#i applied to six jobs in the past two days

[sincerelyyellingback]

3. Youre allergic to getting a job

Tbh

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[hellfirecvnt]

First Trip

Lee Russell x Fem!Reader pt. 1

Summary: You're the new secretary at NJH. You've caught Lee's eye, but disaster strikes before anything can be done about it.

Read part two here. // Part three here. // Part four here. // Part five here.

The bright morning sun rays crack through the window into your small house in the new town you've just moved to. It was your very first night in your new home and today, you start your new job. Your goal was to be employed by a school and you achieved that goal, even if it wasn't the position you'd hoped for. You applied as a teacher for a plethora of subjects, but the only open positions they had were in the office.

You pull into the parking lot of your new home school, North Jackson High School. You exhale the nerves out of your body and check yourself one more time in the mirror before stepping out of the car and making your stroll inside. As you get closer, you notice a group of students surrounding something in front of the school. You hear a man demanding that they disperse, but you can't see him past the crowd.

"You. Who are you?" A round man with pushed-back hair points to you the second you step through the door.

"I'm the new Secretary. You must be Mr. Russell," you say, smiling and extending your hand to him.

"Strike one. Fuck no, I'm not Lee Russell." The man speaks sharply.

"Oh, I- I'm sorry. You're Mr. Neal Gamby." Once you correct his name, he meets your handshake. "Did you say 'Strike one?'"

"Keep up with me, Mrs. Y/L/N. I don't repeat myself. Percival left a pile of fucking horse shit in the front drop-off lane." The strict man guides you into the office, ignoring your question entirely.

"Um, it's Miss, actually. I'm not married." You quicken your walk behind Gamby, already reading him for the pretentious leader he is. At least now you know what the hype was outside.

"Me neither. My ex-wife's a bitch. This is your desk." He quickly points to the desk at the front of the office where an empty chair sits next to a discarded name plaque that reads "Janice Smith."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to-" When you look up, he's already walking away, continuing a tour you thought would end right here.

"This is my office," his voice is faint as he disappears behind a corner. You drop your things off at the desk and speedily catch him down the hall. "This is Mr. Russell's office." He intrusively swings the door open to an empty office. Leaving you without a face to the name Lee Russell.

"Thank you, Mr. Gamby. I-" he cuts you off.

"Now the last secretary was shit. She was terrible. She was so bad," he starts, but a passing teacher cuts in.

"She started a six-figure business and quit on you, Gamby."

"That's not true. Regardless, I expect better from you Ms. Y/L/N. Don't fuck me over." He disappears into his office and you begin to settle into your desk. You remove the remnants of Ms. Smith and replace them with photos of your pets. You're a well-organized person and a quick learner. You make it a personal goal to give that severe asshat nothing to complain about. Anything to make the job less boring.

Lunchtime rolls around and you find yourself a little lost and even overwhelmed as you enter the booming volume of the cafeteria. You glance around the room, noticing the faculty table seems a little full. It's only your first day, and you haven't had time to introduce yourself to anyone with Mr. Gamby making odd, redundant requests on a two-minute basis.

You step through the line and purchase an apple before making your way back to your desk in the front office. It'd be nicer to sit somewhere quieter anyway. As you cross the lunch room, you're oblivious to the pair of deep brown eyes you've caught across the room. Lee spots your lanyard and immediately turns to face Neal.

"Who the fuck is that, Gamby?" His voice is a low whisper. Mr. Gamby looks over and watches you as you exit through the double doors.

"That's the new office secretary, Ms. Y/L/N," Gamby answers dryly and returns his attention to his sandwich.

"You didn't tell me you were hiring anybody yet," his voice kind of fades off as he's lost in thought.

"Yeah well, she applied to be a teacher, but we're about overrun by those fuckers," Neal says, met by sneers from the teachers sitting within earshot.

"So you've got her doing desk bitch-work?"

"The fuck are you acting so offended for?" Neal's resting face is one with arched brows, but one arches even higher now as he questions his friend.

"Forget about it, Gamby. She married? Did you see a ring?" Lee glances at the door again, wondering if you plan to come back.

"No, she said she isn't married. And why are you asking? Has your divorce even been finalized yet?"

"Yes, idiot. It's been finalized for a month if you ever fuckin' listen to me." Lee reaches over and disrupts something on Neal's lunch tray. Neal swats his hands away.

"Knock it off! Why are you even focused on ladies and women when we're supposed to be concocting a plan against Dr. Brown?"

"Would you lower your fucking voice, Gamby? Jesus!" Mr. Russell hisses as he follows the other vice principal out of the cafeteria. As the two men round the corner, they come face to face with their higher up. Principal Brown.

"Gamby, there you are. I need you to head up to the office and show Ms. Y/L/N how to log into her staff portal." The woman is dominant and sure in her words. Mr. Gamby sighs before nodding complacently and heading up front. Lee nods to Dr. Brown and quickly follows behind his coworker.

"So what'd you have in mind?" Lee whispers as they walk, coming up quickly on the desk you reside at.

"Now who needs to lower their voice? It's Y/L/N's first day on the job and you want her to hear us plotting against the boss?" Gamby scolds him, right in front of you. You stare at both of them with wide eyes, silent.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I'm Lee Russell. It's wonderful to meet you, darlin'." Lee reaches a charismatic hand across the desk and you happily shake it.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Russell." You smile warmly, hoping to make a good first impression. Suddenly, the phone rings and you're quick to answer, allowing Neal and Lee to slip back into their bickering.

"Well, now she definitely knows something's up, dick head. Don't piss her off before we get Belinda fired," Lee whispers harshly.

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Gamby?" You gain their attention. "Your daughter's shoes seemed to have broken or something during gym class. She needs you to bring her a new pair."

"God damn it, Janelle." Gamby slams his fist on your desk before bolting out the door. You watch him leave, your eyes wide with shock.

"Yeah, he's on his way I think. Thank you, goodbye." You hang up the phone and return your attention to Lee. "Could you please help me log into this faculty portal thing?"

"Yeah, sure, doll. Let's see what we can do." He joins you on the other side of your desk and takes a knee next to your computer chair. You sit and allow him to walk you through the steps. He's so close and the entire time he's next to you, his pulse races. You finish setting up your account and thank him for his help.

"It's no problem at all, Ms. Y/L/N," he smiles, basking in the interaction with you. "You new to town?"

"Yeah, I am. I just spent my first night in my new house last night," you chuckle nervously. Still accepting the new life you're making for yourself.

"First night in? Why, you need to be shown around! You probably don't even know where to find the good bars." He gushes, charismatically.

"That'd be pretty nice if you're offering, Mr. Russell," you smile. He wants so badly to solidify those plans, but it's risky business being your higher-up and saying these things out in the open. Especially with how many people hate him and would gladly report him.

"Let's put a pin in that." He smiles brightly. "I'd love to stay here and talk with you, honey, but I'm afraid I have to run a few errands."

"Is it the plotting?" You ask, flat out.

"Yeah... It's the plotting," he sighs, shaking his head as he walks down the hallway to his office. You giggle as he disappears from view. You're no stranger to the inner workings of a dysfunctional school staff, it's entertaining to just be a secretary instead of a teacher in the middle of it.

After a while, Mr. Gamby returns from delivering new shoes to his daughter. He stomps through the door mumbling something along the lines of "Why the fuck Gail couldn't do it..."

"Hello, welcome back, Mr. Gamby." You wave, greeting him with a smile.

"Grab that ISS Board and follow me," he demands and you do as he says. He assigns the in-school suspension students to clean up duty for the "prank" left outside by the rival school's team this morning.

The next day, a pep rally is organized and Dr. Brown makes a hell of a speech, igniting school spirit all across the student body. You're just happy to be there, but you can see Neal and Lee leaning in to whisper things to each other. You only catch a small snippet from Lee.

"Look at Brown. She's all fucked out," he cackles with Gamby. You know he's speaking about her exhausted, spaced-out appearance, but hearing him use that phrase causes your cheeks to redden.

Throughout the day, you catch yourself attempting to eavesdrop on the two vice principals. Not to intervene or disrupt, but just for the tea. It's boring up front and they seem to know how to stay busy. You don't gather much. Tonight is the big game, and Lee and Neal have been out of sight, out of mind for a while now.

The day comes to an end and the students begin to prepare for the biggest game of the year. Gamby obnoxiously piles into the front office and summons you from your desk, demanding that you follow him with haste.

"We have to stop Mr. Russell from poisoning the North Jackson football team," he grunts as the two of you speedwalk through the corridors.

"He's doing what?!" But your question is left unanswered as the two of you enter the football field. Mr. Gamby quickly spots Mr. Russell across the grass and takes off at full speed after him. You try your best to keep up without exerting yourself.

"Lee! Stop right there. Don't do this," Gamby barges into the locker room behind him after the short pursuit.

"Don't do what? The thing I've already just done? I just did it," Lee shrugs, tossing the small, empty bottle of LSD at Gamby. The two men bicker for a moment before a match of tug of war breaks out between them over the large vat of dosed water meant for the players.

"I command you to let go!" Gamby thunders just before their hands slip, and all three of you become doused in the liquid.

"You fucking idiot! This shit gets absorbed through the skin!" Lee wails.

"What?!" The two men scramble out of the locker room and attempt to flee campus before the drugs kick in.

"Just get the fuck out of here!" Lee shoves Neal out the door and they leave you there, still in shock. The longer you wait, the more it sets in that you're going to trip on school grounds and there's no way around it. You take the drugs by the reigns and attempt to chase down your bosses.

By the time you find them, they're standing under the bleachers holding their arms out in front of two confused students like they have some sort of superpowers.

"You two," you say, voice barely trembling as you attempt to hold it together. You point at the students. "Get the fuck out of here and I won't let them write you up." The two kids nod and flee the scene. As they do, Neal and Lee raise their extended hands, gazing at each other with mouths agape.

"You two," you grab them both by the sleeve and turn them to face you. "This your first trip?" They look at each other and then back at you before nodding out of sync.

"North Jackson High Wins!" A voice booms over the field intercom. Gamby's eyes fall shut in relief, but Lee's just staring at you. It'd be hard to believe he heard the announcer at all with how he gazes into your eyes.

"You got beautiful eyes," Lee mumbles.

"You two need to come with me. We have to get out of here until this shit wears off." You take both of their hands and swiftly guide them back inside the school. You take refuge in the Circle room and place the privacy cover over the door window. "Here. Eat some popcorn. Calm the fuck down and maybe we'll all still have a job tomorrow."

"Ms. Y/L/N, I'm impressed by your initiation." Mr. Gamby misspeaks, staring intently into the pattern on the rug where he sits on a bean bag.

"Thank you, sir. I would've preferred not to be drugged by my bosses."

"Hey, now. Don't go around sayin' shit like that or we're all fucked," Lee chimes in.

"Don't start with me, Mr. Russell. You two were using The Force on some 9th graders who will no doubt have that information spread to everybody before 6 AM tomorrow !" You protest his light scolding. He chuckles at your response, unable to form a sensible response after that.

For the rest of the time in that room, you toss random activities at them to keep them busy. Sometimes it's just showing them the rug again if they've forgotten about it. Once you all come down, you're tired and sore, desperate to get home. The game is long over and the crowd has been gone for hours. The school is empty save for the three of you.

"I'll see you both tomorrow," you grumble, crumpling into your car.

"See you tomorrow, Y/L/N." Gamby waves you off as you pull out of the parking lot.

"She saved your ass tonight, Gamby," Lee smirks.

"She saved our asses tonight, Russell. Guess I didn't do too bad of a job hiring someone by myself, huh? Asshole." Neal settles into his car and pulls off, leaving Lee to sit in his car for a while.

He goes home to an empty house these days. He hasn't dated in 20 years. He wonders if there's any point in even looking at you that way after the mess he orchestrated tonight. He can't deny that your quick thinking saved their skin. You asked if it was their first time doing hallucinogens, and he wonders how often you partake to have been so coherent while they were melting face.

His ride home is quiet and he almost forgets to be pissed that North Jackson won the game and made Belinda look like a goddamn superwoman. He spends most of the journey thinking about you. It follows him home all the way up until he closes his eyes.

Suddenly work isn't so bad. He looks forward to seeing you tomorrow.

[frudoo]

Full Hands Pt. 2

Warnings: None, really. Fem!Reader. Fluff fluff fluff.

Full Hands Masterlist

Exhaustion runs rampant in your bones as you walk along the pavement, habitually avoiding the cracks. Your head pounds and your ears ring, a shrill reminder of the long day’s worth of caring for the screaming children you’re so fond of. As much as you adore your job and the kiddos, you’ll be getting a much needed break while they go on vacation with their parents for the next two weeks. A chance to let your hair down, remind yourself that there’s more to your life than playing temporary-mommy for a few hundred bucks a week. A chance to rediscover the excitement of the city without two tiny, whining voices in your ear.

You’re so lost in your own world that you barely process the sound of your ringtone chiming in the depths of your purse. With a sigh, you pull out your phone to see the screen flashing with the words Unknown Number. Hesitantly, you answer with a soft hello, voice small and unsure.

“Hey, love, it’s John. I was just wonderin’ what time we should meet?”

You let out a relieved sigh, happy to hear that it isn’t some scammer or telemarketer who fished your number out of a database. That familiar deep baritone makes your heart flutter and you’re acutely aware of how unkempt you look—hair disheveled, baby spit-up and spilled coffee all over your dress. God, you’re a wreck. It’ll take a while to pull yourself together.

“You there?” The concerned voice on the other end asks, and your eyes widen before you respond.

“Yes. Yes! Sorry. I-I kinda look a mess right now, I need to get home and grab a shower,” you explain, continuing your journey down the sidewalk.

“Not a problem, darlin’. How’s quarter past six sound?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks and it makes you do the same, nearly dropping your keys as you approach your apartment.

“That sounds perfect. Where are we meeting?”

“Just meet me outside the café again, yeah? We can walk wherever we decide to go,” John suggests with a loud sniff, making you giggle as you kick off your shoes and set your purse on the coffee table.

“Perfect. I’ll see you then,” you grin, heading towards your bedroom to strip out of your dirty sundress.

“See you then, love,” he hums, then three beeps signal that he’s hung up.

With a giddy smile, you capture your bottom lip between your teeth as you save his number in your contacts. It almost feels foreign—you can’t remember the last time a man’s been interested in taking you out, let alone one as handsome as John. Usually they’re scared off by the children you carry around, never giving you the chance to explain that no, you’re not their mother, and you are single. Regardless, it got you where you are now.

It doesn’t take long for you to shower and wash off all the grime of the day, humming quietly to yourself as you scrub your body clean. Once you’re completely dry, you settle for some light makeup that accentuates your pretty features, then slip into a baby blue sundress with a lightweight forest green sweater to match. An airy spritz of your favorite perfume and three different pairs of shoes later, you’re ready to head out the door to go on your date. A date. A word you never thought would apply to you again.

It’s a chilly evening, hues of orange and pink a canvas for the cotton-candy clouds that litter the sky. You clutch your purse to your person tightly as you walk down the pavement, on edge from being alone, but it doesn’t last long. You get the same shiver down your spine as you approach the tall, roguish man. John grins when he spots you, holding up the small collection of flowers he has in his hands.

“Got these for you,” he hums, passing you the bouquet of red poppies. “Figured you like ‘em, since that was the pattern on your dress earlier.”

“Thank you so much!” You smile and lean in to hug him, impressed by his memory and immediately taking in the scent of his spicy cologne as well as the subtle hint of smoke that lingers on his clothes.

John grins again, a gentle thumb rubbing over the peak of your cheekbone. He chuckles at your shy state, a rich, gravely sound that reverberates through his chest. God, you’re such a sight for sore eyes. A welcomed contrast to the bloodshed and tragedy he sees almost daily, something purer than the brutal killer he stares at in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. You’re soft and sweet and succulent, and it takes everything in him to refrain from taking a bite of you like the most indulgent ambrosia.

You sniffle, fighting the urge to lean into his gentle, lingering touch. In the dim patio light, you can see all the off-colored specks in his gorgeous blue eyes, gold flakes ever present in that rich gaze. A cold gust of wind sends goosebumps rising all along your body, and you shiver. John notices, giving your sweater-clad arms a rub for good measure.

“Wanna take you somewhere, darlin’. Just a short walk,” he wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, nodding his head northbound. “If that’s alright with you?”

You bite your lip and nod, secretly thankful that he won't have to spend any more money on you as he guides you away from all the restaurants. The path is well-lit and there’s still plenty of people around, so you walk with him along the sidewalk, taking in his warmth and comforting scent. He walks faster than you expected, nearly having to jog to keep up with him. He notices and slows down a bit, settling for holding your free hand instead. Eventually, he guides you to an ambient park, complete with well-kept flower gardens and a duck pond that follows the pavement trail. It’s much more elegant than the one you take the kids to.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, admiring all the greenery and pretty lights that adorn the pathway.

“I think so,” he replies with a quick shrug, squeezing your hand gently. “I like to come here to decompress. Clear this ol’ noggin.”

“Yeah? What do you do for work?” You ask, peering up at him fondly.

Even his side profile gets your heart racing, handsome and wise and confident in himself.

“Military,” he replies shortly, and his tone suggests that he won’t say any more on the matter.

It makes sense: the way he carries himself, the slight cockiness hidden beneath the kind exterior. He’s not a douche in the slightest, though—at least, not to you. You hope he never will be, but with the way he's looking at you with that beautiful, warm smile, you doubt he ever could.

John doesn’t feel at all like a stranger you just met earlier today. He carries on conversation effortlessly and he’s attentive, genuinely interested in getting to know you. It’s refreshing, to say the least, nice to have someone else to talk to. About an hour of walking and he guides you to sit with him on one of the benches overlooking the pond. Your eyes are already drooping, and the peaceful atmosphere does nothing to keep you awake—the chirping crickets, crisp wind rustling through the leaves of the trees, the occasional quacks from the ducks on the water.

He wraps his arm around your waist and then you’re out, head falling to rest on his broad shoulder. It’s surprisingly comfortable, and although you would scold yourself later for letting your guard down in front of a man you just met, you’re rather alright with it being with him, and he’s happy to sit still for as long as you need. Until you wake, until the park ranger comes to kick the both of you out, until the end of time—no matter to John. You’ve already got him wrapped around your finger.

Next ->

[elminx]

Kitchen Witch Recipes: A Harvest Soup Ritual

With this recipe, I use a different technique than usually applied to kitchen magic (where you apply an individual intention to each ingredient). Instead, the ingredients in our soup are stand-ins for the abundance/wins we have experienced over this growing season. This isn't so much a creation spell as it is an acknowledgment ritual.

As this recipe is written, we are using five main ingredients in this spell; to begin, you should sit down and determine five wins you have had over this harvest season*. These can be big wins like buying a house or getting a new job or smaller wins like getting outside to walk for your stupid mental health on most days. You will want to connect each of your five wins to one of our five ingredients: onion, celery, garlic, apple, and potato. This can be done arbitrarily or with intense purpose as you see fit.

*Whatever that means for you.

This ritual is quite simple. After you have set up your kitchen space as you like to for magic, you begin by becoming better acquainted with your ingredients. As I clean and prepare each of my five ingredients, I like to speak to each and talk about the win that they represent. I use my voice to connect my ingredient with the gratitude that I feel for what has gone my way. You can carve into your ingredients with a pairing knife to write out your win or use sigils during this time. If you do energy work, you can fill the produce with gratitude or your heart's energy. This is the main working of this spell and where you should be spending the most time.

Because we will blend this soup, you do not need to cut your produce into any particular-sized pieces. It helps to cut into equal-sized pieces, but this is unnecessary.

Note here: do your apples last if you are carving into your produce since they will oxidize and turn brown, which is unpleasant

From here, you can continue onwards to make your soup. You can add any kitchen magic here that you like to use in your practice. I like to stir my soup in a clockwise motion since this is a positive working, but this is, of course, up to you. I continue to speak words of gratitude over my soup as I prepare it and I thank each ingredient as I introduce it into my soup. Do what feels right for you here.

When it comes time to blend the soup together, say something like, "As I blend these moments of achievement together, I acknowledge how far I/we have come." As the soup is being served, I might say, "I serve up our past blessings to fuel me/us for future wins."

You will need:

1 Large Yellow Onion

2 stalks Celery

Garlic to taste (I used six to represent abundance)

2 large yellow or red potatoes (or 1 Russett)

2 large or 3 small red apples (pick the ones you like)

Herbs to taste (use what you have)*

A blender, immersion preferably

Salt, pepper

Cooking oil (I use butter)

4 cups Broth (vegetable or chicken) plus two cups water

Parmesan cheese (optional)

Heat oil, add all the produce except your garlic, and slowly cook on moderate heat until the onion is translucent, and the produce has reduced in half - this should take 10-15 minutes. Salt moderately during this step to bring out the flavors and cleanse your ingredients.

Add in your chopped garlic and cook until fragrant

Add in your spice, broth, and water, and bring to a boil

Decrease to a light simmer and cook for 30 minutes

Blend until smooth; Salt and Pepper to Taste

Top with parmesan if using, and serve with a crusty loaf of bread

I don't peel my produce for this soup, but you can do it if you prefer. If you like a chunkier soup, you can blend half of it and return it to the pot. I imagine a dollop of pesto would be amazing on top, but I haven't tried that yet.

*You can spice this soup in any way you prefer for a vegetable soup. My partner and I make a spice from our farmshare herbs (basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano, sage, and savory) that is lovely on vegetables, so I use that. Any Italian blend will work. You can easily add additional intentions into this soup if you wish with your herb choice.

What I like about this ritual is that it is a great way to include other people who may not think magically in a ritual without it being too over the top. To include your entire household in this, you can choose 5 wins for your household and assign one to each ingredient. The carrots could be "Dad's raise" and the potatoes "Jimmy's Straight A's in Allegbra". If you are focused on your wins, the soup should be shared with you and your spirits; if you are focused on your family's wins, share it with the whole family.

This is, as usual, meant to be a starting point for a ritual - you should add your magic in any way that makes sense for your practice. You could adapt this idea by applying it to a different meal. I suggest using late-season/harvest ingredients for this, whatever you make, as that best aligns with this ritual's concept.

Do you like my work? You can tip me on Kofi.

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter three: in the blink of a crinkling eye

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

masterlist

PREVIOUS PART -- CHAPTER TWO: MAKING AMENDS

warnings: language, fatshaming, self deprecation,

word count: 3.4k

Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @blackwidownat2814 @blackbirdwitch22

A/N: chapter three finally!! enjoy :) also comment if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Ever since that day, you and Bucky quickly became practically inseparable. Always sitting next to each other in meetings, he’d always come to visit whenever he could, and you’d always be jetted off to missions together.

It only took an hour or two for you to open up, pour all the poison that had slowly been burning away your insides, and the both of you lightening your burdens to each other in the dead of night. The dreams leave you both quite lonely. 

You’re busy patching Steve up, just applying ointment to a bruise you’re both sure will disappear before he even leaves the infirmary. He comments on how happy you’ve seemed lately as you talk away about the plans you and Bucky have for the next weekend, discussing your idea to buy him some new clothes more suited to a man in the 21st century. And then Tony Stark walks in the room, wearing his classic thick, black sweater and looking worried as hell. 

“Nurse! We need to talk.” He looks directly at you, and you flinch at his raised tone. He clocks on immediately, softening his approach. You lead him into a neighbouring empty room.

“What’s this about Mr Stark?” You remain, ever polite. You clasp your hands in front of you, smiling expectantly. He shoves his hands in his pockets, wondering how to phrase his next words.

“I know you’ve talked to FRIDAY about your spot at dinner…but I was just informed that you asked her to not have your meal sent to your room. Is everything okay? Do you need to speak to someone?” You’re well aware of what he thinks, what he’s insinuating. You’ve been here before, the last time Sharon made a mean comment about you was the last time you set foot in that damned dining room. 

You swallow the bitter memory, making way for the sweet words about to leave your mouth. “No, sir. Everything’s alright with me. I asked FRIDAY to not send my meals to my room, because…well, I was thinking of coming to dinner tonight. Bucky talked me into it, and I think I should stop holding onto things that happen so long ago now.” You smile, letting your affection for the super soldier known. 

He relaxes, but shoots you a confused look. “Metalbox? Really?” 

“Yeah. We’re kind of good friends now.” He nods. “Alright, let me know the second anything changes or if anything is said that makes you uncomfortable. Okay?”

You nod this time, assuring him. He walks you out and lets you return to the infirmary, where Bucky is waiting for you. Your smile brightens by a millions Watts, but Bucky never seems blinded. 

“Hey Buck!” You say, taking a standstill right in front of him. You haven’t really discussed how either of you stand on physical contact, but when he wraps you in a warm hug, you don’t fight it. You own arms end up around his middle, turning the embrace into something a lot more intimate, but too lost in each other to care. 

The nickname of a nickname has him completely melting into every soft curve of you and never wanting to leave, forever entranced by the lingering scent of your lotion and perfume, the perfectly concocted pheromones only for him. 

“Hey, doll. I missed you.” His tone is so soft, your heart can barely take it. What started off as a simple attraction has now fully snowballed into a crush of embarrassing proportions, and the fact that he even wants to be around you to this degree has you completely giddy. 

When his words are such sugar, when his touch lingers just half a millisecond longer than it should, you are able to delude yourself he feels the same. You know you’re wrong, you just haven’t been shown such attention since you stopped being naturally amazing at everything as a child. But you dream anyway, of blue seas and black and gold. 

“Missed you too. Did you have a busy day sparring?” He nods, keeping an arm around you as you both walk down the long corridors, arms welded like lovers to each other’s backs. 

“Yeah, I got to practise giving Steve an ass whooping today to show the trainees how to defeat someone when held at knifepoint.”

“Oh, you have to show me sometime,” you say excited, trying not to show how hot you’re starting to run at the idea of Bucky dismantling someone despite the weapons they may yield. It makes you feel safer, snuggling up to him all that tighter. 

And then the doors to your seemingly worse nightmares appear. Simple, made of black glass and sliding open when it recognises the two of you trying to get in. 

She’s really not going to eat all of that, is she? The cruel words ring in your head and you swallow hard. “Hey, we don’t have to go if you changed your mind. We can just go to that restaurant I was telling you about on Monday.”

How long will you let your fears consume you? You shake your head. “That’s awfully sweet of you, Buck. Really, but I want to. I have to try, at least. Plus, its not just her and me in there. There’s Steve, and Nat and Wanda’s just come back from her mission, and Thor’s visiting. And you’ll be next to me. Won’t you?” You look up at him bashfully, as if you expect him to say no.

You have no idea how much he wants to kiss you and that pout on your lips. “Yeah, of course I’ll be there, doll. Always.” You grin like you’re surprised, solemnly untangling yourself from his arms as you step inside. Not that you hate the physical contact, but the idea of partaking in such activities in the presence of other people makes you sweat. You’ve never been one to share details about your romantic life, expecting nothing but a dissection and a ridicule once your chest cavity opens. You know these groups of people may not be like that, but the strange pain still ascends up your chest. You feel Bucky’s presence behind you, though, warm hand just centimetres away from yours like a promise of quick reassurance. 

The room falls silent, and you notice how you and Bucky are the last two members to enter, and so theres only two open seats — one right next to Sharon and another directly in front of her. You swallow, not knowing which position is worse when Steve warmly beckons you over to sit next to him, the seat directly opposite Sharon. 

You smile and accept his offer, watching Bucky as he walks around the table to begrudgingly take a seat in between two people, blue eyes burning like he’d much rather swap with Steve. “Nurse! How nice of you to join us!” Tony beckons from the head of the table, and everyone cheers and welcomes you warmly, Steve patting your back gently. It almost drowns out the scoff. 

You stay mainly quiet, keeping to yourself. It’s your first day here, in this dining room, and you’ll take some time to get adjusted. Hopefully a certain someone will keep her mouth shut and you’ll come back tomorrow. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Steve whispers down at you in between courses. “Me too, actually. This isn’t too horrible.” You smile just as the servers set down a plate of your favourite dish — a completely vegan chicken Alfredo and garlic bread — right in front of you, hot and steaming. Your stomach grumbles embarrassingly loudly and you try your best to stay oblivious to it, not noticing how Bucky’s eyes are trained on you, at how cute you look when you’re flustered. 

He chuckles and you meet his eye, smiling warmly. You get through the meal without a single hitch, and it seems that someone’s chastised Sharon before you could enter the room. You’re eternally grateful to that person, whoever that is.

During the meal, you get to hear stories of the time when Steve was at “war” with Tony, of childhood incidents from the 1930s, and the way Bucky acts when he’s drunk as shit. Thor’s brought some Asgardian liquor with him, knowing even the finest wine in the Tower’s cellar wouldn’t even get him buzzed. 

One by one, people start bidding goodnight, until it’s just Thor, Bucky and you. Steve has to be up at 5 tomorrow, to prepare for a meeting, or so he says. 

“And then he calls me a son of a bitch!” Thor explains, loud enough for you to flinch. He and Bucky laugh in uproar, and the sound of it takes you away. You find yourself staring, at his tipped back head and his wide grin, so beautiful all you want to do is climb in his lap and kiss him senseless. You refrain, of course. 

“Alright, I think it’s time for bed, Buck. Should we go?” You use your thumb to point behind you, and he nods.

“Yes, I would go anywhere for you, doll. All you have to do is ask.” You roll your eyes, not knowing intoxication also makes him a terrible flirt.

You gently move to him when he wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you tight to him, face buried in your soft stomach. “Mm, can we just stay like this for a while, please?” He flashes you his bright blue puppy dog eyes, and you can’t resist. Shoulders sag as you breathe out a laugh at him. “Just a minute, then we’ll get you back to your room. Okay?” He nods, pressing his gorgeous face against your middle once again, and you can’t help but smile. He’s adorable. You gently run your hands through his hair, completely oblivious to Thor’s hunkering form leaving his seat. "How is it that a woman as perfect as you exists even in the 21st century?" He drunkenly grumbles. "It's genetics, darling." You smile like you've been completely lovestruck, and it's inevitably gotten to your head. "No, doll, I'm being serious. You're so perfect, feels like I was made to complement you. So pretty…"

“Alright, time for bed. Come on.” You drag him up and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. He’s so heavy you find it hard to breathe and reluctantly pull away from his warmth. One arm around his back, you gently guide him to his room in the same fashion he’s brought you to the dining room. The entire time there, he rattles off every synonym for beautiful he can think of as you fight against a smile harder and harder. There is a drunken veracity to him in this moment, and you don’t have it in you to fight him in such a state. You haven’t had more than a glass yourself, leaving you perfectly capable of safely navigating the long corridor, planning to drop him off and safely retreat to your own room just beside his. But he pulls you in.

“Stay with me…please, doll. Need you.” His breath is hot against your ear, tone soft and needy. Like he’s two seconds away from getting on his knees and begging you.

You yield. “Okay, Buck. Let’s just get you to bed, alright?” He nods, head lolling against his shoulders. On your way to the bed, you trip over one of his socks, his shoes long discarded at the entrance, slipping. He catches you without so much as a second thought or grunt. Reminding you of his strength. His hands on your waist turn you around, and you let out a yelp as your back meets the bed, his chest meeting yours and knocking the breath out of you.

Your hands grip the sheets while you’re trying your best to not look at him, his kind words reverberating around your head. His supposed infatuation, though deep down you know isn’t true. It can’t be. 

“Stop squirming. Look at me.” He whispers, metal hand cupping your face. He’s become more confident in using it when he’s around you, you’ve noticed. But you haven’t seen how much it means to him, to have someone who didn’t know him before, and only after. Someone who knows everything and loves him despite it. Now, the definition of love used in the previous sentence can be heavily disputed —is it platonic, or something more? He feels the latter brewing in his chest, but he’s more than happy with either option. He just wants you by his side, soft and warm and everything good in the world all wrapped up in one woman.

When your eyes meet his, the sky blue has you swallowing. It’s so clear you feel like you’re flying. Even with his crushing weight sandwiching you between him and the mattress, you ache for him. More than you’ll ever admit, even as his bitter-tinted breath washes over your face.

“So pretty…Do you know how much I fucking want you? Even when I can hear every whisper, every sigh, every goddamned sound you make in here when you’re alone, after we say goodnight. All I want is to knock on your door. Would you ever answer, if I did?” His eyes are glued to your mouth, the colour entrancing him. You let out the smallest sigh, and you feel his thumb rub against your lower lip, making your eyelids flutter. The motion stirs something inside you, deep and primal, rabid and wanting. 

“Yes…” You respond before your brain has even a second to catch up, to filter your thoughts. You see his pupils dilate in real time, entranced by the sight as he takes you in, the metal pushing against your teeth no longer cold. He asks you like he hasn’t already knocked, albeit for other purposes, and you haven’t already answered at the drop of a hat.

He leans in closer and closer, and you both are aware of the current pace of your heart, slamming in your ears like you would upon a door. Your head tilts up as his moves down, hot lips just grazing along yours, igniting every bone in your body as your hands grab at his chest instead, and he lets out a breath. You swallow it, eyes closing, giving in to the desires you’ve kept locked in a bottle deep inside your chest, just under your diaphragm.

Then reality come hurtling towards you like a freight train.

“Bucky…stop.” You push a hand against his chest, surprised to feel his heart pounding just as fast as yours. You’re full expecting for push to come to shove, but to your almost disbelief, he retracts immediately. Completely off, and lying next to you, while you try to hold back tears.

You know the truth — he doesn’t really want you. He’s just drunk, and you’re the only female body around. Nothing more.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You gaze is fixed on the ceiling, unable to look at him even when he’s on his side, eyes trained on you. “After everything I’ve told you about my…my past. All the bullying, and the trauma, and the pain. Why—Why?” Several shaky breaths escape you, trying to blink back the tears. 

His fingers brush your temples frantically, absorbing the salt as he talks over himself. “Wait…Wait no. I— Doll, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I don’t wanna make you cry. No, no no, not what I meant, not what I—“ You turn to meet his eyes, grabbing his wrist in yours and unable to stop yourself from stroking the inside of it with your thumb. 

“Then what did you mean? I’ve told you, how people treat attraction to me like a joke. And then the second you have some alcohol in your system, you start acting the same way?”

“But it’s not a joke! I’m not joking when I call you beautiful. I think—I know you are, doll. Why else would I say it? You know I hate lying…” As you gaze upon his distraught expression, you realise the error of your ways, knowing he probably won’t remember any of this. So what’s the point of wasting your breath twice? For now, you accept it, lock it away for another day.

“Alright…Let’s just go to bed now, okay? I’m tired, baby.” The nickname slips out absentmindedly, and the way his mouth falls open lets you know that you didn’t overstep as his tongue traces his lips in the same way you wish to do so. 

“Yes! Let’s get my pretty baby some well deserved rest. Works too hard…” His eyes begin to close with his hand still fondly placed on your cheek, but you jerk him awake.

“No, Buck, not like this. Properly, let’s find you some comfy clothes and tuck you in. Come on.” You stand up, extending a hand to him. God, he looks so pretty from this angle, staring at you like you’re his sun and it’s a lazy picnic in the park. He entwines his fingers with yours, again bringing up that feeling of desperation in your system but you tamp it down. You gently hum the latest song stuck in your head as you get him ready for bed, slowly taking off his socks and handing him his comfiest pair of sleeping shorts, informing him of every step before you take it so you can give him the chance to tell you if you’re about to do something he doesn’t want.  What you don’t realise is that there is nothing you could do that he wouldn’t welcome. He knows you wouldn’t hurt him, only show him the gentle warmth he’s been deprived of for decades with your light fingertips and heavy gaze. You turn your back as he changes, giving him some privacy.

He doesn’t let you leave, scared you won’t come back to him. He’s never been like this, so desperate to keep you by him. You’ve only known each other a month, and you two often stay up together when he knocks after a nightmare, either diffusing the bomb in his head with mellow hands, or holding him tight as you both lose your worries to some old sitcom you introduced him to. In your heart, you can’t find yourself to leave, either. And so you use a spare toothbrush he keeps in his bathroom to get ready for bed, stealing one of his shirts he handed to you with the brightest, most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. When you throw it over your head, you relish in the remnants of his cologne and something else, something so innately Bucky, that all you want is to bury yourself in his scent intertwined with the magic fabric of his shirt, which turns out to be loose on you. 

You set your hair, marvelling at how big he is, that his shirt is loose on every part of your body. A secret part of you wonders if he’s done it on purpose, intending to give you his clothes and opting for this looser fit…You quickly dispel the notions, ditching your bra and formal outfit on the floor, rubbing your tired eyes.

Bucky lays on his side, facing you and taking you in as you walk out. He lets out a groan and you wonder if it’s related. “You look so pretty in my clothes…fuck. Come back to bed, beautiful.” He outstretches his arms, making grabbing motions at you with his hands like an adorable child. You chuckle at his neediness and brush off the compliment as you settle into bed next to him, suddenly shy of the space in his bed you’re taking up. It’s been ages since you slept in the same bed as someone else…but you try not to dwell on it.

Bucky flips around immediately, sliding a warm arm around your waist and pulling you closer, eyes already closed. He’s so hot, practically a furnace when he pulls you in, like he can’t stand to be apart from you. What has the alcohol done to him?

“Good night, doll.” He rests his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His warmth is beautiful, and your glad his eyes are closed so he can’t see the absolutely wanting look plastered over your face, so deep it makes you physically ache inside your chest when you lift a hand to stroke through his hair, so soft like the sigh that escapes him. Like you soothe him, and it’s all he’s been waiting for.

“Good night, Buck.” Sleeps comes quite easily.

NEXT PART

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

20 minutes of my life I'll never get back. 🤦‍♂️

I must be a glutton for punishment because I actually watched Kinsey Schofield's 20 min interview w/Valentine Low. May this rant save you from making the same mistake:

Valentine Low & Kinsey Schofield just reminded me that the British press is in desperate need of a grief recovery workshop to let go of their palace manufactured PR image of Sparry, "the CONSERVATIONIST," and accept the REALITY: Sparry has ALWAYS been a member of the lost boys who never intend to grow up. He loves drugs, perverted soho house sex play pens, and living a secret lifestyle in San Francisco, CA. As we saw in the South Park Documentary, Sparry has always wanted to be left alone so he can just bang on his drums all day.

The British media needs to accept that they never knew the Sparry aka Prince Harry. Much like Fergie & Andrew: The Meghans are two (2) intellectually below average individuals who married in haste. Both their academic & professional work histories indicate that these two (2) immature adults, lack even the basic skills necessary to function in society without the help of a PR "machine" whose job is to clean up their messes and repeatedly rebrand them into more acceptable members of polite society. It's past time for Valentine Low and other UK journalists to admit that they never really knew Sparry. All their Diana goodwill should now be invested into the future of the BRF (the family of Prince William)

No amount of hoping for the best or "covering up" for Sparry's misdeeds can transform the moral rot in his character. They bought and sold the PR image manufactured by the palace. It was the paparazzi & other "undesirables" who had the misfortune of observing the REAL Sparry. They watched him mistreat drivers, security, staffers, etc long BEFORE he was seduced by MEgain.

V Low believes Sparry flew a helicopter! 😳 Come on! Too many REAL service members have spoken out about Sparry's military character and performance and there's nothing good about it.

Sparry, like his wife is also a liar and a bully. He's not intellectually bright, he never was... He even bullied his grandparents before the "spectacle," he bullied Meghan's father...we heard reports about seeking a left wing wife and his interest in living in the US----all before MEgain.

Low also thinks Sparry loves his children. Has Valentine Low ever seen the invisibles? No. He's transferred a PR image to a couple of never before seen kids and their so called father. A so-called "father" who is willing to destroy his brother's children (and the innocent children of other couples) through the spread of destructive lies, has zero interest in the REAL wellbeing of anyone's kids, least of all his own.

As for the Wife: her ability to earn a college degree as an American teenager/young adult without even the offer of an ACADEMIC scholarship means that she too is mediocre and overrated. Her university commencement program states that she was a candidate for a degree in "communications" NOT some whip smart area of study like biochemistry or engineering! 🤦‍♂️

As a university student, thanks to her dad's brother (mike), she spent a measly six (6) weeks in Argentina on an exchange program (paid by her father) until she failed an exam that would have allowed her to apply for (real) jobs in the States. An intellectual or any hard worker would have studied until she passed the test. Not Rachel Meghan Markle. If no one was willing to make an exception for her low marks, then she would whore her way up a series of ladders until she found someone dumb enough to give her a platform.

No, this is NOT a "smart" couple. This couple is a cautionary tale about how Water seeks it's own level: Sparry's mother and teachers did him a disservice, just as MEgain's father did her a disservice: SPARE the rod & SPOIL the child

Kinsey believes that MEgain is "smart" because she achieved a Duchess title. (What does this tell us about Kinsey's IQ. 🤦‍♂️😳)

MEgain became a "Duchess" because she was a professional "seductress" employeed by Markus Anderson & Soho House. Everything this couple achieves is smoke & mirrors based on TRANSACTIONAL relationships where they bully & harass anyone standing in their way.

They don't even possess good work ethics, let alone above average IQs. Please call a spade a spade (or in this case a spare a spare) and stop gaslighting the public about what Sparry could have done had he not been involved with the wife.

We watched the wife verbally abuse KP staffers over bereavement flowers and feckless Sparry stood by in AGREEMENT. Wicked queen Jezebel 2.0 and traitorous king ahab 2.0. Let them go!

[kwanisms]

Under Your Skin 03 — s.changbin

playlist

➮ tattoo artist!Changbin × fem!Reader summary: Everything seemed to fall into place for Y/N. She had a loving boyfriend, her dream job, and the bestest friend in the universe. She never thought her life was missing something until she was introduced to Changbin, the town's newest tattoo artist who happens to be harboring an unimaginable secret. genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, “forbidden” love, strangers to lovers; supernatural themes; non idol au, tattoo artist au, werewolf au, supernatural au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, established boyfriend!Joshua (please note this story does NOT include cheating)

series taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @x-woozi @candidupped @snow-pegasus @brownieracha @avyskai @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @biribarabiribbaem @mchslut @hgema @oiminho @ughyeka @honey-lemon-goose @fixation-dump @sleeplessdawn @changbinnss @racha-enthusiast @sanjoongie @chillllllli @nattisbored @chrollosforehead @tai-loves-skz @labyrinthonmymind @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @mamieishere @mariesakamari @buttergumz @emithecharmer @binnies-donuts @v3n0mszn @kazzilla @jihanlovic @thezombiepandaleague @moonl1ghtmuse @woozarts @ateezkeepmysoul

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If you don't see your name, I cannot tag your blog or you've been removed for either being a minor or not having your age listed on your blog. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: here we have chapter 3. I lost some steam for this after being so strong in the beginning but I finally finished it. There isn't much to say other than here it is. I finished it lmao it's a slow burn so it'll take some time before we see any Changbin action. I hope you like it and as always, I love feedback and pls consider reblogging if you liked this chapter!

A huge thank you to Sky ☁️ for this entire story idea. Without her late night thoughts, this series wouldn’t even exist. Also a massive thank you to @icybluehosh for her professional input on all things tattoos. Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

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𝗰𝗵 𝟬𝟯 - 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁

wc: 16.1k «« previous || masterlist || next »»

Soft subtle jazz tones floated through the air as you worked, a soft but catchy beat causing you to bob your head as you tapped your foot.

You’d been working on this new set, a beautiful antique set from Japan. You had finished making the gold paste earlier and were currently applying it to the broken seams of the carafe while Mr. Serizawa worked in the woodshop.

An old couch had been brought into the shop in dire need of restoration. The foam was lumpy and lopsided, the upholstery was ripped and beyond salvaging, and one of the back legs was broken, having splintered off. 

He’d spent most of the previous day stripping the loveseat down to its basics, tossing the old upholstery and foam cushion. You didn’t have much time to watch, having finished painting the details on the English tea set which was drying in the safety of your cabinet.

The whirr of the sander had been drowned out long ago as you listened to the music Mr. Serizawa put on instead. He did it as a courtesy to your ears but you’d learned a long time ago how to tune out the noise while you worked. 

You held two pieces of ceramic together, joining them at their seam with glue and once it set, you placed them aside to finish drying before you could add the resin. It was tedious work but you loved it all the same. Your eyes wandered to the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost six pm.

You wiped your fingers on your apron as you stood up, grabbing a cloth from your table as you walked over to the door of the woodshop, covering your nose and mouth with the cloth.

You peered in where you saw your boss looking over his work, sanding the wooden surfaces of the couch smooth before applying the stain. You took his break in sanding to call out to him and get his attention.

“It’s almost six pm, Mr. Serizawa!”

He looked up and you had to fight the urge to laugh at his appearance. He had forgotten his goggles and was instead wearing a pair of black sports sunglasses with blue shift lenses and his respirator. He always wore a pair of coveralls when he worked on furniture to protect his clothes from dust, stain, paint, and resin. He looked quite silly.

“Is it really?” he asked, his voice muffled by the mask. You nodded as he lifted the sunglasses.

“You don’t need to stay to close up,” he said as he turned off and set aside the electric sander, stepping over the cord as he moved towards you. “I’ll close up tonight. Shinju is making pork belly for dinner so it will be ready by the time I close up shop,” he added. You smiled at the mention of his wife.

Ever since his call the other day, he reported her progress each day. It filled you with relief that Shinju was doing so well. “Are you sure?” you asked softly as he started to walk back over to the work desk. He nodded, waving you away. “Just make sure to put that finished set out for sale!” he said, pointing as you started to walk away.

You moved to your station and cleaned up your supplies and left the pieces to dry as you opened the cabinet housing the finished English set. Carefully, you gathered all the pieces before closing the door and heading to the front where you set the items on the counter and started to write up a description and figure out a price.

As you were placing the set on one of the shelves, the front door opened. You looked up, expecting a customer but were surprised to see your best friend entering, the soft jingle of the bell echoing around the shop.

“Be right with you!” you heard Mr. Serizawa’s voice from the back. “I’ve got it!” you called back and turned to Lilah who smiled at you as she shut the door. “Is it a bad time?” she asked which you shook your head as you turned back to the shelf and set up the description and price tag.

Lilah walked over to look at the newest addition, leaning in to see all the tiny details.

“You really have a knack for that,” she noted as you moved behind the counter to add the English set to the inventory roster, adding the price and date. “Thanks,” you replied as you set the book back under the counter and looked up at your best friend. She was dressed rather casually you noticed but there was something about her make up that had you second guessing your assumption.

“What’s up?” you asked as she looked at you expectantly. “Are you off?” she asked. You nodded, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the counter. “Good,” Lilah said leaning in as well. “Cause we’ve been invited to a house party.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, stepping back and moving away from the counter. “Lilah,” you started.

She followed as you walked out from behind the counter and towards the curtain that blocked off the back of the shop. Lilah followed you, pushing the green curtain aside as she stepped into the backroom. “Come on, Y/N!” she whined. You turned to her and noticed Mr. Serizawa peering out from the woodshop door. “Is that Lilah?” he called.

Lilah turned to look over her shoulder. “Hi Mr. Serizawa,” she said politely, greeting him. His face lit up. “Oh good to see you!” he said with a smile. “Make her leave,” he added, nodding towards you as you sat back down behind your desk.

Lilah turned back to you, giving you a smirk as she waited for you to move.

You sighed heavily and stood back up, reaching behind to untie your apron.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay, Mr. Serizawa?” you called as you folded and set your apron aside. His head appeared in the doorway into the woodshop again.

“It’s Friday night,” he started. “Go have fun with your friends!”

Lilah smiled brightly, thanking him as she ushered you out of the backroom, grabbing your things hastily in an effort to get out of the building faster. You whined as she shoved you out the front door, allowing it to shut. You glanced back in time to see your boss locking the door and waving you off.

You allowed Lilah to steer you town the sidewalk, no doubt in the direction of the party. “Wait,” you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to halt as well. You glanced down at your outfit and looked back up at her. “You don’t want me to change?” you asked and she smiled, shaking her head.

“You look perfectly fine,” she replied, linking arms with you and starting off down the sidewalk again.

Compared to her outfit, you looked ready to run errands in your peach floral skirt and cream colored blouse. There’s no way Lilah would have deemed this party appropriate under normal circumstances. You stopped her again. “Why do you keep stopping?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “What’s your deal?” you asked suddenly. “You’d never let me go to a party dressed in my grandma clothes,” you added, using her words, not yours.

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Will you stop,” she asked, taking your arm again. “You look cute right now,” she added as she steered you down the pavement to the end of the block. “It’s just a house party.” 

“And besides,” she continued. “You have a boyfriend, so it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone!” You rolled your eyes as you made a turn at the end of the sidewalk and started down the street that led into a residential area. “And another reason is because we’d have to go to your place and then come all the way back here which would take longer,” she said as you neared the end of the block where you could hear heavy bass coming from one of the houses.

The true reason why she didn’t want you to go home and change. She wanted to save time.

“Are we going to see Chris?” you asked as you neared the house.

It was a medium craftsman style home with a nice sized front porch with the signature columns framing it. The front door was a rich red wood with glass windows at the top. The house was two stories with a small fenced in front yard and a one car driveway leading up to a small garage.

The front door opened as the two of you headed up the steps, a few partygoers exiting just before Lilah shoved you over the threshold.

Inside was like a scene out of a movie. The living room was just off the foyer with a staircase just in front of the door that led up to the second floor. To the left of the foyer was the dining room where the dining table had been moved aside and a beer pong table had been set up.

A crowd was gathered in the dining room watching the current match. Next to the staircase was a hallway that led all the way to the back of the house but you couldn’t see much as it was pretty crowded. Lilah dragged you into the crowd, bypassing the living room where a DJ had set up a table and all his equipment.

Lilah led you into an opening in the wall and into the kitchen.

You wove through the crowd until you reached the kitchen island where the drink station had been set up. Lilah was quick to pour you a drink despite your protesting. “It’s not that strong,” she told you over the bass. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip, amused that she was right.

Lilah finished making her own drink before taking your hand and taking a large sip. She dragged you through the house, no doubt looking for Chris. You kept your wits about you, looking around as you dodged people and danced around them until you were back in the foyer, facing the dining room.

A few people had moved and you could now see on one end of the table was Chris and Minho. ‘They must be one of the teams,’ you told yourself as you sipped your drink. Lilah only waited a moment before dragging you into the mix and worming her way through the crowd until she reached Chris’ side as Minho aimed and bounced the ball in his hand into one of the cups on the opposite side.

Half the crowd erupted into cheers as Chris and Minho celebrated their small victory.

Chris turned from Minho and you watched as his eyes landed on Lilah and even you could see the way his expression changed. It was like no one else was in the room. It was the way Joshua used to look at you.

“Hey!” you heard him say, pulling Lilah into a hug. “You made it!”

You turned your attention to him as he spoke to you. “And you, too?” he asked, offering a hug which you accepted. Despite the empty cups in front of him, he smelled like cologne and not the alcohol you knew he’d consumed since before you even arrived.

“Yeah,” you replied. “She kidnapped me from work!” You nodded at Lilah who smiled sheepishly. Chris turned to look at Lilah, mimicking her grin. “I hope you don’t get in trouble for leaving work,” he replied. You shook your head as Lilah answered him.

“No, in fact, her boss practically kicked her out!”

Chris let out a laugh as he picked up his drink and downed the rest of it. He turned to Minho. “I’m gonna go get a refill,” he announced. Minho nodded nonchalantly before his eyes landed on you and you could have sworn you saw a small smile grace his features before he turned his attention on the opposing team. 

Lilah leaned into your frame to speak directly into your ear. “I’m gonna go help Chris,” she said before downing the rest of her drink and sending you a wink. And just like that, she left you alone.

You looked into your cup, wanting to avoid the gaze of practically everyone.

As you tried to act natural, you felt someone’s gaze on you and glanced up at the side across from Minho and Chris’ and felt your breath catch in your throat.

Changbin was standing with his friend, Jeongguk. They were the opposing team. Jeongguk was sporting a black oversized tee as he usually did but instead of his signature sweats you’d seen him in twice now, he was wearing a pair of jeans and some brown Timberlands.

Changbin on the other hand was dressed for the occasion, wearing a black graphic shirt with white geometric lines and black cargo pants fitted at the ankle and tucked into black combat boots and for the first time you’d ever seen, he was wearing black framed glasses. A pair of dog tags hung from the chain around his neck. Jeongguk was looking at Minho, a very cheeky smile on his lips as he pointed at Minho who glanced down and groaned at seeing a small white ball in one of the cups.

Changbin, however, had his eyes trained on you. His expression was unreadable but when he noticed you looking back, a small smile, almost a shy one, spread across his lips before he looked away. You looked away as well as Lilah and Chris returned with fresh drinks, laughing at some joke you hadn’t heard.

The party raged on around you and you downed your drink. Chris had offered to get you a refill but it was Minho who went instead, despite your protests. Your second drink dwindled quickly and soon you were venturing into the kitchen for something else to sip on.

The pong game had ended after Minho brought your second drink to you and the group had migrated into the kitchen nook, taking up empty seats around the table. Lilah had taken up residence on Chris’ lap and a girl whose name you didn’t know managed to steal Changbin’s lap and make it her spot.

You tried not to watch out of the corner of your eye as the two of them chatted animatedly about his tattoos and as he spoke, he pointed them out to her. You also tried not to pay attention to the way her hand rested on his bicep a little longer than necessary.

Changbin didn’t seem to mind the attention from what you could tell. As you tried to focus on anything else, you noticed in the living room Seungcheol who was leaning into and talking to… Joshua?

Your boyfriend laughed at something Seungcheol said before he caught your eye. He sent a smile your way and turned back to his friend. You managed to find something else to drink and were back at the table, ignoring the way the girl on Changbin’s lap was whispering into his ear.

You tried to focus on the conversation at hand.

“That place was so unsanitary, I’m glad they shut it down,” Ari said from her spot next to Minho who had his arm draped across the back of her chair. “It was an iconic staple!” Lilah argued, turning her head to look at Ari. The blonde rolled her eyes. “You got food poisoning from there like five times, Lil,” she reminded your best friend.

“When did you get food poisoning five times?” you interjected, drawing the attention of half the table.

The girl on Changbin’s lap finally seemed to notice you, giving you a once over before speaking.

“Uh, who the hell are you?” she demanded.

Your attention snapped to her.

You couldn’t focus on her face. Instead, you looked past her at Changbin.

He was looking at her with a look of unmistakable anger. He tapped her back, motioning for her to get up. She got up, still looking at you as he got up and excused himself from the table and disappeared into the crowd.

“She’s my best friend, Pax,” Lilah said sternly. Ari nodded, turning to look at Pax. “Don’t be a cunt, Paxton,” she added. You downed the rest of the liquid in your cup and excused yourself, feeling the overwhelming urge to run away and cry.

It had never bothered you before when some of Lilah’s friends asked who you were but when someone looked at you with such disdain, it really dug deep.

You returned to the kitchen island, glancing around. Joshua was nowhere in sight and you wondered briefly what he was up to. “Hey,” a voice said and you looked up. A man you’d never seen before was standing across from you at the island. “Keep walking buddy,” another voice said and you watched as Minho and Ari passed you, heading for the dance floor.

“Yeah,” Ari added. “She’s taken!”

The two of them disappeared into the dancing crowd, leaving you to the mercy of this talkative stranger.

“So you’re not single I take it?” he asked as you searched through the available drinks. You shook your head. “Nope,” you answered. He leaned in, watching you with brown eyes. “Then where’s your boyfriend?” he asked. You looked up to meet his gaze. 

He was decent looking and who knows. Maybe if you weren’t dating Joshua, you might have taken him up to one of the bedrooms. “He’s around here somewhere,” you replied, sifting through the small trough of ice on the counter, looking through the canned and bottled drinks.

“You should try the punch,” the guy said before winking and standing up straight. “Your boyfriend is a lucky man,” he added before bidding you a goodnight and walking away. Your eyes fell on the bowl of punch and deciding what the hell, you grabbed a clean cup and reached for the ladle.

You scooped a couple ladlefuls into your cup and placed the ladle back into the bowl before lifting the cup to your lips. Before you could take a sip, however, a hand grabbed the cup and tore it from your hand. You looked over as Changbin dumped the cup into the sink and tossed the cup before holding up an unopened can of soda.

You looked from the can up to his eyes and then took the can, offering a small thanks.

He gave you a small smile as you opened the can and took a sip, silence falling over the two of you.

“Lilah mentioned your tolerance,” he said just loud enough for you to hear him. You felt heat rise to your face so instead of speaking, you took another sip of the soda. Changbin watched you before speaking again. “And I’m pretty sure I saw someone spike the punch with something other than alcohol.”

You looked at him, brows raised. He was… looking out for you? You nodded silently, taking another sip of your soda before raising the can. “Thanks by the way,” you said and started to walk away. Changbin followed as you wove through the crowded kitchen.

“So, where did Paxton go?” you asked, noticing she was no longer seated at the table. Changbin glanced at the table before his gaze fell back on you. “Eh, she’s probably with someone else right now,” he answered. “To be honest, I wasn’t really interested in her.”

Changbin had no idea why he was even telling you this. It’s not like you cared about his dating life. Or so he thought. “What about Hana?” He looked up at you, the shock on his face must have shown because you continued to speak. “She seemed nice.” Changbin nodded slowly, still astonished you were even asking.

“Uh, she was,” he admitted. “But we didn’t really have that much in common. The attraction was mainly surface level,” he added. He let out a chuckle. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she only wanted to date me because she might get free tattoos.”

You looked up from your drink, clearly surprised by this admission. You looked away and said something under your breath, prompting him to ask you to say it again.

“If people want you to tattoo them, they should pay for it. Regardless if they’re dating you or work for you,” you replied. “Art is art and people need to remember that artists are people who deserve to be paid for their work.” If Changbin hadn’t already respected you as an artist he certainly did before.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said more to himself than to you but you seemed to have heard him anyway. “Take my art for instance,” you said as he listened. “If I just gave it away to friends or my boyfriend or my family, the shop would never make any money off something I spent hours, even days, making.”

Changbin nodded as you continued. “Art is a valid career and people need to remember that,” you added, taking another sip of your soda. Changbin watched you briefly before contributing to the conversation. “I’m glad someone else feels the same way about art. A lot of people see art as a hobby and not a livelihood so they expect you to do it for free,” he said as he leaned against the counter.

“They expect you to do it for free because someone else did it for free,” you interjected, catching Changbin off guard. “Which is why I always tell people to never sell themselves short. Don’t do anything for free, especially if you’re good at it.” Changbin’s lips pulled into a half smile.

The conversation between the two of you dwindled as you both watched over the crowd until Changbin noticed you fanning yourself with your hand. “You alright?” Changbin asked, brow knitting together in concern. You forced a smile. “I’m just a little warm. There’s a lot of people here.”

Changbin tossed his empty container in the trash and stood up straight. “You wanna get some fresh air?” he asked and you stared back at him, contemplating your options. You could stay inside where it was really warm but where Joshua could see you or you could go outside with Changbin and cool off.

You hadn’t seen Joshua in a long while so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go outside. It’s not like you were with a total stranger. Changbin was friends with Chris and if both Lilah and Chris trusted him, then you had no reason not to trust him either.

“Sure,” you replied finally, standing up straight and downing the rest of your soda. Changbin took the empty can from you and tossed it before letting you lead the way to the backdoor, squeezing through the crowded kitchen, into the hallway before finally stepping out into the cool night air.

The backyard was a decent size, fenced in with a privacy fence. The deck was large, accommodating several partygoers and an eight person hot tub that was currently being used. You skipped down the steps, feet landing on the grass. In the corner to your right was a small garden, a large oak tree stood, a rope swing with a wooden seat hung from one of the sturdier branches.

Changbin followed as you walked over to the swing, taking a seat as he stood nearby.

“This is a really nice place,” you noted, looking around the backyard. Changbin nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m not sure whose place it is,” he added with a chuckle. “Chris and Minho dragged us here,” he continued, moving to stand behind you.

“Yeah, me neither,” you replied, chuckling when you felt him gently push you. “You gonna push me?” you asked as you swayed lightly on the swing. Changbin chuckled, grabbing the rope to stop your momentum. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Old habits.”

You glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you looked away. Changbin let go of the ropes and moved around to lean against the trunk of the tree. “So,” he started, hands in his pockets. “Is that one tea set still at the shop?” he asked.

You turned to look at him. “Which tea set?” you asked, cocking your head. “The kintsugi one,” he answered. You hesitated before answering. “Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s still there.” Changbin nodded silently. “Why do you ask?” you continued. Changbin fought the urge to smile.

“Jeongguk keeps talking about it. I think he really wants it but doesn’t want to admit it.”

You smiled, looking down at your knees. Changbin glanced down as well. He hadn’t said it earlier because he wasn’t sure if it was crossing a line but you looked really nice. The peach skirt with floral pattern complimented your skin and the cream colored flowy blouse looked good on your frame. Your makeup was subtle and different from almost any girl he normally associated with.

His eyes wandered of their own accord, moving down your legs to take in the shoes you wore. Beige colored mary jane style pumps with low heels completed the look and Changbin had to force himself to look away from your legs. If he stared any longer, you might think he was a creep.

“How many tattoos do you have?” you asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Uh,” he hesitated, counting in his head. “A lot,” he finally answered with a chuckle. “Where are they?” you asked, leaning your head against the rope. “Well,” Changbin said, standing up straighter. “I have them almost everywhere,” he answered. “Arms, legs, chest, back,” he continued.

“Do you have full sleeves?” you asked, looking up at him. Your question was genuine and full of curiosity. Something he didn’t expect from you. He nodded. “I do,” he answered. “From the shoulder down to my wrists and a few hand tattoos,” he added. “Which I’m sure you’ve seen by this point,” he added with a chuckle, showing the tops of his hands to you. With a smile, you nodded slowly. 

“And your chest?” you asked. “Oh, just one,” he said softly, raising his hand to place it over his chest tattoo. “A tiger,” he explained. 

A smile grew on your face. “I have plans to add more,” he added. “Jeongguk has the sketches on his tablet.” You smiled at him as he spoke. “Do you have any tattoos?” he asked suddenly and you laughed loudly. “Sorry,” you said as your laughter subsided. “No,” you continued, shaking your head.

“Lilah is the tattooed one.”

Changbin nodded slowly. “Have you ever thought about getting one?” he asked and again you shook your head. “No,” you repeated. “It’s never really interested me before,” you added. Changbin watched as you swayed gently on the swing. “Do tattoos bother you?” he asked, tilting his head.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “No,” he said softly. “They’re just tattoos,” you added. “Most people in this town are divided when it comes to them. Half the population has them and the other half doesn’t,” you explained. Changbin watched as you started to turn the swing, the rope twisting together above your head. “Some people think archaically,” you continued softly.

“They think people with tattoos are somehow inherently bad.”

Changbin snorted. He’d experienced his fair share of those kinds of people. “And what do you think?” he asked, watching as you lifted your feet and spun around on the swing. “I think tattoos are a lot like accessories only you can’t change them or take them off easily,” you started, putting a foot down to stop your momentum.

“They don’t change a person. You are who you are with or without them,” you continued. “It’s just art but instead of being on a canvas, your skin is the canvas.” Changbin stared at you with new found appreciation. You looked up to meet his gaze, a small smile gracing your features.

Changbin opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“Y/N?” a voice called, making both of you look towards the source.

Changbin watched as your boyfriend, Joshua, walked towards the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, looking from Changbin to you and back. “Everything is fine,” you said, smiling at him. “We’ve just been talking,” you added. Joshua’s gaze shifted to Changbin again.

“Is that right?” he heard Joshua murmur. Either you didn’t hear Joshua or chose to ignore it, the smile on your face not faltering. “I’m heading home,” Joshua announced. “Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. Changbin glanced at you as you got up from the swing.

You turned to face him. “Thank you for the talk,” you said, brushing off your skirt. Changbin nodded, smiling as you crossed the short distance where Joshua stood. “I’ll see you around,” you added, looking back over your shoulder at him. Changbin nodded. “See you around,” he said.

You took Joshua’s arm and allowed him to steer you towards the house as Changbin watched your figure disappear into the house. Jeongguk appeared moments later, jogging down the steps and walking over to where Changbin stood. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” he said.

Changbin shrugged. “You found me,” he joked. Jeongguk nodded, glancing back towards the house. “Were you out here with Y/N?” he asked, walking over and taking a seat on the swing. Changbin nodded silently. “Yeah,” he answered.

Jeongguk stared up at him, one of his brows raised. “It’s not like that,” Changbin said, rolling his eyes. “We were talking inside, she got hot so we came out here to cool off and get some fresh air.” Jeongguk nodded slowly, still giving Changbin a look. “Nothing happened,” Changbin clarified.

“Dude,” Jeongguk said, tattooed hands holding onto the rope. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

Changbin shrugged, gesturing wildly. “Nothing happened! We were talking!” Jeongguk nodded. “I know man. But you know how people are,” he replied. “They’re gonna talk. And you don’t want that kind of attention, trust me.” Changbin nodded, moving around behind Jeongguk and paused.

“You ready to go?” Jeongguk asked. “That Paxton chick was looking for you but I saw her making out with some dude in there like minutes before that.” Changbin nodded again, staring at Jeongguk’s back. “Yeah,” he said, pulling his hands from his pockets.

“I’m ready to go. I just need to do this first,” Changbin said. “Do what-YAH!”

Changbin pushed Jeongguk hard enough to cause him to slip off the wooden swing seat and onto the ground before he took off towards the house. “SEO CHANGBIN!” Jeongguk called as he clumsily got up and chased after him, Changbin giggling maniacally as he squeezed between the other partygoers.

“I’m heading out!” he called to Chris who looked up and nodded, waving at him with Lilah still perched on his lap. Changbin headed for the door as Jeongguk started to enter the kitchen. Changbin managed to make it out the front door and out onto the sidewalk as Jeongguk exited the house and made a beeline for him.

“Truce?” Changbin asked, backing away as his friend advanced on him. “Truce?!”

“No mercy,” Jeongguk said, trying to grab Changbin who managed to dodge and duck Jeongguk’s attempts before the older finally gave up. “You’re too small,” he whined as Changbin laughed, keeping pace with him as they walked away from the house.

“Too fast for you,” Changbin clarified. Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure,” he retorted.

“Too fast and short.”

Your walk with Joshua was mostly full of silence as you held onto his arm, thankful he matched your pace as you walked. The night was cool and the air crisp now that the sun had set. The sound of crickets still lingered as you walked through the mostly empty streets.

“So,” Joshua finally said, breaking the silence between you. “What were you doing outside with Changbin?” he asked. You looked at him, shrugging your shoulders. “We were just talking,” you answered. “We started talking inside the kitchen. He warned me that the punch bowl might have been spiked with something other than alcohol,” you added.

Joshua looked at you, eyes wide. “Really?” he asked. You nodded and continued to speak. “Yeah, so he gave me an unopened can of soda and then we went outside cause I was feeling a little warm. Too many bodies in one room,” you added. “And we just talked.”

“What did you talk about?” You looked up at Joshua again, trying to discern the look on his face. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuinely curious or if he was prying. Either way, you had nothing to hide from him. 

“We talked about his tattoos,” you answered. “He asked if I had any and I told him no. We also talked about art.” Joshua nodded as you walked, mulling over your words. “Art, huh?” he asked more to himself than to you. “You know, the last thing I want to do is make you feel like you’re a child incapable of making your own choices,” Joshua started and you suddenly felt as if you should have lied.

“But I don’t like the idea of you and him alone together,” he continued. You held back what you really wanted to say, choosing instead to smooth over it. “We weren’t alone,” you reminded him. “There were plenty of other people outside.”

Joshua looked at you as the two of you neared your apartment building. “A bunch of drunk people,” he said as you slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Joshua,” you started, letting go of his arm and turning to face him. “I was fine. Chris and Lilah trust Changbin and I trust them, so why shouldn’t I trust Changbin?” you asked.

Joshua sighed, taking both your hands in his and pulled you closer. “I’m just looking out for you,” he replied, placing your arms around his waist and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t trust any man alone with you,” he added.

“Don’t trust them,” you started, pulling back to look up at him. “Or don’t trust me?”

Joshua clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, taking your face in his hands. “I don’t trust them,” he replied. “I trust you fully,” he added, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Then,” you said as he pulled back. “Trust me to handle myself,” you continued.

“I’m not a damsel in distress that you have to save all the time,” you reminded him.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “After church?” he asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head. “I have to have dinner with my parents,” you explained. “I need to borrow one of their cars and the fee is dinner,” you added.

Joshua looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion.

“Why do you need to borrow one of their cars?” he asked. “I can take you anywhere you need to go, you know that,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I know,” you chuckled, taking one of his hands and pulling it away from your face. “But you work Monday,” you reminded him.

“What’s Monday?” he asked, cocking his head. “Mr. Serizawa asked me to go to the next town over and pick up Daniel,” you explained. “Lilah is going with me so I won’t be making the drive alone.” Joshua nodded and sighed. “I wish you’d told me sooner. I would have requested it off,” he replied.

You smiled at him. “It’s alright,” you responded, pulling his other hand from your cheek. “I’ll be okay,” you added. “I’m just going to the ferry station to pick him up and then coming straight back, but it will take most of the day,” you continued. “Besides, a little road trip with Lilah should be fun.”

Joshua smiled and nodded. “Well, I suppose it’ll be okay. I’ll see you when you get back then? We could grab dinner, maybe watch a movie at my place?” he said, holding onto your hand as you climbed one step. “Sure,” you said, looking back at him. “Perfect,” he replied.

“Get some sleep,” he said as you took another step. “Hey,” he called, gently tugging your hand and making you look at him. “I love you,” he said, stepping up onto the bottom step. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his, following his lead as his lips parted and his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“I love you, too,” you replied as you pulled back. “Get some sleep, babe,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and letting go of your hand as you climbed the rest of the steps. “Goodnight,” you called, looking back as you reached the door. “Night, babe,” he replied as you unlocked the door and entered the building.

You headed up the stairs to your door, unlocking and letting yourself into your apartment. Tomorrow you’d tackle your chores since Sunday you had church and Monday morning you’d be leaving to go pick up Daniel.

You dropped your purse on the counter and shrugged off your jacket, draping it over the back of one of the island barstools. You sat on the couch, bending over to remove your shoes and stood up to take them to the door, making sure the door was locked.

You headed to your bedroom, slowly stripping out of your clothes and changing into something more comfortable. You headed back into the kitchen to grab a snack as you had left work and gone straight to the party without eating dinner.

While you ate, you scrolled your social media feeds on your phone before finally turning off all the lights and settling down for bed, leaving your phone on the charger on your nightstand. It didn’t take long after climbing into bed for you to pass out.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

It had been a couple days since the party and you had gone to your parents’ house after church the following Sunday for dinner and to ask your father to borrow a car to pick up Daniel. You’d sat through the usual interrogation that occurred, asking about your job, your relationship, and somehow your parents managed to swing the conversation around to Lilah.

You did your best to answer the questions as vaguely as possible. After agreeing to spend the night at your mother’s request, the next morning, you headed out, stopping at your place before driving over to pick up Lilah.

As you pulled up to Lilah’s building, you slipped your phone out of your purse and typed out a quick message. You knew Lilah could sometimes take a moment to answer or even read her messages but as you looked up from your phone, you were surprised to see Lilah already walking towards you.

She waved as she got into view. You waved back, putting your phone in the holder on the dashboard as Lilah opened the door and got in. She smiled as he set her bag on the floorboard behind your seat and started to buckle her seatbelt as you put in the address for the ferry station.

“Hey,” Lilah said as the seatbelt clicked in place. “Hey,” you replied pressing the start button on your phone navigation. “How was dinner with your parents?” Lilah asked as you put the car in gear and pulled out of your parking space.

“It was… dinner with my parents,” you replied with a slight chuckle. “Did they grill you about your job again?” You nodded as you drove, following the road that led to the highway. “As usual,” you added. Lilah shook her head as she settled into her seat.

“And did they ask when you and Joshua are getting married?” You glanced at Lilah and your expression said everything. “Of course they did,” she scoffed as you continued to follow the signs for the highway. “Why do they always ask that? It’s not like you’re in a big rush to get married and settle down,” she added. “This isn’t the nineteen-fifties. You don’t need to be married with kids by the time you’re thirty.”

You hummed in agreement as you turned onto the highway and started to speed up to merge with traffic.

“You know how they are,” you replied. “I’m sure Joshua is getting the same treatment.”

Lilah snorted as she pulled out her phone and started fiddling with the bluetooth settings of the car.

“Yeah, well Joshua has always been a bit… old-fashioned.”

You glanced at your best friend as she focused on pairing her phone.

“And what does that make me?” you asked softly.

Lilah didn’t look up as her phone connected and she started playing her music. “You know how I feel about your relationship with Josh,” she said softly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. You sighed softly as you changed lanes to go around a van crawling ahead of you. “I know,” you replied.

An awkward silence settled between you as Lilah turned the music up a bit.

She had always made her thoughts about Joshua known, especially after she and Seungcheol split and now that Joshua was starting to show more controlling tendencies. You understood and appreciated her concern but you knew you could handle your boyfriend when it came down to it.

“So,” you finally said, wanting to change the subject. “Tell me about this new tattoo you’re getting.”

It seemed to be the right call on your part, asking Lilah about tattoos always put her in a much better mood. She started off showing you pictures of the inspiration of the tattoo she was getting. She explained the details, even the minute ones. She finally showed you a drawing of the final design and explained the colors and shading that would be used.

“It sounds really cool,” you said as she put her phone back in the console. “I love the flowers.”

Lilah’s smile widened. “You wanna go with me to my appointment?” It wasn’t uncommon for Lilah to ask this and more than once you’d gone with her to get piercings but you’d never been to one of her tattoo appointments. “When is it?”

“Wednesday,” she replied, watching you as you contemplated. “I’m not off until six on Wednesday,” you explained. Lilah nodded. “It’s at seven,” she offered, hoping it might sway your decision. “It’ll take a few hours but you’re off on Thursdays,” she continued.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch as a smirk threatened to spread across your face. “I didn’t realize you had my schedule memorized,” you replied to which Lilah let out a laugh. “You’re my best friend,” she started as the song on the stereo changed. “Of course I know your schedule.”

You grimaced but said nothing. You thought about the conversation you’d had with Joshua the night of the party. He didn’t trust Changbin to be around you alone so surely being surrounded by people at the tattoo shop was fine.

Then again, you suspected it was really you Joshua didn’t trust though you couldn’t fathom why. You’d never so much as thought about another man since you started dating him. You’d never entertained the thought of cheating nor would you ever.

You were loyal.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Lilah’s voice snapped you out of it. You blinked rapidly and looked over at her quickly. “Sorry,” you replied. “What did you say?”

Lilah settled back against her seat. “I asked if you want to go with me to my appointment after you get off work,” she repeated. You nibbled on your bottom lip, checking your mirrors before changing lanes to go around yet another slow moving vehicle.

“Fine,” you finally answered, switching back into the lane in front of the truck. “I’ll go with you but I’m not getting anything and I expect you to respect that,” you added. Lilah nodded excitedly. “I’m just glad you’re going with me!” she said, grabbing her phone and changing the music.

“For moral support,” you explained. “That’s all.”

The first hour of the trip was spent listening to music, chatting. Lilah told you about the progress of her situation with Chris, keeping you up-to-date on all the juicy gossip among her friend group. You didn’t care much for gossip but you knew Lilah and how much she loved it so you let her carry on.

“Which reminds me,” she said as she finished telling you about Ari’s mishap at the party where she fell going up the steps with Minho. “Where did you go?” she asked. You glanced at her before looking back at the road. “When?” you asked.

“During the party,” Lilah asked. “Ari and Minho went upstairs to hook up in one of the many rooms,” she stated. “Hana spent the whole night outside in the hot tub, Paxton says she hooked up with Changbin--” you snorted, drawing her attention. “What?” she asked.

You glanced at her and then back at the road, fighting the urge to laugh. “She’s lying,” you replied.

Lilah eyed you suspiciously. “How do you know?” she asked. “I mean, I did see her making out with a guy that looked an awful lot like him,” she said, watching as you burst into laughter. “When does she say this hook up occurred?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably around the time you disappeared.” You laughed again.

“She may have hooked up with a guy,” you said as you kept your eyes on the road. “But it certainly wasn’t Changbin,” you added. Lilah narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?” she asked. “Cause he was with me outside,” you replied.

Lilah’s jaw dropped.” You got in the hot tub in your skivvies and didn’t tell me?!” she yelled. You looked at her incredulously. “Okay first of all, never say skivvies again,” you started, laughing. “And second, no,” you continued. “Changbin stopped me from drinking the punch and gave me a can of soda and we started talking.”

Lilah watched you as you continued to explain. “And then I got warm inside the kitchen so we went outside to get some fresh air and continued our talk. We were over by the garden. And then Joshua came up and I left with him,” you explained.

“Changbin was with you the whole time?” Lilah asked and you nodded. “So unless he went back in and hooked up with her after, which I doubt because he told me he doesn’t even really like her, she’s either lying or she doesn’t remember who she really hooked up with.”

Lilah let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Changbin told you he doesn’t like her?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah. He said he also doesn’t really like Hana,” you continued. Lilah sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Is there anyone he does like?” she wondered and you shrugged.

“Maybe stop trying to set him up with your friends and let him do his own thing?” you asked and Lilah clicked her tongue. “That’s no fun,” she pouted, crossing her arms before she gasped. “What?” you asked, looking around. “I have an amazing idea!” she said, bouncing in her seat.

You groaned. “I thought you saw something,” you whined. “Don’t do that gasping thing when I’m driving!” Lilah grimaced. “Sorry, but wait until you hear this idea!” she said, sitting forward. “I have the perfect match for Changbin!”

You turned to look at her. “We just talked about this Lilah!” you admonished. “Leave the poor man be!” Lilah shook her head. “I can’t. This pairing is just too perfect!” she said, pulling her phone out and scrolling through it. “I know this girl. I think she’d be perfect for him.”

You sighed as you continued to drive. ‘Poor Changbin.’

The next two hours were spent listening to music until you stopped at a small town to get coffee and something to eat now that you were both more awake and hungry. “Look at her,” Lilah said, showing you a picture of a really pretty girl with a pale complexion. She had split colored hair, half blonde and the other half black. 

In the picture her hair was curled in soft waves reaching her shoulders, half of it pulled up into a high ponytail with strands framing her face. She had makeup similar to the style Lilah wore, graphic liner, heavy blush on her cheeks and nose, highlighter, false lashes, but she differed in that she wore nude pink lip colors.

She was covered in ink, tattoos decorating her chest, shoulders, and arms. She had multiple nose piercings, an upper lip piercing, stretched ears and multiple cartilage piercings. She had a slim waist with curves. 

She wore a high waisted black pleated skirt with black fishnets and combat boots. The shirt was black with white stripes and a tiny green alien peeking out of a small pocket on the chest tucked into the skirt. Half her curled hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, strands falling and framing her face.

“She’s pretty,” you noted with a nod. Lilah swiped to another picture. “She’s an instagram model too,” she explained, showing you the next picture. It was of the same girl kneeling on a bed, wearing a high waisted black thong with lace and a cropped shirt with a Mario star on it. She had extensions in her hair, part of it pulled up into twintails, the rest cascading in waves.

She wore a pink headset with kitty ears, white thigh highs with pink bows and in her hands was a gaming controller. You said nothing, instead nodding as you waited for your food to be ready. “She’s really cool,” Lilah said, fawning over her phone.

You watched as she scrolled a bit more and showed you a few more pictures before asking for your opinion. “Do you think he’d like her?” she asked. You looked at your best friend. “Why are you asking me?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I thought maybe since he told you what he didn’t like, he might have told you what he does like.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Most certainly not,” you replied. Lilah sighed, returning her attention to her phone. “I’ll ask her if she’s interested anyway.” You said nothing again, instead focusing on the barista as she bagged up your food and grabbed your coffees. 

Back in the car, you ate your sandwich quickly while Lilah fiddled with her phone, exchanging messages. “She’s interested!” she said excitedly. “She wants me to send a picture of Changbin. Should I just take one from his insta?” she asked, looking up at you.

You shrugged, wanting to stay out of it. “Do you have any pictures of him on your phone?” you asked. Lilah stared at you unblinkingly. “Why would I have pictures of him on my phone?” she asked. You shrugged again. Lilah fiddled with her phone. “I think Chris follows him,” she murmured, searching through Chris’ follow list.

You started the engine and pulled out of your parking space, pulling onto the road and making your way back to the highway as Lilah searched for Changbin’s account. “Shit, it’s private,” she hissed. “And that’s bad?” you asked as Lilah grabbed your phone, unlocking it with your passcode.

“How do you know my passcode?” you asked incredulously. “It’s not like it’s a secret,” she said, looking up at you. “It’s your dead dog’s birthday,” she reminded you. “Isn’t yours Chris’ birthday?” you asked, eyeing her. She stuck her tongue out at you as she pulled up instagram, going into the search bar.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to keep your eyes on the road and on her at the same time. “I’m gonna follow him from your account,” she said nonchalantly. “What?” you shouted, reaching for your phone. “Hey, hey!” she shouted, shielding your phone from you.

“Eyes on the road, maniac!” she added, pointing at the road. “Why can’t you follow him from your account?” you asked angrily. “You follow his tattoo page, don’t you? And you follow the shop!” Lilah ignored you, typing in Changbin’s name. “I don’t follow either!” you added.

“I know,” she said softly. “That’s why I’m making you follow them all right now,” she added with a mischievous grin. You tried to snatch your phone again only for her to pull away. “You’ll crash if you keep doing that,” she retorted.

You checked the mirrors before pulling over and parking the car.

“What are you--”

You reached over and snatched your phone, looking at the screen. “You’re literally insane,” you said as you made sure she wasn’t able to follow any of the accounts through your phone before opening your settings and changing your passcode, shielding the screen from her.

“Y/N!” Lilah pouted as you locked your phone and set it in the console. “Use your own account,” you replied, putting the car back in drive and slowly pulling forward to pull back onto the highway. Lilah grumbled as she grabbed her phone and tapped away on the screen.

The next couple hours went by without issue, mostly listening to music as Lilah texted back and forth with a few people. “He followed me back,” Lilah announced as you followed the signs for the ferry station. You were getting close to the coastal town. “He doesn’t have many pictures on here,” she said as she scrolled. “Which one should I send?” she asked as you got off the highway and came to a stop at the light.

You glanced at the phone and she showed two different pictures.

The first looked more recent. It looked as though he’d just woken up, his hair was messy and curly. ‘Is that what his hair naturally looks like?’ you wondered silently. His tattoos were visible and he was wearing his signature fitted black tee shirt.

The other picture was older. His hair was a completely different color. It almost didn’t look like him. His hair was styled and he wore a black suit with a red tie. He looked amazing. His hand tattoos were missing and you wondered how old the photo was.

“The first one,” you answered. “It looks more recent,” you added. Lilah nodded, looking back down as she took a screenshot of the picture and you waited for the light to change. The drive through the sleepy seaside town was quiet, most people were at work or school as you drove, winding down the side of the mountain. In the distance you could see the ocean, waves crashing into the sandy beach.

You pulled into the ferry station parking lot with some time to kill and parked the car. “Let’s go get some pictures,” Lilah said excitedly. You grabbed your jacket from the backseat and got out, locking the doors and pulling on your jacket as Lilah pulled her hood up over her head and shoved her hands in her pockets. You followed behind her, checking the time on your phone before pocketing the device and rushing to catch up with your best friend.

The look out over the ocean gave a spectacular view and you could see an island not far from shore. “You want to go down to the shore?” Lilah asked over the wind. You nodded and followed her down the steps leading to the shore. The sand was unlike what you expected. Less like sand and more like stones. Pebbles. You were glad you chose to wear sneakers and were sure Lilah was faring just as well in her boots. “Look!” Lilah called, hurrying over to a spot and kneeling down.

You followed her and leaned over her back as she unearthed a rather large piece of sea glass. “Whoa,” you said as she lifted it to reveal another piece under it. You reached down, grabbing the second piece, revealing yet another piece of sea glass.

“It’s like a rabbit hole,” you murmured, picking up the other piece. “These are so cool,” Lilah said, looking over the piece in her hands. You looked down at it. She held a black piece with tiny white flecks from who knows how many years spent in the sea water.

It was shaped like a shark fin, smooth and rounded at all three points and flat. “I wonder what this is,” Lilah said, flipping it over to look at the other side. “It’s glass,” you pointed out. Lilah looked up at the pieces in your hands. A bright pink and a deep purple, both frosted like hers.

“What kind of glass is black?” she asked, looking back down at hers. You held out your hand, lifting to inspect the glass she placed in your palm. “It’s probably from a really old bottle,” you started, handing her the pink and purple to inspect.

You held the black up towards the sky, tilting and turning it. “It’s green,” you stated. “Along the edges, it’s hard to see without the light,” you explained. “It’s probably from really old beer or gin bottles,” you added, handing it back to her, taking the pink and purple from her.

“What about those?” Lilah asked, nodding at your hands. “The pink is probably from the Great Depression era,” you noted. “Pink glassware was common during that time period because it was decorative but extremely cheap,” you explained, looking at the pink piece.

“The purple,” you began, shifting your gaze to it. It was a deep rich purple color, frosted just like the others due to exposure and time spent in the ocean. “Probably came from purple glass. Between 1840 and 1880, hair tonics were commonly sold in amethyst bottles,” you explained, turning the piece over. “But it could very well be glass made with manganese.”

Lilah stared at you as you looked over the glass. “What’s that?” she asked. “Venetian glassmakers discovered they could neutralize the color caused by imperfections in glass by adding manganese to the sand and create clear glass,” you explained, handing over the purple piece.

“But over time, the glass will turn purple when exposed to ultraviolet rays,” you continued, looking down at the ground, searching for more glass. “I’ve heard sea glass glows under a black light,” Lilah said, looking up to watch you explore. “Is that true?” she asked.

You shook your head, pushing some pebbles aside and unearthing another black piece of sea glass. “No,” you replied. “Uranium glass glows under black light,” you replied, digging out the piece and holding it up. ‘More green edges,’ you noted.

“Uranium glass has uranium added to the glass before melting,” you explained. “It produces green glass that then glows under a black light,” you continued. “That’s so cool,” Lilah said as she watched you dig in the pebbles. “How do you know all this?” she asked.

“We’ve gotten a lot of different glass types in the shop,” you said, looking up. “Including an entire tea set made from uranium glass,” you added. You managed to find a few more pieces of sea glass ranging from blue to clear but no more purple or pink.

You stood up, brushing your hands off as a horn sounded in the distance and both you and Lilah turned to see the ferry in the distance. “Let’s go,” you said softly, leading the way back to the steps. You and Lilah had found a decent amount of sea glass and pocketed it to take back home.

Back up at the station, you and Lilah huddled close to the building to avoid the wind that had picked up. “Fuck! I should have worn sweat,” you cursed and Lilah laughed, huddling closer. “Would they hurry up and disembark already?” she snapped.

Finally it seemed like the wait was over and the gates opened, passengers making their way off the boat. This early in the morning you didn’t expect so many passengers but it sort of made sense. People making the earliest commute possible.

You spotted Daniel and waved, calling out to him. He spotted you and a smile spread across his face, weaving through the other passengers until he reached you, pulling you into a hug. He’d grown taller, nearing almost six feet. “Jii-chan said you were coming so I was really excited to see you,” he said as he let you go. “You got taller,” you noted, making him laugh.

He turned, noticing Lilah. “Lilah?” he asked, almost shocked to see her. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he added, pulling her into a hug as well. “Y/N asked me to keep her company on the drive out here,” she replied. “And she annoyed me the whole way here,” you added, dodging Lilah’s attempt to slap your arm. 

Daniel was amused by your antics as he followed you two back to the car, listening and laughing as you bickered back and forth. Once his luggage was put in the trunk and the three of you inside, strapped in, you put the car in drive and pulled carefully out of the parking lot.

You asked Daniel about his time in Busan and Jeju.

“It was amazing!” he said excitedly. “We went to the aquarium in Busan and hung out on the beach most of the time,” he explained, going into further detail, describing the beach. “And then in Jeju, we went to their aquarium and we also went hiking. So much hiking!”

You smiled as he went on. “And then, since we finished our itinerary early, we took the ferry to Japan,” he continued. You nodded, glancing up in the mirror at him. “That would explain why your grandfather asked me to pick you up at the ferry station and not the airport or bus station,” you mused.

“Tell me about Japan,” Lilah said, turning in her seat to look at Daniel.

You listened to him tell his stories of Fukuoka and the surrounding areas. He talked about the food, what the group did, and even showed pictures on his phone of him and his friends.

“It sounds like you had a really good time,” you said after listening to him go on for almost an hour. He nodded as Lilah took his phone to look at a photo of him and his friends. She swiped to the next photo and let out a yell. Daniel noticed and tried to grab his phone but Lilah held it out of his reach.

“Who is this?” she asked, looking at a picture of just Daniel and a girl. She showed you. It was very pretty girl you recognized him meeting with for study sessions. “Is that Kari?” you asked, taking your eyes off the road briefly to get a better look.

“Give it back,” Daniel protested, trying to grab his phone from Lilah. “She’s cute!” Lilah remarked as she swiped through a few more photos of Daniel and Kari. “Will you stop it!” Daniel grumbled, fighting to regain control of his phone but Lilah swiped again and gasped.

“What?” you asked, glancing between her and the road. She showed you the phone and it was a picture of the two, Daniel was taking the photo and Kari had her head turned kissing his cheek. “Daniel!” you said, sounding scandalized. He groaned, leaning back in his seat and pulled his beanie down over his face.

“Dannie’s got a girlfriend!” Lilah said in a singsong voice as she looked at more photos. Daniel groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry, Dannie,” you said, making him peek out from under his hat. “I won’t tell your grandparents.”

He sat up, readjusting his beanie and waited, watching Lilah before he made his move, snatching his phone back. “Yah! I was looking at pictures of you and your girlfriend,” she whined. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he clarified. “We haven’t even been on a date.”

“Then change that,” Lilah said, turning to look back at him. “Ask her out. Go to the bowling alley or something else. Something you kids find fun these days.” You glanced at her. “You kids?” you asked her and she shrugged. “He’s in high school,” you added. “He’s not twelve.”

“Take her to the fall festival,” you suggested. “That’s coming up soon.” Daniel shook his head, not looking up. “I can’t ask her out,” he murmured. “And why the hell not?” Lilah asked, turning to look back at him. “Because,” Daniel said softly. “You saw her,” he added. “She’s gorgeous.”

Lilah scoffed and you snapped your fingers. “Look up,” you said. “Look at me Daniel.”

He looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Don’t do that to yourself. You are an extremely intelligent, funny, and good looking guy. Kari would be an idiot to say no to you,” you said in a firm but gentle tone. “And if she says no, I’ll kick her butt,” Lilah added. “She’s a minor,” you said incredulously. “You can’t beat up a minor, Lilah!”

Daniel smiled as the two of you bickered. “Thanks, you two,” he said softly.

The next hour passed quickly as Daniel told Lilah more about Japan and what Fukuoka was like. You listened, keeping your eyes on the road as you drove. Another hour in, you glanced down at the gas gauge and sighed. “I gotta make a stop,” you announced, pulling off the highway at the next exit.

“We’re running low on gas.”

Daniel and Lilah continued to chat as you filled up, both of them heading into the convenience store. While the pump worked, you pulled out your phone, checking your notifications. You had a couple texts from Joshua, asking how the trip was going.

You texted him back before noticing another notification from Instagram. You had a new follower and opened the app. Your eyes widened as you read the username, tapping on the profile and your lips parted in a soft gasp. Changbin had found and followed your account.

Your thumb hovered over the follow back button before tapping it quickly as Lilah and Daniel headed back to the car. You pocketed your phone as the pump switched off and took the nozzle out of the tank, placing it back in the cradle.

Getting back in the car, you set your phone in the console, buckling your seatbelt and Lilah and Daniel divided up their snack haul. “We got you something to drink and some snacks as well,” Daniel said as he pulled a bottle of soda out of the bag and set it in one of the cup holders.

“Thanks,” you said softly as you started the engine and pulled out of the gas station parking lot, following the signs to get back on the highway.

As you drove, you tuned out Lilah and Daniel’s conversation, instead mulling over the notification you’d gotten from Instagram about Changbin’s personal account. How did he find you? Had Lilah gotten through before you grabbed your phone?

You glanced over at your best friend, meeting her gaze. “What?” she asked softly.

You shook your head and looked straight ahead. “What?” Lilah asked again. It took a couple more minutes for Lilah to pry it out of you.

“Did you like one of Changbin’s pictures on my account or something earlier?” you asked softly. Lilah’s confused expression morphed into one of excitement. “No,” she answered. “Why? Did he follow you?” she asked excitedly. You narrowed your eyes, glaring at her.

“What did you do?” you hissed, not noticing how Daniel leaned forward between the two of you.

“Who is Changbin?” he asked suddenly, making both you and Lilah jump. You glanced at his curious expression. “No one,” you said quickly, hoping Lilah would drop the subject but when you looked at her, a mischievous grin had taken up residence on her face.

“Don’t,” you warned her. “I just want to know why he followed me.”

Lilah laughed excitedly, grabbing your phone. “What did you change your passcode to?” she asked as she stared at the screen. “It’s none of your damn business,” you retorted, snatching your phone from her hands only for her to pout at you.

“I just need screenshots of his pictures to send to Riley,” she grumbled as you set your phone in the pocket on the driver’s side door, far from her reach. “I told you,” you replied as you continued to drive. “Follow him from your own account.”

“And what would Chris think?” Lilah asked, crossing her arms. “Uh, that’s you’re following your tattoo artist on instagram who you also happen to be friends with?” you offered. Lilah scoffed. “You’re no fun,” she mumbled as she sank down in her seat.

“Is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Daniel asked, making you and Lilah glance back at him. You’d partially forgotten he was there as you and Lilah bickered about Changbin and his instagram account. “Who is Changbin?”

Lilah turned to look back at him, turning in her seat. “He’s new to Sejong,” Lilah explained. “He just moved here and opened a tattoo shop on Market,” she continued. “And why are you following his instagram from Y/N’s account?” Daniel asked slowly.

“Because I need pictures of him to send to this girl I know who is interested in him!”

You sighed as you followed the signs for Sejong. “Despite the fact that he didn’t like either girl you threw at him before,” you interjected. “Changbin isn’t a wall that you throw girls at like pasta and expect them to stick. Let the poor guy settle into Sejong, let him figure things out for himself.”

Lilah’s lips curled up into a devious smirk. “You like him, don’t you?” she asked. Your eyes widened and you turned to look back at her. “What?” you asked incredulously. “I knew it!” Lilah said excitedly, sitting up quickly. “You like him!” Daniel looked between you and Lilah quickly, eyes wide.

“Lilah,” you said sternly. “I have a boyfriend.” Lilah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, a shit one,” she murmured. You reached out, smacking her arm. “Ow!” she exclaimed, holding the spot you hit. “Don’t start that shit again,” you snapped. “Joshua isn’t perfect,” you continued. “None of us are.”

You stared at her pointedly. Lilah conceded and sunk back into her seat. “Fine,” she groaned. “So, this Changbin guy,” Daniel asked, leaning forward, breaking the tension. “What kind of ink does he do?”

The rest of the ride, Lilah showed Daniel pictures on Changbin’s professional instagram, showing off his previous work and explaining the tattoo she commissioned from him. You listened as you drove. The sun had started to set as you reached the outskirts of Sejong, driving through town and heading for the Serizawa’s house. Daniel had wanted to come back and stay a few days with his grandparents before moving back into the apartment above the shop.

“Thank you so much again,” Daniel said as he leaned down to peer into your window, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “It was good to see you, Lilah,” he added. Your best friend leaned forward, smiling at him. “You too, Danny,” she replied. Daniel turned his attention back to you.

“I’ll see you at the shop,” he said and you nodded. “See you later,” you replied as he waved and headed for the front door of his grandparents’ house. You waited, watching to make sure he made it in safely before driving off and making your way to Lilah’s building. The ride was silent as you followed the memorized route.

“I’m sorry,” Lilah said, her soft voice punctuating the silence. “For what I said about Josh,” she clarified. “I know I should stay out of it,” she continued. “But I can’t help it. Not when I see how he treats you from the outside.” You pulled to a stop outside her building.

“He’s too controlling,” she added. “I know you care about me,” you started, turning to look at her. “But please trust me when I say I can handle it. I know how to handle my boyfriend,” you added. “If I need help, you will be the first to know.” Lilah nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning over the center console to pull you into a tight hug.

“You’re still coming to my tattoo appointment, right?” she asked as she pulled back, making sure to grab her bag and things from the cupholders. You nodded. “Of course,” you replied as she opened the door and got out, leaning over to look at you through the open window. “You promise?” she asked.

You nodded again with a smile.

“I promise.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Wednesday came much faster than you were expecting. Lilah had asked the days leading up to the appointment if you were still going with her and you kept reassuring her you’d go. It wasn’t like you hadn’t attended her appointments before, you had. So why she was so adamant about you attending this one was lost on you. Until you showed up to White Lotus Studio.

Lilah had insisted on you meeting her at the shop instead of going there together. You didn’t really question it since you only had an hour after getting off work to go home, change and meet her. You didn’t really need to change but you preferred to.

The walk to the shop didn’t take long and soon you were walking up to the door, stepping aside as a couple of patrons exited, chatting excitedly about whatever work they’d gotten done. Lilah was seated inside on one of the black armchairs you’d sold Changbin as you crossed the threshold into the building. It seemed to be a busy day, each station was occupied.

Minho was sitting on a black stool, working on the leg of a man you’d seen briefly at some of the parties Lilah brought you to. In the same space, Chris was explaining jewelry options to a girl who was getting her ears pierced for the first time, her friends crowded around her but staring at Chris instead of the jewelry.

You walked over to Lilah who was talking to Hana and looked up in time to catch a glimpse of Changbin through a glass window. He was talking to a client, no doubt explaining something related to the tattoo he’d just done as he wrapped it. Your eyes lingered a moment longer as you really studied him.

You’d only ever seen him outside the studio in social settings. Parties, the club, and your work. You never saw him in his own element before. He looked much more confident in this setting.

You tore your gaze away before he caught you staring and smiled as you moved to sit on the ottoman across from Lilah. Your best friend smiled widely, leaning forward to pull you into an awkward hug. “You made it!” she said happily. You chuckled as she let go and nodded. “I said I would,” you replied.

You turned to Hana, nodding politely. Hana returned the gesture and then went back to her phone, thumbs tapping on the screen. You took the lapse in conversation to look around the shop. It was a completely different space from what you remembered. The walls were mostly an off-white color except for a bump out that was painted entirely black with a massive tiger painted.

The decal was impressive and looked imposing and intimidating, as if the tiger was leaping from the wall. Whoever had painted it was incredibly talented. Behind Lilah was a counter, behind which Paxton stood. She threw a dirty look your way but you ignored it. You were here for Lilah and if Paxton didn’t like it, that wasn’t your fault.

The front of the counter was glass, showing off a vast array of jewelry for all types of piercings. Bright lights mounted to the underside of the counter top made the gems in some of the pieces sparkle. You looked away at the black velvet sofa. You wondered where Changbin had gotten it as it was almost a perfect match to the armchairs. 

Behind the sofa, on the same wall as the tiger bump out, large rectangular planters stood behind the sofa, dark bamboo stood against the wall in contrast with the paint.

You looked towards the front of the shop, a low console table, also painted black with a matte finish and glass surface, stood under the large box window with books sitting atop the surface. The box window had a small collection of decorations in it, a few small statues of buddha, a dragon perched atop its treasure hoard, a golden lucky cat waving at anyone who passed by.

The rooms were separated by half walls with large glass windows, the doorways were open square arches. The walls inside each room were different in the decor and decals. In the room Minho and Chris were working, a dragon decal had been painted in the center of the wall, lined up with the door. A neon sign, green in color, hung on the wall next to the dragon displaying the name of a brewery in town.

There was a backlit shadow box with comic strips framed and spaced evenly from top to bottom.

You looked away from the room, taking note of the light wood floor with pale ashy tones, the black and gray ornamental rug that filled the lobby area was stunning and the patterns very intricate. You wondered if Changbin knew about the history of the rug and if so, you’d love to hear about it.

Changbin had gotten so used to the sound of the bell that he almost didn’t hear it anymore, especially when he was in the middle of an appointment with a client but whenever the tattoo gun wasn’t in his hand, he paid more attention.

Looking up as the bell rang, he saw two patrons leaving, both having been serviced by Chris. Changbin was about to return his gaze to the client who was currently counting bills when his heart skipped a beat. You had just walked in, politely bowing to the clients who were leaving.

It had been several days since Changbin had last seen you at the house party Chris and Minho had invited him and Jeongguk to. You looked just as radiant as ever. You wore a light pink jacket over a flowy cream colored dress where the hem fell just above your knees.

The tights you wore with the ensemble were nude with a swirly floral pattern. You’d paired the look with black suede pumps with straps which brought out the black details of the dress. A thin black ribbon tie at the high neck, black buttons that went up the front of the bust. It was a simple look but you made it look anything but simple. Every time Changbin saw you, somehow you always managed to look so well put together. It was clear you spent a lot of time picking out your outfits and planning things.

From your outfit to your makeup and hair. It was a huge contrast to your best friend who Changbin had noticed was wearing high waisted black cut-off jean shorts, a black tank tucked in and a black oversized cardigan. She wore black combat boots much like Changbin and it never managed to surprise him how different the two of you were.

Like night and day.

Changbin smiled as his client handed him a wad of cash, thanking him for the newest work on his calf before exiting. Changbin quickly counted the money, moving over to the counter and opening the top drawer where he kept his built-in safe, carefully putting in the code and opening the door. He separated a few of the larger bills before adding the cash to the safe, closing it up and tucking the rest in his wallet.

He went about cleaning up his station to set up for the next appointment, trying not to look out the window where he could only see the top of your head. He could faintly hear you talking to Lilah but couldn’t make out what the two of you were talking about.

He picked up the spray bottle on the counter and gave the chair a few sprays, quickly wiping the surface down. He moved about his station, opening and closing drawers and cabinets as he gathered the supplies he would need for Lilah’s tattoo. Once he had the basics, he exited the room, popping over to Jeongguk’s station to check on his progress.

He then left the room and walked into the lobby. He noticed how you were looking around, no doubt inspecting his choice in decor. He suddenly felt self-conscious. How would you perceive him through his design choices? Were you impressed or underwhelmed?

He shook his head, and walked over to where you and Lilah sat. “You ready?” he asked, taking note how you didn’t seem to hear him as he spoke to your best friend. She nodded and Changbin beckoned her to follow him.

As you were lost in your thoughts, staring at the rug, Lilah stood up and snapped you out of your thoughts. “Come on, spacey,” she joked and you got up, following her back and into the room. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized Changbin was the only artist in the room. It then dawned on you that Changbin was going to be doing her tattoo.

Lilah hopped up on the chair and pulled out her phone, connecting her head phones to the device and leaving one ear free. “Just the line work today, right?” Changbin asked as you stood awkwardly by the doorway. Your eyes raked over his form, taking in his outfit of the day.

He was wearing another fitted black tee tucked into black cargo pants with the cuffs of his pants tucked into his signature black combat boots. His hair had been straightened and styled, showing his forehead. He had a simple silver chain around his neck. It seemed that this was kind of his go to outfit.

Changbin turned slightly to glance your way before chuckling to himself. “You know you can sit down, right?” he asked, nodding at the chair near the chair Lilah was sitting on. You murmured a thanks and walked over to the chair, removing your jacket and sitting down

You glanced around the room, taking in the features. Changbin’s station was the only one in the room. The same floor ran through this room as the rest of the shop. The walls were the same off white with a custom made neon sign in the shape of a lotus hanging above the counter top that ran the length of the wall opposite the doorway.

The countertop was black quartz, the cabinets below the same off white as the walls with gold hardware. The chair Lilah sat on was a bright red leather with an adjustable headrest, arm rests, foot rest and heavy circular base. The entire chair looked fully adjustable and quite comfortable.

Changbin was looking over supplies sitting on a silver rolling tray. Various tools and equipment sat before him. He had a few small ink pods waiting to be used. You continued to scan the items, noticing he had two pairs of black gloves. ‘Two pairs?’ you wondered to yourself.

A stool, at least you thought it was a stool, sat near him. It looked like a small chair with a back and arm rests but the arm rests were backwards, sticking out from either side of the back of the stool. You looked away from the equipment to the artists as Changbin moved over to the counter and opened a drawer, grabbing a small clear bag of black rubber bands and shutting the drawer before he walked back over to Lilah. 

“If we can knock out the shading this time too, that’ll save you another session,” he said softly as he looked up. Lilah glanced over at you. “Do you mind if we stay a little longer?” she asked. Changbin turned to look at you as well. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly. “It’s your appointment,” you added with a smile towards your friend.

She beamed and nodded as Changbin turned away. “Alright,” he said moving to the side of the chair and you watched as he pushed a button and the leg rest started to raise, splitting in half. “Is the headrest in a good spot?” he asked as he finished raising the leg rest. Lilah nodded and scooted back into the seat and got comfortable. Changbin moved back over to the tray, using his toe to pull the stool closer.

You watched as he sat on it, the backrest in front of him. “You can move closer,” he commented towards you as he grabbed a glove and pulled it on before putting the other on. You realized your chair had wheels and you slowly scooted forward, moving closer to Lilah as Changbin prepared the tattoo gun.

You didn’t pay much attention to the process as it looked extremely complicated but it was still fascinating to watch. Changbin rolled closer, bringing his tray with him. You watched as he prepped Lilah’s skin, wiping the area with a cotton pad and taking a brand new disposable razor.

You watched with rapt attention as he prepared the area, shaving any hair and wiped the skin again. Once he was ready, Changbin grabbed the stencil he’d prepared and placed it on Lilah’s thigh. He pressed it firmly against her skin, making sure it stuck before peeling the paper away.

“Check the placement,” he said softly, waiting patiently as Lilah hopped up and walked over to the mirror to check it out. “Perfect,” she said excitedly, returning to the chair. Changbin nodded and moved into position. Once he got started, you watched him work.

He didn’t speak much as he worked, focusing instead on tracing the lines of the stencil. You’d been to a few of Lilah’s appointments before but most of the tattoos you’d witness her get were smaller. This was the largest piece you’d seen her get.

It was a large lion’s head, mouth open in a silent roar. You continued to watch silently as Changbin worked, finding the constant hum of the tattoo gun comforting. You glanced up to see Lilah had her eyes shut, mouthing to lyrics to whatever song she was listening to.

The song playing over the speaker of the shop’s intercom was a familiar one, you’d heard Lilah play from her playlist before. It was a heavy rock piece with a lot of drumming. It wasn’t your favorite kind of music but you didn’t mind it. You watched the tattoo take shape slowly, watching the way Changbin worked slowly but diligently. He clearly didn’t like to rush things, something you could appreciate.

After he’d managed to get half of the lines done, you looked up, hearing footsteps behind you. You turned back to Changbin. “Do you mind if I look around?” you asked softly. He glanced up briefly before shaking his head. “Just don’t get in anyone’s way,” he said with a slight smile.

You got up, leaving your jacket and purse in the chair and headed out of the doorway. Across from the room Changbin was set up in was a larger room with two stations in it. The one near the door was empty but the other station had Jeongguk, sitting in a similar stool as Changbin. He was working on an arm tattoo. The client was a young woman, maybe around Lilah’s age.

Her arm was resting on what you assumed was a separate arm rest, inside of the forearm exposed as Jeongguk colored in the line work of a tattoo you assumed he previously had done. His style was much different than Changbin’s but the tattoo was still just as intricate and beautiful.

It was an hourglass design inside a compass. You apologized softly when Jeongguk glanced at you. “I’m just curious to see what everyone else is doing,” you added. Jeongguk smiled and shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he replied. “I don’t mind spectators,” he added with a chuckle.

After watching a couple more minutes, you left the room and peeked in to see the progress of Lilah’s tattoo. Changbin had almost completely finished the lines. You decided to check the other room. Paxton was no longer behind the counter and was instead coming back from the back of the shop.

You turned to look into the room Minho and Chris were in. Minho was still working on the same tattoo as before while Chris now had Hana in his seat. You leaned against the frame, offering a polite smile to Hana who surprisingly returned it. Chris glanced back and smiled widely.

“Lilah still getting her piece done?” he asked to which you nodded. “I’m just looking around. The boss said I could,” you added with an amused tone. Minho glanced up before going back to his work. You walked over, making sure to stay a reasonable distance away.

The tattoo he was working on was a traditional style dragon with clouds behind it. The lines were thicker than the lines on Lilah’s piece but you could tell it was intentional. “You spying on me?” Minho joked as he glanced back at you. Shaking your head, you moved a little closer. “Admiring your work,” you replied.

Minho chuckled and continued to work. “Next you’re going to tell me you want a tattoo,” he mused. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to nudge him as he was working and turned back to Hana and Chris. “You wanna watch?” Chris asked, looking over at you.

You glanced at Hana who shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she added. You walked over and stood beside them. “What kind of piercing is this?” you asked. “Bridge,” Hana replied simply. You pointed at the bridge of your nose and Hana nodded. You nodded and watched as Chris took a black marker and marked either side of the bridge of Hana’s nose.

“Is that where you want it?” he asked, handing her a handheld mirror. You watched as she tilted his head, checking the placement before handing the mirror back. “Yep,” she said simply. Chris nodded, grabbing an alcohol wipe and opening it. He carefully wiped the spot before picking up the needle.

“Alright, he said softly. “Close your eyes. Deep breath in.” You watched as he carefully lined the point of the needle with the mark. “Deep breath out.” As Hana breathed out, Chris pushed the needle in, carefully lining the point with the opposite side to make it even. Once the needle was all the way through, he turned to the tray, opening the package with the jewelry.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed as he removed one of the balls from the barbel and placed the end into the open end of the needle. You watched with morbid fascination as he pulled the needle through, guiding the barbel into the new hole. He removed the needle and grabbed the ball, screwing it on and making sure it was firm and tight.

“And done,” he said simply. Hana opened her eyes, taking the mirror from him to look at the new piece of jewelry as Chris started to clean up. “Be honest,” Hana said, turning to you. “How does it look?” You inspected it a little closer. “It looks really cool. It’s perfectly even, too,” you replied. Hana smiled and looked back into the mirror.

You excused yourself and headed back to Lilah, passing Paxton who glared at you once again. You still didn’t know what her issue with you was but you decided not to dwell on it as you entered Changbin’s station. He’d finished the lines and was now working on shading the lion head.

“How was your trip?” Lilah asked, eyes still shut. “Fascinating,” you answered as you sat back down. Changbin glanced up at you and smiled before returning to his work. “Jeongguk was working on an arm tattoo. It looked like some kind of mandala,” you explained to Lilah. “Minho was doing this really cool traditional dragon tattoo and Chris did a bridge piercing,” you relayed, feeling like a child telling your mother what happened in school that day.

The rest of the appointment passed quickly and soon Changbin was turning off the tattoo gun and setting it down. “Alright,” he said and Lilah opened her eyes. “Let me finish wiping it down and then I’ll cover it. You looked up from your phone, having zone out a while ago while playing some kind of coloring game on your phone. Changbin wrapped up quickly.

As he was finishing, Jeongguk peered in. “We’re ordering from the noodle place down the street,” he announced to Changbin. “You want your usual?” Changbin nodded without looking up as he applied vaseline to Lilah’s tattoo and started securing the plastic. “Get some of those beef dumplings,” he called out. He looked up at Lilah. “You know the drill. Bandage stays on for four days, no soaps except that antimicrobial I told you about, lotion for sensitive skin without dyes or perfumes, blah blah blah,” he added as he got up and started cleaning.

“If the bandage comes off before four days, come back in and I’ll replace it,” he added as Lilah walked over to the mirror, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of it. “And send me that picture,” he added as he noticed her taking another. “I want to add both it and the finished piece to my instagram.”

Lilah nodded and opened her messages to send him the picture. “So what do you think?” Lilah asked, showing off the new ink. You smiled, inspecting it. “I like it,” you replied. “The lines are really clean and the shading is really good. It’s gonna look pretty sick with the color,” you added.

“Does this mean you want to get something?” Lilah asked, wiggling her eyebrows, making you laugh loudly. “No,” you replied. “Absolutely not.” Changbin removed his gloves and tossed them in the trash bin, the snap of the gloves making you and Lilah look over at him.

He had a playful smile on his face. “Is my art not pretty enough for you?” he asked jokingly. You shook your head. “Your art is beautiful,” you replied, catching him off guard. “I just don’t have any desire to get a tattoo,” you explained. Changbin chuckled lightly. “I’m just messing with you,” he replied. “Tattoos aren’t for everyone,” he added. “I get that.”

Lilah thankfully punctuated the subject with her change in topic.

“How much do I owe you?”

You turned to gather your things as Lilah paid Changbin, thanking him once more. “Come back once you’re ready to add some color to that,” Changbin reminded her. She nodded and turned to you. “I’m gonna go see Chris really quick. I’ll meet you up front.” You nodded as you unplugged your phone from your charger and packed up.

As you were pulling on your coat, Changbin spoke up.

“If you ever change your mind,” he said, drawing your attention. “About getting a tattoo,” he added, noticing your confused expression. “I’d be happy to do any work you’d like done.” You smiled warmly. “Thanks,” you said softly, picking up your bag as he leaned against the counter behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d love to be your first,” he added, an amused undertone to his voice.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you met his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you. Something in the playful smirk on his face. Before you could respond, you heard Lilah calling your name, pulling you from your trance.

“I gotta go,” you announced. Changbin nodded, the same smirk still on his face. “See you around, Y/N,” he said softly and you turned away, forcing yourself to walk out of the room and towards the front of the shop where Lilah was waiting.

You followed her out onto the sidewalk, Chris locking the door behind the two of you as they set about closing the shop. “Are you hungry?” Lilah asked, linking her arm with yours. You nodded slowly, still mulling over Changbin’s words and playful banter. “Yeah,” you finally replied as Lilah steered you in the direction of the town square. “Let’s get some dinner,” you added.

“Good,” Lilah said excitedly. “Cause I’m starving.”

ⓘ If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging as it helps me out more than you know. All graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Ever Green

Author: bleuzombie

Artist: Adromelke

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Garth/Benny, Sam/Eileen, Past Castiel/Mick, Dean/Lisa (mentioned), Dean/Lee Webb (mentioned)

Length: 25000

Warnings: No Major Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Restaurant AU, BDSM, Secret Identity, Boss-Employee Relationship, Anger Management Issues, Blood Play, Trans Masc Dean, Miscommunication is the Real Enemy

Posting Date: October 16, 2024

Summary: Dean Winchester lands a sous chef job at fine dining restaurant Ever Green under prestigious Chef Castiel Novak. Dean celebrates with a session with a Dom known as Ripper who rocks his world. Chef Novak spends all his energy tearing Dean apart but each day under his tutelage is a day closer to his dream of his own restaurant. Things are finally working out for Dean but life is rarely that simple. 

Excerpt: “Alright, you sexy bitches,” Dean shouts. “Let’s kill this service. Heard?”  “Yes, Chef!” The kitchen thunders. Dean smiles as he plates two more orders of appetizers. Castiel joins him at the pass but doesn’t take over.  “You good, Chef?” Dean asks.  “You are good at this.” Castiel smiles.  “Thank you for saying that, Chef.” Dean tries not to let the praise distract him. “Ketch, these shrimp are over. New order of shrimp.”  “They are fine!” Ketch argues.  Dean stares at him for a moment. He doesn’t have time to argue, and it seems like Ketch isn’t willing to budge.  “Ketch, off the line, Duma, take over fish,” Dean finishes playing the risotto and puts it on the pass. “I’ll be there to help in a minute. One order of shrimp, Duma.”  “Yes, Chef,” Duma calls. “One order of shrimp heard.”  “You can’t kick me off the line!” Ketch yells.  “I am running this kitchen, and I want you off my line,” Dean doesn’t yell. He doesn’t need to. He’s the one in control. “Now, out of the kitchen, grab a deli and cool down while I’m still willing to give you a chance to cook tonight.”  “Chef,” Ketch turns to Castiel. “This is your kitchen. Are you really going to let this commis kick out your best chef?” “Hey!” Dean snaps. “Chef Novak left me in charge of the kitchen. I said off the line, so get off the fucking line. You’re done tonight.”  “Chef!” Ketch pleads.  “Now, Ketch,” Dean growls. “Don't make me physically remove you from my kitchen.”  “Fine,” Ketch hisses. He grabs the overcooked shrimp and tosses the tray in the garbage.  “Duma, how we doing on those shrimp?”  “Thirty seconds, Chef!” Duma responds.  “Would you like your kitchen back, Chef?” Dean asks. He grabs the tray of shrimp from Duma, checking them over. “Duma, great job. These are perfectly cooked.”  Duma smiles and blushes. “Thank you, Chef.”  “I think I would like to work with Duma on fish,” Castiel says, smiling. “I so rarely get the chance to really work with the commis. Is that agreeable, Chef?”  “Yes, Chef,” Dean nods. “I’m waiting on that ribeye Benny. How long?”  “Three minutes, Chef.”  “Fish and meat, three minutes to the window, heard?”  “Yes, Chef!” Dean winks at Duma, who is still smiling as Castiel stands next to her, grilling shrimp. Cas looks happy behind the line. Dean wonders if he wouldn’t be happier behind the line all the time.  “Okay, new order in,” Dean calls out. “Four risottos. Hester, you got it, or do you need a hand?”  “I got it, Chef,” Hester says calmly. “Six minutes to the window.”  “Six minutes heard,” Dean checks the tickets in front of him. “We’re just heating up chefs. Let’s rock this service.”  The “Yes, chef” is thunderous, and Dean smiles. His time at Ever Green is looking up. 

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[writetimewrongmuse]

Anything For You, Miss Granger.

Day 1 of #Kinktober: Power Imbalance

He’d spent another night sleeping at the office.

Her office.

She hadn’t asked him to — but he had, anyway — in the hopes she would notice how committed he was to her (cause, that is).

His back groaned as he rolled off her hideous sofa, and he only managed a half-hearted ironing charm on his clothes. He knew for a fact she hardly remembered what she had for breakfast most days. She wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t changed his clothes from the day before. In fact, he was certain she wouldn’t notice if one day he sat across from her entirely disrobed — not that he thought about that — only sometimes, occasionally, every other night before he fell asleep.

Regardless, he did a full cleansing routine in her private lavatory, and rearranged her agenda so not a moment went unaccounted for (Merlin forbid she take a moment to breathe, or look at him).

Truly, he hadn’t expected anything else when he’d applied to work under the Hermione Granger at the Ministry of Magic. In fact, it was the reason he had owled in his resume using a pseudonym — his own would have gotten him a steadfast ‘no’ — despite his extensive educational pursuits and double mastery in Runic Translations & Potions.

Hermione Granger had hired a young, bright man named Dray Noir only to find her new assistant was none other than Draco Malfoy.

She had not been pleased, to say the least. Had Percy not been around, Draco was quite sure he would have to go to St. Mungo’s for an urgent obstruction removal. But she had conceded, and he had managed to retain a job that paid him a pittance compared to what he would be paid working anywhere outside of the Ministry.

With her.

Draco had wondered when she’d ask him, why? But for the brightest witch of her age, she was rather — a dumb bint.

She had not asked.

Neither did she see.

It drove Draco positively insane.

Yes, he’d bullied her for six years, but for the past six months, had he not made his true intentions clear every single day?

How many cups of coffee, fresh croissants from the Manor and fresh flowers (for a rather dull and tawdry office) was a man to buy before a witch realised the wizard (working for a pittance, must he reiterate) wanted her?

Six months worth and counting, supposedly.

She walked in, as usual, two minutes after he had placed all three for her on her desk. They went, unsurprisingly, ignored.

“Malfoy, where are the translations for the house-elf blood oath?”

“On your desk.”

“Where on my desk?”

Right next to the snowdrops. “Right beside the flower vase.”

“Oh, excellent. And, oh, these are all translated.” He’d only spent the whole night doing them. “Did they come translated?”

“No.” She nodded, grabbing her Styrofoam coffee cup and taking a long sip that made her chest heave (only slightly, but since he did use his eyes, he noticed) as her fingers traced over his fine penmanship.

“Excellent, this will make negotiations much easier.” She looked up at him. “Do you need something from me, Malfoy?”

Ah, his cue to leave, and sit outside — for someone who had taken this job for the sole reason of being able to look at her, it was positively criminal how little he actually got to.

“No, Miss Granger.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, peering up at him from between thick, chestnut lashes that curved devilishly to frame her large, gold-flecked eyes.

He stilled beneath the weight of her full attention. He felt thirteen again, running away from a girl who had both punched him so she would not see what else she had given him—the black eye had been far more preferable, in hindsight.

That at least had dissipated with liberal use of bruise paste — liberally doing anything with his erection had landed him here, right now — which was nowhere.

“Do you require something more?”

“Maybe.” She said, her eyes drifting to the clock above her fireplace. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. Would you massage my shoulders for me?”

Draco blinked, certain he'd misheard. "Sorry?"

She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head to expose the graceful curve of her neck. "My shoulders are terribly tense. A massage would be lovely, thank you, Mr Malfoy."

He hesitated. This was uncharted territory. But he certainly did not need to be asked twice.

He stepped forward cautiously, his eyes never wavering from her fingers as she pulled her hair over one shoulder, her curls cascading down her chest. "Go ahead."

He placed his hands gently on her, the warmth of her skin radiating through the thin fabric of her satin blouse divesting him of all rationale

What was he supposed to be doing, again?

A massage, right. That was easy — if only he could remember how to move his hands.

“Mr Malfoy.”

“Yes, Miss Granger.” Draco said, his fingers beginning to knead softly. His heart pounded erratically, each beat echoing in his ears. This close, the subtle fragrance of cinnamon and sugar enveloped him, clouding his thoughts even further.

"You're quite good at this," she murmured, her voice coming out in a sultry caress that made him think it would be worth it, if she adopted the flobberworm that he was. She did have a soft spot for pitiful creatures — and Draco was nothing if not that.

"I aim to please." He said tightly, leaning away from her as blood rushed down his body.

“Do you now?”

“Have I been lacking?” He swallowed.

She turned slightly, allowing him a better view of her profile. "Not at all. In fact, you've been quite... attentive."

"I'm glad to hear that."

She leaned back into his touch, her head resting lightly against his chest. "But I can't help but wonder why someone with your credentials would settle for being my assistant."

"I... appreciate the opportunity to work closely with you,” he said cautiously, his finger treading carefully around the cowl neckline of her blouse.

She tilted her head up, her curls brushing against his chin.

“With me?”

His pulse quickened. "Of course."

“I was under the impression it was working under me that had been your intention.” Her lip curled up to one corner as Draco blinked down at her. “Or was I mistaken?”

Draco’s thumb stilled where it was pressed at the knot at the base of her neck, eliciting a silent shiver from the witch.

“I think it’s time to teach you your last lesson, Mr Malfoy.”

“Huh?”

She enunciated her sentence once more, slowly — as if he were dumb — which was, in all honesty, to be determined.

Draco took a step back as she pushed out of her chair and whirled around to face him.

“See, when we’re working in a high-pace setting, such as at an office, or at the Ministry, the only way to get what you want is to man up and ask for it. Do you understand that, Mr Malfoy?”

He had somehow wound up right back on the couch he’d slept on the night before, and he wasn’t certain when that had quite occurred. She was mesmerising where she stood above him, her form backlit by the soft glow of enchanted lamps.

Draco's breath hitched. His gaze flickered between Hermione's face and her stance—commanding, confident, and impossibly alluring.

"I—" his voice faltering under the weight of her words.

Was she…?

"Go on, Mr. Malfoy," she encouraged, only slightly teasing. "Ask for what it is you truly want."

His mouth felt impossibly dry, and he was certain his arousal was as obvious as Hagrid standing amidst a crowd of first years.

Her gaze was unwavering, expectant.

"And if I can’t?" The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.

She tilted her head slightly. "Then you won’t get it. Simple as that."

Draco let out a breath, attempting to gather what little composure he had left. "What is it that you think I want, Miss Granger?"

Her lips curled into a smile — dangerously sweet.

"I suppose this is an impasse, Mr Malfoy.” She began to turn away from him, her tresses dancing vindictively with her movement.

Draco's pulse thundered in his ears.

"I want you."

The air between them stilled, tension snapping into something sharp and electric.

For a moment, neither of them moved, neither of them spoke. Then, with a slow smile, Hermione leaned forward to place her hands on the headrest of the sofa, caging him in.

"See, that wasn’t so hard," she purred, her mouth hovering an inch above his.

"So what happens now?" he asked, his gaze trailing down to catch her tongue retract, leaving her lips moist and plump. Ripe for the taking.

Hermione straightened before he could follow through with the unsaid request — like he had been about to, being the perfect assistant he was.

"You’re fired," she said softly, her fingers ghosting over the sleeve of his shirt, the touch so light it was almost maddening.

Draco blinked, her words echoing in his mind. What the absolute fuck?

"You can’t…" he began, his voice faltering.

“I absolutely can,” she grinned viciously. “Go see Higgins in Mysteries. He’s expecting you to start after lunch.”

“You can pick me up tonight at nine.” She continued on, as if she had not just shattered him only to put him back together. Something told him it would not be the first time. “Know that if you come by broom, I will send you home to play with it all by yourself. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss Granger” Draco nodded.

“Good boy.” Her mouth quirked into a satisfied smile as she moved away from him then, donning her blazer as she headed towards her office door.

She halted turning her head so that her large vixen eyes rooted him to the spot once more.

“This is going to be very fun, Mr Malfoy.”

[bambiiboop]

Bedside Manner (Medic!AFAB!Reader x TLOU2! Tommy Miller )

Spoiler Free Summary: you’ve been secretly in love with Tommy Miller for years. When he gets injured, you - the town medic - take care of him. One thing leads to another…

CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TLOU2

Spoiler Friendly Summary: After losing the closest thing to a best friend you had, the man you’ve secretly pined after for six years is brought to your door gravely wounded. Given time and proximity, you finally act on your feelings.

Pairings: Tommy Miller x Reader , past one sided Joel Miller x Reader

CWs: major character death, spoilers, unprotected PIV, unsafe sex, oral sex (m!receiving), implied thoughts of adultery, Tommy has a dirty mouth, praise kink, big girthy unspecified age gap, mutual pining, cowgirl lmao.

Before the outbreak, there was a rule, a code that all doctors, medics and nurses followed. Do no harm, always help where you can, and don’t get involved with your patients. Simple enough.

That code still mostly applies these days, though you’re pretty sure it’s a much more loose moral code, thanks to your FEDRA sponsored medical education. Wham bam thank you military dictatorship, you’ll take your education and run, thanks very much.

You’ve always had a thing for him. Ever since he joined the community almost seven years ago, just a few months after you, when you were younger and freshly establishing yourself as one of the town medics.

Of course, you’d been too young, too shy, too focused on your job and earning your place in the community, and even if you’d felt a spark between you? It had never gone anywhere. You’d contented yourself to just admiring him from afar, pushing down the pangs of envy when he had married Maria.

Nobody had ever seemed to notice that your gaze always lingered on him. Nobody, except Joel. The arrival of Tommy’s older brother had been a welcome distraction, for a while. Joel had a fair few old injuries for you to keep an eye on, and more than a few mental scars you weren’t equipped to do anything about.

The older man had been your friend; hell, if you hadn’t fallen - albeit rather pathetically and unrequitedly - in love with his brother years ago, you could have grown to love him, perhaps. He had been company. Someone to talk to about the state of the world. To rag on the early days of FEDRA with.

And hell, when you’d both been drunk and lonely, he’d been someone to fall into bed with without any fear of complications. Rough, hasty fucks with no strings, just a line of trust between two jaded people. Never mind the age difference. You weren’t afraid of him, and hell, he knew what he was doing. The one time he had tried to be slow and gentle with you, pressing his lips to your throat, nuzzling into your soft skin, you had let slip your secret, moaning his brother’s name as you came apart around him.

Joel had never given you shit for it. Never been mad about it. Never even mentioned it, but he’d never been soft with you again.

You’d cared about him, in your own way, and now he was gone. Joel was gone, and Tommy…

Ellie and Dina had brought him directly to you, accompanied by two of the patrolmen from the wall. At first, you had been frozen in shock before directing them to get him on the table, for Ellie to fetch your field kit.

Shot in the kneecap. A bullet to the skull, passing through and exiting via his eye. Fuck, he was lucky to be alive. You’d set the younger women up in the guest room and told them you’d call for them if needed, and stayed vigilant all night, waiting.

He had woken just before dawn, and hadn’t left since. Three months had passed, and while the wound to his head was healing well, he still walked with a limp.

“Maria still won’t see him,” Ellie had told you, “I heard them yelling at each other.”

He’d said as much to you, when you had asked about whether they were coming off that break any time soon.

“Doubt we ever will, hon. No matter, really. It was a ticking clock, for a while, anyway.”

He’d moved into your guest room, brought a cardboard box of his belongings over. You hadn’t argued, simply said you could oversee his rehabilitation better this way.

And that had been that. Somehow, you’d lost the person akin to your best friend, and ended up with his brother - the man you had loved for years - living in your guest room. It didn’t seem like a fair trade, even if you were glad for his presence.

Your boots crunched on the snow as you walked up the path to the house, let yourself in and took off your coat, setting your field kit satchel down.

“Tommy? You here?” You call out automatically for your… roommate? Friend? Patient? Who the fuck knows. All of the above.

“Yeah. Upstairs.”

You make your way up the stairs, taking them two at a time, trying not to think about how long it must have taken him to get up here on his own, when he still has to use a cane to get around.

He’s in the guest room that’s become his room, one hand on the wall to brace himself as he looks out the window. You know it’s probably the wrong fucking time to admire the view, but you can’t help but do it anyway, take in all six feet of him, how broad he is, how well put together, even in his mid fifties and missing an eye.

He has his dark curls tied back in a messy bun, has trimmed his facial hair since you saw him this morning. He cants his head to look at you as you come in.

“Are you okay?” You get out, a tiny bit breathless from how fast you took the stairs.

“Aside from moving like a fuckin’ old man? Sure.”

Tommy used to be an optimist, fiercely so, but the loss of his brother and his subsequent injuries have made him bitter and jaded. You understand completely. Put up with his moods because you understand his grief. Understand what it means to be in pain. And because you know better than to pick and choose which parts of someone to love.

“You’re getting better. You won’t need the cane at all, soon.” You encourage; at the moment he only really needs it for the stairs, for longer walks.

“Whatever you say, doc.” His remaining dark eye rolls slightly as he returns to looking out the window. You turn to leave, to give him space, before you start taking his bad mood personally, but he sighs and reaches out a hand to catch your wrist. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

“You’re allowed to be rude to me. Better you take it out on me than anyone else.” You shrug, then promptly shut your mouth. You don’t need to start making things awkward, not when you’re pretty sure he thinks you got over him years ago.

His eye narrows as he looks at you.

“Well, fuck. Joel wasn’t kidding, huh?” He exhales. Sounds, suddenly, very tired.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Your blood turns to ice as you get the words out.

“My brother… well. I loved my brother, but he wasn’t a good man. You know that. He never talked about you to anyone else, would have broken anyone’s jaw who tried, but he may have… shared some… details… with me. On occasion.”

“I’m pretty sure the entire town knew me and Joel fucked on occasion.” You say. The words taste oddly bitter coming out. You’re not ashamed of what happened between you, but talking about your past with Joel with Tommy just feels… whatever. It’s not like he sees you like that.

“It bothered him, you know.”

“What did?”

“Joel’s older by five years.” Tommy doesn’t even notice that he’s using present tense as he speaks; “he did everything first. And he was always there gettin’ me outta trouble. He was always first. I think it bothered him, that he wasn’t your first choice.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You repeat, finally, because the idea that Joel may have told Tommy how you felt…

“We’d had a few drinks, and he told me. He told me you’d never gotten over that spark we had. Told me how he was fuckin’ you one night and it was me that you called out for. And y’know what? I haven’t been jealous of my brother in a long goddamn time, but in that moment… fuck. I wanted to knock him out.” His gaze darkens as he watches you, watches your cheeks heat at the implication.

“I ~” you can’t deny it. Are too fucking embarrassed to deny it. And somehow… grateful. Grateful that Joel had spared you the mortification of ever confessing.

“Been thinking about that a lot, recently.” His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek. “Thinkin’ about you screaming my name when another man’s fuckin’ you. How much I wish I’d gotten a chance to see for myself, all those years ago. Imagine my surprise, finding out you still wanted it…”

“Want.” The word slips out of your mouth to correct him before you can stop it, before you can think of how it’s a bad idea, of how he’s technically under your care and that you shouldn’t -

“Want? Still? It wasn’t… it wasn’t Joel? I thought you were just takin’ care of me cause I’m his brother…”

“No. No; it’s not like that. I loved Joel, but I wasn’t in love with him. He was my best friend, as weird as that sounds… it… no. It’s you. It’s always been you. I never wanted you to know, I didn’t want to make things weird, and you’re married, and -“

“Was married,” Tommy corrects you softly, “not anymore. Now it’s just you and me, in this big old house, and I’m startin’ to think I’d really, really, really like to hear how my name sounds from your mouth when I’m fuckin’ you.”

There’s a sort of edge to him now that wasn’t there when you first met him… and you find that you like it.

“I… you’re still hurt.” You say lamely, distracted, so distracted, by his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek.

A wicked smirk crosses his face.

“So I can’t fuck you into the bed just yet. You said yourself I’ll get better. Ain’t nothing stopping you from riding my cock, is there, honey?”

You’re beyond glad that he didn’t say these words six years ago, because the you of the past would have melted into a puddle under those words. As it is, your knees are a little weak as you nod, try to be a little clinical about it, try not to let how eager you are show.

“You need a distraction, right? If we’re careful… I don’t see why we couldn’t-“

His mouth is on yours before you can finish the sentence. The kiss is needy, demanding, years of hidden desire released in a single touch. You’re careful, still, in how you touch him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to pull yourself closer, lips parting to allow his tongue entrance.

You’ve thought about kissing him dozens of times. Hundreds. Never, though, had you imagined it would be like this. That his mouth would be so soft. Taking in the pine soap iodine scent of him. Your hands find the thin strip of leather tying his hair back; tugging it free, you run your fingers through his dark curls, humming quietly at how soft his hair is.

Idly, your fingers play with the buttons of his dark blue shirt; when he doesn’t stop you, releases your waist so he can get the shirt off, you make short work of the buttons and tug it off, leaving him just in his jeans.

“Go on and undress for me, honey.” The pet name falls from his lips as he softly nuzzles his mouth into your collarbone, nips at sensitive skin, teasing.

Shaking ever so slightly, you step back, unbutton your shirt, let the fabric fall as you make a start on your pants, shimmy out of them. Your bra and panties join the pile, leaving you bare to his gaze. He steps closer to you again, backs you up towards the bed as he slips a hand between your thighs.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he drags his index and middle finger through your slick, slow, deliberate, humming low in his throat at how wet he finds you.

“Fuck…” he almost hisses it as he readjusts his jeans with his free hand, eye dropping closed for just a moment as he slides his fingers inside you, just to the first knuckle, but it’s enough to make you mewl for him.

“Gotta get you ready for me, hon, don’t want you to hurt yourself. Fuck, such a pretty pussy, gonna feel so good round my cock…” Tommy’s rambling, and he knows it, but he’s letting years of repressed desire come to the surface, years of being faithful and not looking twice at you, even when he’s wanted to.

Your hands reach for his belt, get it undone and work on getting his jeans down. Almost lazily, he steps out of them, pulls his fingers out of you and draws them to your lips. With eyes half closed, your lips part and you suck his fingers clean.

“That’s it… good girl.” He moves then, settles himself on the bed, wraps his hand around his cock and strokes lazily as he watches you. Fuck, his cock… you’d been too distracted by his fingers to notice until now. He’s so big, thick and curved and perfect, bigger than you’d ever imagined.

“C’mon over here, honey, ain’t gonna bite.” Tommy’s voice is soft, low, encouraging as you crawl onto the bed, careful to not put any weight on his bad leg as you straddle him, feel the hot weight of his cock pressed against your stomach as you lean down to kiss him.

You know it’s probably wrong. That, given you’re the medic in charge of his care, you absolutely should not be doing this, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when his rough, callused hands settle on your hips, thumbs drawing little circles on your skin.

“Soon as I can manage it,” he tells you, “‘m gonna get y’to sit on my face.”

You shiver with delight at that particular idea, kiss him again, a slow lazy kiss, before you start to slowly kiss your way down his chest, wanting to kiss every single freckle on his body as you eventually settle between his thighs, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Honey, you don’t have to-“

“I want to.” You tell him, smug at the flash of wicked lust that flickers across his face at your words. “Trust me. I want to. Let me take care of you?”

He groans low in his chest, leans back, props himself up against the mountain of pillows on the bed, and watches you. Slowly, deliberately, you wrap your hand around his cock and stroke him, paying attention to the tip, already leaking precum under your touch.

Leaning in, maintaining your eye contact, you lick the head of his cock, humming softly at the salty taste of him, taking him further into your mouth until your nose is pressed into the soft curls at the base of him.

“Fuck, that’s it, such a pretty mouth, shit~” he draws the last word out in a drawling groan, fingers twisting into your hair and holding you in place as he bucks his hips up into your mouth lazily. You take him in eagerly, flattening your tongue on the underside of his length, licking and sucking at him greedily, rubbing your thighs together to try and get some sort of friction.

“Get up here and sit on my cock before you make me cum with that mouth.” His Texas drawl is so much more pronounced as he demands this of you; pulling away from his cock with a lewd, wet sound, you kiss your way back up his chest until you’re straddling him again, his big rough hands back on your hips.

“What, you don’t wanna cum down my throat?” You tease, humming softly as you drag your soaked cunt along the length of him, feeling yourself tighten around nothing at the sheer anticipation of being filled by him.

“Some other time, hon, c’mon, don’t tease this old man, now.” He rocks his hips ever so slightly, and you shift, notching the thick head of his cock at your dripping entrance, sink down onto him.

“Not that old,” you manage to retort, exhaling sharply as your hips meet his, flush against him, his cock stretching you open deliciously. Maybe it’s not how you’d originally envisioned this; you’re both six years older than you’d hoped, you’re jaded and your joints are fucked, he’s lost an eye and will likely walk with a limp for the rest of his life, but none of that matters right now, not when he’s finally, finally inside of you, looking up at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.

“Fuck, where have you been all this time?” He groans as you start to move, resting your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Right in front of you,” you reply, mewling softly when his hands move to cup your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing. “Not my fault you weren’t looking.”

In answer, he bucks his hips up, pressing as deep into you as he can in this position, with his leg still aching.

“Fuck…” the drawn out curse is half a groan of pleasure as you tighten around him, a hiss of pain.

“Careful,” you chastise him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, “you gotta be careful.”

He smirks, lets go of your tits to trail his hands down your sides, to grip onto your hips.

“Then ride me, baby, stop fuckin’ around. Ain’t gonna break, and if I die now with a pretty girl wrapped round my cock? Worse ways to go.” He smirks at you and you laugh, the sound fading to a moan as he takes advantage of your distraction to press a thumb to your swollen clit and rub at it, making you tense up above him, thighs tightening against his.

“That’s it, honey, fuck, like that, fuckin’ love this pussy, can’t believe I waited this long…” Tommy Miller is a lot of things, has done a lot of things, but he tries to be an honourable man. So much as he might be running his mouth now, saying these deliciously filthy things to you, you both know full well that he’d never have touched you if he was still with Maria.

You try not to think about that, focus instead on the feeling of him inside you, grinding his hips roughly into yours as you ride his cock. For a while, the only sounds in the room are soft exhales, the lewd sound of skin and skin meeting, your little needy mewls and the occasional low moan from Tommy.

“Soon as I’m not completely fucked up…” he props himself up as best as he can so your chests are pressed together, “I’m gonna make you scream for me.”

“You mean it gets better than this?” You tease, though it comes out far less teasing and taunting than you planned, given how breathless you are, how you tighten around him at the words.

“You have no idea,” Tommy rests his head on your shoulder as you ride him, able to move faster with his arms around you. “C’mon, honey, need y’to cum for me, know you want to…”

His lips brush your throat as he says it, nose gently nuzzling below your earlobe. It’s such an intimate gesture, it shatters your self control. He grinds up into you as you move to meet him, whimpering as you tighten around him, urged on by the hand he slips between you to rub your clit once more.

“Thaaaaat’s it, honey, let go, be a good girl for me, fuuuuck…” he’s amazed he’s managed to last this long, honestly, at his age, with how long it’s been since he actually enjoyed fucking someone this much; but he’s determined to see it through, to fuck you through your peak and over the other side of it, leaving you sweat damp and clinging to him, whimpering and gasping.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, Tommy, I ~” you can’t get the words out, choke on them, mewl his name as he roughly grips handfuls of your ass, holding you in place as he rocks up into you, chasing his own release now, uncaring about his injuries.

Your moans are muffled by the heated kiss he devours your lips in, muting his own curses and growls as he pulls you down onto him, unthinking, uncaring as he spills into you, feels your cunt tighten painfully around him again, pulling him in deeper.

“Fuck, baby, so fuckin’ greedy for my cum, look at you. Feel so fuckin’ good, look at the mess we’ve made…” he rests his forehead against yours, panting as he tries to catch his breath, riding the last waves of his own release.

You hum, grind down onto him as you feel his release start to drip out of you around his slowly softening cock.

“So,” you say, managing a smirk, still dazed from the fact that he’s touching you, holding you, kissing you. “Did that satisfy your curiosity?”

He pulls out of you with a frankly obscene grunt, lays you down next to him, wraps his arms around you, good eye sparkling with amusement and lust.

“Perhaps. Or maybe we’ll need to try again. Just to see whether you scream louder when I’m fucking you.”

Your cheeks heat as you lean in to steal an open mouthed kiss.

“We’ll need to wait til you’re better.”

Tommy fixes you with a filthy smirk that promises all that and more.

“Good thing I have a fucking amazing doctor, then, huh?”

You can’t help it. You laugh, for the first time in a long time, eager to see what the future will bring.

[ladymunson]

The Boardroom 18+

Fic Summary: After your encounter with Bucky in his house you’re surprised to find out he’s your new boss. His assistant Mary is about to retire and he’s looking for a someone new to take the position. Another co-worker has her sights on the job but Bucky only has eyes for you, much to her chagrin.

A/N: Thank you for the support for part one and sorry it’s taken so long to post part two. I really wanted to get this right.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex, sex in the workplace, unequal power dynamic, drama.

Word count: 2803

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“Y/N wait!” Bucky calls out as you leave the meeting room. You stop and turn around as everyone else files out. Angela gives you the evil eye as she walks past.

“Yes sir?” You say, not making eye contact.

“Please don’t do that. I’m so sorry, I had no idea you worked here.” He says.

“What happened between us will not happen again.” You say in a hushed voice. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m getting special treatment. I’m also going to invest in some blinds, it’s not appropriate for that to continue.”

Six weeks later

“Hey there y/n” your college Mary, Bucky’s personal assistant says as you’re pouring your morning coffee. “Do you have a minute to talk in my office?”

“Of course!” You say as you follow her. Her office is decorated in florals and pastels, very feminine but homely.

“Please shut the door hon.” Mary says, your stomach drops. Are you in trouble? You shut the door and proceed to her desk. “Take a seat.” You oblige and sit down, your heart pumping wildly and your palms beginning to sweat.

“Is everything okay?” You ask.

“Everything is wonderful actually, no one knows this yet but I’m retiring at the end of the month.” Mary says with a smile.

“What?!” You say open mouthed. “Why? And why are you telling me before anyone else?”

“Well… someone needs to replace me as Mr Barnes assistant and I wanted to offer the position to you before I announce.”

“Me?!” You ask, shocked.

“I’ve seen how much of a hard worker you are, even though you’ve not been here long. I see you take great care and pride in everything you do and that’s exactly what this job needs.”

“Doesn’t this need to go through HR first?”

Mary sighs. “I’d rather not, I already know that everyone who applies will get turned down.” You raise your eyebrow in question. “Angela set her sights on James the moment she found out he was taking over from his father. She would instantly put herself in the position, and attempt to put herself in his bed. He’s like my nephew and I just couldn’t let that harpy get to him.”

“If he wanted to bed her, then that‘s his decision.” You reply.

“He doesn’t want to y/n but she won’t take no for an answer, she’s tried to get her claws into him for the past three years when he’s attended company functions with his father. I really want you to take this job, not just because you’re a great worker but you’re also professional.”

“Can I think about it?”

Five days later

“Why did you pick her for the job? What has she got that I don’t?!” Angela pouts as she confronts Mary in her office after the announcement of her retirement.

“I would say it’s nothing personal Angela but that would be a lie. I made my decision, you need to respect it.” Mary replies as she folds her arms across her chest.

Angela scoffs, “We’ll see how long she lasts, Bucky can be SO demanding.” She smirks before exiting Mary’s office.

Mary let’s out a sigh before picking up the phone and dialling Bucky’s number.

“Barnes.” He answers.

“James we have a problem.”

“Let me guess, Angela?” He responds.

“She’s gonna make y/n’s life miserable…”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

The next morning

“What’s this?” You ask as Bucky hands you a brand new smartphone.

“I’ll need to be able to get ahold of you at all times and all instructions and duties will come from this new number. If anyone tells you I’ve asked you to do something, you can ask me on this number. And don’t tell anyone about it, except Mary.”

“Why would…? Ah. Angela?” You ask. Bucky nods and leaves your office.

One week later

Bucky- I’m gonna need you to stay late tonight, we have a meeting.

You- How late?

Bucky- Meeting is at 8pm.

You’re thirty minutes early for the meeting, training as Bucky’s assistant has been gruelling but tonight, you have to set up the conference room. Having this meeting at 8pm means you skipped dinner to be here, it’s that important. If you can land this contract it will be a huge thing for the company, there may even be a pay rise in it for some of us.

You place your bag on a chair and get to work. You use the key to open the supply cupboard and take out a brand new pack of note pads and a new box of pens. You open the note pads and place one on the table in front of every chair and a pen on top of each pad. Next are the water glasses which you place around the table, the refrigerator in the corner of the room is stocked with bottles of water which will be distributed when the meeting begins.

You hear Bucky come into the office, so you quickly grab your bag and run into the ladies room. In the bathroom you change from flats into heels and check your hair. The elegant chignon from this morning has lost its setting so you decide to remove the clips, letting it loose and cascading around your shoulders. You grab my brush out of your bag and run it through your hair, the chignon has left your hair with a bouncy curl which looks really cute. You check your dress, making sure there are no stains on the white of the fabric. Once satisfied you grab a lipstick out of your bag and apply the dusky rose colour to your lips. You usually wear nude lipstick to the office but changed your bag this morning, leaving this colour as your only choice. The colour isn’t very bold which is great so it will do.

You exit the bathroom and head back to the conference room, passing by his office quickly. “Y/N?” You hear him call.

“Yes Mr Barnes” you reply from the conference room doorway.

“Can you please make sure there are note pads and pens around the table? And make sure you set out a place for yourself, I need you to stay and take notes for me.” He calls from his office.

“Pads and pens already set out sir and I’ll add a place for me.”

“Thank you!”

You head to your office and grab your iPad, taking notes on that will be much easier. Then you head back to the conference room and place it at the end of the table, opposite his place. You also get yourself a glass.

He walks into the room, looking at his phone “Y/N they’re arriving now, is everything...?” He trails off as he looks up at you, his mouth slightly gaped. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down at the office... pretty” That last word sounded like it should’ve been a personal thought but you don’t draw attention to it.

“Thank you sir. Is there anything else you need before the elevator arrives?” You ask. He shakes his head as you hear the ding and the doors open.

“James...” the first man exiting the elevator says, extending his hand to him.

He shakes his hand. “How are you Bob?” Several other people get out of the elevator behind Mr Kellerman, he always travels with an entourage.

“Can’t complain. Let’s get this show on the road shall we?” Mr Kellerman walks into the conference room and takes a seat in the middle of the table with his back to the window. His assistant Ms Deacon sits to his right and the other members of the party take seats around the table. You get up from your place at the table and get the bottles of water out of the refrigerator, handing them out.

You can feel someone looking at you, like their eyes are boring through you. You ignore it before taking a seat and opening the notes app on your iPad.

The meeting gets underway, you follow everything that’s being said, writing in code so you can interpret them later.

As you listen to Bucky speak, you realise how incredibly sexy his voice is, shifting slightly in your seat and noticing the dampness in your panties. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as you try to erase the thoughts of him slamming you up against the wall and taking you hard and fast out of your mind. You open your eyes and look up straight into his baby blues, you feel the dampness grow as your eyes lock, the small moan he lets out causing you to soak your panties.

You stand, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, may I be excused?” You ask.

He licks his lips and nods his head. You head to the bathroom, stepping into the stall and locking the door behind you. You lean against it, “fuck!” You whisper as you shimmy out of your underwear. You have no spares in your bag so you’re gonna have to go without underwear.

You throw the panties on the floor behind the toilet to collect later and flush, stepping out of the cubicle and washing your hands.

When you get back in the conference room, they all have beaming smiles. “What did I miss?”

He smiles at you. “We reached an agreement to combine our companies!” You smile and clap.

“That’s fantastic! I’m looking forward to working with you Mr Kellerman.” You respond as you shake his hand.

“I might have to steal your new assistant away from you James, she’s marvellous. And may I say very easy on the eye!”

“Y/N will be staying here Bob” he chuckles and waves goodbye, his fans following suit. The elevator doors close and Bucky lets out a huge sigh.

You’re already clearing up the table when he comes back in. Gasping at the sight of you bending over it. You hear footsteps behind you but you don’t turn, thinking he is going to help clean up.

He stands behind you, eyeing up your ass bent over the table. You move slightly on your feet and he moans. Thoughts race through your mind, should I? You take a deep breath and move back ever so slightly until your ass grazes him, you feel his erection straining through his pants. He groans and reaches out, grabbing your hips and pulling you to him. You gasp.

“Mr Barnes!” He thrusts his hips forward, jerking you upright. He spins you around and grabs the back of your head, possessing your mouth with his.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth. You return his kiss as he grabs your ass, lifting you onto the table, opening your legs and moving between them. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and continues the kiss, loosening his tie before removing it. Your fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, undoing them quickly, eager to get him shirtless. You pull his shirt off of his shoulders and throw it across the room. Then unbutton his pants, pushing them down, freeing his raging hard on. He steps out of them and moves them out of the way.

Bucky’s hand slips up your dress, he moans as he finds you bare pussy, wet and ready. He pulls you to your feet and reaches around to the back of your dress to undo the zipper, slipping it down your arms and watching it fall to the floor below you. He lifts you back onto the table and kicks the dress away, his hands caressing your breasts as he kisses you again.

He pushes you onto your back and kneels, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. He blows gently, making you sigh in pleasure, then kisses your inner thighs. Before placing his entire mouth over your mound, sucking hard. You moan and groan, your head rolling side to side as you play with your breasts.

Bucky releases your pussy from his mouth and licks his lips. He opens you up with his fingers and flicks his tongue over your hard bud. “Ohhhhh... fuck!” You moan out, as his tongue continues it’s relentless flicking over your clit. You can feel an orgasm building deep inside you, your pussy creaming at the thought of an orgasm. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks, gently flicking his tongue over your bean. Your hand reaches down and grabs the back of Bucky’s head, grinding your pussy on his face, chasing your orgasm. It hits hard, making your hips jerk involuntarily and your toes curl. You ride the waves of pleasure, body convulsing in climax, his tongue still licking as the spasms subside.

Bucky stands, evidence of your orgasm running down his chin. You sit up and pull him to you, kissing him passionately, tasting yourself on his kiss.

You jump down off the table, your juices running down your legs as you kneel in front of him. Licking the precum off of his cock, then lifting his cock up to lick from his balls up the underside of his cock to the tip and back down again. You repeat that three times before taking his cock in your mouth, taking it to the back of your throat. His hand grips the back of your head and holds you in place as he shoves his cock in and out of your mouth. He groans as you suck his cock, he grabs ahold of your hair and pulls you to your feet.

Bucky spins you around, bending you over the table and wets the tip of his cock with your slick before sliding inside you. He grabs your hips and begins moving in and out. Your breasts are pressed against the table, hands splayed out in front of you as his hips thrust hard, he grunts as you use your inner muscles to squeeze around his cock.

That releases Bucky’s inner beast and he reaches out with his left hand to grab your hair, pulling you back into him hard. His right hand spanking your ass, leaving red hand prints as his relentless fucking almost splits you in two. You moan again and again as he pounds you, he reaches around to grab you throat making you cum hard around his cock. He chokes you as his fucking becomes primal, you can tell he’s seconds away from coming.

“Fuck me Sir!” You shout, he growls as his orgasm hits and he shoots his load into you, before it drips out and onto the conference room floor.

He turns your head to kiss you, breathing hard. “Well... that was unexpected”

You giggle. “Yes it was Sir” He spins you around and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your back. Compared to how he just fucked you, this was intimate, sweet.

“I’d like to do that again if you’re interested.” He says as he places a kiss on your forehead.

“Now?” You ask.

“No not right now, but again. And again.” He says as he bends to pick up his pants and your dress. He throws your dress onto the table next to you.

“We really shouldn’t!” You reply, “Even if I really want to.” He smiles and get begins to get dressed. You sit on the table and watch him before starting to get dressed yourself.

“I’ve changed my mind...” Bucky says. You sigh, disappointed. “Yes now” You look confused. “I’m going to fuck you again, right now!” He grabs the dress out of your hands and throws it to the end of the table and steps between your legs. He grabs your head and kisses you deeply as he spears your still dripping pussy with his cock.

You let out a moan, he grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, then your legs around his waist.

“Hold on tight!” He says as he begins thrusting his hips hard, making you bounce off the table. He kisses you passionately as he pounds into you, chasing his orgasm...

TO BE CONTINUED

Tags: @jobean12-blog @eddiesprincess86 @bettyfrommars @pattiemac1 @jadeylovesmarvelxo @existenciosa

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

A Star in the Sky | mingi x reader

[a Christmas drabble]

Pairing: song mingi x reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1147 words

a/n: a little Christmas gift from me to you for all the support and love I've received on my story Want you Back. <3 thank you for it all and I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and New Year!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While the snow fell gracefully and covered the city in a beautiful white fleece, you peered out your apartment’s window with a warm cup of hazelnut coffee in hand reminiscing about the past year. 

This was your first Christmas away from family. You moved to Seoul, South Korea for a marketing and public relations job at KQ entertainment, six months after ending a situationship that left you feeling drained and exhausted. Being in your 20s brought forth a fair amount of things to think about and consider. 

The societal expectation of being in a relationship and by extension, being married by now and starting a family weighed heavily on you. Coupled with having a few failed dating attempts, you sometimes wondered if something was wrong with you — were you unworthy of being loved or were you being too difficult with your standards? But just like a boomerang, you always circled back to the same conclusion: nothing is wrong with you, you are worthy and you weren’t difficult for having certain standards and expectations. If they could have expectations of you, then you could do the same.

So, feeling for a change of scenery and pace, you decided to apply for foreign jobs out of curiosity with no set expectations. And it seems fate was on your side, one day while checking your email, you received an offer from KQ Entertainment who generously offered and assisted in setting up everything for you, and you accepted in a heartbeat. As such, being away from family was the main downside of the holidays. There were at least three positives that comforted you through it. Firstly, your apartment which was handled by the company was homely, cozy and spacious. Secondly, your job paid extremely well and so, you were prepared to go all out decorating your apartment and making it feel like home. And thirdly, you had your new friend Mingi.

Now yes, he just so happened to be from Ateez and yes, either he was going to go back home for the holidays or be away on tour but that was okay. The two of you were friends and it felt comforting to know that he had your interest in mind since he articulated that you could message him at any point if you felt sad and alone, and he'd make you feel better.

Your plan was to spend the holiday with your co-worker, friend and neighbour who also worked at KQ. But you didn’t mind possibly contacting Mingi. He was cute, charming, soft and kind-hearted and you felt comfortable around him. 

Five weeks before Christmas, when you told Mingi your plan to decorate and go all out in your apartment and make it the most magical Christmas wonderland, you didn’t think much of it. Unbeknownst to you, a week later, exactly a month till Christmas, Mingi showed up at your place with a small Christmas tree and bags of decorations. 

"Let's decorate together!" He cheered.

That day, you spent the entire day decorating and adorning your living room with twinkling, glittering Christmas lights before settling for making a cheesy and creamy pasta dinner while watching some Christmas classics to get more into the Christmas mood.

"Do you miss home?" He asked.

"Yeah I do. But I'll be video calling to spend the morning together. How do you handle it?"

"I just do. As time goes on, I just remind myself that it won't always be like before. At some point, things shift but consideration goes a long way, so finding ways to keep in touch helps."

You liked Mingi, a lot more than you thought you would. You knew his job carried his life in a different trajectory from yours and you tried to remind yourself he may not necessarily be interested in pursuing a relationship especially given the difference in cultural values. Your friendship blossomed because he found you fun and sweet, making subtle jokes with your neighbour-friend at work while keeping to yourself most of the time. You were also very smart and creative, and he saw how talented you were when they were introduced to the marketing concepts for the next album done by yours truly.

You both started conversing more because of your similar interests in anime and fantasy books after he asked your neighbour about you, wanting to compliment your work. A casual friendship led to you becoming closer and you both were comfortable around each other enough to hang out at each other's spaces — him hanging out at yours more because you didn't want to intrude on his and his members' space.

 You opened up to him about the past year events and some of the intruding thoughts plaguing your mind. Mingi had a way with words and reassured you that you are the brightest star to shine in the night sky.

“Just like these lights,” he expressed, “You have a luminous glow and dazzling spark about you. You’re a shimmering star and the right person will see it. If they’re only interested because of what you could be for them, then they’re not the right person for you. It’s not about what you could be but rather who you already are — all the quirks whether good or bad, because that’s what makes you who you are — the unique, incandescent and sparkling star in the dark night sky.”

Little did you know, Mingi liked you too because he was mesmerised by the way you carried about yourself and how whimsical you were with life. Your personality drew him in and he didn't mind the slight language barrier (you were still getting better at Korean and him with English) or cultural differences. 

He liked you for who you are.

And that’s why sneaky Mingi brought in the mistletoe at the last second before leaving and kissed you under it. It had been a long time since you kissed someone and felt an electric rush. And it was a long time since having someone feel this way about you too.

 It all felt like a special Christmas gift from the Universe.

That your now boyfriend was no one else but Song Mingi. And while he couldn’t be with you on Christmas Day, he made sure to give you your present early and reminded you not to open it until Christmas. 

On Christmas morning, after a video call with your family, you opened it and was captivated. It was a simple, pretty petite star charm with a shiny centre coupled with a chain that could make it be worn as a necklace. Accompanying it was a Christmas card that said: Merry Christmas to my favourite star in the whole galaxy. :)”

So, as you stared out the window watching the snow fall, thinking about the past year, you gently touched your new necklace, smiling at how everything fell into place.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Merry Christmas! And a lil update from Kiko

Hi. I just needed to get some things out and I’m honestly not sure if I’ll even post this after I finish typing it.

I hope everyone is doing well and having a restful holiday with their families. I’m grateful for everyone here in our lil corner, and wish you all a very Merry Christmas and am looking forward to what 2025(that’s insane to type) brings all of us! (Especially more Goinko 👀)

My update below the cut.

I finished moving today. Finished moving out of a house that, when I moved into it, I thought it would help improve my marriage that was already failing. I thought the things that were happening around us in our old apartment were the catalyst for our arguments and constant fighting, for his refusal to try marriage counseling. I thought that our apartment flooding and the black mold growing in the corners were what caused so much discontent and anger. I thought my boss constantly yelling at me was the reason I was exhausted and unable to handle my husband’s constant criticism and arguing when I got home. But those were only small factors that piled on top of larger issues that lay beneath two incompatible people, one of which was reaching her absolute limit with existing because she was constantly told that any version of who she really was was hard to love and impossible to like.

When we moved into that house, we were so excited. I was so excited for the new possibilities. Then we adopted Atlas and I really thought things could only go up. I was wrong.

I’ve been working on getting things moved over the past month, emptying out the three bedroom house and moving into a one bedroom apartment. I had to figure out how to try to pay rent on unemployment that was only a fraction of what the expenses were, and ended up having to deal with my ex-husband’s condescending accusations that my lack of savings and inability to pay the rent was due to my own shortcomings and not the lack of a job, or the fact that my entire life’s savings disappeared and never returned not long after we got married. I had to deal with him treating me like a stupid teenager who got in over their head when I didn’t get to up and leave all of my rental problems behind for him to fix. I had to fix the broken light switches and stained walls and carpets from his tantrums when he would throw and kick things in my direction but never directly at me so that he could still brag that he’d never hit me. He left within six days of me finally admitting I wanted a divorce, after he forced it out of me by threatening with it like he always did. He up and left, took Atlas without letting me say goodbye, and left everything he didn’t want for me to deal with and try to figure out how to get rid of or sell. Half-finished DIY projects and an electric lawn mower with no battery because he took that to be spiteful.

The past month has been a constant go-go-go while I worked part time, applied for jobs, and cleaned out the house as best I could while living with the constant dread of what I’m going to do once unemployment runs out. It may seem like nothing to some, but I’ve been at my limit all year and I’ve been running on empty for at least the past two years.

I felt a whirlwind of emotions today as I stood in the doorway and stared at the empty house, wiped clean of the evidence that I ever lived there. That the space once held all my hope that if I could just do better, my marriage would be fine, now empty and perfectly spotless thanks to the cleaners who did an incredible job. With the scent of cleaning products and carpet shampoo in the air, it all hit me at once that even though I’ve spent the past month cursing everything to do with that house and saying I wanted nothing more than to be done, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leave it behind because it was the last connection I had to the illusion of happiness I’d clung to for so long. A happiness that never truly existed in the first place. Instead of spending Christmas Eve with family, I was finishing up leaving behind a place I’d called home and genuinely loved so much when I moved in. I spent Christmas Eve alone, sobbing as I tried to come to terms with the fact that I felt so unbelievably sad for reasons I couldn’t begin to understand or explain. I don’t miss him. I don’t miss how he treated me or looked at me or spoke to me. I don’t want him back in my life in any way, so why did I feel so damn sad and reluctant to close that front door a final time?

There’s also the anger and bitterness that’s really begun to creep up lately. The rage that burns my chest at the fact that he gets to pretend he did nothing wrong and still treat me like it was all my fault. When he claims he couldn’t pay rent for a place he signed a contract for while he still has a full time job and a $6,000+ bonus coming in a week, while I scrape by on unemployment and still manage to make ends meet after being left with thousands in debt and no savings from the divorce.

Today was me closing out a chapter of my life that there was a time I never thought would come to an end. Officially leaving behind the last thing that truly tied me to my ex husband in any way. I won’t get my full deposit back because there was too much for me to do alone, and I didn’t have any type of energy left to keep working on it. But it’s done. I’ll have more time now to focus on something other than moving, which means I’ll be working and applying for jobs, but also trying to get back into writing more regularly again.

I’ll be around a bit for the holidays because I have a few days off. But like I said before, I hope everyone is resting and having a wonderful time with their families or whatever they’re spending their time doing!

This lil corner has been one of the few positive things in my life, something I never thought would come of my random Gojo brain worm almost two years ago. Thank you all again for the support and love you’ve given this year. I’m really excited for what next year will bring. (Like maybe a short tattoo au one shot)

- Kiko 💕

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Bruce survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 15/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Fifteen: My Best Friend

Bruce graduated early the following year and started attending Gotham University in the spring of what would’ve been his junior year in high school. He got a part-time job with Wayne Foundations as his mother’s personal assistant and helped out at Ted’s gym between sessions while Harvey immersed himself in honors classes, a part-time job in the Wayne Foundations’ cafe, and volunteer work for Thomas’ mayoral campaign. The boys shifted into their separate paths, only coming together at mealtime. And with the election and Martha’s spring gala around the corner, everyone worked through meals like their lives depended on it. 

Mornings were even worse. Everyone buzzed upstairs and downstairs and through the hallways, brushing past each other and giving short greetings. “Mom! I’ll be late for the gala next Saturday! I have a thing, but I’ll be there around nine-ish!” Bruce shouted from the bottom of the stairs as he put his jacket on. 

“Okay, lovey! Am I still gonna get my dance before midnight?” Martha replied as she ran down the stairs in her heels. “How do I look?” 

“Yes ma’am… And you’re a picture of loveliness as always, Mom,” Bruce whispered as he kissed her cheek, “I gotta go. I’m running late for class. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Bruce. Don’t drive too fast,” Martha waved as she watched Bruce speed past her out the door. 

Harvey stepped out of the kitchen with a bagel in one hand and a ginger ale in the other. “Mr. Wayne! I’ll pick up your blue suit and brown jacket from the cleaners after school! And remember that I’ll be at the clinic at noon with a few kids from school to interview you for the school paper! If you’re not available, I’ll—!” 

Thomas ran into Harvey and held his shoulders. “I carved out an hour and a half for you kids. I didn’t forget. Hey, you look kind of pale, Harv. Maybe you should skip your first class and—.” 

“Don’t have time, Mr. W., but I might stop by the clinic next week,” Harvey replied. Thomas stopped him and checked his lymph nodes. “Mr. Wayne, I’m fine. If I don’t go soon—.”

Thomas took a tiny flashlight out of his pocket and shined it in Harvey’s eyes. Harvey took Thomas’ wrist and winced. “Your pupils are uneven—.” 

“I’ve got a little migraine, Mr. Wayne. I’m fine, though. I gotta go,” Harvey replied before slipping past Thomas and heading for the garage. 

**

Bruce ran into Harvey on the way home from the gym, and he noticed Harvey was trying to obscure his face as he ran from the garage to the house. Bruce followed him. “Harvey!” Bruce shouted as he chased him to the living room and grabbed his arm. Blood gushed from Harvey’s nose through his hands, and Bruce gasped. “Harvey, jeez! I should get Dad—.”

“He’ll take me off the team—.” 

Bruce shook his head and took off his outer t-shirt to hold against Harvey’s face. “Dad!” Bruce shouted. “Dad would never. He might make you take a few days from school and a night or two off work—.”

“I can’t afford it,” Harvey whispered.

Bruce froze. “What do you mean?” Bruce asked. 

“I’ve applied for six scholarships, Bruce. I’m screwed if I don’t—.” 

“My parents will—.”

“I don’t want their help. Your parents have done way too much for me already. I want to prove to your mom and dad that I’m a self-made man… Or at least I could be,” Harvey replied. 

“But that’s crazy—.” 

“Bruce, if you get your parents involved in paying for my college, I’ll never forgive you,” Harvey whispered through his teeth. 

Bruce sighed. “Fine… But you’re killing yourself for no reason, Harv—.”

Thomas rushed toward Harvey and Bruce. “Harvey, what happened?” Thomas asked as he took Harvey to his downstairs office. 

**

Harvey slept through his first two periods at school, and he woke up to Bruce sitting at Harvey’s desk, typing a paper. “What are you doing?” Harvey asked. 

“Typing your essay that you wrote. Dad wants you to stay in bed and get some rest,” Bruce whispered, “So, I’m really just here to babysit you. My professor doesn’t mind. I told her I had a family emergency, and I turned in all my assignments for the week early anyway.” 

“Bruce, can I ask you something?” Harvey questioned.

“You can ask me anything,” Bruce answered without turning around. 

Harvey laid back down and quietly watched Bruce work. “You can have and do anything you want… Why do you work so hard? You’re a chronic overachiever but everything you could ever dream of is already in your hands,” Harvey replied. 

“You wanna know the truth? After my parents got shot in that alley, all I wanted was for my parents to be okay. I just wanted them to live… And everything else I’ve had outside of that doesn’t feel—. I don’t deserve any of it. Until I can help someone or save someone from something like that, my place in this world feels selfish. 

“My parents deserve to live, but I—. Do I?” Bruce asked. 

Harvey frowned. “You don’t think you’ve saved me?” Harvey asked. “If I hadn’t met you when I did, I would’ve lost my mind by now. No one’s like you, Bruce. You’re always looking out for me even when I don’t want you to. You’re the most unselfish person I know… And I think you’d be that way even if you weren’t rich. You’d still try to give people the shirt off your back if that was all you had. I don’t think you’re selfish at all.” 

“I feel that way. I can never repay the world for the circumstances that allowed my parents to survive,” Bruce whispered, “And I didn’t save you. You’re important to me… You make my life better. I need you more than you need me.”

“I don’t know how you could say that. I literally live in your house—.”

“I hate it when you’re not here. Even if I’m not home, I like knowing that you’ll be here when I get back. That when you go to sleep you’re no farther than the two doors between us,” Bruce replied. 

“How long have you been awake?” Harvey asked, noticing the emotionless tone of Bruce’s voice. 

Bruce turned to him. “I didn’t go to sleep last night. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bruce replied, “Dad said you’re overworked, and it caused your blood pressure to spike. So, I’ve been going through your to-do list… And I’m more than halfway done.”

“Bruce, I could’ve—.”

“You started most of these things yourself. Dad’s dry cleaning was in the car already, I mailed the letters in your car, picked up your stuff at the store, returned your library books, and took your uniform to the dry cleaners… Oh, and I got the blood out of your seat with Alfred’s help,” Bruce interrupted before turning back to the computer. 

“Thanks, Bruce,” Harvey whispered, “I’ve been a jerk to you these past few weeks. Why are you being so nice to me?”

“You’re my best friend,” Bruce answered matter-of-factly. And it hit Harvey’s heart. Bruce genuinely cared about him even when things weren’t going well between them, and it made Harvey fall deeper in love with him. He let out an anguished sigh as he pulled the blankets over his face. “Said something, Harv?”

“Nope,” Harvey mumbled as he hid his rosy-cheeked expression.

[goodluckclove]

hey clove ! long fucking ask wow i apologize. this is just me rambling so conserve your brain if you wanna

i was thinking a lot about fancy foods today and had some interesting thoughts . i work at my local mall selling frozen macarons/chocolates/gelato and other pastries etc at a little kiosk in the middle of the food court for "luxury" prices (like almost 4 dollars per macaron). everything in the display cases is visually enticing - the macarons are brightly colored, the chocolates are in different shapes and colors and textures, the gelato is, ,, well you know how cute gelato is it's pretty damn cute. and the kiosk is white and generally pretty spotless as well, and the decor is french-themed cus that's the genre of stuff we sell. overalll it's marketing toward the WASPs of the area and their young kids. but something i've realized is that while everything we sell might be super yummy to look at, it's not really that yummy to eat. the macarons largely taste the same, and that flavor is mostly just almond. the colors are just colors, they're like froot loops. the gelato - which i've only recently properly tried - tastes pretty damn good (we sell a praline hazelnut one - OH BABYYYYY. i will be embalmed in that stuff when i die) - but the texture is just way, way off. it's grainy and just not like gelato at all. it feels like a scam or a multi level marketing scheme. its advertised as being super high end and bougie but it's really not.

compare that to the other restaurants in the food court. they're not glamorous. there's only a few chain restaurants; the rest have generic names, have fast-talking employees with beautifully diverse accents, have graphics with three different logo iterations and menus with low-quality photos. today i bought an egg and mozzarella crepe from one of these restaurants, and watched it being made while the employees threw friendly jabs at each other in a language i didn't recognize as an icon of the virgin mary gazed at them from the wall. the crepe wasn't pretty or brightly colored or aesthetically packaged. it cost me ten dollars with a tip and it was more food than i could ever eat. i sat crammed next to the sink in the kiosk using our big rubbermaid freezer cart as a table and tried not to cut the aluminum foil and styrofoam container along with the crepe. that thing made me so nostalgic and calm; the flavors were so familiar and comforting.

there's bigger nuances here than just "pretty food bad, unpretty food good", but it was a really interesting observation for me. i already knew my job was lowkey scam-ish, but to see real food actually being made without much fretting over how visually good it is to focus on how good for the eater it is - it was cool. i'm quitting my job soon. who knows, i might apply to the pancake place they're putting in.

anyway this was just a neat day, and i thought you might find it interesting. i hope you're doing well, and congrats again on blind trust !

God I loved reading this. Your descriptions of these two conflicting environments ring so true in my head. I'm gonna go ahead and drop a read more because I do have some food thoughts related to this and I'm also feeling like rambling.

Because we've all been there, right? The type of fancy bakery that sells a cake for like six dollars that looks amazing but is mostly moose or like stale almond cake. Macaroons are so enticing in theory, but because of the effort it takes to actually make them in the way they're intended they're surprisingly difficult to do right. You have a good macaroon and it's fucking worth 4 dollars, though. The combination of the crisp outer shell with the plush meringue and thick frosting. Plus they come in fun flavors - rose, lavender, earl grey. Yum yum. But a bad one just turns into paste in your mouth.

One of my favorite things in the world is what I call a medium-fancy dessert. It's usually a cake for me, although gelato would also suffice. It's something that feels fancy without losing that base level of quality and satisfaction. There's a bakery in Portland that stocks a 24-hour vending machine with their cakes (I know man it's crazy), and they're a pretty solid source of medium-fancy treats. They look pretty, but they have a ratio of soft, moist cake to quality frosting that really gives you a filling experience.

If that's not accessible, tiramisu works nearly every time for me. Plus it's not usually that more expensive than other cakes.

Compare that to smaller, usually immigrant-run restaurants that sometimes choose to let the quality of their food speak over the aesthetics of the storefront. What comes to mind when I imagine that is Sivalai Thai Restaurant, which is my favorite place for Thai food in my part of Portland. That's saying a lot too, since there are a TON of Thai places here for some reason.

Riley and I order from there a lot, and the portions are really good. The Thai Iced Tea is delicious. But I'm always impressed by the little touches the owners add - mainly how they always throw in a free portion of mango sticky rice, but also that they don't mind packaging a container of their Prik Nam Pla, which is like my favorite Asian condiment ever. It's Thai chilis and green onion in fish sauce and it is this insane mixture of sweet tanginess and sharp, fresh spice. I just learned how to make a vegan version from scratch and it's changed my life.

What I've loved to do in food service is combine these two experiences. I worked at Zupan's which is a boutique grocery store here in the Pacific Northwest, and one of my favorite things to do was provide an extra homey quality to the place that is otherwise asking you to pay like seven dollars for a bag of Doritos.

We had a different meat special at the deli every day, and on Sunday (I think) it was prime rib. Like, actual prime rib - very good, very expensive. A serving for one person would be like thirty bucks. We were allowed to give out samples though, so I'd summon like everyone I saw and invite them to try it.

They'd all love it, of course. It was fucking spectacular. Crispy, but with the perfect amount of rich fat and meat. Delectably salty. Rubbed with herbs and spices that would char as it smoked on the grills outside the store. It was truly remarkable stuff - but I'm not about to push cooked meat that's like sixty bucks a pound, maybe more.

What I would say, though, is that while Sunday is our prime rib roast day, we cut the ribs off in advance and cook them up for people to buy on Monday. So you can essentially get the deliciousness of the prime rib for like a forth of the price. People always seemed to like to hear that.

Food takes care of people, you know? And the people that serve food also take care of people. And I've always found that to be an incredibly important thing. If I am ever in a situation where I have to go back to a conventional full-time job, I'm far more likely to go back to food service than copywriting. I feel like I did much more good waiting tables at a Denny's than I did writing pest control websites for my bullshit media job.