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#tattoo artist!steve rogers
navybrat817 · 7 months
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Incandescent
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes Summary: Bucky and Steve try to put on a show for you. Word Count: Over 1.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, implied vaginal and anal sex, threesome, bondage, dirty talk, tension, polyamory, possessive behavior, porn with feels (it’s me, c’mon), tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: Welcome back to my Howling Commandos Tattoo AU! Have you missed them? I know I have! I was nervous posting this as this my first dive into dynamics with Steve and Bucky, but I love it. If that isn't your jam, feel free to skip! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby ​but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nixakimbo ! Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky and Steve were your world. You weren’t afraid to voice that. In fact, you were proud to be on their arms when you were out together. You had their hearts and vice versa. You were their best girl. Their Blossom. Nothing would ever change that.
But once you got your hands on them, you were going to strangle them. Not enough to inflict real damage. You would never. You loved them. But they were going to feel some sort of wrath.
Fucking tattooed bastards.
You struggled against the binds, your wrists bound tight enough to keep you from escaping, but not enough to hurt you. Like you wouldn't hurt your boys, they would never harm you either. Your core throbbed enough to ache when they knelt on each side of you and faced each other on the bed.
Why did I let them talk me into tying me up? Damn them and their persuasiveness.
As Bucky moved his hand upwards to cup Steve's cheek, they smiled. From their profiles, you caught a hint of playfulness and something deeper before their lips met. A bond between two men who had been through hell and back together. Somehow you became their heaven on earth, allowing them to be with you and each other. And wasn't that the beauty in your relationship? Boundlessly loving and trusting each other?
No. I will not get mushy. Not when I'm frustrated.
Bucky’s tongue darted out to lick along Steve’s bottom lip as he pulled away. “I think Blossom wants a taste,” he said, turning his head to wink at you. Had you voiced your frustrations out loud or did he know you well enough that being a mere spectator wouldn't be enough today?
Both.
“And she’ll get one when we’re ready,” Steve stated, a sympathetic smile on his face as he gazed down at you. You wondered if he was secretly a sadist since he seemed to take pleasure in your current “pain”. “We made you too greedy, didn’t we, sweetheart?”
You squinted, trying your best to glare when they chuckled at your predicament. “You know why I’m greedy? Because you two can’t keep your hands off me OR your tongues, fingers, and cocks out of me. Excuse me for getting a bit used to it when you're to blame.”
Steve chuckled at that, not disagreeing with you.
He better not. I'm right.
A coo left Bucky’s mouth as he leaned down, his lips moving along your cheek before they stopped at your ear. “Who said we’re not giving you our tongues, fingers, AND cocks? Stevie and I just wanna have a little fun first while you watch. Is that so bad? Hmm?”
You whined in response, your hips rising and pussy begging for attention. Mandy joked that your libido was in permanent overdrive thanks to your boys and she wasn’t wrong. Your body craved and welcomed them. They fit like a glove, missing pieces that made you whole.
It was also a sight watching them. The view alone would've been enough to disintegrate your panties had they not destroyed them already. But tying you up so you couldn’t touch? Not even a small feel of Bucky’s bicep or Steve’s chest? It was cruel and unusual punishment and there would be retribution. Those bastards would rue the day.
No clue how, but they will.
“Do you need to touch us that badly? Are you that desperate for us?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow when Bucky leaned back up.
“Yes! Have you seen you two?” You asked as they shifted their gazes to look each other over. They shed their clothes before they bound you to the headboard, giving you a chance to admire them. Hard muscles, sculpted tattoo gods, one blonde and one brunette. “You were created for at least one person in the world to worship you and drive people insane.”
“Aww, I think she wants to worship us,” Bucky smiled, gliding a hand down Steve’s chest. You watched the blonde swiftly inhale, knowing how much he loved the slow drag down his body. “What do you think?”
“Buck,” Steve groaned when Bucky firmly wrapped a hand around his cock.
“Maybe you can fuck my throat first?” The brunette suggested, lazily pumping him as you bit your lip. “Or at least let me get my mouth around it. Get your cock sloppy and wet before you fuck our girl.”
“Please,” you moaned, unable to spread your legs any further since they were still planted on either side. “I need it.”
If begging is what it takes, I'll do it.
“Or you can suck my cock before I fuck her? I know you love watching me slide in and out of her sweet pussy. She always takes me so well,” Bucky went on, Steve’s eyes slipping shut as he began to leave open mouth kisses on his neck. You understood why Steve shivered. Bucky had a very talented mouth. “Too bad she can’t touch herself while she watches like last time.”
Yeah. Too fucking bad.
“Touch her, Buck,” Steve ordered, making you and Bucky gasp when he gripped his hair and pulled him back with a smirk. “Slip those fingers in her cunt and show me how soaked she is from the sight of us.”
You were fairly certain that Bucky and Steve were the only men in the world who could speak about you like you weren’t there and get you hot and bothered. They didn’t have to touch you to prove how wet you were, but you weren’t going to stop Bucky from curling his digits inside you. Especially when Steve gave the order in that deep, husky tone.
“Please, Bucky?” You asked sweetly, raising your hips again. “I know I've been a little mouthy and impatient, but please? Show Stevie how wet my pretty pussy is?”
You shrieked when Bucky’s hand suddenly came down on your throbbing cunt, the smack loud in your ears. “Not your pussy, doll. It’s ours. Now be good and open up,” he said, his voice rough as he bent down and spread your lips apart with one hand, the other still pumping Steve’s hard cock. “Our pussy really is pretty. What a fucking sight.”
“You gonna apologize for calling our pussy yours?” Steve questioned, arching into Bucky’s touch the moment he slipped two fingers inside your wet hole. It hardly stung, the relief as he thrust his fingers making you whimper. “I think you owe us one.”
“Okay. I'm sorry, you fucking tattooed bastards,” you said, smiling dreamily at Steve when he narrowed his eyes. He said to apologize, but didn’t say anything about getting mouthy. Again.
“And this is why we tied you up,” he said, wiping the smile off your face. “You beautiful brat.”
Not fair.
“Oh. Now you’re being mean, Steve,” Bucky said, smirking when he brushed a thumb over your swollen clit. “But I’m not mean, doll. Gimme a few minutes and I’ll get my mouth on your perfect tits. Love hearing you whimper when I drag your nipples between my teeth.”
You shuddered with your next breath, your breasts lightly shaking with your exhale. Both sets of eyes on you darkened at the movement, your cheeks hot as you squirmed. Maybe being tied up wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It didn’t give you a chance to hide from their hungry gazes. It left you open, vulnerable, ready for whatever they gave you.
And you’d take it all because you were strong and eager enough, just like they took everything you gave them. It made sense why you were their Blossom. You bloomed into the person you were now and they helped you continue to grow. In some ways, you did the same for them.
“And who said I’m not getting a taste of anything?” Steve said, batting Bucky’s hand away from his cock. “Take your fingers out.”
Bucky swiftly removed them, making you whine at the loss. A punched sound came from your gut a heartbeat later when Steve gripped Bucky’s wrist and sucked his fingers into his mouth with a grunt, not stopping until they were clean. “I may not need to get your dick wet if she's that soaked. You might be able to slide on in while I fuck you.”
Fuck, please.
It was Bucky’s turn to tremble when Steve nipped at his earlobe. “I think you’d like that. Me at your back. Her at your front. Both of us loving you the way you deserve,” he said, before he turned a fond gaze your way. One that made your throat go dry. “Loving each other the way we all deserve. I know our best girl would agree.”
“Of course, I do,” you whispered. That wasn't lust speaking, but the pure adoration you had for them.
“I love you both so much,” Bucky said without fear or hesitation, his blue eyes sparkling with joy.
You stopped shifting against the mattress, tears threatening to clog your throat. How could they simultaneously turn you on and resort you to happy crying? They made your heart and holes full.
“Love you both, too,” you said, your chest rising and falling with your next breath. “And I’ll be good and watch until you’re ready for me.”
Bucky swooped down to catch your parted lips with his. Heat surged through your body as his tongue fervently tasted your mouth. As quickly as it began, it stopped so Steve’s mouth could replace his. It was just as demanding and hungry as Bucky’s before they turned their attention back to each other, leaving you a panting mess as you watched captivated as they licked and sucked, their kiss rough and desperate.
You knew exactly how they felt.
Steve’s hand closed around Bucky’s cock, swallowing down his groan of pleasure as you could only look on. You found yourself smiling again as they got lost in each other, each of them making sure to keep a hand on you. They were beautiful. They were yours. And they were your home.
Still might strangle them a bit once I’m free. Nah. I’ll just sit on their faces. Much better way to suffocate them.
Until they took care of you, you’d enjoy the show.
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Blossom already has a revenge plan brewing. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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Yep librarian Bucky and Tattoo Artist Steve
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pineapplebread · 1 year
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This is a little full circle moment for me, a little approval stamp on the first drawing that started the Tattoo AU. I started the series after Endgame, not expecting for it to be the multi year journey it has become. I’ve been asked many times if the Avengers have seen the art before.
I can now officially say, yes, Chris Evans has seen tattoo Steve. (He smiled down at the print, nodded and said, “I dig it. I like it.”)
I’m extremely emotional that so many of you guys are so happy for me. I’ve always said the Tattoo AU was a collaborative project, and it def wouldn’t have gone on for so long and with so much detail without the input and encouragement from the stevetony community. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for your continued love and support of this series. I’m eternally grateful 💖
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punkbarnes2 · 6 months
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DAY 04 - TATTOO ARTIST . (Swipe for old version) This took me longer than i expected, i didn't liked the previous art - in fact it is one the old arts that i like the least - so that's why i decided to make it from scratch, and also, my unstoppable urge to make a lot of tiny little details. At least this time i had more success into making Bucky look like Sebastian Stan's Tommy Lee (which was the original intention) That's it, xoxo
My commissions are still open babies, and you can also support me on Ko-fi <3
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lokiswifeduh · 1 year
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beautiful flesh
pairings: tattoo!artist!buckybarnes x fem!plus!size!reader
summary: You're going in with Natasha to get a tattoo, but you're nervous since the place you want it in has a little extra skin. Thankfully, Bucky is there to assure you you're beautiful.
warnings: needles, blood, tattoos, negative self-talk, I think that's it!
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Natasha walked in first, the bell on the door jingling as she stepped through. You walked in behind her, timidly looking around as you kept at least a two-foot distance between the two of you.
"Romanoff!" A blonde man grinned as he stepped up to the counter, wiping off a bottle with black liquid in it. He was covered in tattoos, his arms filled with roses and skulls and his neck was covered in intricate designs as well. You eyed the ink drawings, admiring them from behind your friend.
"Y/n!" You snapped out of your daydream as Natasha caught your attention. "Hmm?" She let out a small chuckle, "I was just telling Steve here about the tattoo you wanted to get."
You nodded, "Yeah, I want flowers." "You gotta be a little more specific, doll." All your heads snapped in the direction of the man walking from behind the glass partition. His eyes were steel blue, contrasting with the chestnut brown of his hair. His muscled flexed back and forth as he cleaned off a piece of equipment, the tattoo's on his arms moving over the muscles underneath.
You soon realized everyone was staring at you, awaiting a response. "Uh, a vine of flowers, with the branch going up on my breast." You slightly lifted your arm, motioning with your other to the underneath of your right breast. Bucky's eyebrow raised slightly, "I hope you gotta picture, doll. Come on back." I looked to Natasha who had already sat down at Steve's station, the blonde artist already working on sanitizing and cleaning her arm where her next design was going.
You followed the brunette man to the back of the store, walking through and into a room where there was a chair with a table of supplies. "You can lay down on your back." You moved, following his words as you let your back rest against the chair, your legs bent down but not enough to touch the ground.
Bucky cleaned off his machine, making sure everything was prepped and ready. You didn't wanna tell him this was your first tattoo but somehow you could tell he knew. Plus the absence of art on your bare arms and back made a statement that you hadn't done this before.
Bucky sat down on the rolling stool beside the chair, "Lift up your shirt for me, doll." You cringed, Bucky catching your grimace. Just as you were about to lift your tank top he caught your hand, "If you're uncomfortable you don't have to do this." You shook your head, "It's not, I just..." You took a deep breath, "I'm a little bigger than most girls and I'm not really sure this tattoo will..work with my size."
Bucky's brows furrowed in confusion before softening his gaze, "Doll, I've been doing this for a while. And I can tell you, no matter the size you are or the shape you are beautiful, and this tattoo, or any you get in the future will look amazing on your exquisite body." You let out the breath you were holding, squeezing your eyes shut only to open them as you made eye contact with the brunette sitting above you.
"You mean that?" Bucky nodded, a smirk gracing his lips, "You have nothing to be worried about, doll. You have an amazing body, believe me." You nodded your head, pulling up your shirt and holding it so he could sanitize your skin.
He wiped off the area you described, "I might need you to lift a little more of your bra if that's okay." You let out a low laugh, "Can I at least know your name before I flash you?" He huffed out a surprised chuckle, "My names' James. and you are?"
"Y/n" You lifted your bra a little more as he swiped the disinfectant over the under of your boob.
"Well, nice to meet you Y/n." You smiled, feeling his hands over your body like electricity.
"You too, James."
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A/N: I honestly loved this idea! Plus it was fun getting to photoshop Natasha and Bucky with tattoos! I want to start doing more Bucky x plus-size!reader, since I am plus-size myself and it is hard to find fics with plus-size readers.
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biwritesfics · 8 months
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Broken Halos
An 18+ Tattoo Artist Steve story
Steve Rogers x Fem!reader 1k words
No use of y/n, the reader’s nickname is Angel.
This bit is pretty PG just a bit of language
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I fidget with my bike lock staring apprehensively at the tattoo and Piercing shop. Shield’s Tattoos and piercings was the store I had walked into on my eighteenth birthday clutching my ID and a 50 dollar bill. That’s when I met Nat. She pierced my ears and chatted with me over sodas. I came to her for the next five, filling my ears top to bottom on both sides. She had been begging me to get a tattoo but Nat wasn’t an artist and she was the only person I let stick needles in my body, well until now.
I had a meeting with Nat’s friend Steve to talk about a tattoo. He was fresh off army service give or take about a month he spent soul searching on an oil rig in the artic. Girls have gap years in Europe. I guess burly men have that. Nat had sung his praises and reassured me a million times that he was great but here I was standing outside the shop quaking like a leaf. They could probably see me so my fear of looking like an idiot outweighed my fear of strange men and prolonged exposure to needles.
The bell above the door rings as I enter. The shop smells like incense and cleaning solution, an aggressive combination that I had somehow grown to love. Nat turns the corner and hurries to wrap me in a warm hug. “God I can't believe you actually came! Your latest has healed nicely!” She refers to the small stud on my nose. I squeezed her tightly. “Yeah, the swelling went down in no time.”
“You must be Angel.” The deep voice is attached to a gorgeous statue of a man. He has baby blues that would make just about any woman North of the Mississippi weak in the knees. I blush before speaking. “It’s not my name but it's what everyone calls me. You must be Steve?” He nods and grins. That'd be me, sweetheart, wanna come back and take a look at some sketches I did?”
He escorts me to the back with a big hand resting between my shoulder blades, gently guiding me. “So I talked to Nat a bit and read the notes you sent so I did a few sketches. Some are more simple than others, just look and see what you like and I can make tweaks.” He slides a sketchbook across the table as I sit down. I flip through it gently admiring the sketches. There were flowers, books, even a bicycle but none of those caught my eye. It was the very last sketch that I knew was it.
“It’s a-“ “Seraphim” I finished, interrupting him in my excitement. “Sorry,” I apologize, embarrassed that I just blurted it out. “No no it’s okay I'm just happy you recognized what it was,” Steve reassures me. “It’s gorgeous, what placement do you think would be best?” I trace my fingers over the lines utterly in love with the image. “It’d make a pretty awesome back piece. I could really let it take up the room it deserves but it would take more than one appointment.” He says this hesitantly as if not wanting to force me into a commitment.
“I don't mind if you don't?” I tell him, seeing his face would be a bonus to go along with the tattoo. It was like a free art viewing just being in his presence. “Sounds like we've got a deal Angel.” His hand is warm when I shake it. “Clint will talk about billing later but I'm not worried about it. We can start today if you'd like? I just have to get a stencil going.” I nod happily. “That sounds good, thank you Steve.” “Anytime sweetheart”
I end up sitting/laying on the tattoo chair, my unclasped bra being the only thing reserving my dignity. Steve gently applies the stencil to my back. “Alright Angel this isn't gonna be horrible but it ain't gonna be pleasant either so let me know if you need a break. I'm sure you'll do good.” His Brooklynn accent comes out a bit thicker than usual. “Alright” I prepare myself for the buzzing and the pain but once the needle touches my skin it’s actually not the worst.
“So you from around here Sweetheart?” I laugh but try and keep it restrained because of the needle on my back. “No, I'm from a tiny town in Vermont up near Canada. I ran to New York the moment I turned 18. How about you? Brooklyn right? “Born and bred a couple blocks from here. Vermont has the leaves thing right?” I chuckle. “Yeah, leaf peeping when all the tourists come in. My Dad always hated it, he said if they were coming to see God’s handiwork they could bother to come into God’s house. He's a priest so..”
Steve sucks air in through his teeth. “I understand must've been tough with a priest as your old man.” “You could definitely say that. He was more into God’s wrath than his love and forgiveness,” My voice comes out smaller and sadder than I mean it to. Steve’s voice darkens. “I’d like to show him some of my wrath” It was aggressive but it warmed my heart. “I think I'd like to see that,” I laugh. “Just say the word doll, can’t waste all this military training just cause I'm discharged.
“Special Forces right?” I can't see but I think he nods. “105th infantry then special forces. We were up in all the Europe Russia shit before it exploded up there.” “Thank you, really” “Eh just doin my part to fix the shitty system Doll. I think we're at a good stopping point. I'll get you all cleaned up here.” He sanitizers the area again and leaves me to get dressed. I throw my top back on but before I look at the progress on my back. It's gorgeous.
When I walk out Steve is at the front desk with Clint. “Hey Angel, I see Nat finally convinced you to get tatted.” I smile. “Yep she wore me down, how are Laura and the kids?” “Good, the boys are growing like weeds. Lila's getting college mail. She’s sixteen I feel like I’ll blink and she’ll be 21” I smile sympathetically. “Well the only one that’s turning 21 is Angellll!” Kate Clint’s niece singsongs walking out from the back carrying a box of cleaning supplies.
I groan. “You guys promised not to make a big deal of it.” Steve raises an eyebrow. Nat who was sitting silently in the corner grins. “Angel likes to think that her birthday doesn’t deserve a big fuss but if it’s up to anyone at this shop it’s gonna be a big deal and it’s gonna be on Saturday.” I glare at Nat. “You said just drinks.” She walks over, putting her arm around me. “I said there’d be drinks not that’d it be just drinks” I sigh and turn to Steve. “Well then if you’d like to join the madness you’re invited” “It’s a date” he replies.
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vaniladraws16 · 1 year
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Natasha entered the shop and was about to start her shift when Wanda Maximoff came out the back and finished her customer.
"Hey, Nat there's a gift for you," Wanda said pointing at the gift.
A bouquet of flowers on top of the desk filled with red roses, tulips, and peonies.
She walked towards them to get a better look and picked them up and smelled them, they were fresh.
A note came with it so she pick it up and read what it said: "I'm sorry I missed you're birthday so late."
-S.R
A sigh came out of her mouth knowing who S.R. is. Stephanie Rogers new owner of the flower shop next door.
Ever since she owns the place she and Natasha got along with each other very well despite looking different and growing a friendship and slowly making a relationship of becoming well girlfriends.
But Stephanie forget about Natasha's birthday on the third of December and she forgot because she was out of town to visit her mother until Stephanie mentions Natasha to her mother and then remembers it to later find out her birthday has passed.
Nat has already forgiven her but Stephanie has not forgiven herself because of it, first thing when it comes to being lovers is never forgetting their birthday and she fails.
"Wands I'm going next door k?" Natasha said "All right." Wanda said as she headed to Rogers's flowers and entered the place.
Stephanie is working with a customer. "Thank you and come again, next" and Natasha came to the front desk. "Hey, flowers."
"Nat? I thought you were working?" she questions "I was until Wanda told me there were some flowers for me."
"Well do you like them?" "I love them and I forgive you I know how you're mother means to you and busy you were and I didn't want to pressure you that much."
"Still I feel bad forgetting it and my ma even scolded me forgetting for it," Stephanie said.
"Well don't you're ma is you're only family member you have left."
"But-" "No buts young lady all I want to know is how're my flowers visit today," Natasha said bringing a kiss to Stephanie's lips.
So they change the subject to Stephanie's visit and enjoyed there time together.
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I feel like 'tattoo artist' is the one profession that fits pre-war Steve's interests, class, and hometown.
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marvellous1917 · 8 months
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Icarus Falling Far.
(Part 3)
Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader
Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.
Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.
Word count: 3.6k ish
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A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘
(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)
Part 2 ⬇️:
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Bold is readers thoughts
Italics is Bucky's thoughts
This starts in Bucky’s POV.
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His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}
But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.
A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.
“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.
The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.
“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.
Today was a stressful fucking day.
It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.
“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.
“Yeah.”
“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.
“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.
I hate that fuckin smile.
He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.
“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.
“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.
“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.
“Alright.”
“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.
I hate it when you do that.
Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”
“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”
“Anybody looking for him?”
“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”
“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.
Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.
“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.
“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”
“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”
“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.
“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”
“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.
“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.
“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?
“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”
Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.
“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.
“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.
That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.
“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.
Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.
“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“
“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.
“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.
“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”
“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.
Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.
“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”
“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.
“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.
“…of?”
“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.
Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.
“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.
He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.
Fuck. Shit.
The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.
“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.
“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.
The one I’m obsessed with.
When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.
“Shit.” He says under his breath.
“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.
“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.
Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.
No. No no fuck. Not her.
The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.
Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.
“…this was taken this morning.”
“..yeah.”
fuck.
———————
Fuck Bucky Barnes.
The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.
Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.
Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.
You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.
“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.
“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.
“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.
“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.
He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.
“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.
“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.
“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.
He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.
“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.
God-fucking-dammit Frank.
Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.
“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.
“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”
“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.
Shit, how does he know?
“-what?”
“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.
“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.
“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”
Ahh fuck.
“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.
“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.
“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.
“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.
“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.
“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.
“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.
“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“
“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.
You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.
“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.
Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.
“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.
“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.
“Is that him?” Curtis asks.
“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.
He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.
Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.
“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.
“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.
“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”
His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.
“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.
Oh my god.
“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.
He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”
“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.
“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.
Why does he have to be so sweet.
You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.
“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.
His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.
You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.
“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.
-(Bucky’s P.O.V)
Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.
The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.
The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.
The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.
“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.
“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.
“Frank please-”
“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”
“Billy-”
“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.
“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.
You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.
The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.
“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.
“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.
“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.
The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.
“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.
The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.
“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.
The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.
“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.
“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.
Then how the fuck do they know.
“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.
He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.
“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.
“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.
It was them. But that means…
“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.
Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.
“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.
“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.
Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.
————
Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.
Lemme know what u think 😘
Tagged :
@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp
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navybrat817 · 8 months
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Sin on Skin AU
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Pairings: Various men with female readers. ❤️
AU Summary: Sin on Skin is the hottest tattoo parlor in town and the men who run it live up to the name. And as luck would have it, they only have eyes for you. 🔥
AU Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (m. and f. receiving), dirty talk, fluff, flirting, feels, slowish burn (depending on the couple), slight angst, porn with feels (it's me, lovelies), more to be added.
A/N: You lovelies know me by now! I hope you all enjoy this AU and the various pairings. Please heed the warnings before each post and I will update as time allows. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics . Tattoo edits by the talented Nix and the "Andy" edit by the amazing @randomagnes0210 . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky Barnes x Baker!Reader - Hottie and Sugar
🧁 Sugar and Spice
🧁 And Everything Nice
🧁 What Dreams Are Made Of
🧁 Sweet and Strong
🧁 Sundresses and Leather
🧁 Innocent and Sinful
🧁 Ladies and Gentleman
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🧁 Rules and Chaos
🧁 Traditions and Innovation
Steve Rogers x Teacher!Reader - Thorn and Rose
🌹 Every Rose Has Its Thorn
🌹 By Any Other Name
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Andy Barber x Reader - Grumpy and Sunny
☀️ A Sunny Outlook
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Hal Carter x Reader - Menace and Angel
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Jake Jensen x Reader
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Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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rookthorne · 7 months
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐤
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Fairy Tales and stories always had one ending, that the prince would find his princess and all would be well; a masterful, happily ever after. You had never believed that would be you, not in your wildest dreams. Until the day that two knights in inked armour walked through the door of your castle and made themselves at home in your heart.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖠺 Tattoo Artist!CW!Bucky Barnes x Florist!F!Reader x Tattoo Artist!Nomad!Steve Rogers
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𖠺 6.7k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𖠺 Fluff, light show of dom/sub
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𖠺 I sincerely blame my hype squad for this, but a very special thank you to SC for her genius mind for helping me build this world, and to @sebstanwhore for putting up with my screaming about it constantly. 𖠺 This is officially my longest published fic as of September 2023!
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 𖠺 So This Is Love by Ilene Woods, Mike Douglas 𖠺 I See The Light by Mandy Moore, Zachary Levi
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 𖠺 @smutconnoisseur
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𖠺 @stuckybingo 𝗚𝟰 — Tattoo Shop AU (September Adoptable) — Masterlist 𖠺 @allcapsbingo 𝗕𝟰 — Old Married Couple — Masterlist 𖠺 @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗕𝟭 — Florist AU — Masterlist 𖠺 @mcukinkbingo 𝗚𝟱 — Poly Relationship Negotiation — Masterlist
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𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Sunlight streamed through the window as you stood behind the shop counter. It was a bright, clear day, and the possibilities that a new day could bring excited you. 
The perfume of freshly bloomed buds and bouquets filled your senses, each petal of the flowers that surrounded you just as pretty as the last. Walking into the place you built from the ground up since botany had run in your blood for generations. The love for floristry, specifically, had been passed down from your mother, then her mother before her, and her mother before her. 
As a child, with their guidance, you grew up with such kindness and compassion for all flora and fauna, and you were an avid daydreamer. 
Your daydreams of fairy tales, of wonder and love through the petals and veins of the ages, was how you came to affectionately name your haven and shop Fantasy Floristry. 
Lanterns softly lit the way between the rows of bouquets and arrangements in the shadier corners of your store, and the walls, which were devoid of shelves with bouquets, were covered with pencil drawings of fantasy creatures and characters from many Disney movies – all signed by a local artist. That of which, was you. 
It was a slow morning, customers sparse and fairly few between. Which, in itself, was never unusual, and afforded you the opportunity to potter about. Each bud you passed had a loving caress and gentle touch before they were spritzed with a soft spray of water, and you hummed along to the music playing over the speakers, a classic, timeless Disney tune.
You smiled as you looked upon the shelves fit to burst with blooms – each bunch set to a theme of a movie. Red and yellow matched with a brown ribbon for Simba and his mane, black and white with a red ribbon for Patch and his collar, and your most popular theme, one for Rapunzel; purple and yellow, with a gold ribbon to tie it in. 
The chime of the doorbell sounded at the front of the store, and you looked up just in time to see your best friend and employee walk in, steaming to-go cups in hand. “Late again,” you scolded, and she smiled sheepishly. 
“I brought us coffees to make up for it, darling,” Wanda simpered, holding out one of the coffees and a small brown bag. “And I bought you a bagel. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”
You rolled your eyes and took the coffee. “Thanks, Wands.”
“I’ll be out back,” Wanda called as she strode to the cool room. “See you later!” 
Things progressed as usual after that – customers came and went with bright smiles as they left with small or big bouquets. 
You were behind the counter working away on the store’s social media when the bell chimed loudly, followed by two sets of heavy footfalls and low voices. “She’s off with Ma, you know that, punk,” one of them said, almost as though they were exasperated. “It’ll be nice for them to come back to something, don’t you think?”
“Alright, alright,” the other voice replied placatingly. The door closed behind the newcomers with another chime, and their boots thumped quietly over the tiled floor. “Which do you think- Oh, wow. They’re beautiful.”
You looked up from your phone just in time to see two men approaching, only they had stopped at the Rapunzel and Simba bouquets, the blond one of the two pointing at the purple roses and yellow lilies. His other hand… was holding the other’s – interlocked so their tattoos aligned, and a wedding band shone brightly on his ring finger. 
They were beautiful – far more so than any bouquet you could imagine or conjure. The blond was broad and lithe, his long hair swept back and beard neatly trimmed. A black plaid shirt covered his frame, and the top two buttons were undone, revealing coloured ink creeping up his collarbones. A bright, intricate yellow sunflower was tattooed along the contours of his neck, from the back to the front of the pale skin.
It seemed to match the other man’s, who, in place of a sunflower, had a bunch of purple daisies arranged in a loosely assembled heart. His hair was dark and long, down to the top of his shoulders, and he was bigger, broader than the blond man, though they stood at the same height. His skin was covered in ink – visible under the rolled up sleeves and open collar of his navy henley. 
“Oh, lord,” you whispered, blinking rapidly to try and discern if you were dreaming. 
You were, in fact, not dreaming. 
The dark-haired man looked up at the counter and sent you a charming grin, pointing at the flowers himself. “Did you do these?” 
Don’t make a fool of yourself, you chastised silently. “Yeah, they–yeah, I did them,” you stammered in reply. 
“They’re stunning,” the blond offered, awestruck. “You’ve done an amazing job, doll.”
The two men walked to the counter, hands still interlocked as they neared, and you gulped – they were married, keep it together. 
“I’m Steve,” the blond said happily, holding his hand out to shake, which you accepted politely, with an added bonus of being able to look at his tattoos. “And this is my husband, Bucky.” He pointed at the dark-haired man who also offered his hand, only he brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles – just like a prince would. Your stomach and heart swooped at the gesture when Steve continued, “We own the tattoo shop next door.”
“Oh!” you chirped, immediately cringing internally. You offered your name, then, “I’ve seen the art in the windows, and it’s all so beautiful. Have you been here long? I know I’ve only recently set up shop, but business has been so busy I haven’t had a chance to come and say hello.”
Bucky grinned. “Too long, we would say,” he chuckled and glanced at Steve. “We saw you set up shop back when you moved in, and I have to say, we were very intrigued.” Both men looked around your store before their focus was back on you. “It’s a beautiful set up, nice ‘n cosy.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, shy but proud. 
Steve smirked and nodded to the display of Rapunzel flowers. “What would a professional recommend for two hovering mother hens–just to remind them that we love ‘em.”
“Oh, that is so sweet,” you rushed before you could clamp your jaw shut, and Bucky snorted. “What? What’s so wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Bucky rushed, still grinning. “It’s just–if you met them, you wouldn’t be saying that.”
A loud smack sounded as Steve slapped Bucky’s shoulder and shoved him away. “Stop being such an ungrateful son, honey,” he teased as Bucky rolled his eyes. 
“Anyway,” you said haltingly, making your way around the counter. More to yourself, you mumbled, “You can do this, it’s fine, they’re just handsome men, keep it together.” 
Coming to a stop at the far corner, you stopped and watched both of them as they bickered, much like an old married couple, “You know Ma would like that more. She likes teddies and shit-” Bucky emphasised, but Steve raised a brow. 
“You’re telling me that you want to shell out for a damn bear–well, aren’t you son of the year,” Steve teased, staring at the shelf full of small, soft stuffies. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh, now he agrees with me-” Bucky was cut off by Steve’s hand, who covered his mouth and held his thumb under his chin to keep his mouth shut. The display made your lips part in surprise, though it went unnoticed. Bucky’s brows furrowed, and it looked as though he was pouting. You made out a muffled but determined huff of, “Lemme go.”
“Do as you’re told then, boy,” Steve whispered harshly. 
Internally, you were screaming at the show of intimacy – albeit restrained, and you couldn’t help the shiver that crawled up your spine at the sound of Steve’s command. You shook your head and cleared your throat to get their attention. 
Both of their gazes snapped towards you as though they had forgotten where they were. “D-Do you still want–want help?” you stuttered. 
“Yes, please, doll,” Steve said happily, and he wandered over. Bucky followed soon after and rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, wrapping his arms from behind – the creak of leather made you look down to see Bucky on his toes to have the slight height advantage. 
You realised a second too late that you were still staring at them because they chuckled and winked at you when you glanced back up at their faces.  
A sudden shyness blanketed your mind at their undivided attention, but you pushed through the murky waters of confused intrigue and desire – the latter a shock to your system. “So, we have these, especially for motherly bouquets,” you explained, pointing at the purple, pink, and yellow hues of petals. “Otherwise…”
The tour of the shop was an eventful encounter. Both men were enraptured and entranced by the beauty of the flowers, and each compliment to any arrangement made your heart soar with pride. It was only when you made it back to the Disney themed arrangements did Steve’s eyes light up. 
“Mom would love these,” he breathed, gently brushing the petals of a yellow lily before doing the same to a purple rose. “She loves this movie. It’s a job to convince her to watch anything else.”
You giggled and nodded in agreement. “I have to say it’s one of my favourites, too. So beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said suddenly, and you looked at him. He was already staring at you. “Really beautiful.”
The humming of Ilene Woods came over the speaker at that moment: “So this is love, so this is what makes life divine.” Steve nodded in agreement and looked at you with a fond smile.
It was surreal, and it was all you could do to hold in a squeak of shock. On autopilot, while you recovered from such an insinuation, you blurted quickly, “I saw the tattoos on your necks. What do they mean? They’re so beautiful, and I adore them.”
“Oh, these?” Bucky pointed at his and then Steve’s, the flower tattoos bright in the sunlight from the window. “My Ma loves purple daisies, loved ‘em since she was young. I always bring her some each time I visit, and since she and Steve’s Mom are best friends, it’s only natural that this punk has to get Sarah some of her own. Don’t want him lookin’ like the bad son, after all.”
Steve shoved Bucky off and sighed heavily. “Yeah, shut it, jerk.” He rubbed at the tattoo, smiling absently. “Mom loves sunflowers. Dad used to get her a bunch every Friday night.”
You smiled softly at his words, feeling the pain of them. “That’s beautiful, Steve.” Bucky’s hand found Steve’s, and you saw him squeeze once. “Would you like two Rapunzel bouquets, then? I can add a sunflower and a daisy to each at no charge–I want to make your mothers smile. They deserve it.”
“Sweetheart, we can’t ask you to do that,” Bucky interjected. Steve hummed an ascension as you grabbed a bouquet. “Seriously. Your arrangements are stunning. We can’t ask for anymore.”
“You’re not asking,” you whispered quietly, looking at the bouquet in your arms. The beat of your heart thundered as you wondered if what you were about to say would spook them off, but their presence had flourished something inside of you – a boisterous and courageous thing. “I am offering, and I want those who leave my shop to be happy, to smile. If I can do that for your mothers too? You bet I will.”
You turned your back and walked towards the counter, entirely missing the look Bucky and Steve shared – one of adoration and affection.
The bouquet sat proudly on the counter as you turned to grab the next one, when you gasped in shock. Bucky had grabbed the second one, while Steve had picked up one of the largest and most expensive arrangements. 
“Oh, Steve! Bucky, wait, I-”
“Nope,” Bucky cut in, and he placed the Rapunzel bouquet down next to the other one. Then he turned to Steve to help him lift the bigger arrangement onto the counter. “How about this–would you make us something for our shop? We want something on the front desk. This big one,” he pointed to the elaborate piece, “is going in our home–away from Alpine.”
“Alpine?” you quizzed. Steve nodded, and Bucky pulled out his phone before turning the screen to you – a photo of a fluffy white cat with piercing blue eyes as his lock screen. “They are beautiful!”
“She’s an attention whore, but she’s our baby,” Bucky said fondly, a small smile on his lips. He looked up at you and that smile morphed into a grin. “Now, how ‘bout it, sweetheart?”
You blinked. “Sorry?”
“The arrangement for our shop, doll,” Steve answered, and you started – how had you forgotten that?
“Right!” you rushed, flustered. They watched you, but their gazes were gentle, almost coaxing. “Sure–I, uh, I can do that for sure. When do you need it by?” Your trusty paper pad and pen felt comforting in your hands, and you looked between them expectantly. 
They shared a look, and then Steve spoke up, “Are you busy now, honey?”
Mentally, you catalogued the tasks for the day. There were no urgent appointments to meet nor any commissions, and Wanda was around… “No, I am–I am free, today, that is.” You cursed the softness of your voice. They’d see your shyness, your absurd ability to become flustered with the slightest push. 
Bucky grinned and then winked. “Perfect, why don’t we take you to the shop? See how quick our clever girl can whip something up.”
By heaven and earth, how you were unprepared for such a statement. Your mouth opened and closed as the words settled in the cogs of your brain, jamming them with the assurance  and praise. 
“That’s a good idea, doll. You can get a sense for the colours and contrasts.” Steve turned to you more fully. “We can walk you back–do you have someone to watch the store…?”
“Yeah–I, there’s-” You squeaked, gesturing over your shoulder. “I’ll just- Um, go get her.”
The back cooler room couldn’t have been further away at that moment. You rushed towards it, arm outstretched when you heard Steve whisper behind you, “She’s so sweet, don’t you think?”
“She is,” Bucky agreed easily. The words made your heart thump, and you didn’t linger, pushing open the door to the blast of the cool back room air.  
“There you are-” Wanda greeted, but she fell short.
You shut the door and rested against it, holding a hand over your hammering heart.
“What the–? Are you alright?” she hurriedly asked, her face pulled taut and brows furrowed. “You look like you’ve… Wait, are you-”
“I need you to watch the shop for me,” you barrelled, breathing deeply in an effort to calm your racing heart. “Please–just look.” The door creaked open to reveal a slither of the front counter where Bucky and Steve stood, conversing and looking around the store. “They want me to make a–a bouquet for their shop, the tattoo–?”
“Oh, babe,” Wanda whispered, pushing the door closed gently. There was an impish smile curling her lips. “Go on, I’ve got this. If you don’t come back tonight, I’ll close up.”
“What do you mean not come back–?” You stared at her, unable to comprehend her secret, double meaning. 
“Don’t you worry, sweet summer child,” she said, winking. “I’ll see you later.”
Before you could protest or question why everyone kept winking at you, Wanda had undone the bow of your apron, whisked it off of your uniform, and forced you out the door ahead of her. 
“There she is!” Bucky called, his signature grin curling his lips. “Are you set to go?”
Wanda stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, and she surreptitiously pushed you closer to the counter. She had that same coy smirk on her lips. Both Bucky and Steve waved and greeted her. “Just take care of my girl–she’s going to make you the best arrangement,” Wanda said. 
“We will,” Steve assured, and he pulled out his wallet. “I’ll pay for these now, ladies.”
After completing the transaction for the two bouquets and singular larger arrangement, Wanda’s hand found your back, and she forced you forward, closer to Bucky. “See you three later.”
Steve saluted and walked forward, and you followed, your footsteps quick compared to the heavy boot falls of your companions. As you walked behind Steve, Bucky pointed up to a canvas on the wall – a scene painted straight from the movie Tangled, the beautiful soft hues of yellow and gold of the lanterns in the sky. “Who did this?”
“A local artist,” you whispered, glancing between the canvas and Bucky. “She sells her work here–I wanted to help an old friend.”
Bucky stepped closer to the canvas, and by doing so, he stood right next to you. The smell of his cologne and close proximity made your heart skip a beat – even his voice sounded deeper this close. “Whoever she is, she’s very talented. Pass that on for us, yeah?”
“Okay,” you squeaked, and you cleared your throat. “Yeah, I- I will pass that on for you. She would appreciate it.”
“I would be tempted to hire her,” Steve said quietly, voice awestruck. “Her colour work and ability to capture the moment is beautiful. She has a gift.”
Do not faint, you repeated in a mantra.
“Alright, c’mon,” Bucky urged. “Let’s take our Petal to the shop, or we’ll never leave.”
“Petal?” you whispered, and Bucky rested his hand on your lower back, gently encouraging you forward. 
“Yeah, that’s you,” he said softly. “Precious and pretty–jus’ like a petal of a flower.”
The outside air was a reprieve from the stifling tension of your shop, and Steve turned around and looked at you, then Bucky, and he slowed to walk beside you – opposite to Bucky. You were walking between them, and could not calm your heart’s thunderous beat. 
It was a short walk, but nonetheless, it left an impression. People had hastened to move out of your way as you walked between the two men, both brooding and you had guessed intimidating – if the shocked and double-takes of all passers by were anything to go by. 
A dark brick building came into view – black awnings and dark accents made it feel rustic, paired with the striking art on the windows of a star and a set of wings set just below the artistic calligraphy of Quartet’s Tattoo. 
“Here we are,” Steve said, gesturing at the front door. “Come on in, Petal–Buck, babe, you picked a nice one. I love the way it sounds.”
“What?” you sputtered. “I-”
‘Yeah,” Bucky breathed, then slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. His lips were suddenly on your temple, a soft kiss that left you reeling. “I agree.”
The door, artfully carved with more stars and in place of wings were skulls, opened with a creak to reveal a dark and moody waiting area. Wooden beams were visible over the ceiling where lights with black shades hung in increments, and designs were all over the walls, each as intricate as the last. Dark slats of wood lined the floor until they reached an open space towards the back of the shop where you guessed the booths were situated. 
“Take a seat, sweetheart,” Bucky said, pointing to a black leather couch that seated three, a glass table in front of it. “Do you want a drink–?”
“Water, please,” you replied, sitting down. You suspected you’d need something stronger to dull the nerves, but you refrained from mentioning that aloud. “This is beautiful.” 
Art was everywhere, in every nook and cranny. You could see four booths, and managed a peak at the names lining the walls – Steve, ‘Cap’; Bucky, ‘Sarge’; Nat, ‘Widow’; Sam, ‘Falcon’.
“Thanks, doll,” Steve said happily, and he took the seat opposite you. “It’s our pride and joy.”
Bucky appeared with a glass of water and sat on the other end of the couch, tucking his leg up so he could face you. It was silent for a moment as you took the space in. Choices flooded your mind the more you stared around – reds and burgundies to compliment the dark stained wood, but then, whites and yellows would contrast against the deep, rich hues of the mahogany.
You blinked and looked back at Bucky and Steve, only they were already watching you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you breathed, smiling nervously as you placed the glass of water on a coaster on the table. “I- I was just looking so I could, um, get a feel for the arrangement for you.”
“Oh yeah? And what are you thinking?” Bucky asked, his tone teasing. 
Frowning slightly, deep in thought, you looked around the shop once more before finally settling on the reception desk. 
The wood was stained dark, like the rest of the shop, but the accents of lightened, bleached knots and ridges caught your attention. Whites and yellows would bring that to light, and then, a fiery arrangement for the glass coffee table… “Uh- Well, I have two ideas,” you began. 
Both Bucky and Steve raised their brows, and placed their drinks on the table. Steve leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and letting his hands fall between his thighs. Bucky, back still against the arm of the couch, leaned against it and put a heavily tattooed arm over the back of it. 
“Let’s hear it then,” Bucky said, his grey eyes bright with curiosity. “What’s our clever girl imagined?”
“Let her talk, Buck,” Steve chastised. 
You took a deep breath and fought against the urge to run and hide – it was strange to feel so safe and attended to by these two strangers, but they had done nothing to warrant suspicion, at least, not that you had thought. 
“Well,” you began, fidgeting in your seat as you nodded to the reception desk. “I thought a lighter arrangement would work. See how the wood is stained dark, but there are lighter streaks and knots?” You pointed at the spots you could see from your vantage point. “Whites and yellows would soften the–I think saturation is the right word?”
There was an affirming hum from one of them, and you continued. “Then it would make the entry feel lighter, as the room feels broody–it isn’t a bad thing,” you rushed to assure, looking at the two men with wide eyes. “The space is beautiful, and I love it–just, some softness might brighten it a bit.”
“Huh, you’re right, doll,” Steve considered, his hand now rubbing his chin as he stared at the desk. “I think we’d do better–maybe attract more clients. What do you think, babe?”
“It would work well, yeah,” Bucky agreed. 
He shifted closer, almost imperceptibly, but your keen, anxious senses saw it immediately. What frightened you more was the fact you were not scared of it. The thought of him being close made your body heat up from some depth that had been untouched. They were married, you intoned. They were married to one another, no less. 
“What would be even better, though,” Bucky continued, his tone impish. “Is if you told us the second idea.”
“Oranges and reds–fiery colours to bring attention to the mahogany wood and dark stain,” you said in one breath. Nerves had started to make your stomach roil and flutter with butterflies. As you stared at your hands while breathing shallowly, a tattooed hand rested over your fingers, effectively stopping your bad habit of picking at the skin. “I-”
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Bucky said quietly, squeezing your hands. “You’re alright. It’s cute that you're so shy, but trust us, you’re okay. If we are comin’ on too strong for you, we will stop.”
The world stopped. Time froze, your place in the expansive universe suddenly too much to comprehend. “Coming on too strong–?” you asked hoarsely, unable to take in the words. “Are you- You two are flirting with me?”
There was a chuckle from the seat across from you, and you looked at Steve sharply. A bright smile was on his face, one of which conveyed affection, not patronisation. “Yeah, we are, doll. Do you want us to stop?”
You blinked, looked at Bucky, then back to Steve. “But you’re married!”
“We are, happily so,” Bucky said, and he took his hand away. You suddenly missed the warmth of it. “And we know what we want. We were in your shop today for more than just flowers, sweetheart. I wasn’t lying when I said we’ve been curious–a pretty Petal like you, clever and downright beautiful, both generous and kind… Well, we were intrigued.”
The words flushed your system and left you hollow with shock, akin to an overwhelming giddiness. “I don’t understand,” you breathed, staring at Bucky. “You want- What do you want?”
“We want to take you on a date. If you are interested, and want to,” Bucky offered gently. “You can say no, and we won’t think any different of you, don’t you worry ‘bout that. Like hell would we skip on your skills as a florist, and we’d still be friends. If you wanted to be, of course.”
“A date?” 
“A date,” Steve affirmed. “We know polyamorous relationships aren’t everyone’s cup of tea-” 
Bucky snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You sound ridiculous saying that, Stevie.”
“Shut up, punk,” Steve sighed. Then he looked at you again. “As I was saying, yes, it’s not everyone’s favourite. We just- We became smitten with you, doll. So, if you would be interested, we’d like to take you on a date.”
“Oh.” 
The world, still tilted on its axis, started spinning once more, taking your insides with it as it moved. You blinked rapidly, and your hands curled and relaxed on your knees. 
Truly, the offer didn’t scare you, per se. It was the reality shaking thought that not one, but two men found you intriguing enough that they wanted to take you out on a date–a traditional date.
A truly old fashioned notion, you thought. 
Their presence seemed to bring out your reckless, wild side, and you took a deep breath. They said they would still care for you as a friend, even if you said no, and it comforted your heart and screaming, anxious mind. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Bucky asked, brow raised. “Do you want some time-”
“I’ll go on a date with you two,” you interrupted before you could stop yourself. “I would love that.”
Bucky beamed at you while Steve rose from his seat to lean down and kiss the crown of your head. “Perfect, doll. Why don’t you do both of your ideas, and we can pick ‘em up when you’re done?”
Feeling emboldened, you grinned up at Steve and then at Bucky. “I will have them done in a few hours. Walk me back?”
“You heard the lady,” Bucky murmured, his eyes slightly wide at your eagerness. “Someone’s excited to get to work.”
“Well, you have me motivated,” you explained with a shrug and a shy smile. “I won’t let you two down.”
Steve shook his head and helped you up before leading you to the door. “You could never let us down, honey–remember that.” 
The two of them walked you back to your shop, opening and holding the door for you. “Such gentlemen,” you teased quietly. They only winked. 
“There you are,” Wanda called happily as she rounded the counter to greet you. “Have you organised a theme?”
“Two,” you supplied, chipper. Wanda’s brows raised at your enthusiasm. “I’m going to be doing a light arrangement and a fiery toned one, too. It’ll set the colours off nicely, I think.” 
Wanda nodded and grabbed your hand. “You’re the expert,” she said, leading you towards the cooler room. “See you boys later!”
“No, wait,” you rushed, looking back at Steve and Bucky as you pulled away from Wanda’s grip. “Can–can I have your number? So I can text you when they’re done–?”
The smiles on their faces could have made the toughest rose bloom, you swore. Once their numbers were in your phone, they walked from the store, arrangements in hand for their mothers. 
As you worked on the bouquets while Wanda minded the store, you thought long and hard about their proposition. They were grown men. It was not like you were dealing with the decisions and minds of growing boys – marriage was a big deal, and opening it to a stranger was even more risky. Did they truly want to risk all of what they had built? 
Thoughts spiralled, and your mind whirled with all the possibilities – rational thought long cast out of the equation. Until, “You keep pulling a face like that, babe, and it’ll get stuck.”
You looked up to see Wanda standing in the doorway, hair tied up and a soft, kind smile on her face. Her eyes were bright, glinting in the way that told you she knew something was amiss. “What’s got you all tied up, love?”
The stem of the rose was smooth against your fingers, and you considered the thorns that adorned it – helpfully comparing it to your current predicament. “I just, I don’t know. It seems so sudden–doesn’t it? Them just waltzing in here–”
“Hold on.” Wanda glanced back to the store and then stepped into the room, her arms crossed over her chest. “You will not second guess this. I have seen those two make heart eyes at you for the longest time.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, astonished. 
“I meant what I said,” Wanda said a little too easily, and she shrugged. “Have you not seen how those puppies look for you as they walk by the store window almost every single day?”
Your mouth parted in shock. Had they? “No…”
Wanda shook her head slowly, a slow smile pulling the corner of her lips up. It wasn’t a condescending expression, but rather, one of an older sister who cared beyond words for the one they loved. “Babe, you… You have to give this a shot. Give them a chance. I do not know them well, but I know they are kind, and gentle–gentle giants, if you will.” 
A strong feeling of ease settled in your gut and over your mind, cancelling out the cacophony of nerves that screamed and pitched their fits. If Wanda, the one you trusted the most, could see something, maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it. 
You looked at the bouquets before you, one of angelic and pure white to sunny, happy yellow; the other bright, cheerful orange and fiery, passionate red. It was symbolistic of the clash in your mind; resemblances to the possible opportunities. White for the softness of your soul, and reds to Bucky and Steve’s desire. 
“Alright,” you said aloud, voice firm and unwavering. “I’ll do it. I- I want this.”
Wanda grinned, a blindingly prideful smile. “‘Atta girl. Now, get to it!”
A few hours later, as the sun had started to begin its descent, you stood in the back room of your shop filled with awe. The bouquets had turned out perfect – each petal and leaf in place. You snapped a few photos with your phone and then sent a text to Bucky’s number, asking if they would come around after they closed up. 
Your ringtone made you jump in place, and Bucky’s name flashed across the screen. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky greeted, the low hum of a tattoo machine in the background with the lull of quiet music. “Did you finish the flowers?”
“Yeah, I- I did, do you think you could–?”
There was a huff of breath, a chuckle, and then a sudden yell of “Babe!” before another voice came through the speaker. 
“We’ll be round in about twenty minutes–that okay, doll?” Steve asked.
“That’s perfect,” you replied, looking at the clock. “I’ll be here–I’ll close up, so just knock when you get here.”
“Alright, see you soon.” The line clicked, and you put your phone back in your pocket. 
Closing the shop went quickly, and after you had said goodnight to Wanda, you were on your own in the office, waiting as the minutes went by until you heard a knock on the store’s door. “Coming!” 
Steve and Bucky were waiting on the sidewalk, huddled in coats as they watched you walk to the door. “Hey, come in, come in,” you rushed, stepping aside. “Thank you for coming and picking them up so late.”
“It’s nothin’, sweetheart,” Bucky yawned. “If we’re honest–we wanted to see you before we headed home.”
You smiled and looked at the floor, unable to look him in the eye after such sincerity. There was suddenly a hand gripping your chin gently, and you automatically moved in tandem with it until you were staring into Steve’s handsome face. “That we did.”
Blinking rapidly, you pulled back with a shaky laugh. “Did you guys have a good rest of your day?”
“Yeah,” Steve answered, looking around happily. “Normal shit with walk-ins and then we got started on a back piece. Poor bastard had to tap out.”
“We warned him.” Bucky shrugged. “Not like the poor fool didn’t know what he was gettin’ into. Anyway–how about those flowers?”
You led the two of them to the counter, where you heard two sharp intakes of breath as the arrangements came into view. They were extraordinary, and you had gone above and beyond for them – using flowers and buds that were yet to bloom to fill the spaces, each and every one placed with care and consideration. All of the colours complimented; a true masterpiece. 
“Holy shit,” Steve gasped, and Bucky rushed forward to look at the bundles closer. “Petal– look at them!”
“You are amazing,” Bucky said quietly, his fingers brushing the petals of a white rose. “Absolutely fuckin’ amazing, look at this. You did this.”
“Oh, my gosh,” you whispered, hiding behind your hands. “It’s just two bouquets-”
Steve looked at you, aghast. “No.” 
Both of them stepped towards you, and the next thing you knew, you were between them, squished to their chests and their arms around you. “Don’t you dare discount yourself, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured. “Be proud of yourself–it’s not a bad thing to be proud of what you create. And what you created is fuckin’ stunning.”
Many emotions swirled through your mind until you sniffled, pushing back against the burn of tears in your eyes. “O-Okay, thank you,” you whispered. Steve pulled away from the embrace to look at the flowers again, his face slack with awe, and Bucky held you tighter to his chest.
You felt a kiss at your temple suddenly. “Don’t you listen to those voices, alright? We’re louder and you’re gonna learn to love what you do, no matter what.” Unable to answer, you just nodded jerkily, wiping your eyes. Bucky’s thumb brushed your cheek, and he smiled softly as he pulled back. 
“Why don’t we get dinner?” Steve asked suddenly, and you looked at him. “This isn’t our date, Petal, don’t you worry. Let’s just get dinner. How do you get home–drive, walk?”
“I walk-” You tried, but Steve shook his head. 
“Not anymore, can’t have our Petal walking home on your own, okay?”
Ordinarily, you would have grimaced and grumbled at the commanding nature of such a statement, but somehow, this didn’t feel out of place. They cared, they just wanted you safe, you reasoned. “Okay, but Wanda normally walks with me, so–”
“That’s fine, we’ve got you both,” Bucky said simply, as though giving you both a lift was, in fact, not a big deal. 
“If you’re sure,” you said quietly, and Bucky squeezed your shoulder.
“Let’s go, I’m starved,” Steve said loudly, almost obnoxiously. Bucky rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. “Don’t start with me, babe. You know how I get when I’m hungry.”
Bucky looked at you. “Yeah, he becomes more of a pain in my ass.”
“Literally,” Steve chortled, and you gasped in quiet shock as Bucky hit Steve on the shoulder.
“We are in polite company, you fucker!” Bucky shoved Steve, and the two of them bickered as they arranged the flowers in their arms to better carry them out of the store. 
Finally, Bucky huffed and stuck his tongue out at Steve. “Let’s get these in the shop, then we can go to that diner.”
The three of you wandered out of your store, bouquets in hand, and Bucky took them into the shop. “How about here?” he wondered aloud, placing the red bouquet on the table, and adjusting it slightly. 
You strode forward and adjusted it again, turning the vases and humming to yourself as you righted it. When you were satisfied, you stepped back and nodded. “How ‘bout that?”
Steve hummed approvingly as he placed the white arrangement on the reception desk – perfectly, you may add. Bucky looked between you and the flowers once, twice, then, “You’re decorating from now on, sweetheart.”
“If you say so.”
“We know so.” Steve’s hand was warm on your shoulder, and you briefly glanced down at the intricate designs that covered the back of his hand, the swirls stopping at the gold wedding and engagement bands. He flexed his hand and raised a brow. “What is it, doll?”
You considered your answer, and then ploughed on. “How long have you been married?”
“Feels like our whole lives at this point,” Bucky answered before Steve could open his mouth. “I’ve been with this punk since, what–college? Before that, even.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “We’ve been partners for a lifetime, and all those before-”
“Don’t go gettin’ all poetic on me, honey,” Bucky hushed, and he kissed Steve on the lips, then the cheek. “You said you were starved.”
“Can’t I be soft on my love?” 
Bucky laughed and shook his head. “You’re a punk–c’mon, Petal, let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you along – it was hard to ignore how warm his hand was or how your hand fit so perfectly in his. “And, just so you know, we’ve been married for nearly a decade now.”
“Wow,” you breathed, impressed. Neither gave the impression of being much older than yourself, but you supposed they were youthful in attitude, and that was one thing they had in abundance.
“So, what about that old diner on the corner–?”
“Yes!” you cried, brightening at the mention of your favourite spot to eat. “I love it there.”
Steve came up behind you and took hold of your other hand. “Alright, that’s settled then–off we go.”
They led you to a sleek, luxurious looking car parked a few feet from Quartet’s Tattoo. Bucky opened the back door for you, and you slipped into the leather seats with an awestruck gasp. The interior was immaculate and, for lack of a better word, rich. “Whoa–”
“We figured rather than letting that money sit and collect dust, we thought we should spend some of it,” Steve explained as he turned the ignition, and all the screens along the dash lit up. “Bucky spent more on his bike.”
You quickly looked at Bucky, who grinned proudly. “You have a bike?”
“Sure do, sweetheart. I’ll take you out one day,” he promised with another wink. 
Steve sighed. “That’s enough, you. Don’t want her passing out before dinner, at least.”
Bucky snorted a laugh, and Steve backed the car up before you were on your way to the diner. For dinner, with the two men that had asked you out on a date. The two married men. Wow, you thought to yourself. 
There was a slither of hesitance, but it was nothing next to the bounding hope of your heartbeat. For too long had you been shy and hesitant to take life by the reins, to take control and make something for yourself – your shop being the only proof that you could indeed take risks. 
That would end now, you intoned, promising yourself. Maybe this would be okay, maybe it would work. 
You could only try. 
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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I have an idea.
Based off of the fact that Evans tattooed his tattoo artist.
So... can I write a tattoo artist!Steve x reader smut piece in one evening?
Is that something people would be interested in?
Either way, I'll go write and scream now
(I mean, I'll also bake a swiss roll cake, but that's secondary)
8 notes · View notes
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Drawn Together 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.
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Character: Steve Rogers
Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.
I saw this and had to
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You are not a rebel. You are clean cut. You live within very precise boundaries. Minimizing every part of yourself to evade notice. Rules are not meant to be broken, despite that old cliche.
That is until that day. It's foolish, you know it. That voice in the back of your head repeats your foreboding. You know you can't go back. There isn't a magic eraser for this one.
Shut up.
You're over it. Over yourself. Over your boring life. You've never done one fun thing for just yourself. It's always been what has to be done. What must be done. You're thirty years old and you don't even know if you understand the concept of 'fun'.
You sit on the leather bench. Nervous and shaky as hell. There's still time to change your mind. You can take your deposit and go, with clean untainted skin.
No! You're not going to chicken out this time. You want one memory that doesn't end in you tucking tail and running.
"Do you like the sketch?" Sam, your assigned artist asks.
You glance over at him as he pulls on a pair of black gloves, his gun laid out and sterilised. You peek at the open sketchbook, the drawing of a simple red poppy outlined in black with a thick spiraled green stem. Nothing too big or extravagant, easy to hide. If your mother or father ever saw that, you would be excommunicated.
"I love it," your voice quavers and you clear your throat, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little anxious."
"That's fine. First time, right?"
"Uh, yeah, I don't even have piercings," you give a brittle chuckle, "I'm not really the adventurous type."
"I'm sure you are in your own way," he grins, a look that calms you. "So, we still set on ankle?"
"Um, yeah, I think that's good."
"As good a starting place as any. Glad I talked you off the ribs. Those are tender."
"Just an idea," you breathe, "I don't know much about these things."
"Not to worry, you're in good hands," he winks, "you can just relax," he rolls his stool to the foot of the bench, "and pop your leg up here."
"Right," you gulp down another chest full of air and follow his direction, "that's it?"
"And keep still. Tell me if you need a break. The pains a bit much at times so don't be afraid to speak up."
"Okay, sounds good," you try to settle in but your blood feels thick and your vision speckles with silver. Oh god, you're really going to do this.
"Don't hold your breath," he says, "really, I don't like my canvases passing out."
"Sorry."
"It's okay, you want something to drink before we start?"
"No, I'm good."
"Awesome," he says and grabs his gun, double checking the tip before moving back to your ankle. "Alright, I'll count down so you're not too surprised."
"Thanks," you fold your hands over your stomach as he positions your leg and bends forward.
He counts from three and you focus on not moving at the first stab of pain. Don't be a weak bitch. You grit your teeth and let out your breath as the gun buzzes loudly. The pain keeps a steady sear in your skin but you slowly get used to the sensation.
As he works, your eyes wander along the dark red walls and the artwork hanging all around. Tattoos in colour and black and white. The schematics of a tattoo gun. A falcon crest wrought in brass.
You hear the door open and the smoky voice of the other artist, Nat greets the newcomer you can't see past the pillar. The response is a deep, rocky timbre. You can only imagine the inked up brute behind it.
"Always with the notes," you hear a paper crinkle, "I'm the artist here, Rogers."
"Hey, I'm an artist too," the man counters lightly.
You peek over as the redhead woman appears on the other side of the pillar and guides her client through to her open workspace. An open curtain drapes against the wall at the other end of the shop. She sets down the page and tuts as she looks it over.
The man slides off a pair of dark sunglasses, black lenses with golden frames. He slips them into the pocket of his denim jacket and tugs at the sleeves. Their actions seem to be routine and you can see why. His arms are covered from wrist to shoulder in ink, a few smaller tattoos on his knuckles. Now you really feel out of place. 
"Sam, what's up?" The other client calls over as he hangs the denim on the coat rack.
"What's it look like, Steve?" Sam says, his eyes not leaving your ankle.
You take in the interaction silently. You're a stranger among the usuals. The poser getting their taste of artificial danger. Your ankle tweaks and you smother a grunt between your teeth. The noise catches the blue eyes of the man, Steve.
You quickly avert your eyes back to Sam and knot your fingers together. Steve's shadow moves away. The artist at your bench hardly seems bothered but gives a shake of his head.
"You want the curtain?" Natasha asks as she approaches the black drapes.
"Nah, you know I don't care."
Your eyes flick up as the man peels off his tank top. Wow. You blink rapidly and make yourself act normal. 
He lowers himself onto the leather seat as Natasha takes out her tools and starts sterilising. You once more force your attention back to Sam's careful work. It's going to take a while.
"You good?" He asks as he glances over, lifting the gun from your skin.
"Great," you murmur in an airy voice.
"Still nervous?"
"No, actually, kinda excited," you try not to speak too loud, overly mindful of the other client in the shop.
"Good," he hunches again and you suck in as he put the needle back to your skin. "So, what do you do? When you're not getting sick tats, that is?"
"Um, I, er, I teach. Music lessons."
"Music, huh? You seem like… the drummer type."
"Piano," you correct him, "I can carry a beat–" you pause to check the pain in your voice, "but I mostly teach piano."
"Classy," he remarks, "so, a poppy, any particular meaning to that?"
"Er, no, uh," you rub your neck nervously but make yourself quit moving, "it's my favourite flower."
"Pretty sombre fave but I get it," he remarks.
"Yeah, I guess…"
Your attention is drawn at the soft slap of skin and the rattle of metal. You look up as Steve retracts his hand and Natasha points at him with a sharp nail, "this is a sterile workspace."
He chuckles at her irritation and shows his palms before he sits back. He rolls his shoulders as he leans casually and twiddle his fingers against his jeans. Once more, your eyes meet and his mouth slants slightly. You gulp and look down again.
"So, any ideas for a second piece?" Sam asks.
"I think I'm gonna stick with one."
"Not gonna get a full bouquet?" He wonders.
"Not yet."
"Better get cozy, Rogers," Natasha says.
You look up as she sprays shaving foam onto his chest.
"You know this is my second home," he teases as he relaxes and she spreads the cream.
"Don't remind me," she grumbles as she takes a razor.
You tear away from your distraction once more. Gosh, it is painful. You don't know how people end up like him. Your tiny little flower will be more than enough for you.
You close your eyes and groan. Sam rests his hand on your calf. He squeezes as he pauses again.
"Need a break."
"No, keep going," you puff out.
You grip the side of the leather bench and bite down. You've always been a big baby. You bat away the gloss of tears threatening to confirm that and take another breath.
The subtle creak of leather pulls your gaze back across the room. Steve leans slightly around to see you past Nat as she shaves one side of his chest. You grimace and hide beneath your lashes.
Why is he looking at you like that? It must be amusing, someone like you in a place like that. Now you know this is definitely a mistake.
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Text
Taking A Chance
Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.2k
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You go and get a tattoo done by the grumpiest of tattoo artists.
Squares Filled: tattoo shop au (2021) for @lokibingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Why am I being such a pussy? Just go in and ask for it. I’ve wanted this for a year. God, if my mother could see me now, she’d be disappointed.
You look up at the tattoo shop’s sign and see the last letter flickering on and off. You have the money. You can get this tattoo done. All you have to do is go in and ask for it. This is the second time you’ve been outside this tattoo shop because you couldn’t go in the first time. It’s not a fear of pain; you can handle pain pretty well. It’s the fear of something being permanent on your body.
You won’t be able to take this off. Anyone who says lasering it off works is wrong. There will always be a scar to remind you of the mistake you made. Stop being such a baby. This is for Mom. This place has been highly rated as one of the best tattoo shops in your town. If you’re going to get a tattoo, may as well go to the best. 
You push the door open and walk inside only to be greeted with a hint of smoke and a lot of Axe body spray. Four very attractive men stand behind the counter just chatting amongst themselves. You’ve seen them in town before. They often frequent the local bar so you know exactly who they are.
Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Erik Killmonger (pretty sure that’s not his legal last name), and Clint Barton. As soon as they hear the small bell above the door go off, they stop talking and look at you.
“Can I help you?” Steve asks.
“Yeah, I’d like to get a tattoo today, if possible.”
“Did you have anything in mind?”
You hand Steve the paper you’ve been saving since your mom died. She drew a delicate vine of her favorite flowers, orchids. She was always a good artist so she drew this as a reminder of her before she died. It’s very precise and delicate line work, and the only person who can do this kind of style is Loki Laufeyson.
“The only person who can do this kind of work is Loki. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.” Speaking of, Loki walks out with an unlit cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in his hand. “Loki, care to help this pretty lady out?”
He shows Loki the picture but the artist barely gives it to two seconds of his attention.
“No. I’m going for a smoke.”
He has a thick British accent that’s hard not to blush at.
“Sorry, kid,” Steve says and hands back the picture to you.
“No, it’s okay,” you glare at Loki who has yet to leave the room. “I get it. His lungs are as bad as his tattoo skills.”
All four men snicker from your jab while Loki finally locks eyes with you. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, pockets it and the lighter, and opens the back door with a slight smirk.
“Fine. Right this way, Darling.” He takes you to his section of the shop which is pristine and very clean. He douses a few squirts of hand sanitizer on his hands before getting out the necessary equipment. “Where do you want it?”
“My ribs.”
“Is this your first?”
“Yes.”
“You want your first tattoo to be on your ribs? That’s gonna hurt.”
“I can take pain,” you glare.
His mouth twitches as he looks you up and down. After a beat, he nods and sits down on his wheelie chair.
“Shirt off,” he demands.
You do but keep your bra on. You made sure to wear something loose like a bralette that still keeps everything covered but won't be a hindrance to the place where you want the tattoo. You get onto the table and lay on your back, putting the side you want it on closer to Loki.
Loki gets set up and prints a stencil of the drawing you have. After putting it in the place you want it and confirming you like it there, he starts the tattooing process. The pain is sharp like a thousand needles being placed into your body at once, but it’s a dull pain compared to some of the other things you had to endure in life.
Loki has his left gloved hand on your body to keep you still while his right moves the needles right where he wants it. You don’t know where else to stare but at him, observing the way his eyes rake over your body to his hands which are delicate against your skin.
You had a full meal before you got here but this is making your head spin. It’s not because of the needles, it’s Loki. You’ve never met anyone like him. You basically insulted him to get what you want. Loki doesn’t have many clients because they always say the same thing: he’s rude, arrogant, and only accepts what he wants to do, not the other way around.
However, when you challenged him earlier, he knew you were someone he wanted to tattoo. Not only that, but he wants to get to know you. He's not a big talker so he doesn’t know what to say to you, and you’re not going to pry into his personal life like that. You squirm a bit from the pain, and he places his large hand over your stomach to keep you from moving.
“Be a good girl and stop moving unless you want me to fuck up,” he says and looks at you.
You quickly look away in hopes he didn’t see you checking him out, and you nod.
“Sorry.”
You peek at him to see a smirk on his face indicating that he did, in fact, catch you. You don’t want any color so the process doesn’t take long. He’s done with the tattoo in less than three hours since it’s only line work, and he rubs off the excess moisture so he can apply a patch of SecondSkin. Before he does it, you admire his work in the mirror.
See that, Mom? I’ll always have a piece of you with me wherever I go. I miss you. I love you.
“How do you like it?”
“It’s not bad.”
“Not bad?” he scoffs.
“Better than your lungs, I assume,” you smirk.
There you go again, making him want you more. He chuckles as he grabs the SecondSkin and cuts a piece off. He applies it directly over your tattoo and smooths it out.
“Come back in tomorrow where I’ll clean it and replace it with another patch of SecondSkin. Then, come back in a week and I’ll remove it for good. It should be healed then.”
“Okay,” you whisper and put your shirt back on.
“If you ever want more, call me,” he smirks.
He hands you his business card with his personal phone number on it.
“If you’re lucky,” you smirk and leave his office to pay in the front with Steve.
“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time,” Bucky says from the doorway.
“Shut up,” Loki grumbles but smiles when he hears your laughter come from the front of the shop.
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ladykailitha · 10 months
Text
Royal Pain Part 8
Hello! I don’t know if it’s that it’s summer or what, but I’ve seen a sharp decline on my stories, so I just wanted to check and make sure everyone was okay. Take care of yourselves.
The hunt for the new apprentices start, they make room, and Eddie and Steve talk the design for the tattoo.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
***
Steve got the biggest, most caffeinated drink on the menu and had downed half of it before he pulled up to Erica’s apartment complex. He put his in the cupholder and then grabbed the tray with Robin and Erica’s coffees plus breakfast.
He trotted up the stairs to Erica’s apartment and knocked on the door. Erica answered the door groggily. She spotted coffee first and grabbed it out his grasp.
Robin took her coffee gratefully from Erica as Steve pulled out their breakfast.
“Bacon, egg, and cheddar on an English muffin for Robin,” he said handing to her. “Fruit salad with whip cream for me and a sausage, egg, and Swiss on a croissant for Erica.”
Again Erica made grabby hands at Steve, who handed it to her.
Once they were fed and on their way, Erica asked, “So what’s all this about anyway?”
Steve looked at her through the rearview mirror. “I’m thinking of taking on a couple of apprentices at the shop so I can focus on doing a large back tattoo.”
“Suzie was telling the truth?” Erica gasped. “Holy shit. I thought she was making shit up. Because there was no way you are cool enough to do a back tattoo for Eddie Munson.”
Steve turned around and glared at her.
Robin smacked him. “Turn around and drive, dingus. I would rather not die today, thanks.”
Erica stuck her tongue at him and he tapped the breaks to get back at her.
“You should let me apprentice for you,” she said as they pulled up to Will’s apartment building. “I have the steadiest hands, from all those years painting tiny ass figures for D&D.”
Steve sighed. “I was hoping to find people who have already started working toward being a tattoo artist, but failing that, I guess I could teach you.”
He got out of the car and leaned back in. “I swear to god, if either of you touch my coffee, you’ll be walking home from here.”
He slammed the door.
“How serious do you think he was?” Erica asked, eyeing the caffeinated beverage with want.
“Don’t try it,” Robin warned her. “The last time someone messed with his coffee, he drove them to the complete other side of town and told them they could find their own way home.”
“Who was this?” Erica asked, rolling her eyes. “Mike?”
Robin twisted in her seat to look Erica in the eye. “Dustin.”
Erica looked at the coffee in the cup holder and then nodded. “Right. No touching the coffee.”
“Smart girl.”
Will and Steve came out moments later, so there wasn’t really time to mess with the coffee, anyway.
“Erica,” Steve said after opening the door again. “We’re going to divide and conquer. You’re going to go with Will to the colleges and shit. Robin and I are going to hit up the bars and clubs. We’ll meet at Nicki’s Diner for lunch in about three or so hours.”
Erica saluted and got out of the car to go with Will. “Roger, roger!”
Steve put his stack of fliers on the back seat and got into his car. He waved at Will and Erica and then drove off.
They had made a list Sunday night and started at one end of town and worked their way through asking if they could put up their flier. At some of the trendier bars and clubs they got turned down, but most of them let them put it up on their community boards.
They are both tired and hungry by the time they make it to Nicki’s to meet up with Will and Erica.
“We managed to put up every flier we had,” Erica said proudly.
“Yeah,” Will said, “I even had to print out ten more to hand out.”
Steve and Robin shared a glance.
“Wait, really?” Steve asked. “Robin and me barely got through our stack.”
Will nodded. “I’m so happy you’re doing this. I’ve been telling you for the last year to get more people in your shop.”
Steve sighed, pulling up the menu to look it over. “I know. I’m actually really excited about this. I probably won’t get more than a couple applicants but even if it’s just me training someone how to tattoo, they can at least do initial sessions of talking out ideas and shit for the clients that will take more than one session. Or even start offering henna that they could practice with in the mean time.”
“Me and my friends do henna all the time,” Erica said. “It’s fun trying to find colors that show up on darker skin tones.”
Steve straightened up. “Oh. Now that’s an idea. Jeff was telling me that it was hard to find a tattoo artist that could do dark skin, because a lot of artists forget that black on black doesn’t show up.” He looked at her and rubbed his lip thoughtfully.
“Would you be willing to do henna at my shop?” he asked. “I’d be able to pay you.”
Erica and Robin shared a glance.
“Does this mean you won’t teach me how to tattoo?” she asked, eyeing him sidelong.
Steve shook his head. “If you want to learn, I’ll teach you. I just don’t want this to be a fun summer thing for you and then when you go back to school in the fall, you never pick up a tattoo gun ever again.”
Erica paused. “Oh. I see what you mean.” She thought about it for a moment before she nodded. “For this summer at least, I’ll stick to the henna and if after this summer is over, I can pick whether to go back to school or stay with you and train to be tattoo artist.”
Steve stuck out his hand and she shook it.
He paid for all their lunch as thank you for helping him put up the fliers.
*
They spent the rest of the day clearing out the other rooms that would be used for the new artists. They got the chairs set up and them set up to take clients. Most of the stuff was already there, just waiting for Steve to make the decision to hire more people.
They took to cleaning and decorating the rooms to match the rest of the of shop.
They ended up ordering pizza and continued to work until late at night. Finally it was all done. This was the easy part. The hard part was waiting to see if anyone would answer the flier. Or their online messages.
Steve took the younger adults home and then practically crawled up the stairs to the apartment with Robin.
“You know this is entirely your fault,” she said, totally devoid of sympathy. “You didn’t have to spend all night talking to Eddie. You could have stopped at any time and actually got some sleep.”
Steve didn’t even bother rolling his eyes he was that tired. “Just let me die in peace, please.”
Robin pushed him in the direction of their bathroom. “Take a shower at least, dude. And then crash. You’ll thank me and yourself in the morning.”
Steve nodded, already swaying on his feet. He got into the shower and let the heat wash over of his tired, aching body and sighed in relief. He carefully washed his hair, but only did a perfunctory scrub down of his body.
He got out and smiled when he saw that Robin had placed his pajamas in there while he was showering. He pulled on the clothes she set out for him and padded back out to their apartment in bare feet.
“Feel better?” Robin asked from their sofa.
Steve sighed. “Yeah, yeah. It has long been established that you are smarter than me.”
“Hell, yeah,” she said with a grin. “Now go to bed before you pass out on the carpet.”
Steve nodded and went to do as he was told.
He slept deeply for the first time in a long time.  
*
Steve tried not to let his anticipation get to him as he worked on other tattoos, waiting for Eddie to come in. He was pretty sure he failed judging from the smirk on Robin’s face when Eddie finally arrived.
“Hey, Eds!” he greeted cheerfully. “We’ll go over some ideas I had and I can start laying the ground work for those wings of yours.”
Eddie grinned. “I can’t wait to see what you have for me, big boy!”
Robin raised an eyebrow at the pet name, but wisely said nothing as Steve led Eddie back to Steve’s work station.
“I saw the other rooms were opened,” Eddie said as he took a seat. “You’re really serious about the getting more people in here to work for you, huh?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’m a little nervous, but mostly? I’m hella excited.”
Eddie smiled fondly at him. “Certainly sounds like it. Show me what you got.” He made grabby hands at the drawing book Steve had picked up.
“You have any ideas of your own that you’d want to do or thoughts on what you think it should look like?” Steve asked flipping to the start of his ideas for Eddie’s tattoo.
He shook his head. “Not really, other than size. I want them all the way down my back.”
Steve nodded again. “I wasn’t sure, so there are a couple of wings that are just on the shoulder blades. You can ignore those.”
Eddie was looking at the different styles of wings and inward facing verses outward facing when a small piece of paper fluttered out of the book on the floor. He bent over to pick it and was opening it when Steve snatched it out his hand.
“Um...” Steve said. “That’s not really anything, just a stupid idea I had after listening to you talking to Dustin on Sunday.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Come on, I want to see it. I promise not to laugh or poke fun.”
Steve held to his chest for a moment and then handed the paper back to Eddie, heart in hand.
Eddie opened the paper up and there was a close to accurate rendition of his back with a pair of leathery bat wings, just like a lot of the designs in the drawing book. But in the middle of the two wings along the spine was a sword. It was a one-handed sword with a wavy blade that started at the base of the spine with the hilt and went all the way up to the nape of the neck with the point. The cross guard was in the shape of a bat and it was black.
It was beautiful.
“Holy fuck, Stevie,” Eddie said, breathless. “What is this?”
Steve blushed. “It’s the sword of Kas.I was thinking on one side of the blade have it say bloody-handed crossed out and then other side have it say betrayer.”
“This.” Eddie tapped the paper. “I want this. All of this. Including what you just said about the words. I want it.”
Steve’s jaw dropped and then he gulped. “It’s going to cost an awful lot. Like more then you were probably planning on spending, though.”
Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Sweetheart, I’ve been saving up for this tattoo for years. I have roughly four thousand saved up. I don’t think it’s going to be the problem you think it will.”
Steve gently took back the paper. “You really want to do this?”
“Yeah, I really, really do,” Eddie said, smiling up at him.
A slow, sweet smile blossomed on Steve’s face. “All right. Let me scan this so I can print out the stencils and we’ll get started.”
“I can’t hardly wait.”
***
Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18 Part 19  Part 20  Part 21   Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25 Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Epilogue
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Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate
Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)
MAIN MASTERLIST
Fluff🌺  Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥
5/7 STORIES
5 Type Of Kisses
MY HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:
Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.
Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown
Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection
Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love
Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it
When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.
Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business
Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!
One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit
No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.
DRABBELS FROM MY 🧠
Come On, Let Loose ❤️‍🔥 What happens when you comfort Steve about his quietness when in public with him?
Midnight Proposal🌺
Fluff Alphabet🌺
Dating Steve Would Include🌺
Celebrating The New Year🌺
Without Me 🌩️ inspired by Halsey’s song ‘Without Me’
Kisses From Steve🌺
If I Rode You, I Can Ride The Horse 🌺Steve takes Y/n it for a special surprise at 5 am?!
SHORT IMAGINES
Watching Steve Do Squats🌺
Celebrating New Year🌺
PICTURE STORIES
Finding out you are expecting with Steve and breaking the news to him.🌺
Being On Vacation With Your Boyfriend Steve Rogers 🌺
Buying A House In A Remote And Quiet Place Where You Live With Steve As he Begins Retirement From Being An Avenger🌺
Traveling The World🌺
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