. She tells him she should have asked Mike.
Mike does it for free. But all that leads to is Robin hip-checking Mike in to the water, then Dustin and Lucas push Robin in and go in after her, and for some reason Argylle picks Eddie up and they end up in the pool too. He doesn’t get to see the tattoo and he reeks of chlorine for days.
-
Anyway in the ends Steve gets tired of waiting and one night when they’re both halfway to high he swings his legs over Eddie’s and takes his shirt off, grabs Eddie’s hand and places it on the little tattoo placed under his pec on his rib cage.
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tojisun · 8 months
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a short snapshot of what being with simon riley looks like (in my eyes) 🥹🫶🏼
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perilusjax · 3 months
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Prompt Title: Scary accidental Harem
Ghost Prince Danny
Danny was adopted by Pariah Dark after some... convincing (Clockwork, blackmailed his former lover >:3) Unfortunately, for Danny, the ghost becomes eligible for summoning.
At first, it was just some random shenanigans, like drunk teens, sleepover rituals, the usual. Until Fenton luck strikes, and he accepts his first sacrificial summoning.
Now Danny has a harem of both scary and hot men and women. Who can now visit his personal haunt/home anytime.
Also, Danny is like over a hundred years old now.
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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Would you pls write a tattoo artist Sirius x fem reader where it’s her first time getting a tattoo and she’s really nervous but he’s really hot idk sorry totally fine if not !!💗
Thanks for requesting <3
cw: mention of needle
modern au
tattoo artist!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
A bell rings as you enter the shop, and you cringe internally. It seems as though now you’re committed to being here. 
“Hi,” a blonde woman behind a desk greets you with a polite smile. “Do you have an appointment?” 
“Oh.” You hesitate, your footsteps stalling like you might back right out the door. “Um, no.” 
“That’s alright.” She waves you forward. “We have space for walk-ins today. I’ve got an appointment coming in a few, but go ahead and fill this out,” she slides a sheet of paper in front of you, “and Sirius will be out for you in a minute.” 
You take the pen she offers you with a terse smile, and even your name is hardly legible with the trembling in your fingers. Sirius, you think as you tick boxes while hardly looking at them. That’s a boy’s name. Isn’t it? You’re not sure how you feel about a boy doing your tattoo. You’d always pictured a cool, tatted-up girl with a throaty voice and a calming demeanor to set your nerves at ease. You’re tempted to ask this woman if you can just book an appointment with her for later, but when you look up she’s slipped behind the curtain to the back room. 
A few moments later, a different head pops out instead. 
“Hello,” this new man says, grinning whilst your stomach bottoms out. Fair skin, dark hair tied loosely behind his head, and tattoos from his neck going down as far as you can see before they disappear under the waist of his pants. His grin is sharp and welcoming at once, spreading over his fine features like it’s been well practiced. 
“Hi,” you manage. 
“You about done with that?” 
It takes him dropping his gaze to the paper under your hand before you realize what he’s talking about. 
“Oh.” You give a weak laugh, pushing it toward him. “Yeah.” 
“Beautiful.” He picks it up, looking it over briefly. “Ready to head back?”
You can feel your heartbeat in your mouth. “Mhm.” 
He holds the curtain open for you. You turn yourself a bit sideways to avoid brushing either him or the curtain as you go through, and he makes an amused face. 
“I’m Sirius,” he says, leading you towards the chairs in the back of the room. There’s music playing from a speaker in the corner, something quick and bass-heavy that’s probably meant to pump up more seasoned customers but makes your skin feel twitchy. Sirius gives you an expectant look. You blink in response. “And you are?”
“Oh, sorry.” You tell him your name. The syllables feel new and awkward on your tongue. 
Sirius tosses you another winsome smile. “No worries,” he reassures you, and you wonder if he gets this reaction a lot. If everyone feels this way around him, like having his full attention directed at you is a little intoxicating and a lot overwhelming. “Is this your first tattoo?” 
“Yeah.” You sit in the chair he gestures to. “How’d you know?” 
He chuckles, the sound sharp and bright. “You’re a tad jumpy, love.” You feel heat rush to your face, but then Sirius gives your calf a little pat and it all goes there instead. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You usually have problems with needles?” 
“Not really.” You squirm a little, making sure your skirt isn’t riding up your thighs. “I just don’t have any idea how badly it’ll hurt.” 
“Oh, it’s not too bad usually. Do you have an idea of what you want?” 
“Um, yeah.” You get out your phone, showing him the picture you’d found. “Could you maybe do this, like, by my hip?” 
Sirius leans closer to see. “As little as that one?” You nod, and he grins. “Yeah, that’ll be easy! I can do that in five minutes, gorgeous, don’t you worry.” 
“Really?” you ask, hope inflating in your chest. 
“Yeah, let me just…” He turns around to a small desk, drawing a careful sketch before pulling on a pair of disposable gloves. “Alright, where do you want it?”
You pull down the waistband of your skirt, pointing to the bit of skin where your hip turns into your stomach. You hold your breath as he presses the paper to your skin. When he peels it back up, the design stays. 
“Like that?” 
Your reply comes out on an exhale, soft and a bit dizzy. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s perfect.” 
“Brilliant.” Sirius looks down at his work, then back up at you. You can’t decide which makes your stomach hurt worse. “Then I think we’re ready to get started. You alright?” 
You ignore the tingly feeling in your fingertips and force yourself to answer before you can think too hard. “Yeah.” 
Sirius looks like he can tell you’re faking it, but he blazes forward anyway, giving you a reassuring smile. “Great, just lie back for me. Like that, yeah. Cool if I roll the top of your skirt down so it doesn’t get in our way?”
You nod. He’s careful and professional as he takes the waistband of your skirt, folding it over itself until it sits beneath your hips, but still a gloved knuckle brushes up against the skin of your lower abdomen. Your heart hiccups.
“Okay, love, here’s what we’re going to do.” You look up to find Sirius’ eyes already waiting for yours. They’re lighter than you’d thought from a distance, a grayish blue like the ocean during a storm. His one hand is resting on the temporary tattoo, and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat bumping through your skin. You certainly can. “I’m going to touch the machine to you for just a second so you know how it feels, and then I’ll take it off. Sound good?” 
You nod again, bracing yourself. “Okay.” 
“Alright.” 
The machine buzzes to life, and it’s an effort not to flinch. You press your lips together in case you make a sound. Sirius’ brow pinches concentratedly as he touches the needle to the stencil he’s made on your skin. It’s over before you can process it. 
“How was that?” he asks you.
You look up at him in surprise. “Fine,” you say honestly. It stung, but not nearly as bad as you’d expected, and only for as long as he was touching the needle to you. 
“Beautiful.” Sirius seems as relieved as you are, his grin flashing canines. “In that case, you’re golden. Just sit pretty for me, yeah?”
You feel like he has to be intentionally flustering you now, but you don’t have time to dwell upon it before he sets back to work. The sting really is negligible, especially with Sirius’ fingers pressing into your skin to steady his touch and his elbow resting lightly against your thigh. You feel hot in all sorts of places. 
Those gray-blue eyes flicker up to check on you when he pauses every now and then. “You’re amazing,” he praises. “Doing so well, love.” 
It doesn’t help.
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jksoftii · 1 year
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☆♡ JUNGKOOK FIC RECS ♡☆
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this is a list of my favorite jungkook fics! most of these contain smut so no minors allowed. please show your love to all these amazing authors :) !!
a - angst f - fluff s - smut
SERIES
Birds by @missbickerbocker a f s strangers to lovers au (Doctor!Jungkook x TravelBlogger!Reader)
Summary - In Jungkook's world stability is key. He knows what exactly is expected of him as head doctor of Seoul's ER Unit. But when an unfortunate collision lands him at your bedside in his own ER unit, his stable world starts to shift. — the angst, the sexual tension, everything about this is just perfect!! doctor jk 😭🙌🏻
Gradation by @shina913 a f s bestfriend to lovers au fwb slow burn (Bestfriend!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - On your wedding day your fiancé leaves you at the altar. While reeling from embarrassment and heartbreak, your bestfriend, Jungkook, wants to do everything that he can to help you heal. — i remember coming back to this fic again and again because the entire storyline in itself was so comforting, everyone around oc was so caring and jungkook especially made my heart burst in this one!
Friday nights and takeout by @ahundredtimesover a f s strangers to friends to lovers (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the café, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he — i love love love cute happy endings. there was a lot of scolding eachother but their dynamic itself was just endearing 🤧💖 @ahundredtimesover 's other works are also wonderful! you won't be disappointed checking them out!
Lost Stars by @yoongiofmine a f s strangers to friends to lovers au slow burn (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. — i read this in one sitting because it was so interesting! the twists in this story kept me engaged, i felt like i was in a movie.
Coquet by @shina913 a f s fake dating au strangers to lovers (Escort!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous. — another one by @shina913 because i can't get enough of their writing! the angst, fluff, smut everything was balanced so well. top notch literally. sexy escort jungkook made me get on my knees no joke 🙌🏻🤧
Once You Realize by @kooala a f s friends to lovers idol au (Idol!Jungkook x Idol!Reader)
Summary - Seeing your friend regularly turned out to be difficult because of your colliding schedules, but seeing him again after a couple of months something about the way you thought about Jungkook seemed to have shifted. If only you wouldn’t have started getting close with someone else before you had realized how you felt about your best friend — this indeed is the cutest falling in love story! it's a slowburn but not overwhelming. sjdhjsjs it's just adorable 🥲
ONESHOTS
In which drabble series by @onlyswan a f s established relationship au (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - this is the cutest collection drabbles of boyfriend jungkook!! i recommend all of the installments, the writing is perfect, it's packed with perfectly illustrated details and vivid emotions and you can feel the love radiate from them 🥹 Art is by far my favorite writer on here 🙌🏻 these are a few of my personal favs from the installments -
in which jungkook comes home drunk but bam can’t speak f wc: 2.6k
— no because drunk jk is a menace and we all know it. this was so chaotic and fluffy it made me want to scream!!!
in which jungkook stumbles with his new pair of eyes f wc: 2.8k
— jungkook with glasses. my weakness. but this was so cute and fluffy! it's his little journey figuring out how to handle his glasses with oc!
in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give a f s wc: 8.3k
— this is actually a angsty one but it shows their ups and downs as a couple and gives more insight into their relationship!
The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes by @oddinary4bts a f s wc: 52.9k strangers to fwb to lovers au (Idol!Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader)
Summary - you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours? — this has a LOT of angst, i won't lie i cried a few times reading this too. the character growth in this was just so phenomenonal. i go back a lot to this and read it again and again just to re-live the story. and ofc the smut is an amazing add on toooo 😭🙌🏻
My babysitters a quarterback by @ohpretty-baby a f wc: 30k enemies to lovers high-school au (Quarterback/Babysitter!Jungkook x Cheerleader!Reader)
Summary - after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.
or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age. — i love this so much oh my goshhhhh this is one of the fics which will make you laugh and cry at the same time. it's fluffy and their dynamic is absolutely adorable. it's sooooo beautifully written!! :))
Spring will come again by @baepsaesbae a f s wc: 10.9k strangers to lovers au (Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!Reader)
Summary - Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever? — everything in this just feels so warm and comforting and jk is so sweet and so precious in here. there's angst but a very cute happy ending. the writing was so well done and so well articulated!! <333
Safety Net by @pradaksj (TWO-SHOT) a f s enemies to friends to lovers roommates au (Boxer!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - On new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. — this is one of my favorite fics ever. it's hilarious and emotional at the same time. both are literally the definition of dumb and dumber 😭 @pradaksj did a lovely job at illustrating their relationship progression. boxer jk just has my entire heart 😵‍💫🙌🏻
Be-Ghoul-Ment by @dokyeomin f wc: 10.1k idiots to lovers university au (Blonde!Jungkook × Reader)
Summary - [beguilement (noun): an entertainment that provokes pleased interest and distracts you from worries and vexations] --- You hate haunted houses more than you’ve ever hated anything. You don’t understand the appeal. But this Halloween, you decide you might hate Kim Taehyung even more. — the cutest fic ever! jk and oc both being a nervous wreck in this was so relatable 😭, and I loved the side friendships with Taehyung and Hobi. It was so sweetly crafted and left me feeling happy inside.
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asfodelle · 3 months
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How I see Boxer Mo (tm)
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saquesha13 · 1 month
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!!Tattoo artist Eddie!!
Steve never imagined himself as a tattoo kind of guy. But back in ‘85 after the mall fire, he ended up getting a small matching tattoo with Robin. Just a simple little ice cream cone on his inner wrist - Robin’s idea really. Something about almost burning to death together in a fire really seemed fitting for matching permeant ink on their skin.
It opened Steve’s eyes, changed his perspective, widened his horizons if you will on the whole idea of a tattoo.
Even just a dumb ass ice cream cone that bystanders see on his wrist, that they probably assume means jack shit but in reality it means the whole world to Steve - is pretty fucking cool.
So, Steve hears about this really talented tattoo artist in Chicago and knew he wanted this guy to do his next piece.
The shop is smaller than Steve expected, smack dead in the center of the city and Steve arrived 30 minuets early to his appointment because he was pretty damn nervous.
This tattoo is not as… innocent as his matching ice cream cone with Robbie’s. It isn’t as meaningful either…
Well, okay, it still has meaning, but only to Steve. He isn’t the kind of guy to get a tattoo just because. Tattoos are expensive first of all, and he doesn’t want his entire body covered in ink. That just isn’t his style. But a peek of a tattoo here and there? Yeah, that’s not bad, that what El would call bitchin’.
“Steve? Eddie is ready for you.” The petite blonde at the front desk smiled, her warm bubbly aurora feeling so oddly displaced in a shop like this, so far from what Steve was expecting.
“Ah, okay, thanks uh…”
“Chrissy.” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes before pushing back the black beaded curtain leading to the back room.
“Thank you, Chrissy.” Steve hoped this girl couldn’t see just now nervous he was as he ducked between the beads. He was just starting to let his eyes roam around the gothic decor of the room when the hottest fucking man Steve has ever seen walks in, taking thick chunky rings off his pale fingers and putting them in the pocket of his skin tight black jeans.
Once his rings are safely put away, he tugs the thick dark curls off of his shoulders and tied it up on his head in a knot, some strands poke out framing his face.
“Steve, right?” The sexy man speaks, apparently. His deep voice sounded like honey and pure bliss to Steve’s hears. A smile stretches across his lips making the dimples - of fucking course he has dimples - poke out on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”
Steve apparently broke at the sight of this man, because seriously who the hell does this guy think he is coming in looking like THAT?! His voice cracked when he tried to speak making his cheeks turn rosey shade of pink and he had to clear his throat before properly speaking.
“U-Uh, yeah, me is Steve. I-I mean, I am Steve.” He would smack his own forehead with his hand if Eddie wasn’t busy holding it, giving him a nice firm handshake. Steve’s face was burning.
Scratch smacking face, Steve wishes he could just bash his head in on the brick decorative wall in the corner. Put him out of his misery. He’s doing a mighty fine job at humiliating himself already.
“This your first time?” Eddie smirked, his voice somehow dropping lower than it was before.
“Huh?” Steve blinked, clearly confused, no lights on in his brain as his eyes darted between Eddie’s huge brown eyes to the tattoo peaking out under the v-neck of his black long sleeve shirt. God he wished he could see what that tattoo actually was, maybe lick it.
“Your first time getting a tattoo.” Eddie clarified, the smirk never leaving his face as he finally let go of Steve’s sweaty palm.
“Oh, no actually. I’ve had - “ Steve cleared his throat again, trying his dammed hardest to chill the fuck down. “Had got another tattoo before this one.”
“So, you’re not a virgin then?” Eddie winked as he slid on his rubber gloves, covering up the black inked tattoos on his broad hands that Steve suddenly wished he looked at before they were gone from his sight. Then he realized what Eddie just said and his head snapped up to the playful look on Eddie’s face.
Shit. Is Eddie actually flirting with him? Is this how Eddie speaks to all of his clients? Or has Steve finally lost his marbles?
“Nope, defiantly not a virgin.” Steve watched Eddie’s movements closely as he finalized setting up his supplies, grabbing the stencil of Steve’s tattoo. “Not a virgin with tattoos either.”
Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, something gleaming in his dark eyes that makes Steve’s levi’s suddenly feel a little too tight. The grin on Eddie’s face is down right sinful. “Well, Steve, as long as the sketch looks good to you and you are still good with the placement, we can get started.”
Steve leans over and looks down at Eddie’s sketch of what he had requested sitting in Eddie’s gloved hands. Just looking at the two words, at the way Eddie wrote the font knowing it was his work that will be forever on Steve’s body has Steve’s blush refusing to go away.
“Uh, cool. Okay. Yeah it looks good, really good.” Steve had to lean over Eddie’s shoulder to fully see the entire page, not that it was really necessary.
“Lay down on the bed, on your stomach.” Eddie gestured with his chin to the left, where the tattooing bed was. “Make sure you get those jeans off first,” Eddie huffed out a laugh as Steve was about to settle down on his belly, his face turning beat red in embarrassment feeling idiotic.
“You do want your ass tattooed still, right?” Eddie asked, his voice smug at the flustered look on Steve’s face.
“Well, yeah. Obviously. That is why I am here.” Steve scoffed, wondering why the hell he is blushing like a teenage girl in this sexy ass man’s presence. Usually Steve is the one making people blush, not the other way around.
“I don’t usually undress my clients… but I would for you.” Eddie nibbled on his bottom lip, making damn sure that Steve’s face stayed tomato red as Steve swore he saw Eddie look at him from head to toe.
He had to take a deep breath to get his damn body to cooperate downstairs before unbuttoning his jeans and tugging down his fly so he can scoot the denim and his grey briefs down over the curve of his ass leaving them just barley covering his junk in the front and staying on his legs.
He couldn’t bring himself to say anything as he climbed on the bed on his stomach, not trusting his voice whatsoever as his eyes said more than enough, keeping them planted on Eddie’s.
“This good?” He rested his chin on his hands, his entire bare ass out in the open, wondering why the hell Jonathan Byers failed to mention how damn hot his favorite tattoo artist was.
Eddie for once seemed a little lost for words. He doesn’t stay in the room when his clients undress, it’s unprofessional. He never ever offers to take their clothes off for them either. But for some reason his feet stopped working the second Steve’s fingers went to unbutton his jeans.
“Absolutely perfect, pretty boy.” Eddie damn near purred, wondering how he lucked out, to be the one to tattoo this angels ass. Getting fucking payed to touch his ass. To tattoo the words Bite Me on his juicy round cheeks.
It isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo tattooing someone’s butt cheeks. He’s done almost every body part at this point in his tattooing career. But fuck, no client has ever affected him, not like this.
“Skins sensitive here.” Eddie licked his lips as he stepped close to the bed, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves so he could really feel Steve as he ran his fingers over the exposed skin before putting the shaving cream along his ass, shaving the light colored peach fuzz right off his literal peach. “Need numbing cream, sweetheart?”
“No. Don’t need numbing cream. Wanna feel it.” Steve hummed, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. Steve’s red face has faded to pink, finally calming down a bit trying to sit still so he isn’t wiggling his ass in Eddie’s face - not that he thinks Eddie would really mind too much if he did.
Eddie muttered something under his breath, his hands stilling over his ass from where he was wiping the shaving cream away with surprisingly soft hands.
It’s funny, Steve came in set on only getting one tattoo. But as he laid here on the bed, the tattoo gun buzzing as the needles push against his ass, all he can think about is coming back, getting more ink on his body, all over his tan skin as an excuse to come back and see Eddie.
To come back and get Eddie’s hands on him.
But when his appointment was over - much sooner than Steve would have liked - turns out he didn’t need to come back here.
Because Eddie invited him to go home with him.
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lemoncrushh · 6 months
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Tattooed Heart - Story Page
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SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.
PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry
TROPES: Enemies to Lovers
MUST BE 18+ TO READ
WORD COUNT: 34k+
FEEDBACK IS LOVE
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PART I
PART II
PART III
PART IV
PART V
PART VI
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marvellous1917 · 1 year
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Icarus Falling
(Part 2)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader
Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.
Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.
Part one ⬇️:
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A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3
———————
Bold is reader’s thoughts.
Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.
The size of the tattoo is in inches.
———————
Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?
Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.
The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.
The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.
“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.
“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.
“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.
“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.
Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.
Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.
“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.
“Why’s that?”
Fuucckkkk.
“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.
“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.
Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.
“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.
Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.
“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.
Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.
To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.
“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”
“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.
“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.
“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.
“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.
“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“
“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.
“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.
“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.
“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”
You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.
He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.
“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.
“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.
“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”
“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.
“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.
“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.
“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.
“I’m good I swear, now go!”
“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.
Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.
James:
Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?
Send me the address to the shop
Now… please
Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.
You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.
James:
See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.
Little shit.
————
You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.
Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.
Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.
Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.
“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.
“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.
Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.
“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.
“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”
“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.
“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.
“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”
His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.
“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.
“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.
“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.
“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”
“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.
“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.
“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.
“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.
“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”
“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.
Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.
“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.
“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”
Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.
Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.
The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.
If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.
He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.
You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.
He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.
“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.
“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”
Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.
“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.
“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Christ alive.
“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.
“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.
“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.
“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”
Like I could regret you.
You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.
“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.
You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.
“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.
“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.
I like him. He says okie dokie.
“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.
You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.
“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.
“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”
“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.
“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.
“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.
“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.
————
You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.
“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.
“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.
“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.
God he’s pretty.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.
“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.
“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.
“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.
“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”
“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.
————
The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.
“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”
“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.
He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.
You sat in silence as he started to speak.
“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.
The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”
Silence.
“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”
A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-
“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.
“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.
This should not be turning me on, shit.
“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”
His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?
“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”
Oh Clint sounds fun.
“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”
He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.
“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.
“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.
“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.
“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.
“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.
“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.
Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.
Ok right back to it. Got it boss.
“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.
“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.
Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.
“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.
He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”
“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.
“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.
“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”
“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.
“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.
“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.
Shit.
“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.
“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.
“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.
“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.
He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.
“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.
“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.
That’s a new one.
“Uh, say $180?” You respond.
“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.
He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”
You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.
They were hundreds.
“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.
“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.
You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”
“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.
“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”
“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.
“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.
“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”
There it is.
“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.
“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.
“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.
“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.
Fuck me running.
“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.
He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.
“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.
“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.
You say nothing.
He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.
“Would you?” He asks softly.
“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.
“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.
“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.
He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.
Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.
His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.
Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.
“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.
“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.
He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.
Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.
————
A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘
I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.
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kquil · 8 months
Text
POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 5
05 : DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE
SUM : It’s been a few weeks and James makes a reappearance in your life, Remus too — they’ve fallen into bad habits. 
G. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; remus smokes ; drunk james ; reader is sad ; this is a little sad chapter ; fergus is an amazing, lovable manager ; i’m horrible at writing the scottish accent! ; james is an adorable drunk ; james’ car is sexy and red ; remiss has eye bags and smells of cigarette smoke ; uh oh ; it’ll get better soon! 
LENGTH : 2.8k
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You stare in disbelief at the notice that stares back at you mockingly from behind the glass door of the ‘Marauders Tattoo Parlour’. 
‘NOTICE’ it said in bold red sharpie, right above a handwritten message that you recognise as Remus’ neat penmanship, ‘due to personal reasons, Prongs, Padfoot and I (Moony) will be keeping the parlour closed until further notice. We kindly ask that you remain patient as private matters are being sorted through and resolved. We are still open for online and phone consultations to discuss designs and potential future appointments. Kindest Regards, The Marauders’. Beneath the polite and brief explanation of current circumstances was a business email address and phone number as well as working times for phone calls. 
The weeks following your discovery of the boys’ true relationship, you rarely ever passed their parlour. A little over three weeks has passed now and you’ve finally been able to walk past their studio doors close enough to read the notice. You’re frozen in place as dread and worry cultivates shards of sharpened ice to grow within you. Freezing up your senses, freezing up your mind and freezing up limbs. Yet, your heart is racing like never before, your blood pounding against your ears like a drummer gone mad. 
The feeling that settled in your stomach wasn’t a pleasant one, especially when you felt completely responsible for the boys’ sudden hiatus in business. They had often talked to you about how much the parlour meant to them, how it was their best investment and remains their biggest source of opportunity — an opportunity to help people express themselves. It’s a form of freedom that many have been deprived of (themselves included) and they were honoured to now be able to provide that same freedom to others. For them to completely close up shop like this was completely bizarre. 
How long have they been closed for?
You bite your lip and will yourself to move your feet, the ice in your limbs breaking uncomfortably, shattering into a million knives of ice, shooting pins and needles up your arms and legs as if your blood had been frozen up too. As you walk away, you slip your phone back into your pocket, where your hands also remain. 
While contemplating what could have happened to your favourite tattooists and piercer, you made sure to save a picture of their business phone number onto your photos. 
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You were never able to call their business number. And you had many excuses lined up to absolve your cowardly behaviour. The main one being that it was their business number, it wasn’t meant to be used for a conversation between friends. Were you even still friends at this point? The thought made you shiver and stole the appetite right from your stomach. It was a greedy little thing cowardice, regret too. They’ve stolen many things from you, your appetite was their favourite thing to purloin, motivation another, happiness as well. Nasty, selfish and greedy thieves. But you weren’t brave enough to confront them and make them stop. And that, alone, makes you their willing accomplice — so who’s really to blame? 
It didn’t help that through this entire ordeal, you’ve realised that none of the boys have exchanged phone numbers with you. To say that you were bitter was an understatement. If they never gave you their number, why would they want you ringing them in the first place? 
…maybe they didn’t have a reason to? You couldn’t remember a single time after the day you first brought them that homemade ‘thank you’ lunch where you hadn’t seen them on a regular basis. And now that you were used to seeing them almost daily, your life has since been bleeding of colour and vibrance. Days are dull and monotonous, it’s hard to motivate yourself to do pretty much anything, let alone your job.
“Yer’ve been sighin’ so much these days, I’m startin’ to see wrinkles forming’ on yer cute lil’ face lass,” Furgus comments, nudging your hip with his own as he passes by you behind the counter. 
Flustered, you scramble to get back to work with a quick apology, evidence of your embarrassment heating up your cheeks as you do so, “I’m so sorry Gus,”
With hearty laugh, the burly Scottish man pats you on the back and whispers some reassuring words, “Yer’ve got nothin’ ta worry about lass, I jus’ wan’ed ta see if you were al’ight is all,”
“I’m okay,” you smile grateful for his care only to be met with suspicious eyes and a deep, bearded frown. 
“Don’t grow a habit o’ lyin’ ta me lass, it won’t do ya any good,” his words make more heat rise to your cheeks but you reassure him as best as you can in between taking orders and serving drinks. It was no use however, Fergus saw you as his own daughter, he knew you like the back of his hand and you know that he had his suspicions of your odd behaviour lately — all derived from a sadness he didn’t like you wearing. Thankfully, he decided to leave you alone with your sorrow and regret and focused back on managing the pub. Tonight was pretty average, you saw the regulars and greeted them with a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes; if any of them noticed, they never said a thing about it to you. Thank god. 
It seemed like it would be another regular night until you caught sight of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye. You had just gotten back from your break when you spot James at a far table, nursing a pint and buried under a sheet of suffocating misery all on his lonesome. 
“James?” you breathed in disbelief with a wide-eyed stare directed right at him. 
“You know that guy?” Bonnie, your coworker, asks in a whisper into your ear and you had no choice but to nod your head in confirmation — you’ve already outed yourself, there was no point in lying, “well he’s been drinkin’ himself to death for the past hour or so, what’s gotten into him? D’ya know?”
“No…” you’re a liar. 
“Well ya be’er find out or else imma have ta kick the poor bastard outta ‘ere,” Fergus comments, his arms folded over his large chest and his brows knitted together in disapproval. 
“May I—…?” you begin to ask softly, sending a curious look towards Fergus who meets your eyes with a small smile and a wink. 
“Consider yerself off fer da night,” with a smile, you thank him and take a breath before making your way over to the miserable tattooist. 
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“Angel!” James smiles happily at the sight of you, his drunken state adding an adorable dopiness to his already charming grin, “It’s you~” he coos and wraps his arms around your middle to bury his face into your stomach when you were close enough, “I missed you so much, angel~” he sighs, his voice muffled by your clothes as he refuses to detach himself from you, “even if this is just another dream…” you barely hear him and you almost curse yourself from being able to because his words make your heart drop to your stomach. 
“James,” you ask softly, “can you please get up?” 
“Why?” he shuffles to press his chin into your lower belly and stare up at you with those sweet hazel eyes of his. The sneaky bastard, he knows how weak at the knees you become from his simple stare. You’ve never told him so and often put in the effort to not show it but you know, he knows. 
“Because you need to go home,” he gives an incredulous look at your reasoning and he’s adorable doing so, even in his drunken state. 
“Why would I need to do that when you’re right here?” he slurs and hiccups, your heart pounding erratically at his words.  
“James please—”
“No!”
“James—”
“‘m not going home! I wanna stay here with you,” he presses his face into your stomach again and sobs into your clothes, “you’re gonna disappear again,” he sobs miserably, “I don’t want that…” 
“Please just let me call you a taxi James?” he doesn’t respond, pressing his face further into your stomach as you comb your fingers through his dark hair, you touch gentle and comforting, coaxing him into some compliance, “remind me of your address again and I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”
“NO!” 
You suppress a defeated sigh. 
It takes several minutes of coaxing until you’re finally able to take his phone from him. He refuses to let you call him a taxi and you weren’t going to force him to walk home alone in his drunken state so you’re going to have to do the one thing you can think of that’ll guarantee his safe return home. Not that you’ll enjoy it because it means confrontation. 
“Can you tell me your passcode, please, James?” you ask in a gentle whisper, only to him, “I need to do something very important on your phone,”
With a large smile he recites the digits, “22nd of the 6th, 17,” the way he says it makes your raise a brow. Sensing your curiosity, James answers your silent question, “is the day Moony, Pads and I became official,” he giggles adorably to himself as you smile somewhat sadly — another reminder that you should stay away. You don’t say anything to prompt him further and, instead, type in the code before looking through his contacts. It takes you a moment but you’re eventually pressing call and waiting patiently for Remus to pick up.
“…James?” Remus’ familiar, kind voice speaks tiredly through the phone and you don’t know whether to breath a sigh of relief or worry, “Hello?”
It takes you a moment but you finally will yourself to speak, “Hey, um, Remus?” 
“…Dove?” he’s in complete disbelief and it’s evident in his voice, “Is that really you?”
“uh…yeah,” you chirp sheepishly and Remus is all forms of elated but his excitement dwindles quickly when he realises how you’re able to call him. 
“Why do you have James’ phone?” you were right to call him, knowing that he was preceptive, reasonable and easy to talk to even with the tension in the air. Patiently, you explain the situation, never taking your fingers away from James’ hair as he practically purrs into your form, adoring the physical contact and muttering to himself happily. It’s especially loveable like this, considering that it’s him being dopey and giggly and not anyone else.
“Oh…” Remus sighs, clearly disappointed, “I’m so sorry, darling, I’ll get him right away,” 
“It’s no trouble, Rem,” it was hard not to cringe when the familiar nickname easily rolls off your tongue. As if nothing happened — oh how you wish for such a reality!
“Just tell me where you are and I’ll be right over,” you don’t know if you’re just imagining it but there’s a considerable shift in his voice, he sounds much softer after hearing his nickname easily fall from your lips. 
“We’re at the Boar and Elephant pub on Chapel Road,” 
“Alright, I’ll be there soon,” with a click, he was gone and you were left to keep James satisfied until he got there. It wasn’t an overly tough job; James seemed perfectly content nuzzling into your stomach with his arms hugging you in place as your fingers massage his scalp and gently groom his hair. He’s like a puppy, eager to receive affectionate cuddles and pets. If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it like crazy and you giggle to yourself at the mental image it conjures up. 
“I missed that…” James mutters, maybe to himself but it wasn’t clear.
“I’m sorry?”
“I miss the sound of you giggling,” you don’t know what to say but he continues, going off on a tangent, “it’s so pretty, you’re so pretty. It’s like the sound of a cute little bell ringing…so pretty— pretty pretty pretty!” you can’t lie to yourself, he’s absolutely precious, “I miss you so much angel, why did you go away? I don’t want you away, I want you with me, and with Remus and with Sirius too…” he murmurs something into your stomach that you weren’t able to pick up but don’t press him further on the matter, fearing that your heart might just about burst if you do. You can’t afford to hope for such a fantasy with them when it could never become a reality. 
It just wasn’t possible…
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“Not fair!”James whines, making grabby hands at you as Remus, with the force of a gentle giant, manoeuvres him into the back seat of a red Jaguar XJR. Dealing with a defiant baby was a struggle so dealing with a giant, beefy baby like James Potter was like trying to control a hurricane. But Remus had a magic touch and arguably had more of a silver tongue than Sirius did so he made it look like a walk in the park. It was astounding, “I wanna be with my angel!” James sobs as Remus closes the door on him, putting a stop to James’ needy cries. 
“She’s not yours, she’s no one’s,” was Remus’ response even though he had already closed the door, James unable to hear him and the hint of dismay coherent in his tired voice, “thank you for looking after him, Dove, you’re always too kind,”
“N-no, don’t worry about it,” he smiles down at you, silence filling up the space between your two lonely figures under the amber lamplight. He doesn’t seem to mind the hush in conversation but knowing that his eyes were fixed on you was unnerving, “so! Is that your car?” you ask, desperate for a change in conversation; your restless fiddling making your intentions obvious but Remus keeps to himself. 
“No, no, it’s not mine,” he answers with a short chuckle, “this is James’ car,”
“Oh…” you hum to yourself thoughtfully, eyes carefully examining the body and model of the car, “I see,” it looks like a car James would have, you think to yourself. There was more silence until Remus finally brings himself to commence your farewells. 
“Well I suppose I should head off, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” your heart stutters, almost to a stop, at his words, even more so when you see him hesitate upon leaning down. A victim to your own habits, you find yourself closing your eyes and awaiting his gentle kiss goodbye against your temple.
…But it never comes.
“Goodbye then,” he calls over his shoulder, and rounds the car to get to the driver’s seat. 
“—Do you smoke?” you suddenly ask, in some part desperate to extend your interaction with each other and other parts curious of the lingering cigarette smoke you smell on his clothes, masking his usually comforting fragrance. It’s strong enough that you were able to catch it from your formal amount of distance with each other and it struck you as odd. You had never seen him smoke before. 
Remus laughs a brief and strained sound as he looks at you from over the hood of the car, did he always have such deep eye-bags? “Not usually,” he sends you a sheepish smile once you’re finally able to meet his eyes, “but I’ve recently taken to it again,“ he sees worry and grief fill your eyes and hurries to correct himself, ”—But don’t worry, Dove,” his features are gentle and kind, warm and… forgiving, “I’m okay,” 
The world slows as you watch him bend his head to sit in the drivers seat. It’s been too long. For you, at least. This can’t continue. It scares you to think about where this may go if you leave it to late. It’s only been three weeks! If this is the result…you dread to think about what would happen if things went on for longer than that. James is drinking himself to death. Remus is smoking cigarettes. What about Sirius? Your stomach twists uncomfortably, painfully, your heart too. 
“No! You’re not!” you shout, tears of anger welling up in your eyes as Remus stops and looks over at you once again, his breath hitching when he sees your eyes glistening with tears, “you’re not okay…” 
“Dove—”
“I’m coming by tomorrow,” you announce, “at lunch,” this was a commitment you’re making, a commitment to him, to them. Even if you’re heartbroken, that doesn’t give you the right to be a bad friend. You brave a watery smile, “I’ll make your favourites…so you better be there!”
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→ NEXT : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES
A/N : i’m so sooo sorry for my depiction of the scottish accent, i really tried my best, please don’t hate me! if you have any ideas of how i could make it better, please say so, i’d really appreciate it. Also, i know that this isn’t completely fluff but we’re getting there, you’ll have to wait and see in the next chapter! 
NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST
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pinkiemme · 7 months
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Tattoo artist reader getting to do all of these on the boys
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