#Between the LInes

[ruhlare]

[shrimpybbq]

II filming II

between the lines

A firm press of plush lips against his had Drew melting into the couch, head spinning at the feeling, as he tentatively moved his hands from laying limply beside him to slowly trail them up the smooth thighs straddling either side of his body. He was filming a scene with obx actress!reader, and though the pair had done plenty of scenes like this previously, something about today felt different - more serious perhaps. Maybe it was the way her body was pressed up against his as her chest heaved with excitement, or maybe it was the way his pelvis was pressed up against hers. Drew couldn’t quite tell, but as his hands reached to palm at the soft flesh of her ass, he let himself roll his hips, pushing the growing erection in his pants against her core. The soft whimper that left her lips had him groaning into her mouth, almost pulling away as she reciprocated the gesture, eagerly grinding her core against him too. He felt her smile into the kiss, and suddenly her hands that were resting at the nape of his neck were reaching down to the hem of his shirt, harsh upward tugs indicating her wishes.

“Off- take it off,” Clara mumbled against his lips, only reluctantly separating when Alex took far too long to carry out her command. “Alexxxx,” she whined, in character.

Drew grinned as he cheekily removed the shirt from his body, his head lolling back to rest on the couch as her smaller hands began to roam across the expanse of his chest. He let out a small chuckle when she leant forward, placing soft kisses against the tanned skin. It was all fun and games until her nails trailed over the overgrown happy trail that continued past the waistband of his jeans. Breath hitching, Drew reveled in the sensation of her manicured nails moving lower and lower, his heart beating faster than he believed to be possible. But he had a line to say now, and he felt both thankful and vengeful at the interruption.

“Hey, hey- c’mon, it’s your turn sweetheart,” Alex suggested to Clara, “take this off… let me see you baby.”

Drew’s hands eagerly attacked the flimsy fabric of her shirt, recalling that the shiny number was supposedly a suggestion from none other than José in an earlier scene filmed between obx actress!reader and Pedro. The skirt she was wearing had already ridden up to the point of no return, the fabric bunched up around her hips. As Drew pulled off the shirt, he groaned loudly. The director had spoken to the pair before, bringing in the intimacy coordinator to help prepare them for the scene they were about to shoot, and even though they both knew it was professional, a small part of Drew couldn’t help the way his eyes dragged down to focus on her bare chest. It was what Alex would do anyway, he reasoned with himself.

“Fuck baby, look at these tits,” Alex mumbled out, his hand reaching towards her chest. His large hands pawed at her breasts, squeezing and fondling the flesh in his grasp. Alex gently thumbed over her nipple, grinning devilishly as it harden beneath his touch, “Oh, you like that? Yeah?”

“Mhmm, feels so good,” Clara whimpered out in response.

Drew swore his heart skipped a beat at the noise, groaning again as obx actress!reader’s hips rolled against his once more, this time a little harder. He knew what was coming next, and even though he had mentally and emotionally prepared for it, he couldn’t shake the pit of nerves that had been residing in his stomach for days. Leaning forward, Drew licked a firm stripe against the flesh of obx actress!reader’s breast. As another whimper left her mouth, his mouth moved to latch around her nipple.

Clara’s hands jumped to Alex’s hair, tugging him closer to her chest, pushing him further into her embrace.

“Oh my god,” Clara groaned, “please, I need more.”

Drew pulled away from her breast, baring his teeth slightly to showcase to the camera the way he scraped them across the skin of her nipple, eliciting a needy gasp from obx actress!reader. His mouth moved over to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Drew couldn’t deny at this point that he was fully hard from this scene, his cock straining in his boxers at the tempting scene in front of him. The literal girl of his dreams, half naked on his lap, grinding against him as she begged him for more. He knew he would dream about this later that night.

Alex couldn’t stop watching the way Clara reacted to his mouth, his big doe eyes staring up at her to see how she cried out with every flick of his tongue.

Drew felt his grown out mullet being tugged harshly, pulling him away from obx actress!reader’s chest. The low and heady groan he let out was entirely him in that moment, not his character in the slightest. The feeling of her fingers in his hair was driving him wild. He knew that now, she would start to unbutton ‘Alex’s’ pants as both characters grew more desperate.

Obx actress!reader began to fumble with the button on his jeans, trying to undo the mechanism with her trembling fingers. She looked up at Drew, his head tossed back once more as he breathed heavily, the intensity of the scene getting to both of them. Though the pair had kissed before, far more than once, getting to this point was something that neither had ever reached in their real lives. Even though she was playing Clara, part of her genuinely felt the same nerves and anticipation that Clara would feel.

Clara giggled as she finally undid the pesky button on Alex’s jeans, sliding down the zipper. Alex lifted his hips and let her tug his jeans down a little, giving her more access to his boxers. Alex groaned loudly as Clara’s hand palmed at his cock over the fabric, her soft voice whispering in his ear.

“Excited?”

“Fuck baby, c’mere. Stop teasing me,” Alex responded, gripping her wrist to halt the up and down movements she had begun to carry out.

Obx actress!reader felt her breath hitch as Drew’s hands moved under her skirt, mimicking fumbling with her underwear. He was supposed to rip them off of her body, but it seemed like the fabric was less than pliant, the angle of their bodies not allowing a clean tear. Instead, Drew pushed the fabric aside, baring more of her ass to the camera. It was a new feeling to be so exposed to the camera, herself never having filmed such a scene. And yet, it almost felt comfortable knowing that it was with Drew, rather than some other actor. The scenes she had filmed with the other men, they had been suggestive, but nothing where she had felt so exposed and almost vulgar - unlike this scene. She had to portray being violated and unsafe before, but now, Clara was supposed to be taking control and making a choice for herself.

The camera moved to the side, taking in the closeness of the two heaving bodies. Obx actress!reader had her body flush against Drew’s chest, her breasts pressed against the firm muscle as she leaned in to kiss him once more. They both knew that next, they needed to start actually acting as if they were having sex. She wouldn’t admit it, but the trepidation of being so physically and emotionally close to Drew in that moment was making her stomach churn.

“C’mere baby, lift your hips up,” Alex instructed, his large hands gripping at her hips to guide her in place, only letting go to position himself at her entrance. He looked up at Clara, his eyes filled with a mix of hesitation and filthy desire, and watched her nod gently at his unspoken question. With his hands back on her hips, he slowly lowered her down onto his cock, letting her walls stretch around his length slowly.

Obx actress!reader flung her head forward, doing her best to act like she was feeling genuine pleasure. Tucked into Drew’s neck, she let out a needy whine. Even though it was all fake, the heavy petting and groping had her worked up. She truly wished the moment were real, alone in her apartment near the set, no cameras - just her and Drew.

Drew wasn’t faring much better. Having his cock touched like that by the girl of his dreams had the intended effect, and if it were any other scenario, he would’ve been ecstatic. Now here she was straddling his lap, slowly moving her lower half up and down to mimic riding him, and he thought he might go crazy. He had been letting out low groans as she moved up and down, his character Alex obviously enjoying the moment. It was only when he felt obx actress!reader’s nails scratch at his scalp - fisting his hair as she let out a particularly loud moan, that he let out an equally loud and very real groan of his own. He felt it reverberate in his chest and Drew couldn’t help the way his head fell, slumping his frame into her chest. His head was now level with her breasts again and acting purely on instinct, his teeth began to nip at the smooth flesh.

“Alex, please…. I’m going to cum,” Clara whimpered, her thighs beginning shake as she reached her limit. She clung to his body as his grip tightened around her waist, her hips moving quicker against his own.

“Let go for me, baby. Let go,” Alex commanded.

Clara let out a loud cry as she came around his cock, her body trembling as the pleasure ran through her. Lost in a haze, she didn’t even realise as Alex came quickly after her.

Obx actress!reader slumped against Drew, her head returning to rest in the crook of his neck, as she forced the oxygen to enter into her lungs. Even though she only had to fake an orgasm for the scene, her heart was beating out of her chest and she felt winded. She smiled to herself softly at the feeling of Drew’s lips against her shoulder placinh small, soft kisses against the skin that now glistened with a sheen of sweat. It was a sweet gesture and not one in the script. Was this something he always did after sex? The young woman almost wished to find out for herself.

“And cut! That was great work, guys! You both really brought the passion and steam to the scene that I was needing. I’m so proud of you two, especially getting it right on the first take! Amazing work,” The director cried. In his glee, the days filming was wrapped up early, and many crew members left the set entirely.

Drew looked towards obx actress!reader and noted the way she seemed so comfortable against his chest. He almost felt bad as the set assistant wandered over with two robes, choosing to take them both, letting her remain in position.

“Here,” Drew said, gently placing the robe over her shoulders. Her bare back now covered had Drew almost mourning losing sight of her skin.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, “I don’t wanna get up. I’m so tired.”

Drew just smiled to himself at her cute expression, her big sleepy eyes staring up at him. Taking the arms of the robe, he began to thread her arms through the holes, softly shuffling the fabric across her body and wrapping it across her chest. Another thing he mourned losing sight of. Nevertheless, he needed to play it cool - he was a professional after all. Just because they had kissed in the past didn’t mean he had the freedom to do whatever. He was a gentleman. Now covered, he pulled her body away from his and adjusted her to his eye level.

“You want to head back to the apartment?” He asked. She shook her head softly in response.

“Drew, can we get ice cream?” Obx actress!reader asked, a small pout settling over her lips while waiting for his response.

Drew let out a hearty laugh. His favourite girl was always unpredictable. “Of course, sweetheart. We could never forget our ritual.”

it’s finally here! to be honest, i’m not super happy with this and struggled to get it out on paper, but pls let me know if you all liked it! this is different to what i usually write so i would love feedback ❤️

Taglist: @rafegf-real @futuremrscameron @writtenbyhollywood @elyseesarchive @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @willowpains @mazingmarissa23 @yuckblushin @harrys-housewife

[riverofthought]

[bbina]

it’s been a week since that night with wonbin and things between you and him have been a little weird.

these past recent days days wonbin has been facetiming more often, beginning to start petty arguments when you wouldn’t answer his calls and texts or when you’d blow him off to do something else you planned for the day. he’s been a lot clingier and you’re not too sure how to feel

in retrospect, you thought this whole fake dating thing with wonbin would only be until the trip ended just to cut some awkwardness between sungchan and his girlfriend, but after some unforeseen circumstances, you and wonbin had to keep playing pretend a bit longer. now everything has returned back to normal, you and sungchan finally patched up and you’ve gotten over him at this point. so you’re a bit confused on why wonbin is still keen on playing pretend

today wonbin asked again if you were free and if you wanted to go shopping with him since he feels bored and wanted to hang out but you responded that you were preoccupied with some family stuff with eunseok but in reality you didn’t have plans at all. you wanted to have some space between you guys for now especially after that night where he seemed to indirectly confess his feelings. this way you’ll have more time to think about how to break this arrangement you have with him as nice as possible without the possibility of hurting his feelings but you know otherwise that no matter how nice you put it, one way or another it will definitely strain whatever relationship you have with him right now

you could almost hear the frown on his face on the other line when you declined. the last thing he said was “oh okay. text me if anything happens, i’ll call you later” before he hung up the phone

you throw your phone on your bed as you flopped next to it, staring up at your ceiling just thinking about the past few months. how you’ve managed to convince all your friends that you and wonbin have been going out for a while and that you just decided to keep it a secret for god knows how long. you fear that your lies was gonna catch up with you soon but you shook away the thought

just as you could think more about the possible consequences of your actions, you hear someone knocking on your door.

you sat up in surprise. who could it be? could it be wonbin? did wonbin somehow find out that you lied that you were spending time with your family?

the door opens to reveal sungchan.

you let out a sigh in relief as you yelled at him for scaring you. sungchan simply just laughs and sits on the foot of your bed

“what do you want, jinsu?” you groan, lying back down on your bed, not even bothering to give him a glance

sungchan pokes your legs, “what’s with that reaction? aren’t you happy to see me come over?”

you rolled to your side, grabbing your phone as you scroll through wonbin’s updates. you begin to feel a little guilty for ignoring wonbin for the past few days. he deserves to know what you’re feeling

[1:27 PM] w ♥︎: just arrived in myeongdong baby [1:27 PM] w ♥︎: look at this hoodie. it’s such a vibe [1:28 PM] w ♥︎: y/nnnnnnn [1:32 PM] w ♥︎: ur taking too long to reply so i bought it. even if its new u can steal it if you'd like <3 [1:35 PM] w ♥︎: are u busy?? [1:43 PM] w ♥︎: baby this would look so good on u. do you want it? [1:47 PM] w ♥︎: passed by a jewelry store so i bought us matching necklaces [2:00 PM] w ♥︎: a reply might be nice..

instead of replying, you turned don’t disturb on and shut your phone off. sungchan notices your weird attitude and lays down next to you

“what’s wrong” sungchan asks as he pokes your cheek. you turn to face him and shrug,

“nothing”

“sure?”

“what do you want sungchan” you grumbled, rolling your eyes as you sit up. sungchan laughs, used to your mood swings. you wish he could just say it. you know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to do something

“let’s hang out. i miss you” sungchan smiles, poking your sides making you jump. you hate how you’re so ticklish and sungchan knows that.

you grab your pillow and smack sungchan square in the face. sungchan lets out a low grunt of pain

“jesus christ when did you get so violent?” sungchan groans, “can’t i just ask to hang out with my best friend?”

“go bother eunseok instead” you groan, turning your back on him. you really didn’t want to deal with anyone today

“but eunseok doesn’t want to go out” sungchan whines, poking your shoulder endlessly but you still don’t budge.

“y/nnnnn” sungchan drawls, now laying next to you. with an irritated sigh, you sit up and shoo him out of the room as you get dressed. sungchan cheers as he heads out of your room. you rolled your eyes before chuckling. okay maybe there was no harm into this as it has been a while you hung out with sungchan one on one

—

wonbin stares at his phone for what seems like the nth time today. it’s been a couple hours since he texted you and not once did you sent a reply back nor did you even look at his messages. the big "Delivered" staring right back at wonbin

wonbin frowns as he stares at his lockscreen which was a picture of you. you asked him to change it when you saw it since it was a candid picture of you laughing but wonbin didn't listen and insisted he keeps it because to him you look so cute much to your dismay

“why isn’t she replying to me..” wonbin mumbles to himself, shutting his phone off as he pockets it. he sighs and continues on his day. pretending that your sudden change didn’t affect him at all.

wonbin was walking to the bus stop when he passes by the cafe he was raving to you about. he wanted to go with you but you kept declining his invites to hang out.

as he was passing by, he sees someone familiar with his peripheral vision.

he knows that physique anywhere. it looked like sungchan. he stops walking and stands closer at the window to take a closer look

and lo and behold, it was in fact sungchan!

wonbin was about to enter the cafe to greet sungchan but then he sees that he was with someone. that someone being you

his eyes widened in shock. is that why you weren’t replying to him all day? was it because you were with sungchan all along?

wonbin doesn’t understand what got to him. his heart feels heavy and feels like he shouldn’t have seen you two together. he watches as your head falls back as you laugh at sungchan’s dumb joke. he watches how you look so happy to be with sungchan when in fact it could’ve been with him

his chest tightens at the sickly sight. he scoffs before forcing himself to walk away but the image of you and sungchan who seem to be out on a date is imprinted in his mind

without thinking, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and sends you a quick message.

“can we meet later? i'm coming over"

—

your phone vibrates on the table.

sungchan was telling you about how all the accusations of his ex girlfriend in regards to you back then during the trip. to the point he himself was beginning to question the security of their relationship that ultimately ended up with him and her breaking up.

“i always had a thought that if she didn’t accept who you are in my life then i wouldn’t want them in mine. so i’m really sorry about her” sungchan shares as he recalls everything that happened.

“it was kinda my fault too for ignoring you back then. the way you were acting with me probably caused her to think that way so i’m sorry too” you say apologetically, being empathetic for your best friend. he didn’t deserve that although you were a bit smug that you were right all along for not really liking his ex girlfriend. though it did bother you a little that his girlfriend may have seen through your façade

your phone vibrates again. this time sungchan notices and points it out

“you should probably answer that” he says. you pick your phone up to see what was up.

it was a message from wonbin. you furrowed your brows as you read the message. it felt a little cold to be coming from wonbin

“who is it? is it eunseok?” sungchan asked, peering over to look at your screen. you shake your head no and said it was wonbin.

“wonbin? how are you guys? still going strong?” sungchan continues to ask, his eyes wide. still not accepting the thought of you dating one of his closest friends. to him it almost felt fake cause why would you suddenly announce a relationship that he didn’t know about

“uh yeah” you smile fakely, trying to come up with an excuse for his follow up question. “i guess..”

“hmm i’ve always wondered why you never told me that you liked him. or even the fact that you two were dating all along” sungchan suddenly says outloud

it almost scared you out of your wits with how much sungchan managed to see through your lies. he literally hit it right on the dot. talk about bullseye

“sungchan.. i have to tell you something” you take a deep breath, closing your eyes before looking at sungchan who had worry evident in his eyes.

“you can tell me anything”

“i-”

your conversation is cut off short when your phone starts to ring. it was eunseok who was calling.

“hello?” you picked up, seemingly a bit confused on why eunseok was calling you when knows where you were at and that you were with sungchan

“wonbin’s here” eunseok’s stone cold voice coming from the other end. you hear some talking in the background and you hear wonbin telling him to tell you that it’s urgent and that he needed to see you, “do you want me to tell him that you’re out with su–”

“no! that’s exactly what you don’t tell him” you cut him off abruptly. for all you know, wonbin thinks you were out with your family (that of which included eunseok)

“woah. chill, i won’t” eunseok says, “but you really need to come home now. it’s getting late”

you look at sungchan and mouthed it was time to go. he nods and grabs his car keys on the table. you both stand up as you walk out of the cafe, eunseok still on the line

“wonbin looks upset. what did you do?” you hear eunseok ask as you get into the passenger seat. you already wince at the thought that wonbin caught you lying to him. you hear him talk to wonbin in the background and you’re literally praying to the gods that something else made wonbin upset, “whatever. forget i asked. i’ll see you at home” with that eunseok hangs up

you didn’t even realize that you were holding in your breath til you let out a deep exhale. sungchan looks over for a moment before keeping his eyes back at the road

“what’s wrong?” sungchan asks, worried.

“just eunseok wanting me to go home” you say. technically it wasn’t a lie, it is true that he wanted you home.

“oh, i thought something happened. anyway what were you saying earlier before you got cut off?”

you suck in a deep breath. mentally preparing yourself on what you were gonna say to sungchan

“just promise me you won’t be weird right after?” you plead, looking at sungchan who kept his eyes on the road. you watch as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. as if like he would let anything between you would change

“me and wonbin….. aren’t really together” you admit, bracing yourself for his reaction. sungchan suddenly slams on the breaks, causing you to jolt forward. you were thankful you had the seatbelt on or else you would’ve ended up with a concussion

“what the fuck sungchan!” you yelped as the car halts to a stop. it was a good thing you were at an empty street when this shit happened. who knows maybe sungchan could’ve caused a traffic accident

“what do you mean you and wonbin aren’t together?!” sungchan whips his head around to face you. completely caught off guard. what did you mean by that?

“i’m really sorry sungchan but it was all a lie” you admit, looking down at your lap as you let sungchan process your words. “i-i was really hurt that you had a girlfriend at the time and in the heat of the moment i blurted out that wonbin and i were dating but it’s all not true. we were just pretending til the trip ended. i’m so sorry”

sungchan looks at you with wide eyes. what did you just say?

“so all this time.. you and wonbin… weren’t actually together? but just pretending to? what the fuck, y/n?” sungchan was completely at loss of words. so all this time?

you can only wince at his reaction. you expected this to happen. it was inevitable. it was only about time til your little white lie caught up with you somehow and that time is now

“i’m sorry sungchan i really don’t know what got to me at the time”

“why?”

“huh?”

“why did you do it?”

“it’s because i liked you, okay?!” you finally explode, tired of keeping all of this inside. it was eating you inside out knowing that you were just using his friend– your brother’s friend to get back at sungchan.

“what?” sungchan blurts out, did he hear you right?

“yes! i liked you, sungchan! for the longest time! i had a crush on you all this time and when you revealed that you had a girlfriend i was hurt! i wanted to get over you so that’s why i did it. god!” you bury your face into your hands, embarrassed beyond measure. you want nothing in this world but to swallow you whole. it was too late now

the car ride turns silent after that. sungchan stunned by your outburst. he doesn’t know what to say or how to feel, even. but the question in his head remains, why say that now?

“i don’t know what to say…” sungchan starts, trying to come up with something but eventually ends up with nothing.

“i know you don’t feel the same. you’ll always see me as your best friend’s little sister and i get that! but i just had to get this off my chest since it’s eating me alive. now please take me home” you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes. you harshly wipe away your tears as you wish that this car ride would end sooner

maybe you should've kept this one to the grave

sungchan stays quiet after that. not wanting to make things even weird than they already were. he needed a few days to process everything. to think about everything that went down

after what seems like forever you two finally arrive at your house. you and sungchan don’t say anything when he puts the car to park. not wanting to make wonbin wait much longer, you start to unbuckle your seatbelt

“wait!” sungchan calls, his arm extended out to prevent you from leaving just yet. “i just wanted to say that thank you for telling me your feelings” he starts

you internally groan, not wanting this kind of conversation with him. the secret is out so there’s nothing else left to say. all you wanted was a bit of dignity left in you but you know that’s a lie.

“i think you already know where this is going?” sungchan sheepishly smiles. of course you know. you know damn well he doesn’t see you like that and he never will. you accepted that fact a long time ago

“i know sungchan. i know” you smile faintly at the boy. “from the get go i can already tell but i just wanted to come clean and forget all this happened”

sungchan can only smile apologetically as he watches you compose yourself. he now understands why you were so harsh and brash around him during the trip. it was normal for you to react like that especially since he kept having a girlfriend from you for a while and the fact you had to find out unprovoked on a trip with friends, it was pretty normal for you to react that way

“friends?” sungchan prompts, opening his arms.

“you dumbass!” you cried, wiping a stray tear from your cheek, “friends” you invite yourself into his arms.

you think of it as closure for this chapter in your life. you were finally free from the chains of your stupid little crush on your brother’s best friend

your little moment with sungchan gets cut off with eunseok yanking the car door open.

“why the fuck are you guys taking so damn long to get out– oh” eunseok stops rambling when he catches you and sungchan hugging. you pull away from sungchan’s hold when you whip your head towards your brother to see him standing there with a shocked look on his face and wonbin behind him

you made eye contact with wonbin and his expression was something you don’t ever want to see. he looks like he just got betrayed. hurt washed all over his features. you watch him as he purses his lips shut as you scramble out of sungchan’s car

eunseok clears his throat to cut the dead silence. it was unbearable for him as it was to you. you hated how you found yourself in this tight situation.

you were caught red handed by wonbin himself.

“uh, wonbin’s been waiting for quite some time now so..” eunseok notes, looking around for a distraction.

“i’m gonna go home” wonbin says coldly. his jaw clenched, trying to calm himself down. your eyes widened as you look at wonbin, “wait!”

“save it, y/n” wonbin hisses, walking away from your house.

eunseok looks between you, sungchan and wonbin. wondering what the fuck is happening before you ran after wonbin.

sungchan can only sigh as he watches you run after his friend. he looks at eunseok apologetically before leaving

“i’ll tell you everything later but for now let them talk” was all sungchan said before getting into his car and driving away.

eunseok simply blinks and walks back inside the house. mumbling “what the fuck”

—

“wonbin wait!” you call out as you continue to run after him. wonbin scoffs, “go home, y/n”

as you catch up to him, panting for breath, you grab his arm, forcing him to look at you “wonbin it’s not what it looks like!” you cried out

wonbin turns around, his expression hardens,

“wonbin–”

“y/n, it’s exactly what it looks like” wonbin barks, yanking his arm back from your grip.

heart racing, you struggle to explain, “no i can explain–”

“blowing me off multiple times? ignoring my texts and calls for the past week? yeah i know where this is going. now go home” wonbin tries to shoo you off but the more he pushes you away the more his heart aches

frustration bubbles up inside you, “let me explain goddamn it!” you yelled, stopping your tracks to catch your breath. “you got the wrong idea. sungchan and i were just hanging out-”

“you lied to me. you said you were out with your family? don’t think i didn’t see you at that cafe because i definitely did” wonbin seethes, trying to contain his anger. he didn’t want to lash out on you but with the whole situation, it was hard not to.

your eyes widened at the fact all this time you were caught red handed by wonbin himself

“it’s still sungchan, huh” wonbin chuckles wryly, beginning to accept the fact that it’s always gonna be sungchan for you. you look at him confused. what?

you raise a brow, “what do you mean? sungchan was just telling me about how his ex girlfriend-”

wonbin stops in his tracks, slowly turning around to face you. did you just say ex girlfriend? oh right. sungchan and yujin broke up for a while now. so does that mean that whatever you have going on with him is now over? it’s done? just like that? after literally making you forget about sungchan, after all those heart to heart confessions here you go running back to him? it only took you a day to realize that you won’t need him anymore?

“ex girlfriend huh? i forgot he was single again. so i’m guessing you’re gonna go running back to him? i definitely got the right idea witnessing your little moment at his car back there now that his girlfriend is out of the picture. so are you two are finally together? is it a wish come true? huh, y/n?” wonbin presses on, taking a step towards you. he is in disbelief over the whole situation.

it can’t get any worse than this

his head is screaming at him to stop but he can’t. he’s so worked up that he couldn’t even process what he was saying.

with the way wonbin was talking to you right now, you know he was getting under your skin. you feel your eye twitch after hearing his accusations left and right when in reality he had no place in your life to be acting this way and saying such things about you like that. last time you checked, you two weren’t even a real thing!

“it’s like i’m the only one holding on to whatever we have going on, and it’s making me go fucking crazy.” wonbin fumes, his emotions getting the best of him

“we’re not even together! you’re not my real boyfriend so you don’t get to tell me shit! have you forgotten? we were just pretending to be in a relationship!” you finally snapped, feet stomped on the ground

at the same time you let go of these words, wonbin feels like his heart just broke into a million pieces. your words stinging. of course you two aren’t official. of course you two aren’t fucking real. of course. of fucking course. how could he forget? you were just using him to forget sungchan and he can’t believe how stupid he was to agree on such a thing or let alone even suggest that you use him to get over your best friend

there was a beat of silence after that. the realization of what you just said hits you not a moment later, you covered your mouth in shock. you were too engrossed in the moment to realize what you just said.

“wonbin i-”

“right,” wonbin begins. he starts to laugh hysterically that it’s scaring you. “i forgot”

wonbin finally looks at you. with a smile he says, “we’re not actually together. thank you for reminding me”

“wonbin no i didn’t mean it like that-'' you shakily reach out to him, hands trembling as you attempt to grab his hand but wonbin has already turned his back on you, shoulders tensed. right now he just wants to get out of here, away from you

“wonbin!” you call out, running after him again, desperate to make things right. but by the time you catch up with him, you realize that he’s crying.

wonbin is crying.

he is crying because of you. your heart aches at the sight. you definitely fucked up.

wonbin closes his eyes, letting his tears freely fall. he then looks at you, eyes filled with pain, betrayal and defeat. you opened your mouth to say something but wonbin beats you to it

“thank you for finally letting me realize who i really am to you because it's always gonna be him.. i honestly thought we’d become something after all those days and nights i’ve spent wiping your tears. i got to know you deep inside, i let you get to know me deep inside. i let you in only for you to let walk away with everything i had” wonbin pauses for a brief second,

“i let you break my heart, even if it meant i only get to have you when you needed it.”

wonbin suddenly cups your cheeks. his thumbs wiping the stray tears you didn’t even notice that were rolling down your cheeks

he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing but it’s shaky. he then presses his lips against your forehead. it almost felt like he was savoring the remaining moments of what you two could’ve been

“i’m sorry i can’t be sungchan”

you widened your eyes at his statement. why does it feel like he’s saying goodbye? your chest tightens. it hurts. it hurts so much seeing wonbin like this. the weight of his pain was almost too much to bear and to think everything was all your fault

wonbin pulls away and rests his forehead against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes

“but do me one last favor" wonbin tucks some stray hair behind your ear. "please never talk to me again” he croaks. wonbin pulls your head to his chest for what seems to be the last time. wonbin squeezes his eyes shut, savoring this moment. this moment with you in his arms for the the last time

”what?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of both hearts breaking. you try to reach out again but he slowly pulls away. forcing himself to get away from you, from this mess, from everything. all he wanted was a breather

your tears are now fully rolling down your face as you continue to call out for him but to no avail, he does not turn back once. afraid that if he does, he would just come running back to you.

this time, wonbin chose himself. he always put you first ever since your fake relationship started. he had an internal debate with himself with the drawbacks of this entanglement.

wonbin knew what he was getting into but yet..

now all you can do is watch wonbin walk away from you and your life. your actions haunting you as you dwell in the fact that you did this to yourself. you caused this and now all you can do is watch your world crumble before you

between the lines ★ thank you

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

 ˗ˏˋ prev | next  ˎˊ˗

★ notes .ᐟ probably my most favorite chapter... i wrote this a month ago even before btl was a thing it is now heh

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @wonychu @leehanascent @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @dreamyyyz @ether-yeol @yangasm @qwonbani @starwonb1n @ffixtionista @daegale @scrumptiousloser @seunghancore @marksluvs @wonbinfiles @ohmykwonsoonyoung @reenfluffmarshmallow @bunni @artstaeh @yizhoutv @sie17136 @koeuh @07yujin @poollabug @vernonburger @dutifullyannoyingfox @000rpheus @wccycc @sunus-sun @highhjime @chweverni @toosspicy @heartlvrrss @s9nwoo @yoursyuno

[gyutaroz]

young jeff goldblum save me young jeff goldblum

he's so UGHHH

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

(Tattoo Artist!Eddie Munson x Apprentice!Reader)

Summary: . . . After deciding you were meant for more than what life had in store for you, you gave into the siren call of the city─well a city. But when city life finally eats away at your bank account and your main source of income isn't reliable, you take on an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop where your boss is the six-foot something, tattoo covered Eddie Munson who quickly and unwisely becomes intrigued by you. Nothing romantic can come from it, lest you risk it being torn apart by your past, his lover and yourself.

Entire Work Warnings: 18+ (smut will take place in later chapters), swearing, financial problems, mentions of loss, escorts/call girls, age gap (Eddie is 36, reader is 25), financial shaming, slut shaming, implied sexual harassment, bimbo!reader (she may not be book smart but she knows the score) angst, self-sabotage.

a/n: based on my initial post and elements of Breakfast at Tiffany's. next chapters will be significantly juicer, this was just something to get us going. this is dedicated to @munsonology, happy birthday and I hope this year was a good one! and a very gratitude filled thank you to my dear friend, @kitmon, for continuing to be an an amazing beta! hope you guys like it so far ♡ (attempting the keep reading feature, fingers crossed)

word count: 5k

“They don’t bite.” “Hmn?” Came your absent-minded reply, eyes cutting from the harpy, evil in her eyes and blood soaking her talons, to the man flipping through the red binder you’d been carrying around you in the Indianapolis heat. 

  Sweat evaporated off your skin, giving away to goosebumps in the air conditioned shop, a much welcome relief to the borderline unbearable heatwave settling over the city streets, something that can be found in every nook and cranny. You’d been navigating your way throughout the city since before dawn broke, eager to get your fill of it while the streets were quiet and a decent temperature. It had been almost chilly this morning, your thick strapped tank top and daisy dukes—that you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to be caught dead in—leaving most of your skin exposed, with no direct sunlight to warm it. Now that the sun was out, you were on fire out there.

“The artwork.” He glanced at the framed harpy drawing along the wall, the one you’d been staring at, one of many framed depictions of gruesome and mythical looking creatures. “I don’t blame you though, that one isn’t particularly my favorite. Pretty badass, though. Heh.” “Oh,” You shook your head, the oversized shades adorning your face sliding down the bridge of your nose, “No, I’m not afraid of it. I like it. It must have taken forever though.”

  You turned your attention to her again, admiring how realistic her feathers appeared. Painstakingly detailed and whoever was walking around the city with her on their body surely endured a generous amount of pain to get her. 

  And a large hole in their wallet.

  “It took a ton of sessions, for sure. My boy did it a couple years ago.” The man, Argyle, as he’d introduced himself when you’d first walked into the shop, flipped his long black hair over his shoulder before he flipped to the next page of your portfolio. He let out a sound of appreciation as he leaned his weight on his elbow, hand resting over his mouth.

  “This is good! This is really good!”

You lifted your chin to peer at the drawing he was fascinated with. Ah.

It was a drawing of the skeletal Grim Reaper, cloaked in a black robe and scythe clutched in one hand while his boney middle fingers stretched his eye socket holes down in an obvious taunt. A tongue, black and tendril like, lulled out of his mouth.

You thought it was pretty good, too. The idea for it had struck you at a party, you’d been hiding from an annoying suitor and ducked into an office room, doodling to your heart's content once you grew past your boredom.

You grinned, a feeling of giddiness beginning to bubble inside you.

“Listen, the DM’s out right now, running some errands. He should be back soon, can I hold onto this?” Argyle asked, gripping the sides of the binder and raising it as if you didn’t already know he was referring to your portfolio, “I think he’ll be pretty impressed with your stuff.” You fidgeted with your fingers, giddiness giving away to nerves once more. “Really? You think so?” Hope was something you hadn’t felt in a while; you’d been through exactly fourteen tattoo shops throughout the city, most of which you’d been rebuffed from before they so much as flipped open your portfolio, having already decided your particular aesthetic didn’t fit their image. They hadn’t verbalized as much, but you knew. You glanced down at your pink boots, already such a stark contrast to the black beams beneath your feet.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if you hadn’t made a wager with yourself, you could only go home once you’d accomplished your task of getting one of the shop owners to actually look at your work. While Argyle had made it clear he wasn’t the head honcho, he’d be passing it along.

“Yeah, man! This is some pretty legit stuff! I’ve been tatting, myself, for a couple years now, and I’m good–don’t wanna flex or nothing but I’m really good. Only it took a couple of years for me to actually get this good, you know? And I’m not even talking about on skin. You haven’t tattooed anyone before, right?” You thought back to when you had mentioned your art skill to a brief...something, he’d been intoxicated enough on expensive wine and your sangria kisses to encourage you to use the tattoo kit one of your friends had re-gifted you after her interest in the subject waned. You’d never particularly imagined yourself etching into people’s skin before, not even when she’d given you the supplies because she’d seen some of your doodles.

Thanks to her, a suit and tie you no longer spoke to, who made more money than you’ll ever see, was walking around with a secret under his briefs: a pair of shiny cherries on his left ass cheek.

  It was no loss to you. Sure, he made money. Just not nearly enough for you to tolerate how aggressive he’d been with his affections as soon as he was sloshed. You’d given him the tattoo with his drunk pals cheering him on, went out to a very high standard club, then promptly ditched him the moment you were out of his sight. You hadn’t answered the door when he came pounding on it the next morning and the morning after that.

  You’d originally had no intentions of using the tattoo equipment, until that encounter. It had planted a seed, an idea that may get you out of what you had to do to survive. Tattooing hadn’t been a passion, and it still wasn’t quite one but you needed money and you had talent.

“No,” You lied with a shake of your head, “I haven’t.”

“That’ll change soon,” he laughed, closing your binder as he leaned further over the glass counter. Your gaze briefly flickered to the jewelry it housed.

  “You got a number we can reach you at?”

  You’d scrawled the number of your landline down on the back of one of their business cards before Argyle could rethink his decision to pass your work along. 

  “Hopefully, we’ll see you soon!” He called out as you retreated towards the door.

  God, I hope so.

  The thought of a somewhat stable job that could help the pitiful state of your checking and savings account was the only thing powering you through your long walk home. You couldn’t risk a cab, that would mean you’d have no fare money for tonight, and who knows if you’d have to make a speedy exit?

  You’d learned. Eventually.

  Forty-five minutes later, you entered your apartment, sagging back against the door as you dropped your bag and kicked your shoes off, unconcerned as to where exactly they’d landed. 

  Sweat glistened over your skin, and unlike in that last tattoo shop, there was no air conditioning to cool you. You and Sid saved that for special occasions.

  Instead, you opened the large window to the fire escape, obnoxious sounds of the city you called home filling the apartment.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better. Next came the matter of your clothes, stuck in the most uncomfortable of ways to your flesh. Your tank top was peeled off and thrown over the couch, daisy dukes abandoned near the entryway of the small kitchen on your way to the bathroom.

  A quick glance was spared behind you, taking in the state of your shared home. It was a mess and not even remotely surprising. The place was barely furnished with the essentials, all of which were secondhand: a couch, a coffee table with a sheet over it to hide the stains, one shelving unit, a rug and tapestries hung artfully on the walls for deception. They made the place look more put together than it was, but you’d love it even if it were still barren. A roof over your head in the city meant you didn’t have to return to the past you’d clawed your way out of..

  The only thing worth much was the framed photo on the kitchen counter, and that was only in sentimental value. You and Sid, arms around each other’s shoulders as you sat in a booth at a shitty diner you’d tried upon first moving to the city. They’d taken your photo for being the 600th customer and tacked it to the wall.

  You’d stolen it and had no regrets because you got to keep your memory and ended up getting food poisoning.

  With a shrug, you entered the bathroom for a much needed scrub down and some disassociating. Your mess could wait.

  ─

  Eddie was not in a great mood when he walked into the shop.

  His jacket was clutched in a sweaty palm, rings twisting around the flesh of his fingers and his bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead, all the result of the walk from his fucking car to the shop door. 

  “Grumpy?” Argyle asked, amused with the clear annoyance on his face.

  Eddie sneered, standing under the vent for a minute to cool down, “Triple digits. Triple fucking digits out there, man. You could shove a thermometer up the devil’s asshole and it’d be cooler than that.”

  Once he’d solidified, he stalked past the front desk, threw his jacket onto the counter and picked up a stack of mail.

  “Did I miss anything?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the envelopes, mostly junk.

  “A couple of walk-ins. Nothing too major there, handled them myself. Simple stuff, one wanted a goldfish. Not like a detailed one, like how you’d try and draw a goldfish cracker. We did have a few who wanted a couple of advance pieces, got ‘em booked for consultations with Johnny boy and Rob.”

  “Nice,” Eddie chuckled under his breath at the mental image of the goldfish tattoo, most likely an act of affection. Tattooing people who wanted to permanently carry reminders of their children was one of Eddie’s favorites to do, partially because of the sentiment but mostly because the drawings were amusing.

  He’d just finished tossing out the junk mail when he reached for his jacket to hang it up properly and discovered it had been concealing something. 

  “What’s this?” Eddie asked as he lifted the slim red binder. Looked relatively new.

  “Huh?” Argyle glanced up from the sketch he was working on, recognition flashing across his face, “Oh, yeah! We got a prospective new hire, someone dropped off their portfolio.”

  Eddie rolled his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh as his jacket was tossed aside yet again. He had nothing against other tattoo artists, but the last one he’d hired that hadn’t come from his friend group ended up nearly destroying the group. 

  Henry had been charming, good at his job and charismatic. Turns out, he’d also been a master manipulator and had a particularly abhorrent temper. Tensions had been high, heads were butting and fights had occurred—with a permanent reminder in the wall near the front entrance where a large hole had been punched through. Henry had to go.

  Eddie wasn’t looking to repeat the situation.

  “I think we’re good on artists around here–and put a reminder on the calendar for me to patch that damn crater up.”  

  “Well, it’s a good thing the artist isn’t a tattoo artist. Yet. I’d look at that portfolio first before making any decisions, if I were you. I think you’re gonna see the beginnings of something goooooood, and dude, you’ll be killing our fun if you fix it. Do you know how many glory hole jokes we tell?” Eddie ignored the latter half of Argyle’s statement, reluctantly flipping the portfolio open to the first page and annoyance began to associate itself with him once more. 

  A body, in a state of decomposition greeted him. But it wasn’t maggots or rotting flesh involved. Flowers grew out of the crevices, with moss and mushrooms over her skin. A lot of fine line work.

  The next page was home to a bird-like creature with the body of a lion, a Griffin. Done in American Traditional.

  A skinny, demonic looking goat with horns and legs long enough to belong to a horse, clouded eyes and wyvern wings was on the page after that. The Jersey Devil. Someone knew their Cryptids.

  The portfolio contained a vast amount of drawings from horror depictions to more aesthetically pleasing visions; the hydra, skeletons, dragons, goddesses, respectable attempts at the modern Renaissance pieces, and even a couple of Barbie references, ranging in a variety of tattoo styles. 

  Eddie closed the portfolio and drummed his fingertips across the countertop, scowling. 

  That long haired doofus was right. This was beyond good work. But if they weren’t a tattoo artist, there wasn’t much Eddie could do with them. Drawing on paper is a much more different experience than skin. Mistakes can be erased on paper, the sketch done over again. Can’t do the same on flesh. 

  It’s intimidating. 

  They’d have to start off slow, like he had. Trained under a watchful eye, an expert who’d guide them with experienced hands. He was sure Jonathan and Robin would be eager to have an apprentice.

  But before Eddie would even begin to entertain the idea of an apprentice in his shop, he’d have to see exactly what it was he was working with.

  “Leave a number?” He asked without looking at Argyle because he knew he’d see nothing but a smug expression.

  “Yup.”

  “See if you can get him back in the shop tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Because I have a session for the rest of the day, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Argyle’s grin was sheepish as he read off the calendar. “Stacy Peterson called. Car troubles. Unable to make it to appointment with Eddie. Rescheduled. Heh. So…you also missed that.”

  “I’ll strangle you later, just get him in here then.”

  Argyle opened his mouth, then closed it as an expression that said I know something you don’t crossed his strong features. “Righty-O, boss. I’ll give him a call.”

  You’d been lounging in the bathtub, hair up and out of the way, eyeing the grooves of the shower tile. They were a permanent taunt, stained dark no matter how hard you and Sid scrubbed and you hated the sight of them. 

  People with money didn't have to stare at them, able to afford to have them professionally cleaned or the shower wall—the entire bathroom renovated.

  Someday, that would be you. 

  You sunk further into the water, toeing at the faucet when the shrill sound of the landline filled your more than humble home. The thought of simply letting it ring played in your head until you remembered the tattoo shop you’d visited last. 

  Hastily rising from the tub, water was splashed along the floor while you did a terrible job of drying off and ran naked the rest of the way to the living room, almost slipping as you did.

  The receiver was yanked off its post, “Hello?”

  “What’s up, Dudette? Argyle calling, dunno if you remember me from earlier…”

  “Yeah! From the tattoo shop, right?”

  “Right-O! Listen, The Dungeon Master is in and he wants to see if you can get down here to show him what you got. Possible?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be no problem!” You’d have to run most of the way but street traffic around this time wasn’t that bad so you wouldn’t have to fight your way through bodies.

  “Cool, cool, cool. And between you and me, this is pretty much the interview process. Good luck, dudette, and may the force be with your tattie skills. I’ll see you when you get here!”

  As soon as you’d hung up, you ran to your room to get dressed. You didn’t have much of a wardrobe, but it wasn’t high on your list of priorities considering you and Sid practically shared one. Another tank top was selected—to mitigate sweating on your way to your interview—along with a gifted pink thong and matching bra. You’d snagged your Daisy Dukes from the floor on your way out, shimmied them on, grabbed your small bag and keys and headed out.

  The selection of attire was a good one, the heat was still stupidly unbearable and heavy. You’d need to wash off again tonight. You’d managed to make it to the shop in under twenty-five minutes, having ignored all the looks you’d received as you hurried along the streets and the feeling of the air conditioner on your skin was a welcome one when you made your way back into the shop.

  Argyle greeted you with a bright grin from his place behind the counter, throwing up his hands, “You made it! One sec.”

  Then he turned his upper body to call into an area you couldn’t quite see into, “Oh, Eddie boy! Your prospect has arrived.”

  You hadn’t cared to entertain ideas on what your potential boss could look like, all you were concerned about was the position and getting your foot in the door. Even if you had tried to imagine him, nothing could have prepared you for the actual sight of him when he emerged.

  He was big, tall and cloaked in black, despite the heat of the city. He wore what you figured had once been a black t-shirt but was now lacking sleeves and a proper neck hem to be considered a makeshift tank. His pants were shiny leather and also tight, hugging the muscles of his thighs, and he sported a dark pair of pointed boots.

  He wasn’t particularly muscular enough to be the body builder type, but it looked like he could probably pick another grown man up with ease. His skin had a light tan to it, barely anything really, just like everyone else, he obviously couldn’t escape the sun. It was littered with intricate tattoos, weaving up his arms—a few you could tell disappeared under his shirt—and his neck.

  The word freak was permanently etched in black ink along his temple and over his eyebrow. Two silver balls decorated his other eyebrow.

  Leaning up against the back wall like that, arms crossed to make the muscles of his arms bulge slightly and oozing confidence, he looked like the personification of some really good sex.

  But he wasn’t what you were seeking out and you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

  Eddie was caught completely off guard, trying to school his shock and keep his composure.

  When he’d seen that portfolio, he was expecting someone with jagged edges, piercings galore and more than just a couple of tattoos to be behind it and standing in the entryway of his shop.

  Someone who looked like their art.

  You…didn’t. With your little pink cowboy boots, tank top that accentuated your figure and shorts so small, they should’ve been considered a form of underwear, you didn’t look at all similar to what Eddie was expecting. Not even if he closed his eyes.

  You didn’t waste time, quickly introducing yourself as you stepped up to the front desk and Eddie pulled himself from his stupor, closing the distance to shake your palm. Smaller than his (though most were) and slightly sweaty, no doubt due to that god forsaken heat outside.

  Eddie could see bits of your hair sticking to your skin, little beads of sweat prickling over your exposed collarbone and trailing down, down between your─

  “Thank you for taking the time to even look at my portfolio! I really appreciate it.”

  Eddie blinked hard, clearing his throat before smirking to pretend he hadn’t been drawn in by your chest.

  What the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden? 

  He’d had plenty of beautiful clients, he’d tattooed nice asses, tits, pubic regions, thighs, all the beautiful areas. Now all of a sudden he was acting like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. 

  Hell, Eddie had been thoroughly busy with a pair, held them in his hands before he came into the shop.

  Professionalism, he reminded himself.

  “Not a problem, what I see—saw was pretty impressive,” Nice save, Eddie, you dick. He cursed himself, “You adapt well to different styles.”

  “Thanks!” You chirped, excitement filling you at the praise. It was so nice to hear positive feedback about your work instead of being sent out of a shop before they so much as opened your binder. “I like to experiment with different styles, see what it is that people like so much about them and honestly, it’s mostly because I haven’t quite found my art style just yet.”

  Hence your range, you were constantly expanding with your art because you hadn’t found one style you wanted to make yours yet. Or maybe you had and just didn’t know it yet. Whatever.

  Eddie and Argyle exchanged a look before he stepped back and nodded in the direction he came, “Why don’t you follow me? Show me what you can do?”

  You didn’t hesitate, stepping past the front desk.

  There was more artwork lining the short hall he took you down until you arrived at another room, obviously one meant for actual tattooing as there was a tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 

  On one of the counters, was an area already prepped for you. A tattoo gun, some ink, and some obviously fake skin that rested on top of a disposable sheet cloth, along with some gloves.

  “Argyle tells me you haven’t worked on skin before.”

  Sure you haven’t.

  “Not a whole lot of people lining up to get tattooed by someone with no experience,” you shrugged, following him over to the counter he was leaning up against.

  “You’re hanging around the wrong crowd then.” He joked and you let out a small laugh.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  “The first tattoos I ever got were from inexperienced people. This one,” he gestured to a Wyvern on the back of his arm, “I got my junior year of high school from a waitress at a bar I always snuck into.”

  “And this one,” he yanked the tattered collar of his shirt down to expose more ink, but the one he was referring to was a spider, “I got my first senior year from someone I did…business with.”

  First senior year? Eddie was proving to be an interesting character.

  “But enough about me,” Eddie released his shirt, allowing it to hide the artwork depicted on his chest, “let’s get down to business.”

  Before he could even explain what everything was, you dropped your purse onto the counter nearby, pulling a small box of unopened gloves from it.

  “You mind?” You asked, fingers poised to rip it open.

  “Go for it,” He shrugged. Gloves were gloves, so long as they were uncontaminated he didn’t mind.

  You tore into them and Eddie was still somehow surprised to see they were pink. Clearly his black ones weren’t your style.

  “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you pulled the gloves on. Eddie watched you, intrigued as you finished assembling the tattoo gun without his help and opened the ink pack. 

  “Sure,” He mused, eyeing you skeptically. Hadn’t tattooed anyone but you were clearly familiar with it. Interesting.

  “Did your tattoos hurt?”

  Eddie waited until after you’d started the tattoo gun and got into working on the fake flesh. Apparently you already had an idea in mind.

  “A bit of an amateur question, you don’t have one?”

  “Nope.” You confirmed, paying him no mind as you leaned forward, gaze focused solely on your task, “I kind of want one but I’m not in any particular rush, you know?”

  Eddie made a sound of agreement, at a brief loss of words as you arched your back, ass sticking out and he became painfully aware you were wearing a hot pink thong, the tails of it peaking out past the top of your denim shorts. He should’ve offered you a seat but you didn’t seem all that bothered with standing.

  No, that was apparently his foil, because he was incredibly bothered by you standing, especially with your ass out like that; when it made his pants tighten considerably in his crotch region.

  He was getting hard. 

  Eddie was mortified, stiffening (go figure) as he attempted to calm himself, eyes darting away from your ass to stare at one of the cabinets. Of course this had to happen to him on the day he chose to wear a pair of pants that left little to the imagination should the boy downstairs start acting up.

  Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

  “Hurts, depending on the area, which I’m sure you already know. The tattoos on my back and my thighs hurt pretty bad. Forearms were a bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The ones on my wrists and hands were the worst, pain wise, in my opinion. Obviously it didn't stop me, but those tend to be areas with a lot of bones, veins and very little muscle, so it’s expected.”

  You hummed in response and his gaze briefly flittered over to you before his cock pulsed and he tore it away again, grateful your attention wasn’t on him.

  The remainder of the ‘session’ was spent in relative silence with the music playing through the speakers installed throughout the shop, keeping it from being awkward. Eddie had just managed to will his erection away when you finished, setting down the gun before you pulled your gloves off.

  “What do you think?” You asked, still admiring your work and Eddie peered around you to assess it.

  A wyvern, similar to the one on his arm but done in a fine line style.

  He chuckled, amused with your reference and you fought valiantly with yourself not to grin. You were trying to impress him, sticking with a subject he liked enough to make it a part of him permanently, but you hadn’t imitated the style of it to keep from downright copying and to showcase your ability to adapt.

  “That’s pretty good,” And it was, not a whole lot of people could get lines that perfect or seem as confident in their abilities on their first try. Still, Eddie could tell you’d have some ways to go before you were ready to be on your own, “but you can do better.”

  You tried not to frown, “Oh.”

  Eddie smirked and you finally turned to face him, apprehension on your face.

  “Don’t look so down. After some time around here, watching us work, you’ll be ready. The apprenticeship will fly by in no time.”

  “Wait—you mean—you want me?!”

  “I’d be stupid not to.”

  You let out a squeal and threw yourself at him, giving him a quick squeeze before your brain caught up to your body and you pulled away.

  “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited.”

  Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his body away from you and rasped out, “Argyle will have the paperwork for you to fill out.”

  “Got it,” You grabbed your bag and was just about to head out of the room when Eddie called your name, “Huh?”

  “Be back at the same time tomorrow. You’ll be practicing on real skin.” 

  “But I thought you said—” 

  “Me.”

  Something in you bubbled with excitement and nerves.

  You nodded once and then left the room to see Argyle for your paperwork.

  “So?????” Argyle asked once you’d approached him, a sullen look on your face. 

  You couldn’t keep the act up, beaming as you practically bounced, “I’ll be seeing you around more often now!” 

  He whooped, extending an arm out for a high-five which you reciprocated.

  “You are gonna love it here, Dudette. Just wait until you meet everyone! First, we gotta start on your employment.” 

  Your brows furrowed as you watched him go through a filing cabinet.

  “Wait—this is paid?”

  “Yeah! We’re not big on slave labor here.”

  Score for you! You had a feeling you wouldn’t be clocking a ton of hours but every single penny counted, especially considering how hard of a time you had actually building a savings account.

  Argyle had walked you through the paperwork, where to sign, what things meant and since the shop was getting ready to close up you’d simply just bring the completed paperwork back with you tomorrow.

  The door chimed behind you and you turned to see who could be coming in at the last minute, eyes widening at the voluptuous woman before you. Her hair was long and jet black, skin pale (apparently one person in this city was capable of defying the sun) and make-up done so elegantly it reminded you of actresses from the silver screen era. Her dress was simple, black and hugged her curves exceptionally well. You could tell it was worth more than everything in your apartment combined and you’d feel bad about it if you also couldn’t tell she was older than you. 

  You’d have time to get there.

  “Hey, Deidre.”

  “Hello, Argyle.” She gave the both of you a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and walked right past Argyle, down the hall you’d come from.

  He didn’t even look surprised and paid her no real attention.

  “We’ll see you soon?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Argyle let out another cheer as you walked out the door with high spirits. Not even the nasty, hot air could get you down.

  You’d climbed up the stone steps until you reached the sidewalk and glanced behind you at the neon sign depicting the name of the tattoo shop you’d now be working at.

  “Welcome to The Dungeon,” You mumbled to yourself with a smile. 

  You turned back to the sidewalk, staring down at the pathway you’d have to take before you thought better of it, sticking your fingers into your mouth to give a sharp whistle.

  It caught the attention of a cab driver down the street, and you gave him your address when he’d pulled up and you’d hopped in, ready to prepare for tonight's plans. You deserved a little break, after all, you were one step closer to securing the future of your dreams.

  Eddie sagged against the counter once you’d left the room, scowling down at the bulge that had reappeared in his pants when you’d hugged him.

  Why his body was suddenly acting like he was a horny teenager again, he had no idea.

  He wasn’t about to do anything about it, though. Not when you’d be hanging around the shop for the foreseeable future. Eddie didn’t get involved with his employees. He’d worked in a couple of shops where he’d witnessed that occur and it always ended in a mess. Not a good kind.

  He busied himself with cleaning up, tossing away the supplies you’d used and storing your first piece of work. It’d be nice for you to look back at once your apprenticeship was over. When Eddie had nothing else to clean, he sighed and rubbed at his eyelids. 

  Platonic. Professional. God, if he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he’d be in a world of trouble. You’d be trouble.

  “Need a hand?”

  Eddie snapped around, relieved to see it was just Deidre. Explaining why he had a boner to anyone else wasn’t something he was keen on doing. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be telling her exactly why, either.

  Taking her up on her offer, however, was something he would eagerly do.

  “Are you offering yours?”

  She laughed, setting her purse down on the counter where your bag had been just a few minutes ago, and walked right up to Eddie, her body pressed against his and grinding onto him as the older woman slid her arms around his shoulders.

  “Mmm, not just my hand.”

  All Eddie knew next was the taste of her red lipstick. 

[buckysouvenir]

between the lines (chapter 1)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader. warnings: none. word count: 717 words. author’s note: hey guys! starting a new series. i'm so happy i found inspiration again! happy to go into this new story with you. i already have about 7 chapters that are already written, so i think i'll be posting one every day!

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

bucky barnes masterlist⠀ |⠀ series masterlist⠀ |⠀ next chapter

The first time Y/N met Bucky Barnes, she was running late. In her defense, it wasn’t entirely her fault. The printer in the communications office had decided to throw a tantrum, spitting out page after page of half-printed mission briefs. She’d spent fifteen minutes wrestling with it, finally managing to salvage what she needed, but at the cost of being almost ten minutes behind schedule.

Clutching the papers to her chest, Y/N dashed down the hallways of the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, sneakers squeaking against the polished floors. She rounded a corner sharply, narrowly dodging an agent holding a coffee cup, and headed straight for the debriefing room. Director Fury himself had asked for these files, and she wasn’t about to let a malfunctioning printer ruin her streak of reliability.

But in her haste, she didn’t notice the man stepping out of the adjacent corridor until it was too late.

She collided with what felt like a brick wall. The stack of papers flew from her hands, scattering across the floor in a chaotic mess. Stumbling back, Y/N caught herself against the wall and looked up—and up—to meet the startled blue eyes of none other than Bucky Barnes.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she blurted, immediately crouching down to gather the scattered papers. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood there, stiff and uncertain, like someone who wasn’t used to being bumped into. His long hair was tucked behind his ears, and he wore a black hoodie and jeans that somehow made him look even taller and broader. His metal hand twitched at his side, the sunlight streaming through the windows catching on its polished surface.

“I… yeah, I’m fine,” he said finally, his voice low and slightly raspy. Then, as though realizing he should probably help, he crouched down to assist her with the papers. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Y/N said quickly, though her heart was racing. Partly from the collision, and partly because… well, she’d just run into Bucky Barnes. The Bucky Barnes. The man who’d once been the Winter Soldier and was now supposedly trying to rebuild his life. She’d heard whispers around the facility that he was there for rehabilitation, but she hadn’t expected to actually see him, let alone crash into him.

He handed her a few papers, his metal fingers surprisingly gentle as they brushed against hers. She tried not to stare, but it was hard not to when he was right there, all sharp angles and quiet intensity.

“Thanks,” she said, standing up and clutching the papers tightly to her chest. “And sorry again. I was in a hurry, and I… well, clearly, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his lips twitching into a small, almost shy smile. “I’ve had worse.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at that, though she immediately felt bad. “Right. Of course. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” he said again, and this time, his smile was a little more genuine. There was a moment of silence, awkward but not entirely unpleasant, before he added, “You… work here?”

“I do,” she said, nodding. “Communications team. I manage how information flows within S.H.I.E.L.D. and sometimes outside of it.” She gestured to the papers in her arms. “Which I should probably get to Director Fury before he starts wondering if I got lost.”

He nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. “Right. Don’t let me keep you.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then offered him a small smile. “It was nice meeting you, Bucky.”

His expression flickered, as though he wasn’t quite used to hearing his name spoken so casually. But then he nodded, his blue eyes softening just a little. “You too…”

“Y/N,” she supplied.

“You too, Y/N.”

With that, she turned and hurried off down the hallway, her heart still racing for reasons that had nothing to do with being late. As she disappeared around the corner, Bucky stood there for a moment, staring after her. Then, with a quiet shake of his head and a faint smile, he continued on his way, feeling just a little less out of place than he had before.

[lupitalover]

[ruhlare]

[shrimpybbq]

Between the Lines

A HBO Production

Starring: Drew Starkey, OBX Actress!Reader, Pedro Pascal.

Drew Starkey as Alex Grant. A down on his luck cop assigned to go undercover in a gang known for smuggling drugs, girls, and guns. After a drug bust gone wrong, this is his opportunity to reclaim his reputation. Reckless and a tad arrogant, he finds playing his new role as chauffeur/handler to be more difficult than anticipated.

OBX Actress!Reader as Clara Richter. A young woman taken from her mundane college life, forced into prostitution at the hands of a gang. Such a pretty face, she’s now sought out by the worst of the worst for a special night together. As she struggles with her imprisonment, she feels the unwavering gaze of her handler bearing down upon her each day.

Pedro Pascal as José Morales. A high-level gang member who heads the prostitution and sex trafficking ring of the gang. Upon discovering his newest rare gem, he intends to make full use of her. He assigns his newest lackey to watch over her, unaware of the actions he’s put into play.

Critic Reviews

“The steamiest show to hit television in years!”

“Sizzling chemistry brings the story to life.”

“HBO’s iconic blend of crassness, nudity, and sheer passion cements this show as a must watch of 2025!”

“Starkey & Y/N cement their prowess in Hollywood - the teen star image is long gone in this erotic series!”

the first installment: click here

ok everyone, this is the premise for the obx actress!reader drama with drew starkey, my little evil gang drama where everyone is hot

the post for reference

i think the format might be more so short scene snippets from the 'actual' show/scenarios with drew and obx actress!reader playing their characters

[riverofthought]

[bbina]

between the lines ★ it's bad for the both of them

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

 ˗ˏˋ prev | next  ˎˊ˗

★ notes .ᐟ had to include jjk in here somehow . cute chapter im ngl also 🪤 anon i was making this chapter amidst of ur asks and its such a coincidence you were talking about chocolate too 😭 so this chapter is dedicated to u LMFAO also are yall prepared for judgement day tomorrow

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @wonychu @leehanascent @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @dreamyyyz @ether-yeol @yangasm @qwonbani @starwonb1n @ffixtionista @daegale @scrumptiousloser @seunghancore @marksluvs @wonbinfiles @ohmykwonsoonyoung @reenfluffmarshmallow @bunni @artstaeh @yizhoutv @sie17136 @koeuh @07yujin @poollabug @vernonburger @dutifullyannoyingfox @000rpheus @wccycc @sunus-sun @highhjime @chweverni @toosspicy @heartlvrrss @s9nwoo @yoursyuno @stanriize01 @rosesfortaro @lampcults @alwayswook

[fjoundfjamily]

one of my absolute favourite parts of cr is not even like. a funny or important scene. they're literally just making plans for where they're going next. but every time a character joins the conversation, they then say good morning as though they've just come down for breakfast. the fjound fjamily of it all

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

(Tattoo Artist!Eddie Munson x Apprentice!Reader)

Summary: . . . After deciding you were meant for more than what life had in store for you, you gave into the siren call of the city─well a city. But when city life finally eats away at your bank account and your main source of income isn't reliable, you take on an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop where your boss is the six-foot something, tattoo covered Eddie Munson who quickly and unwisely becomes intrigued by you. Nothing romantic can come from it, lest you risk it being torn apart by your past, his lover and yourself.

Entire Work Warnings: 18+ (smut will take place in later chapters), swearing, financial problems, mentions of loss, escorts/call girls, age gap (Eddie is 36, reader is 25), financial shaming, slut shaming, implied sexual harassment, bimbo!reader (she may not be book smart but she knows the score) angst, self-sabotage.

a/n: my fav little hater was upset about my post getting interactions again so they flagged it to be incorrectly labeled, meaning it's hidden from the majority of people so repost time! there is no mature content in this chapter, suck it. based on my initial post and elements of Breakfast at Tiffany's. next chapters will be significantly juicer, this was just something to get us going. this is dedicated to @munsonology, happy birthday and I hope this year was a good one! and a very gratitude filled thank you to my dear friend, @kitmon, for continuing to be an an amazing beta! hope you guys like it so far ♡ (attempting the keep reading feature, fingers crossed)

word count: 5k

“They don’t bite.” “Hmn?” Came your absent-minded reply, eyes cutting from the harpy, evil in her eyes and blood soaking her talons, to the man flipping through the red binder you’d been carrying around you in the Indianapolis heat. 

  Sweat evaporated off your skin, giving away to goosebumps in the air conditioned shop, a much welcome relief to the borderline unbearable heatwave settling over the city streets, something that can be found in every nook and cranny. You’d been navigating your way throughout the city since before dawn broke, eager to get your fill of it while the streets were quiet and a decent temperature. It had been almost chilly this morning, your thick strapped tank top and daisy dukes—that you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to be caught dead in—leaving most of your skin exposed, with no direct sunlight to warm it. Now that the sun was out, you were on fire out there.

“The artwork.” He glanced at the framed harpy drawing along the wall, the one you’d been staring at, one of many framed depictions of gruesome and mythical looking creatures. “I don’t blame you though, that one isn’t particularly my favorite. Pretty badass, though. Heh.” “Oh,” You shook your head, the oversized shades adorning your face sliding down the bridge of your nose, “No, I’m not afraid of it. I like it. It must have taken forever though.”

  You turned your attention to her again, admiring how realistic her feathers appeared. Painstakingly detailed and whoever was walking around the city with her on their body surely endured a generous amount of pain to get her. 

  And a large hole in their wallet.

  “It took a ton of sessions, for sure. My boy did it a couple years ago.” The man, Argyle, as he’d introduced himself when you’d first walked into the shop, flipped his long black hair over his shoulder before he flipped to the next page of your portfolio. He let out a sound of appreciation as he leaned his weight on his elbow, hand resting over his mouth.

  “This is good! This is really good!”

You lifted your chin to peer at the drawing he was fascinated with. Ah.

It was a drawing of the skeletal Grim Reaper, cloaked in a black robe and scythe clutched in one hand while his boney middle fingers stretched his eye socket holes down in an obvious taunt. A tongue, black and tendril like, lulled out of his mouth.

You thought it was pretty good, too. The idea for it had struck you at a party, you’d been hiding from an annoying suitor and ducked into an office room, doodling to your heart's content once you grew past your boredom.

You grinned, a feeling of giddiness beginning to bubble inside you.

“Listen, the DM’s out right now, running some errands. He should be back soon, can I hold onto this?” Argyle asked, gripping the sides of the binder and raising it as if you didn’t already know he was referring to your portfolio, “I think he’ll be pretty impressed with your stuff.” You fidgeted with your fingers, giddiness giving away to nerves once more. “Really? You think so?” Hope was something you hadn’t felt in a while; you’d been through exactly fourteen tattoo shops throughout the city, most of which you’d been rebuffed from before they so much as flipped open your portfolio, having already decided your particular aesthetic didn’t fit their image. They hadn’t verbalized as much, but you knew. You glanced down at your pink boots, already such a stark contrast to the black beams beneath your feet.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if you hadn’t made a wager with yourself, you could only go home once you’d accomplished your task of getting one of the shop owners to actually look at your work. While Argyle had made it clear he wasn’t the head honcho, he’d be passing it along.

“Yeah, man! This is some pretty legit stuff! I’ve been tatting, myself, for a couple years now, and I’m good–don’t wanna flex or nothing but I’m really good. Only it took a couple of years for me to actually get this good, you know? And I’m not even talking about on skin. You haven’t tattooed anyone before, right?” You thought back to when you had mentioned your art skill to a brief...something, he’d been intoxicated enough on expensive wine and your sangria kisses to encourage you to use the tattoo kit one of your friends had re-gifted you after her interest in the subject waned. You’d never particularly imagined yourself etching into people’s skin before, not even when she’d given you the supplies because she’d seen some of your doodles.

Thanks to her, a suit and tie you no longer spoke to, who made more money than you’ll ever see, was walking around with a secret under his briefs: a pair of shiny cherries on his left ass cheek.

  It was no loss to you. Sure, he made money. Just not nearly enough for you to tolerate how aggressive he’d been with his affections as soon as he was sloshed. You’d given him the tattoo with his drunk pals cheering him on, went out to a very high standard club, then promptly ditched him the moment you were out of his sight. You hadn’t answered the door when he came pounding on it the next morning and the morning after that.

  You’d originally had no intentions of using the tattoo equipment, until that encounter. It had planted a seed, an idea that may get you out of what you had to do to survive. Tattooing hadn’t been a passion, and it still wasn’t quite one but you needed money and you had talent.

“No,” You lied with a shake of your head, “I haven’t.”

“That’ll change soon,” he laughed, closing your binder as he leaned further over the glass counter. Your gaze briefly flickered to the jewelry it housed.

  “You got a number we can reach you at?”

  You’d scrawled the number of your landline down on the back of one of their business cards before Argyle could rethink his decision to pass your work along. 

  “Hopefully, we’ll see you soon!” He called out as you retreated towards the door.

  God, I hope so.

  The thought of a somewhat stable job that could help the pitiful state of your checking and savings account was the only thing powering you through your long walk home. You couldn’t risk a cab, that would mean you’d have no fare money for tonight, and who knows if you’d have to make a speedy exit?

  You’d learned. Eventually.

  Forty-five minutes later, you entered your apartment, sagging back against the door as you dropped your back and kicked your shoes off, unconcerned as to where exactly they’d landed. 

  Sweat glistened over your skin, and unlike in that last tattoo shop, there was no cool air conditioning to cool you. You and Sid saved that for special occasions.

  Instead, you opened the large window to the fire escape, obnoxious sounds of the city you called home filling the apartment.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better. Next came the matter of your clothes, stuck in the most uncomfortable of ways to your flesh. Your tank top was peeled off and thrown over the couch, daisy dukes abandoned near the entryway of the small kitchen on your way to the bathroom.

  A quick glance was spared behind you, taking in the state of your shared home. It was a mess and not even remotely surprising. The place was barely furnished with the essentials, all of which were secondhand: a couch, a coffee table with a sheet over it to hide the stains, one shelving unit, a rug and tapestries hung artfully on the walls for deception. They made the place look more put together than it was, but you’d love it even if it were still barren. A roof over your head in the city meant you didn’t have to return to the past you’d clawed your way out of..

  The only thing worth much was the framed photo on the kitchen counter, and that was only in sentimental value. You and Sid, arms around each other’s shoulders as you sat in a booth at a shitty diner you’d tried upon first moving to the city. They’d taken your photo for being the 600th customer and tacked it to the wall.

  You’d stolen it and had no regrets because you got to keep your memory and ended up getting food poisoning.

  With a shrug, you entered the bathroom for a much needed scrub down and some disassociating. Your mess could wait.

  ─

  Eddie was not in a great mood when he walked into the shop.

  His jacket was clutched in a sweaty palm, rings twisting around the flesh of his fingers and his bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead, all the result of the walk from his fucking car to the shop door. 

  “Grumpy?” Argyle asked, amused with the clear annoyance on his face.

  Eddie sneered, standing under the vent for a minute to cool down, “Triple digits. Triple fucking digits out there, man. You could shove a thermometer up the devil’s asshole and it’d be cooler than that.”

  Once he’d solidified, he stalked past the front desk, threw his jacket onto the counter and picked up a stack of mail.

  “Did I miss anything?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the envelopes, mostly junk.

  “A couple of walk-ins. Nothing too major there, handled them myself. Simple stuff, one wanted a goldfish. Not like a detailed one, like how you’d try and draw a goldfish cracker. We did have a few who wanted a couple of advance pieces, got ‘em booked for consultations with Johnny boy and Rob.”

  “Nice,” Eddie chuckled under his breath at the mental image of the goldfish tattoo, most likely an act of affection. Tattooing people who wanted to permanently carry reminders of their children was one of Eddie’s favorites to do, partially because of the sentiment but mostly because the drawings were amusing.

  He’d just finished tossing out the junk mail when he reached for his jacket to hang it up properly and discovered it had been concealing something. 

  “What’s this?” Eddie asked as he lifted the slim red binder. Looked relatively new.

  “Huh?” Argyle glanced up from the sketch he was working on, recognition flashing across his face, “Oh, yeah! We got a prospective new hire, someone dropped off their portfolio.”

  Eddie rolled his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh as his jacket was tossed aside yet again.He had nothing against other tattoo artists, but the last one he’d hired that hadn’t come from his friend group ended up nearly destroying the group. 

  Henry had been charming, good at his job and charismatic. Turns out, he’d also been a master manipulator and had a particularly abhorrent temper. Tensions had been high, heads were butting and fights had occurred–with a permanent reminder in the wall near the front entrance where a large hole had been punched through the wall. Henry had to go.

  Eddie wasn’t looking to repeat the situation.

  “I think we’re good on artists around here–and put a reminder on the calendar for me to patch that damn crater up.”  

  “Well, it’s a good thing the artist isn’t a tattoo artist. Yet. I’d look at that portfolio first before making any decisions, if I were you. I think you’re gonna see the beginnings of something goooooood, and dude, you’ll be killing our fun if you fix it. Do you know how many glory hole jokes we tell?” Eddie ignored the latter half of Argyle’s statement, reluctantly flipping the portfolio open to the first page and annoyance began to associate itself with him once more. 

  A body, in a state of decomposition greeted him. But it wasn’t maggots or rotting flesh involved. Flowers grew out of the crevices, with moss and mushrooms over her skin. A lot of fine line work.

  The next page was home to a bird-like creature with the body of a lion, a Griffin. Done in American Traditional.

  A skinny, demonic looking goat with horns and legs long enough to belong to a horse, clouded eyes and wyvern wings was on the page after that. The Jersey Devil. Someone knew their Cryptids.

  The portfolio contained a vast amount of drawings from horror depictions to more aesthetically pleasing visions; the hydra, skeletons, dragons, goddesses, respectable attempts at the modern Renaissance pieces, and even a couple of Barbie references, ranging in a variety of tattoo styles. 

  Eddie closed the portfolio and drummed his fingertips across the countertop, scowling. 

  That long haired doofus was right. This was beyond good work. But if they weren’t a tattoo artist, there wasn’t much Eddie could do with them. Drawing on paper is a much more different experience than skin. Mistakes can be erased on paper, the sketch done over again. Can’t do the same on flesh. 

  It’s intimidating. 

  They’d have to start off slow, like he had. Trained under a watchful eye, an expert who’d guide them with experienced hands. He was sure Jonathan and Robin would be eager to have an apprentice.

  But before Eddie would even begin to entertain the idea of an apprentice in his shop, he’d have to see exactly what it was he was working with.

  “Leave a number?” He asked without looking at Argyle because he knew he’d see nothing but a smug expression.

  “Yup.”

  “See if you can get him back in the shop tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Because I have a session for the rest of the day, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Argyle’s grin was sheepish as he read off the calendar. “Stacy Peterson called. Car troubles. Unable to make it to appointment with Eddie. Rescheduled. Heh. So…you also missed that.”

  “I’ll strangle you later, just get him in here then.”

  Argyle opened his mouth, then closed it as an expression that said I know something you don’t crossed his strong features. “Righty-O, boss. I’ll give him a call.”

  You’d been lounging in the bathtub, hair up and out of the way, eyeing the grooves of the shower tile. They were a permanent taunt, stained dark no matter how hard you and Sid scrubbed and you hated the sight of them. 

  People with money didn't have to stare at them, able to afford to have them professionally cleaned or the shower wall—the entire bathroom renovated.

  Someday, that would be you. 

  You sunk further into the water, toeing at the faucet when the shrill sound of the landline filled your more than humble home. The thought of simply letting it ring played in your head until you remembered the tattoo shop you’d visited last. 

  Hastily rising from the tub, water was splashed along the floor while you did a terrible job of drying off and ran naked the rest of the way to the living room, almost slipping as you did.

  The receiver was yanked off its post, “Hello?”

  “What’s up, Dudette? Argyle calling, dunno if you remember me from earlier…”

  “Yeah! From the tattoo shop, right?”

  “Right-O! Listen, The Dungeon Master is in and he wants to see if you can get down here to show him what you got. Possible?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be no problem!” You’d have to run most of the way but street traffic around this time wasn’t that bad so you wouldn’t have to fight your way through bodies.

  “Cool, cool, cool. And between you and me, this is pretty much the interview process. Good luck, dudette, and may the force be with your tattie skills. I’ll see you when you get here!”

  As soon as you’d hung up, you ran to your room to get dressed. You didn’t have much of a wardrobe, but it wasn’t high on your list of priorities considering you and Sid practically shared one. Another tank top was selected—to mitigate sweating on your way to your interview—along with a gifted pink thong and matching bra. You’d snagged your Daisy Dukes from the floor on your way out, shimmied them on, grabbed your small bag and keys and headed out.

  The selection of attire was a good one, the heat was still stupidly unbearable and heavy. You’d need to wash off again tonight. You’d managed to make it to the shop in under twenty-five minutes, having ignored all the looks you’d received as you hurried along the streets and the feeling of the air conditioner on your skin was a welcome one when you made your way back into the shop.

  Argyle greeted you with a bright grin from his place behind the counter, throwing up his hands, “You made it! One sec.”

  Then he turned his upper body to call into an area you couldn’t quite see into, “Oh, Eddie boy! Your prospect has arrived.”

  You hadn’t cared to entertain ideas on what your potential boss could look like, all you were concerned about was the position and getting your foot in the door. Even if you had tried to imagine him, nothing could have prepared you for the actual sight of him when he emerged.

  He was big, tall and cloaked in black, despite the heat of the city. He wore what you figured had once been a black t-shirt but was now lacking sleeves and a proper neck hem to be considered a makeshift tank. His pants were shiny leather and also tight, hugging the muscles of his thighs, and he sported a dark pair of pointed boots.

  He wasn’t particularly muscular enough to be the body builder type, but it looked like he could probably pick another grown man up with ease. His skin had a light tan to it, barely anything really, just like everyone else, he obviously couldn’t escape the sun. It was littered with intricate tattoos, weaving up his arms—a few you could tell disappeared under his shirt—and his neck.

  The word freak was permanently etched in black ink along his temple and over his eyebrow. Two silver balls decorated his other eyebrow.

  Leaning up against the back wall like that, arms crossed to make the muscles of his arms bulge slightly and oozing confidence, he looked like the personification of some really good sex.

  But he wasn’t what you were seeking out and you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

  Eddie was caught completely off guard, trying to school his shock and keep his composure.

  When he’d seen that portfolio, he was expecting someone with jagged edges, piercings galore and more than just a couple of tattoos to be behind it and standing in the entryway of his shop.

  Someone who looked like their art.

  You…didn’t. With your little pink cowboy boots, tank top that accentuated your figure and shorts so small, they should’ve been considered a form of underwear, you didn’t look at all similar to what Eddie was expecting. Not even if he closed his eyes.

  You didn’t waste time, quickly introducing yourself as you stepped up to the front desk and Eddie pulled himself from his stupor, closing the distance to shake your palm. Smaller than his (though most were) and slightly sweaty, no doubt due to that god forsaken heat outside.

  Eddie could see bits of your hair sticking to your skin, little beads of sweat prickling over your exposed collarbone and trailing down, down between your─

  “Thank you for taking the time to even look at my portfolio! I really appreciate it.”

  Eddie blinked hard, clearing his throat before smirking to pretend he hadn’t been drawn in by your chest.

  What the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden? 

  He’d had plenty of beautiful clients, he’d tattooed nice asses, tits, pubic regions, thighs, all the beautiful areas. Now all of a sudden he was acting like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. 

  Hell, Eddie had been thoroughly busy with a pair, held them in his hands before he came into the shop.

  Professionalism, he reminded himself.

  “Not a problem, what I see—saw was pretty impressive,” Nice save, Eddie, you dick. He cursed himself, “You adapt well to different styles.”

  “Thanks!” You chirped, excitement filling you at the praise. It was so nice to hear positive feedback about your work instead of being sent out of a shop before they so much as opened your binder. “I like to experiment with different styles, see what it is that people like so much about them and honestly, it’s mostly because I haven’t quite found my art style just yet.”

  Hence your range, you were constantly expanding with your art because you hadn’t found one style you wanted to make yours yet. Or maybe you had and just didn’t know it yet. Whatever.

  Eddie and Argyle exchanged a look before he stepped back and nodded in the direction he came, “Why don’t you follow me? Show me what you can do?”

  You didn’t hesitate, stepping past the front desk.

  There was more artwork lining the short hall he took you down until you arrived at another room, obviously one meant for actual tattooing as there was a tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 

  On one of the counters, was an area already prepped for you. A tattoo gun, some ink, and some obviously fake skin that rested on top of a disposable sheet cloth, along with some gloves.

  “Argyle tells me you haven’t worked on skin before.”

  Sure you haven’t.

  “Not a whole lot of people lining up to get tattooed by someone with no experience,” you shrugged, following him over to the counter he was leaning up against.

  “You’re hanging around the wrong crowd then.” He joked and you let out a small laugh.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  “The first tattoos I ever got were from inexperienced people. This one,” he gestured to a Wyvern on the back of his arm, “I got my junior year of high school from a waitress at a bar I always snuck into.”

  “And this one,” he yanked the tattered collar of his shirt down to expose more ink, but the one he was referring to was a spider, “I got my first senior year from someone I did…business with.”

  First senior year? Eddie was proving to be an interesting character.

  “But enough about me,” Eddie released his shirt, allowing it to hide the artwork depicted on his chest, “let’s get down to business.”

  Before he could even explain what everything was, you dropped your purse onto the counter nearby, pulling a small box of unopened gloves from it.

  “You mind?” You asked, fingers poised to rip it open.

  “Go for it,” He shrugged. Gloves were gloves, so long as they were uncontaminated he didn’t mind.

  You tore into them and Eddie was still somehow surprised to see they were pink. Clearly his black ones weren’t your style.

  “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you pulled the gloves on. Eddie watched you, intrigued as you finished assembling the tattoo gun without his help and opened the ink pack. 

  “Sure,” He mused, eyeing you skeptically. Hadn’t tattooed anyone but you were clearly familiar with it. Interesting.

  “Did your tattoos hurt?”

  Eddie waited until after you’d started the tattoo gun and got into working on the fake flesh. Apparently you already had an idea in mind.

  “A bit of an amateur question, you don’t have one?”

  “Nope.” You confirmed, paying him no mind as you leaned forward, gaze focused solely on your task, “I kind of want one but I’m not in any particular rush, you know?”

  Eddie made a sound of agreement, at a brief loss of words as you arched your back, ass sticking out and he became painfully aware you were wearing a hot pink thong, the tails of it peaking out past the top of your denim shorts. He should’ve offered you a seat but you didn’t seem all that bothered with standing.

  No, that was apparently his foil, because he was incredibly bothered by you standing, especially with your ass out like that; when it made his pants tighten considerably in his crotch region.

  He was getting hard. 

  Eddie was mortified, stiffening (go figure) as he attempted to calm himself, eyes darting away from your ass to stare at one of the cabinets. Of course this had to happen to him on the day he chose to wear a pair of pants that left little to the imagination should the boy downstairs start acting up.

  Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

  “Hurts, depending on the area, which I’m sure you already know. The tattoos on my back and my thighs hurt pretty bad. Forearms were a bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The ones on my wrists and hands were the worst, pain wise, in my opinion. Obviously it didn't stop me, but those tend to be areas with a lot of bones, veins and very little muscle, so it’s expected.”

  You hummed in response and his gaze briefly flittered over to you before his cock pulsed and he tore it away again, grateful your attention wasn’t on him.

  The remainder of the ‘session’ was spent in relative silence with the music playing through the speakers installed throughout the shop, keeping it from being awkward. Eddie had just managed to will his erection away when you finished, setting down the gun before you pulled your gloves off.

  “What do you think?” You asked, still admiring your work and Eddie peered around you to assess it.

  A wyvern, similar to the one on his arm but done in a fine line style.

  He chuckled, amused with your reference and you fought valiantly with yourself not to grin. You were trying to impress him, sticking with a subject he liked enough to make it a part of him permanently, but you hadn’t imitated the style of it to keep from downright copying and to showcase your ability to adapt.

  “That’s pretty good,” And it was, not a whole lot of people could get lines that perfect or seem as confident in their abilities on their first try. Still, Eddie could tell you’d have some ways to go before you were ready to be on your own, “but you can do better.”

  You tried not to frown, “Oh.”

  Eddie smirked and you finally turned to face him, apprehension on your face.

  “Don’t look so down. After some time around here, watching us work, you’ll be ready. The apprenticeship will fly by in no time.”

  “Wait—you mean—you want me?!”

  “I’d be stupid not to.”

  You let out a squeal and threw yourself at him, giving him a quick squeeze before your brain caught up to your body and you pulled away.

  “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited.”

  Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his body away from you and rasped out, “Argyle will have the paperwork for you to fill out.”

  “Got it,” You grabbed your bag and was just about to head out of the room when Eddie called your name, “Huh?”

  “Be back at the same time tomorrow. You’ll be practicing on real skin.” 

  “But I thought you said—” 

  “Me.”

  Something in you bubbled with excitement and nerves.

  You nodded once and then left the room to see Argyle for your paperwork.

  “So?????” Argyle asked once you’d approached him, a sullen look on your face. 

  You couldn’t keep the act up, beaming as you practically bounced, “I’ll be seeing you around more often now!” 

  He whooped, extending an arm out for a high-five which you reciprocated.

  “You are gonna love it here, Dudette. Just wait until you meet everyone! First, we gotta start on your employment.” 

  Your brows furrowed as you watched him go through a filing cabinet.

  “Wait—this is paid?”

  “Yeah! We’re not big on slave labor here.”

  Score for you! You had a feeling you wouldn’t be clocking a ton of hours but every single penny counted, especially considering how hard of a time you had actually building a savings account.

  Argyle had walked you through the paperwork, where to sign, what things meant and since the shop was getting ready to close up you’d simply just bring the completed paperwork back with you tomorrow.

  The door chimed behind you and you turned to see who could be coming in at the last minute, eyes widening at the voluptuous woman before you. Her hair was long and jet black, skin pale (apparently one person in this city was capable of defying the sun) and make-up done so elegantly it reminded you of actresses from the silver screen era. Her dress was simple, black and hugged her curves exceptionally well. You could tell it was worth more than everything in your apartment combined and you’d feel bad about it if you also couldn’t tell she was older than you. 

  You’d have time to get there.

  “Hey, Deidre.”

  “Hello, Argyle.” She gave the both of you a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and walked right past Argyle, down the hall you’d come from.

  He didn’t even look surprised and paid her no real attention.

  “We’ll see you soon?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Argyle let out another cheer as you walked out the door with high spirits. Not even the nasty, hot air could get you down.

  You’d climbed up the stone steps until you reached the sidewalk and glanced behind you at the neon sign depicting the name of the tattoo shop you’d now be working at.

  “Welcome to The Dungeon,” You mumbled to yourself with a smile. 

  You turned back to the sidewalk, staring down at the pathway you’d have to take before you thought better of it, sticking your fingers into your mouth to give a sharp whistle.

  It caught the attention of a cab driver down the street, and you gave him your address when he’d pulled up and you’d hopped in, ready to prepare for tonight's plans. You deserved a little break, after all, you were one step closer to securing the future of your dreams.

  Eddie sagged against the counter once you’d left the room, scowling down at the bulge that had reappeared in his pants when you’d hugged him.

  Why his body was suddenly acting like he was a horny teenager again, he had no idea.

  He wasn’t about to do anything about it, though. Not when you’d be hanging around the shop for the foreseeable future. Eddie didn’t get involved with his employees. He’d worked in a couple of shops where he’d witnessed that occur and it always ended in a mess. Not a good kind.

  He busied himself with cleaning up, tossing away the supplies you’d used and storing your first piece of work. It’d be nice for you to look back at once your apprenticeship was over. When Eddie had nothing else to clean, he sighed and rubbed at his eyelids. 

  Platonic. Professional. God, if he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he’d be in a world of trouble. You’d be trouble.

  “Need a hand?”

  Eddie snapped around, relieved to see it was just Deidre. Explaining why he had a boner to anyone else wasn’t something he was keen on doing. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be telling her exactly why, either.

  Taking her up on her offer, however, was something he would eagerly do.

  “Are you offering yours?”

  She laughed, setting her purse down on the counter where your bag had been just a few minutes ago, and walked right up to Eddie, her body pressed against his and grinding onto him as the older woman slid her arms around his shoulders.

  “Mmm, not just my hand.”

  All Eddie knew next was the taste of her red lipstick. 

[buckysouvenir]

between the lines (chapter 3)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader. warnings: none. word count: 933 words. author’s note: hey guys! officially started the tags so if anyone else wants to get tagged so they can be notified when there’s a new chapter, just ask me! also the chapter are almost 1k words and i keep feeling like they are so short 😔 i love long chapters so tell me if you like the way it’s going or want longer chapters!

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

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It was another quiet evening at S.H.I.E.L.D., and Y/N was ready to kick back and relax. Her friends were already preparing for Movie Night in the lounge, something they did every week to unwind from the chaos of work. They’d pick a cheesy action flick or an old classic, and for a couple of hours, the world outside didn’t matter.

She grabbed a bag of snacks from the desk in her room, checked the time, and headed toward the lounge, trying not to be too distracted. But it was hard not to think about Bucky. It wasn’t intentional, it just happened. Every time she crossed paths with him, something in her chest fluttered. And it wasn’t just the awkwardness of their accidental collisions that left her rattled. No, it was the way his smile lingered longer than she expected, the way his eyes didn’t look away so quickly. It was the quiet moments between them that made her feel like there was more than just a casual acquaintance.

But tonight, she had to focus on movie night. It would be easy to forget about Bucky in a room full of her friends. Or at least, that was the plan.

She rounded a corner, lost in her thoughts about how her friends would make fun of her movie choice. But as always, life had other plans.

Y/N looked up to find Bucky Barnes standing right in front of her. 

“You sure you’re not following me?” she teased.

Bucky smirked, clearly amused. “You caught me!”

She playfully swatted him with the bag of snacks. He raised his hands in mock defense, laughing.

“So, what’s the deal? Out for a stroll, or are you just trying to bump into me again on purpose?” she asked with a teasing grin, her gaze lingering on him a second longer than she intended.

Bucky looked at her for a moment, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe I am trying to bump into you. What’s it to you?” he countered, his voice soft but laced with something playful.

Y/N felt a twinge of heat rise in her cheeks, but she kept her composure. “Well, if that’s the case, I should warn you—I’m heading to movie night with my friends. You know, the loud bunch who can’t sit still for five minutes.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Movie night, huh?”

Y/N grinned. “It’s just a way to unwind after a long week. We pick something mindless, order too much pizza, and complain about bad plot twists.”

Bucky chuckled, his smile growing. “Sounds like a good time.”

Without even thinking, Y/N found herself saying, “You should join us. We’re in the lounge. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” She instantly regretted the invitation. It was too much, too soon, wasn’t it? He wasn’t part of the team, not really.

But Bucky didn’t look put off in the slightest. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice a little quieter. “You sure? You might regret it. I’m terrible at keeping up with the movie talk.”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to keep her cool. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky said, nodding, clearly amused. “I’ll come. Can’t say no to an invitation like that.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he agreed. It wasn’t like he had to say yes. He could have politely declined, but he didn’t. There was something about the way he’d responded that made her feel like maybe he was just as interested in spending time with her as she was with him.

As they walked toward the lounge together, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Bucky. There was something about the way he carried himself—confident, yet guarded. He was still adjusting to this new life, but there was a certain ease to him now. It wasn’t the same Bucky she’d seen when he first arrived months ago, tense and unsure. He was becoming a part of the team, piece by piece.

They entered the lounge, where her friends were already lounging around. Daisy, Leo, Jemma, Grant, and Antoine waved them over.

“Who’s this?” Daisy asked with a mischievous smile, clearly already in a teasing mood.

“This is Bucky,” Y/N said, giving Bucky a playful nudge as she introduced him.

Bucky grinned. “Hey.”

“You’re a bit weird. You’ll fit right in,” Leo said, handing him a bowl of popcorn as if it were a regular Friday night for him. 

Jemma and Antoine exchanged a knowing look as they started the movie, and soon, Bucky was settling in beside Y/N on the couch.

For the next couple of hours, they slipped into the rhythm of the group—sharing laughs over cheesy lines, throwing out ridiculous theories about the plot, and shoving popcorn into their mouths. Y/N noticed how comfortable Bucky seemed to get, more relaxed as the movie progressed. Every now and then, he’d throw out a sarcastic remark or laugh at something someone said, and Y/N found herself smiling at how effortlessly he was blending in.

As the movie wrapped up and everyone started to pick up their stuff, Y/N turned to him, her voice teasing again. “So, you survived movie night. What do you think?”

Bucky leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his head. “It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done,” he said with a wink.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess you’ll be coming again next week, huh?”

“You know it,” Bucky replied, his grin wide and genuine.

#tags: @cjand10