;

𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ; 𝐬𝐜𝐛

this is part of my binnie month collab with @httpdwaekki ♡

ash's masterlist ; ash's fic ♡

my masterlist

🏷️: @giddyfatherchris ; @lurking-coconut ; @thatonexcgirl ; @bowsnbang ; @strawbini ; @nyang3racha ;

[afab!reader. an annoying guy at a club approaches the reader but nothing happens. size kink i guess? because reader is obsessed with changbin's big arms. strength kink i guess for the same reason. changbin fucks reader in a headlock. unprotected piv sex. clit play. choking if you squint but not really. creampie. not edited so bare with me if there are typos.]

—

Changbin saw you standing in front of a mirror with an unamused look on your face. He circled your waist with his arm and pressed a kiss on the back of your shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?”

You snorted. “I don’t know, I’m not sure I like this outfit.” 

Changbin was confused, because that was a really good outfit. “Why not?” He recognised the skirt you were wearing, and remember how excited you were the day you’d bought it. “You were head over heels about this skirt. It looks so good on you, baby, there’s nothing wrong with this outfit.” 

He was being sincere, looking at you absolutely starstruck. The outfit you’d chosen literally made his mouth water — the skirt was hugging your body beautifully, and the same thing could be said about the top you were wearing — nobody loved your body more than Changbin, always touching you whenever he could. Now, Changbin was no fashion expert, but he seriously couldn’t tell what was wrong with the clothes you’d chosen — he thought you looked like a goddess in that skirt and top.

“Isn’t it a little too… short, though?” You hummed unamused, not fully convinced. 

The truth was — you loved the outfit and thought it looked really good, you were just scared it was too revealing and that Changbin would feel uncomfortable going out with you dressed like that, especially since you were going to a club with his friends and their girlfriends.  

“It looks stunning. You look stunning. Wear whatever you want, baby,” Changbin kissed your temple, “I can fight.” 

He meant it as a joke, flexing his muscles right after to brighten your mood. He was probably unaware of the effect his big, strong, buff arms had on you. Changbin’s muscles turned you on like crazy and you never missed an occasion to touch them, squeeze them, bite them. He found it cute that you were so obsessed with his arms, but you found it incredibly hot. 

You went out in that outfit, feeling safe with Changbin by your side. 

—

Changbin could see you were uncomfortable, and that’s why he started to walk in your direction slowly, so that he could witness with his eyes and ears what was going on with that guy who decided it was okay to approach you while you’d gone to get a drink for you and Changbin. He couldn’t hear much with the music blasted through the speakers, but he knew you, and he knew you’d only toy with your fingernails when you were uncomfortable. 

“Is everything alright?” Changbin cleared his throat. 

The guy turned around and gave Changbin an annoyed look. “Yup. We’re just talking.” 

Changbin didn’t like the way the stranger looked at you from head to toe, his stare lingering a bit too long on your exposed thighs. 

“Can’t you see that she’s uncomfortable?” Changbin asked him. “I think you should go.” 

The guy clenched his jaw annoyed. “And I think you should mind your business.” 

Changbin was starting to lose it. As soon the guy turned around, Changbin grabbed him by the collar, grip not too tight as to hurt him, only working as a warning. 

“Listen to me,” Changbin muttered through gritted teeth, “leave her alone or we’re gonna have problems.” 

The boy fully turned to face Changbin, acting all tough and brave. “Problems? What are you gonna do, huh?” He insisted, insulting Changbin once more.

“How about I’ll fly you out the window?”

The guy was well aware that Changbin was much stronger than he was, and that’s probably why he eventually gave up, muttering something you could not comprehend as he walked away from you. Changbin didn’t expect you to latch your arms around his neck and pull him in for a heated kiss. 

“You’re so— you’re so hot. My saviour. My big boy,” you bit his lower lip. “Look at these,” you squeezed his biceps, “I love these arms. My favourite arms in the world.” 

Changbin chuckled because what you just said didn’t make sense, how could someone have favourite arms? It made sense to you, however, and Changbin’s were hands down your favourite. They made you feel safe and protected always, and they looked so irresistibly hot on him and you were weak for him. 

“Let’s go back to the guys.” But you pulled him by the wrist, shaking your head. “You don’t wanna go back?”

You shook your head once more. Then, you whispered in his ear, “you’re so hot, Binnie. My Binnie. ‘M so desperate for you, baby. Need you.” And again, “Wan’ you to put these big arms in use. Wan’ you to put me in a headlock and fuck me until I can’t walk tomorrow.” 

Changbin choked on his own spit. “Wha—? What? Baby, princess, are you drunk?”

You shook your head and he remembered that, in fact, the two of you hadn’t had a single drink ever since you stepped inside the club. 

“Nope. Not drunk. Just really desperate for my strong boyfriend,” you pouted at him.

Changbin didn’t give in when you tried to pull him into the club’s restrooms. He didn’t want to fuck you in a dirty, public bathroom with the risk of strangers coming in and catching you right in the act, let alone seeing you naked. He didn’t give in when you tried to convince him to fuck in the backseats of his car — too uncomfortable. He chuckled and pecked your lips, whispering something that sounded like “patience, baby. Let’s get home first and then I’ll fuck you all night long.”

—

It was a miracle Changbin even got the passcode to his house right since he typed it without looking, too busy making out with you against the door to care. You stumbled inside his place clumsily, struggling to take your shoes off without pulling away from the kiss, but you had no time to waste right now. You craved each other. 

Changbin started kissing your neck, leaving openmouthed kisses all over your skin, kisses that felt a bit sticky due to your lipgloss that he was now smearing all over your body. “Changbin— Binnie, bedroom, please,” you sighed with desperation. 

Changbin lifted your body effortlessly, and you bit your lip at the sight of his flexed muscles, not missing the opportunity to squeeze them under your fingers, leaving a few red marks with your fingernails all over his arms, marks that you were going to leave kisses all over. 

“You’re so hot, do you know that?” You mumbled on his lips, clenching your legs around his waist as he kicked the bedroom door open. “So fucking… big and buff and… and mine. My big boy.” 

Changbin responded with a low grunt. 

“You were so hot… back in the club…” you gasped in between hot kisses and licks. “So fucking hot… the way you talked to that guy… ugh, the way you flexed your muscles…”

“Hmm, you really like when I do that, don’t you?” He smirked.

Changbin figuratively threw you onto his bed, kneeling right between your legs and flexing his muscles to tease you. You pushed yourself up on your elbows to witness the sight better, then bit your lip so hard you could almost taste blood in your mouth. Changbin was rock hard inside his boxers the same way your panties were entirely wet. 

“I wasn’t kidding back at the club,” you looked at him through your eyelashes, “I really want you to put me in a headlock and fuck me dumb.” 

A timid blush appeared on Changbin’s cheeks. What you just told him was so different than anything else you were used to doing in bed. Changbin was always romantic and never ever rough with you, not even when you explicitly asked him to he’d been able to fully let go. Seeing you so desperate over the mere sight of his arms, though… 

You don’t remember how or when you found the time to undress yourselves, but you eventually found yourselves naked and with Changbin’s fingers between your legs. “What are you doing?” You quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“Prepping you?” He returned the confused stare. He always prepped you.

“Changbin, if you don’t pin me down this bed and fuck me stupid within the next three seconds you and I are going to have problems.” 

Something inside him switched. However, he still wasn’t going to fuck you without the tiniest bit of prepping, so he figured lube was the second best option. He squeezed a generous amount onto his cock, then his gingers, then looked you in the eye. 

“You really want me to pin you down and fuck you stupid?” 

“Very much,” you returned the challenging stare.

Changbin cupped one of your asscheeks and squeezed the flesh into his hand. “Turn over. Face down, ass up.”

You obeyed. Turned around to glare at him when, once again, you felt his fingers between your legs, impatient to feel him already and not wanting to waste your time with foreplay. 

“Changbin—”

“I’m just spreading the lube. Behave,” he spanked you jokingly. 

“Why don’t you make me behave?” You challenged him. 

The next thing you knew, you were pressed onto the mattress with Changbin’s body pressed on yours. His arm circling your neck tight enough to keep your head in place but not as tight as to suffocate you, of course, you could breathe just fine in this position. 

“That what you wanted, huh?” He whispered in your ear. 

Goosebumps all over your skin at the sound of Changbin’s lust-filled voice. His other arm hugged your waist so that your hips were slightly lifted from the mattress, enough to grant him access to where you needed him the most. He rubbed himself on your pussy just to tease you, ready to slip inside any moment. 

You nodded, truly desperate to feel him. “Mhh yeah,” you whined, “wanted you like this, Binnie.” 

And he melted at the pet name, pressing his tip inside and then filling you up wholly, taking your breath away. He wasn’t excessively big — more girth than length for sure, but from this specific angle he was entering you in, he felt much bigger inside of you, filling you up perfectly until all you could feel was him, until he filled all your senses. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder. 

“Love you so much,” you rambled on, already cockdrunk as he started to push inside of you slowly, rolling his hips to meet the skin of your ass. “Love everything about you.” 

“But you love my arms a bit more, don’t you?” Changbin joked, whispering the words in your ear as he tightened the grip around your neck the tiniest bit, checking you were alright right after and relaxing once he made sure you could  still breathe just fine.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your skull with the next thrust. Your hair was stuck all over your forehead and face and Changbin was fucking you so good he was making you see stars. You clenched around him. 

“Are you close, baby?” Changbin asked, and you nodded, unable to speak properly. 

From this position, he couldn’t rub your clit, but you also didn’t want him to move at all because he was hitting all the good spots inside of you.

“Harder… tighter…” you mumbled incoherently, and somehow Changbin got the message.

He fucked you harder, allowing your clit to repeatedly brush on the soft covers of Changbin’s bed, and flexed his muscles harder, consequently tightening the grip around your neck. With a moan and a choked gasp of his name, you finally managed to reach your high — body shaking and trembling, toes curling, fingers fisting the sheets beneath you. Changbin continued to fuck you, determined to chase his own orgasm before you felt overstimulated. He pressed his forehead on the nape of your neck and rolled his hips harder. 

“Binnie—”

He came inside of you, biting down your skin to muffle the sounds that fell from his lips. He softened inside of you, and effortlessly rolled the both of you over onto the mattress until you were resting on top of him. 

“Missed seein’ your cute face,” he smiled at you, pulling your hair from your face. He pressed his lips on yours. 

“Missed my favourite cheeks,” you poked his cheek, returning the smile. 

“Favourite cheeks, favourite arms… seems like you’re obsessed with me or something,” he jokingly rolled his eyes, then bursted out in a contagious laugh. He hugged you closer, and you rested your head on his chest, lulled by his heartbeat. You wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed him.

“You’re my favourite.”

—

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬! "𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧", 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.

he is the blueprint (for @livelocks ♡)

the bet | seo changbin

Pairing • Best Friend!Changbin x GN!Reader Summary • After a night of tipsy half-joking, half-arguing, Changbin makes a claim that's unequivocally false— if you were sitting on his dick, you would be the first to move. You've never done anything sexual with your best friend, but here you are the next day, sitting on his cock, seeing who would break first. The prize? The winner can post whatever they want on the losers twitter account. Genre • smut WC • 1.7k Content • no pronouns used but reader has a vagina, cock-warming, edging if you squint, unprotected, groping, nipple play, clit stimulation, piv penetration, lots of teasing and taunting from both sides, MDNI 18+

"You sure you want to do this?" Changbin asks. He's lazily sitting on his couch, smirking as if he's already won.

"What, scared you'll lose?"

"As if."

The two of you have poked fun at each other your whole life, but it's never escalated this much. It just started as jokes. Watching a raunchy movie, him saying he was bigger than the male lead, you not believing him, and somehow it ended up with him saying you wouldn't be able to resist it if you saw it. Of course you could, there's no way you'd care about his dick. It's Changbin. You've seen him do too much embarrassing shit your whole life to take him seriously. You could definitely resist his dick if you saw it.

And that's when he said you wouldn't be able to resist it if you felt it.

"This will be a walk in the park. All I have to do is sit there," you say.

At those words, you see a bulge start to grow in his grey sweatpants. Yeah, this will be so easy.

You ignore the pulsing that starts in your core.

"Let's make this a bit more exciting," he says. He's still so cocky. "Whoever moves first, wins. And whoever wins..." he stops for a moment, and his eyes light up when he thinks of a prize, "whoever wins gets to post anything they want on the others twitter account."

"Oh, you're on."

Despite all the talk, you're still nervous to actually start. You've never undressed in front of him before, and the most you've seen of him is his chest at the beach.

He starts first, taking off his sweats and putting them beside him on the couch. You try not to stare, but it's hard not to notice the mound in his crotch. Maybe he wasn't lying about being bigger than that actor after all.

"Are you gonna keep gawking at me, or are you gonna actually do something?" he says.

He can be so irritating when he wants to be.

Finally, you pull down your pants and throw them on the other side of the couch.

He starts taking off his boxers, and you pull down your underwear as well. You're a bit embarrassed to look at his cock directly, but not only is it big, it's thick too. Instead, your eyes dart up to his, but he's not looking at your face.

His eyes are directed at your pussy, drinking up the sight of it.

"Are you gonna keep gawking at me, or are you gonna actually do something?" you say.

He looks back up at you and smirks.

"Come sit down and we can start."

He relaxes into the couch, arms on top of the backrest, waiting for you to make a move. Hesitantly, you climb on top and straddle him, hovering over his lap. He uses one hand to position his dick, and you lower yourself down slowly. He teases you by moving it before it enters you, and it instead rubs your clit. You try again, and he moves it the other way.

"Changbin."

"Sorry, sorry," he laughs, and holds it still. Finally, you lower yourself on his cock, and you feel how hard he is. Looks like that teasing backfired on him, the slightest stimulation from your pussy stiffened him up this much.

Just from the first inch, he was already proving to be difficult.

"Wow, you're already so wet. Were you looking forward to this?"

"Shut up, I can feel your dick throbbing."

You lower yourself more, and you feel his girth stretch you out and fill you up in a way that no one's ever done to you before. It was terrible- you'd never be able to make fun of him for having a small dick again. You felt the pressure of his thickness against your walls as it slid in, slowly moving through you, and eventually you were able to fit his massive cock all the way inside you. When it hits the right bundle of nerves, you let out an involuntary moan.

He raises an eyebrow, but thankfully doesn't mention it. You think you would die of embarrassment if he did.

He reaches for his pants, takes out the phone in the pocket, and starts scrolling through twitter.

"We never said that was allowed!"

"We never said it wasn't."

If you knew he was going to cheat and use his phone to distract himself from his dick inside you, you would've brought your phone too. But you stupidly left it on the table, and you're forced to look at him laughing at posts you can't see.

You sat there in silence. Minutes pass, and you're trying to think about anything other than the way your best friends cock feels deep inside you, hot and pulsing against your walls. It wasn’t working. You wanted to rub your legs, squirm on his dick, feel any sort of friction from him. You take a deep breath to calm your racing thoughts.

He doesn't look up from his phone when he taunts you.

"Ready to give up? Why don't you bounce on my dick, for your own sake. Get it over with."

It's way too early in the challenge to give up now, but the less reasonable part of you does want to feel him thrusting into you and relieve the tension building up in your core.

It wasn't fair that he got to be on his phone. If he was going to cheat, so were you.

You move your hands to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up enough to slip your hands underneath. Before he realizes what's happening, you're groping his chest, feeling how solid they were under your fingertips. You move to his nipples, circling them before rubbing them directly.

"What- ugh," he moans, and you tease his nipples more to see his reaction.

"This can't be allowed-" he says, breathing heavier. His dick twitches inside you, and it gives you a minuscule amount of friction.

"We didn't say we couldn't."

"Oh?" He smirks. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, his hands are inside your shirt, pulling up your bra and groping your boobs. He thumbs over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch before pinching them. You moan louder than the first time, and your hands fall to his waist as you try to steady yourself. The movement of his groping slightly rocks you on his dick, and you feel it pressing against you, rubbing over your sensitive spot.

"Ch-changbin," you moan, "I take it back."

He stops groping you, but leaves his hands cupped over your tits. You're finally able to regain some composure.

"This definitely shouldn't be allowed," you say.

He laughs. "I can agree to that. No more groping."

He gives your boobs one last squeeze, and slides his hands down your torso, making sure to touch you the whole way. His hands rest on your thighs.

"Now," he continues, "bounce on my dick for me. You're getting desperate."

It's true, but you don't want him to know that. You're aching for something to to happen.

"If you want it to be over so badly, why don't you bounce me yourself."

He scoffs.

"I could make you end it now if I wanted, but I'm a nice guy so I'll let you think you have a chance."

"Oh yeah? And how would you do that?"

He stops for a moment, and then you see a mischievous glint in his eye. He looks down to your pussy and smiles.

"Like this."

One hand grabs your waist, and the other moves to your clit. He makes rough circles around it.

This was not good.

You try to force his hands off you, but it's no use. His toned arms stay where they are, and he rubs your sensitive bud with more pressure. You can't help but moan as you bury your head into his shoulder and attempt to keep yourself still, but your body mindlessly rocks into his. You've already lost, but he doesn't stop. In fact, he makes it worse, rolling his hips into you while he keeps his fingers rubbing your clit. Your moans don't stop, and soon he's guiding you up and down on his massive dick. You're bucking wildly on him, getting every last inch of him inside you. Every bounce hits that sweet spot, and you know you're close to your peak.

Then, he moves to lay you down on your back, cock still buried inside you. He's on top of you now, and he lifts your shirt up to feel your boobs as he's pounding into you. He thrusts into you deeper and faster, squeezing your tits, until you're a twitching, moaning mess. You clench your pussy around his cock, and you feel the coil snap.

"I'm cumming," you're barely able to say, and he continues pounding into you as you ride out your high.

He speeds up, chasing his own high. Soon, his hot white liquid fills you up as he collapses on top of you.

You both lay there on the couch, thoughts racing from what just happened. He really just fucked you silly.

Changbin of all people.

And it felt fucking good.

"So..." he finally says, rolling over to your side. "Should I start posting now, or do you want to get cleaned up first?"

You bury your face in your hands.

"Please don't post something that could get me fired."

"What, I can't post 'I got cock drunk on Changbin's massive dick'? Or how about 'Changbin's cock felt so good inside me that I came before he even moved'. I think that's a good one."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"What about 'I've never seen a dick as massive as Changbin's. I want it inside me, thrusting into me-'"

"Stop!"

While that last one may be true, there's no way you'd let him say it out loud.

"Alright, alright. I'll post something so wholesome you're gonna barf."

You sigh. You'll never agree to something like this again.

"So...," he says, "wanna go for round 2?"

His fingers rub lazy circles around your clit, and you feel your core pulsing again. This is going to be a long day.

RASPBERRY PIE

minors dni. minho x fem!reader. 4k words content warnings. pet names (sweetheart, angel). mutual pining. sweet/shy reader. perv!minho. corruption kink. food play. dirty talk. oral (m rec.). soft!dom minho.

you bake your quiet neighbour a warm raspberry pie.

He's pretty sure he's utterly fucked from the jump – he finds himself attached so early he almost convinces himself you're a witch in disguise; that maybe he'd moved in next door to a creature designed to trap men like him. A siren, maybe. The sweetness was an act; all the soft tones and doe eyed looks were just a trick to lure him down beneath the waves.

He was determined not to drown.

And then you show up with the pie, a little flushed from working around a hot oven. It'd been 6 months – 6 months since he'd moved in, and as he opens the door to find you in an apron with little pink stains, a feeling of approaching and inevitable doom settles in his chest. Finally, you'd come to take him.

"Hi," you greet with a shy smile. "My friend brought me over far too many berries yesterday so..." you look down at the golden pie, carefully decorated and clearly still warm, "...well I made this. For you."

If he was wise, he'd politely decline, close the door, and never be faced with the reality of the sweet little siren in his apartment, offerings of temptation and all.

"For me?"

You look up at him through long lashes. "Do you like pie?" you ask. It's the way you say it, like if he doesn't you might genuinely hurt inside – like with a simple rejection of your offering, he had the ability to snuff out some little candle alight inside you.

"I like pie," he says.

Then you smile. Like it's the best news you've heard in weeks. "Oh, good."

He steps aside, his body betraying him. The siren enters with her warm pie and soft smiles – and he knows, unequivocally, that he's fucked.

He keeps his distance as you comfortably navigate to the kitchen to find a place for your offering. The apartments were all pretty much identical as far as he knew. The two on this floor, his and yours, were mirrored. He imagines that just on the other side of your joining wall, you took the same steps he did he each morning, in parallel.

You fiddle a little with the delicately placed raspberries atop the pie as he approaches from the other side of the island. You wear a tiny silver ring on one finger, much like one he wears on his own. He'd spotted it before, during short interactions in the elevator. He suppresses the urge to comment on it now, to ask if it meant anything to you.

He doesn't need to know you. He couldn't afford to. He was finding himself attached enough without it.

Then you pluck one little berry up in your fingers and bring it to your lips. He watches you. He watches you and he knows that he's walked willingly into a trap.

"Sweet?"

You look up. "Hm? Oh." You nod. "They're lovely. My friend gets them from this farm near his parent's place."

Friend. His. He sits in the feeling that stirs in his chest for a quiet moment. It's a rotten feeling. He doesn't like it at all.

"He brings them often?" he finds himself asking.

"Not at all. He just happened to come by after being there for a weekend. He doesn't go there often, I don't think." Your accompanying smile is almost enough to snuff out the rotten feeling before he has time to digest it. Almost.

Then he considers that this might not be the only pie. You may have made this other guy a pie just like it... maybe it was bigger, maybe you'd used the sweetest berries in his pie.

He kicks a cat toy across the floor as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, a little embarrassed by his own internal monologue. Witchcraft, turning his brain into mush.

"You have a pretty view."

He looks up to find you brushing your hands down your apron and rounding the kitchen island. You seem drawn to his floor to ceiling windows, a little moth to the light.

He follows.

"Mine isn't nearly this nice," you continue once he's standing beside you. "All I get is the construction site and a concrete wall." Then you close your eyes, head tilting back a little to let the sun's afternoon rays bathe your face. "Don't get the sun like this, either," you add, a little dreaminess leaking into your already sweet voice.

Oh, he's fucked.

"You like it?"

You blink up at him, eyes adjusting to the light again. "Hm?"

"I mean if you really like it, you're welcome over anytime, whenever." He wonders if this is part of your spell work, making him say stupid shit. Maybe he'd be better off if you were casting spells on him, if he had a reasonable excuse for being so fucking braindead. "For the sun," he adds, like it makes it better.

A small breath of laughter slips from your pretty lips. "It does get a little gloomy over there, on my side of the wall."

It was hard to imagine anywhere you were being gloomy.

"I should go," you continue after a short moment of comfortable silence, each of you basking in the sunlight. He really should appreciate that more, he notes. Then he considers the fact he'll associate this little patch of warmth with you each time he attempts such a thing.

"Sure," he says, following you from a safe distance to the door. "Thank you. For the pie."

"You're welcome."

Everything is fine. He's alone and he survived the encounter. Then he's faced with the pie. He stares down at it, warm and made with careful hands.

He plucks a berry off the top. He thinks of the berry you'd eaten in the same way.

Everything is fine.

He hesitates as he goes to pluck a second berry. Instead of lifting one from the crust, he presses the tip of his finger a little against the surface. Warm. He breaks through. His finger is coated in syrupy, red filling when he pulls it free. It's sugary sweet when he sucks it clean.

Shame. That's what he feels next. Because sweet gestures of neighbourly kindness should not trigger the kind of thoughts creeping their way into his head.

He wonders if the little siren's cunt is as warm and sweet as the little offering she brought him. He considers doing the right thing, having a cold shower and sitting in the morning sun with a slice of pie.

But apparently, today, and the day before, and every day for the past 6 months, Minho was not wise and he wasn't very good. Because he let the thoughts of his sweet little neighbour stew for months, and this is where it'd led him.

He stands there, one palm pressed flat on the kitchen counter, the other buried in his sweatpants, and he thinks of the sweet little siren with her sweet offerings, and he imagines sinking his hard cock into her warm, sweet cunt.

—

It's hard not to deflate entirely as you close your apartment door behind you. You'd expected too much from a single pie, you suppose. It would entirely out of character for him to ask you to stay for a slice, to take the opportunity to finally have a conversation longer than an elevator ride.

You sigh, dropping your forehead against the cool surface of the door. It helps a little. You're overheated, both from the cooking, the warm sun, and the heat that had bubbled up from the inside as the pretty - yet frustratingly reserved - man next door had watched you move about his space.

You hadn't lied, his apartment was far nicer than yours. You could imagine basking in that patch of sun any chance you had. You wonder if he does the same, if he sits there after a shower, chest bare and hair still a little damp - letting the sun warm his skin.

You leap back as a knock on the door jolts you out of your daydream. Sighing, you press your palm to your forehead - head thoroughly rattled - as you pull the door open.

Oh.

"Hi," Minho says casually. He's a little flushed compared to when you'd left him minutes earlier. He shouldn't be. There were no stairs between your apartments.

"Hello, again."

He glances over your shoulder, getting a clear view of your empty living room. "It is darker in here," he says, still casual.

"Oh. Mm, yeah. I miss your sun already."

His eyes fix back on you. Then he pulls his lip between his teeth slightly. He has something to say... something he won't say.

"Why'd you make me the pie?" he asks.

You blink. "I... had a lot of berries from-"

"Your friend. I know."

You're officially confused. His eyes drop down your dirty apron before returning to your face. "You only made one?"

"Is it bad?" you question.

He pushes some hair away from his eyes. "No," he says quickly. "No, it's... nice." His eyes sweep down your body again. "Sweet," he adds.

"I only made one."

His eyes jump to yours before a brief look of confusion flashes across his pretty face. He seems to remember his own question soon enough. "You didn't want to give it to," he gestures vaguely behind you, "your friend?"

"No," you answer simply. This entire interaction was drifting into territory you weren't sure you were ready for. If his questions got any more interrogative, you might find yourself wondering how to answer them in any other way than 'Oh, the pie? I baked it for you because I have a huge, embarrassing crush on you, even if you've seemed intent on not knowing me.'

"He doesn't like pies?" he asks.

You can't help following the path of his fingers as he fiddles with the chain hanging around his neck. They brush his skin as he strokes the metal back and forth.

"I... don't understand what you're asking me," you say as you pull your eyes from his neck. "Is something wrong?"

He readjusts his position in the doorway, pressing his hand to the frame and freeing you from the constant distraction at his neck. He leans over you a little like this.

God, he's pretty.

"You a witch?" he asks.

"I'm sorry?"

"Did you put something in it?" he continues, still leaning well and truly into your space. "Something to make me-" he cuts himself off, brows furrowing.

"Are you asking me if I poisoned the pie?"

His voice drops, like someone might overhear, despite you both being entirely alone on this floor of the building. "I'm trying to figure out why all I can fucking think about is how you might taste on my tongue."

Your head rushes, all the heat returning. Then your eyes drop to the floor.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

You don't. His shoes are safer. He was flirting. More than flirting. He wanted you.

His fingers guide your chin up, it doesn't take much, a nudge. "I'll leave if you want," he says. "Never mention it again. Just tell me what you want."

"Did you like it?" you find yourself whispering. "The pie."

His lips crack into a lopsided smile. It's tiny, but it's a smile. "Loved it, sweetheart. Sent me to heaven."

"Would you... would you like to come in?"

He nods.

You go to turn, to let him follow you. But then, instead, you take his hand and lead him in. He's warm. You imagine all the sun he gets over there must've absorbed deep inside him over time. Maybe he could leave some of it behind here for you - that heat might leak from him if your kept him here long enough.

He follows where you lead, his hand still grasped firmly in your own. You're not sure why you lead him to the sofa. You aren't sure what you're expecting next. It's why you find yourself simply standing beside the piece of furniture waiting for him to say something – to let go of your hand maybe.

Instead, his thumb begins brushing over your skin. He's quiet, seemingly unhurried to break the tension building.

"I asked my friend to bring the berries," you confess quietly, eyes focused on your interwined hands. Confessions were always so much easier with your eyes downwards. "I wanted to make something for you... specifically."

"Why's that?"

His thumb continues against your skin. He doesn't make you look at him like he had before.

"Because I... wanted you to - I wanted your attention."

You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, "So you baked me a pie?"

"I'm good at baking."

"You are," he agrees. Then his other hand reaches for the hem of your apron. He rubs it between his fingers a little. "Messy though."

You look down at the patterned splotches, pink on white. Then he releases your hand, taking that warmth with him. He only allows you a few seconds to miss it though. That same hand snakes around the back of your neck, skin on skin.

Your eyes are drawn to his without thought.

"Are you always messy?" he asks.

You nod, chewing on your lip a little.

He seems pleased with your answer, a small hum escaping his throat. "I like messy," he says, sounding a little far away. "Do you like messy, sweetheart?"

Your eyes drop to his lips, a little stained from your pie filling. "Yeah," you breathe.

He tugs you towards him before your have time to suck in another breath, attaching himself to you like he's starved. You can't help gasping a little into his mouth as he presses you into him with a hand to your back.

Holy fuck. Surely you'd wake up slumped against the door any second. Maybe someone hadn't just knocked on the door. Someone had opened it and knocked you out and you were dreaming about your pretty, brown eyed neighbour.

He groans a little before taking your lip between his teeth. No. No you were definitely awake. "So sweet," he mumbles as he releases you, his breath ghosting over your wet lips. "Can I have you?"

–

It's hard to keep his head on straight as you look up at him with those big sweet eyes. Can I have you? His stomach rolls as he waits for you to say yes. Please say yes. 6 months of denial and he was desperate.

You'd made that sweet little gift for him. Just for him. His little siren.

Then you're pressing against his chest, forcing him down onto the sofa. He looks up at you, at the stained apron and the hair sticking a little to your temples from the time spent making his pie.

Then you lower yourself to your knees.

Oh, fuck.

Your hands only have to brush his legs for him to get the hint. He spreads them, allowing you to shuffle closer to him – settling between his thighs.

Then you look up at him. "Can I taste you?"

He's keeping you. His head drops back as he collects himself. Then, "You want my cock in your pretty little mouth?"

You nod, fingers pressing lightly into his thighs.

Minutes ago he was fucking himself into his own hand imagining how warm you'd feel around him. Now you're between his legs, lips wet, asking to taste him.

He's careful to keep his eyes on you as he frees himself, intent on catching each and every reaction you make – he's keeping it all.

You're a little hesitant as you reach for him. "You're good, sweetheart," he encourages. "Touch me however you like."

It seems to be all you need. In the next second your soft little hand is wrapping around his length. His head drops back again as his eyes close.

It's a mistake, closing his eyes. He's not prepared when your wet lips press to the tip of him, soft and warm. He groans, hand automatically making a home in your hair. He needs grounding. He needs –

Your lips wrap around him. His little siren was sucking his dick into her sweet little mouth. His hips jump a little. "Oh fuck, that's right. You're all warm for me."

You hum a little around him. Then, you take him deeper. Hot little tongue dancing over his sensitive skin.

"Good girl," he groans. "Take it for me, sweetheart." He resists the urge to spill himself right here, right against your tongue. "Hm? You taking it for me?"

His hips jump again as he fucks himself into your hot mouth, wet and sweet and just for him. You'd wanted his attention. You'd come for him. Just him.

"You mine?" he gasps as he forces his head up to look at you. "You gonna let me fuck you?"

Your lips pull off him slowly, a little suction at his tip sending his head spinning. "Do you want to?" you ask, lips swollen.

He leans forward enough to begin lifting you, encouraging you to climb into his lap. Each hand rests at your hips as you settle yourself there, his leaking cock pressed between you.

"So bad," he answers.

You shift a little in his lap. He imagines you squirming on his cock.

"Me too," you confess. It's quiet, like it's bad.

Sweet siren.

"Sit on me," he instructs. "Want you to bounce on me, sweetheart."

You eyelashes flutter as you blink a few times, processing, deciding. Then you shift, reaching up under your dress and tugging your underwear down.

Something in his stomach stirs when he realises you were leaving the rest on, apron and all.

You grasp him in a soft hand, guiding him beneath your clothes – then you sink down. He's transfixed by the little sound that escapes your lips as you take him in. That, and the way your cunt feels squeezing around him. He might have to keep you for fucking ever.

Hot and sweet and wet and better than he'd imagined as he'd fucked himself against his counter minutes earlier. Better than any of the scenarios he'd dreamed up over the months he'd spent thinking of his sweet little neighbour.

You fall into him with a sigh once you're full seated, cock buried deep.

"Doing so well," he says, hand squeezing a little at the back of your neck.

You mumble something into his neck in response. He can't quite make it out, but he swears, it almost sounds like a tiny 'thank you'. He has to keep himself from filling you at the thought of it.

His hands return to your hips. You must take it as a prompt because you lean back from him enough to begin lifting yourself off him and dropping again.

It's slow at first, a little swivel in your hips, grinding yourself down into him.

The apron prevents him from seeing how his cock looks slipping in and out of your little cunt. He hasn't even seen it, that sweet little hole between your legs.

Instead, he feels.

–

It makes sense that a man as pretty as him would have the prettiest cock. One you wanted to taste. One that would have you slippery and ready to take him.

There's this vein that throbs in his neck each time he drops his head back with a groan. His neck. God you want to lean forward and bite into it. But he might not be into that. Next time, you think. Or the time after that.

God you hope there's a next time.

His fingers dig into your hip as you sink all the way down again. It feels a little like he's resisting, holding back.

"Minho?"

His head lifts, eyes a little glassy as he blinks at you. "Hm?"

"You can fuck me," you tell him. "However you want. I want you to fuck me."

He blinks again. His fingers dig into your skin harder.

"Tell me when you wanna stop. Just tell me," he says.

You nod. Then he's leaning forward and tugging you against him. His lips press to your skin just at the crook of your neck.

Then you're falling. He falls over you. Then he lets go. He presses you into the couch cushions as he drives into you, hair falling over his face. He's even pretty like this, with parted lips and brows slightly furrowed.

Your skin slaps together as he fucks himself into you. Messy, he'd said. He liked messy.

That's what he gets as he continutes to drive into you, as you begin to drip around him, as he fucks that wetness into you and over your thighs and then the sounds it all makes.... messy.

"Wanna fill you," he mutters. "God, I wanna fill you so bad. Wanna fuck my cum into your sweet cunt."

You squeeze your eyes shut as he continues, overwhelmed.

"You can take it for me, angel. I know you can. Sweet little thing made just for me. I knew it." He's muttering so much you're hardly sure he even knows what he's saying. His fingers are almost painful as they dig into your skin, like he can't hold onto you hard enough.

"Fill me," you gasp.

He eyes lift from where you join together to lock on your face. "Yeah?" he asks, a slight croakiness breaking his words up a little. "I'll make you all warm and sticky inside, hm? Just like your pretty little pie? That sound nice?"

Oh god. There was something inside you, something made for this – for him. You knew this was going to ruin you forever.

"Please."

He falls over you, then he bites. He bites into you as he floods you full.

redlightdesign

fem!reader x hyunjin 

synopsis: you get tattooed by your favorite tattoo artist. 

warnings: !!!🔞!!! tattooartist!hyunjin, tattooing, needles, pain, oral (f!rec), use of teeth, overstim, multiple orgasms (f!rec), squirting, fingering, pussydrunkvibes, subspace kinda, prob forgot some sorry 

wc: 5.2k

an: I want a new tattoo </3 feedback appreciated! [m.list] not proof read sorry ;-;

You didn’t think you would ever get a consolation let alone an appointment with redlightdesign. For over three years you have been submitting a request anytime their books were open. You set timers for when the form dropped to make sure you were one of the first to be seen but everyone was doing the exact same thing. 

redlightdesign would make an announcement that the submissions were closed an hour later saying they were booked solid for the next three months. The process repeats itself and every time you pray you get a response. 

Thirteen forms later and you finally got an answer. Your dream tattoo will be underway in a matter of weeks. You made sure to keep the perfect space open for the piece. Not a single artist is the right fit to do your idea justice the way Redlightdesign could. 

Before you read the email you didn’t even think you would ever be picked, your thigh would just always be bare for the possibility that never would come to fruition. But sitting in a coffee shop on a Sunday morning avoiding finishing your homework for Monday's class you jump on the opportunity to check your phone when it dings. Post notifications for redlightdesign on since you started following them. Every time they announced open books or a dropped appointment you jumped to put yourself up for the running. You remember the magazine article Redlightdsign had been featured in that started your obsession. The anonymous tattoo artist is based in Seattle and New York, traveling across the states to get a wider audience. Not that they needed the help, they were globally known, with people submitting forms all around the world, purchasing plane tickets after they confirmed an appointment. 

It was stiff competition and the anonymity of the artist was sacred to each client. There was barely any information about Redlightdesign on the internet besides the finished product, and the address to their studios was only given out just before your appointment. Once the details of the New York studio had been doxxed online and redlightdesign had stopped working for a year, packing up and shutting down in well deserved retaliation. When they came back to their socials they made it clear the next time they wouldn't stop for a year but quit entirely. No one shared any information after, only stating that Redlightdesign was one of the nicest people they have ever been tattooed by and a photo of the beautiful work after. 

But there sipping on an almost empty drink avoiding work that needed to be done you felt your pulse race just like every other time you've submitted a form. Only this time your stomach bottomed out seeing the email that popped up in your inbox a few minutes later. 

h.rldesign/gmail.com Hi, I love your idea and sketches. I think this would transfer perfectly in my style. If we are to do the piece on the thigh at the size you want I think it's best we split the work into two appointments. My open slots for this would be January 9th and 10th. Let me know if these dates work for you and then I can get started on designing and cleaning up your idea. -redlightdesign 

even just knowing their email address was shocking enough, seeing a response could have sent you into a coma. If Redlightdesign needed you on the 9th and 10th you would do everything in your power to be right at their door. You didn't care if you had to call in sick, you would put on the most convincing fake cough known to man; you would sell out stadiums with the performance if need be. 

You couldn't type a response fast enough, needing to send in a confirmation just to know it was solidified. Within seconds you got a link for a deposit to hold the dates and a promise that Redlightdesign would be working on your piece asap. You were too excited to even think about your work anymore, sitting in the coffee shop staring down at your phone in disbelief. 

It was only a few days later when the first drafts of the tattoo you would be getting were sent over for you to approve. You could tell the work had been drawn in a sketchbook and scanned to send in an email, the charcoal lines and highlights showing the detailed work. It was everything you could have hoped for, redlightdesign taking the amateur rendering of your idea and turning it into the masterpiece sitting in your inbox. They promised to have perfected versions ready when you arrived early on the ninth, reminding you that they would transfer it into the stencil and use a pen to finish drawing the finishing touches to make sure it flowed with your body just right. Make sure to eat before the appointment and don't wear any lotions on the tattoo area. Take care to remember we can take as many breaks as you want you have the day booked up with me so no need to rush through just to get it over with. 

You made sure to dress appropriately. A pair of shorts you didn’t mind getting ink on in case any decided to ruin them. It was cold the morning of the ninth, a drizzle setting in as you made your way towards the address you had been sent before you had woken up. Even just seeing the street name and knowing this whole time you’ve been a fifteen-minute walk away from Redlights studio was bizarre. How many times have you driven by the building without ever knowing? 

The email with the address had said the door would be open and to take the stairs up to the loft. The separate space on the ground level was a bakery, the sign flipped to closed. But as you felt the first droplets of rain you pulled on the handle for the door only for it to not budge. You check the address again to make sure it is right, you can see the windows to the studio above but the curtains are pulled shut. You were running over the email you could send to redlightdesign, reading it over once more when someone reached past you making you jump. “holy shit you almost gave me a heart attack,” you breathe your phone pressed to your chest. 

The soft laugh of the person beside you is muffled behind the black medical mask they wear, long dark hair hanging on their brow leaving only smiling eyes glancing over you. “I'm sorry I was running late and didn't make it in time to beat you here,” they push their key into the lock twisting until it clicks, painted nails wrapping around the handle to hold the door open for you. 

You give a weak thanks stepping into the little hallway leading to the stairs waiting for them to step in and follow. 

You're trying hard not to make it seem like you're staring at them but it's almost impossible not to. Right in front of you is the person whose identity has been hidden from the public for years. You've tried to imagine what redlightdesign looked like since you read that magazine article. Now with the early morning mist still stuck to their hair you were seconds away from knowing exactly what they were like. Watching how their long fingers flipped over the keys looking for the one to unlock the loft door, how they used their shoulder to push open the door turning back to give you smiling eyes, waving you in. 

They moved around to pull open the long cream-colored curtains, the gray light pouring in revealing the space. The walls have tacked up charcoal drawings, painted landscapes, and oil pastel flowers. A worn brown leather couch pushed to one side, heavy white blanket pushed back like someone had taken a nap there against the throw pillows. Tattoo bed next to rows of inks and past designs. On another wall a cluster of polaroids, stepping closer you can see its every tattoo that redlightdesign has done here. You're excited to see ones they haven't posted on their socials, so distracted you don't hear a closet door opening and the wheeling of a cart behind you. “I wanted to be set up so we could get started right away but,” when you turn you see them shrug. The view outside of the waterfront off in the distance matches some of the paintings done during different times of the day. 

“It's okay I can wait, we're booked all day right?” 

“yes that's right,” they go through their bag pulling out a large sketchbook, “here take a seat and we can go over some of these together,” 

they sink into the couch pushing back the blanket to make room for you to follow. Your thighs touching before they hand over the sketchbook. You're amazed by the craftsmanship, and the detail put into each variety of the tattoo idea you have given them. No other artist has given you so many possibilities, maybe one of two but a whole spread dedicated to small details was never on the table. redlightdesign had taken time working through this with passion. “Wow,” you breathe not knowing where to look first. 

“do you like it? It's a big thing, a tattoo of this size, and I wanted to make sure it really had all the elements you wanted in it while also not being too chaotic and messy. You see this one has less shading and seems more open but this one is heavy-handed if you're into that kinda style. I see you have other work done on your arms and if you want to go that way style-wise I think this one would be perfect,” they point at the one you've been focused on knowing that it was exactly what you wanted. 

“It's amazing, they all are, I'm so impressed redli-“

“Hyunjin, you can call me Hyunjin,” they chuckle, “I should have introduced myself earlier but I was late and it slipped my mind I'm sorry,” 

“no, it's okay thank you hyunjin,” you try the name in your mouth, “I think this is exactly what I want, better than what I could have imagined,” 

“great I'm happy to impress let me get this printed in a stencil and we can add anything else after we find the right placement,” you watch as they stand moving to the corner with a desk, you can't see their face but know they've taken their mask off as they turn on the printer. “Do you live around here or was it a commute?” 

“oh I live right up the street, I was surprised to see how close it was to my place actually,” you say over the sound of the scanner. 

“that's good, sometimes I have people coming from all over it's fun to finally have a local visit,” 

“I would have come out to New York if that's where you would have been,” you admit. 

“I haven't been out there in a while, they are doing construction on the street the studio is on so I've been located here for a while now,” he states pulling out the stencil sheet. “I did a few different sizes to start with,” 

he turns around and you're shocked at how beautiful Hyunjin is. In all the time you've thought about redlightdesign never did it cross your mind to account for prettiness but if you did your scale would be broken. You're still seated when he comes over and kneels in front of you. 

“Can I?” he asks looking up at you, your hands in your lap covering your thighs.

“oh yeah sure,” you're flustered lifting your hands away. 

“left or right?” he asks, holding two of the stencils over each leg. 

“right,” your hands sinking into the couch as Hyunjin wipes his thumb over your bare thigh. He shows you the three different sizes and you decide on one before he asks you to stand in front of the mirror so he can place the stencil on. 

“Here,” he mutters, being gentle to get the placement right in the first go. “We can always print more if you don't like it here,” he blows cool air over the purple lines traced on to make sure it's dry enough for you to move. He slides his hand behind the pit of your knee tugging your leg. You reach out to steady yourself with his shoulders, the backs of your hands feeling the tickle of his long hair hanging past his ears. He lifts your leg enough so that your foot is resting on his thigh, his hands slipping over your skin checking it looks good. 

You love the way he's found the perfect spot on your thigh so that it flows with your body, “I think you got it first try,” 

“Look in the mirror first just to make sure,” he lets you go, pulling himself to stand behind you so that you can see yourself. 

“yes it's perfect,” and he nods, grabbing a purple pen. 

“finishing touches then,” he gets back down in front of you lifting your foot back to his knee so that he can steady you. The marker is cold on your skin as he draws, adding lines and shading in spots to make the work blend better. When he blows on the wet lines of ink you shiver especially when he draws on your inner thigh, your skin so sensitive you swear you could imagine his fingers tracing shapes instead of the pen. “Perfect,” he states, giving your knee a tap letting you know he's done. “Let me set up and if you need the bathroom before we start I'd go now. I have water and a kettle for coffee over under the desk, and we can stop for lunch around let's say twelve or one-ish?” 

You nod, taking your seat on the tattoo bed. He's set it up so that you're slightly leaned back but still sitting up. You watch him pull on black gloves and get all of the inks and needles ready, following a system you've seen done before. He clicks on a stereo the soft song playing in the background just loud enough for us to talk if we wanted to or just to listen. you adjust in your seat when you hear the sound of the tattoo gun whirring, hyunjins free hand stretching your skin in preparation, “The hard part will be around the knee so let's get that area out of the way,” 

you nod watching as he starts, the familiar burn of the needle digging in but not too painfully. He was right that it was worse than some of your other tattoos but not unbearable. What distracts you is how concentrated he looks leaning over your leg, hair pushed back behind his ears but one strand hangs across his forehead, the corner of his lip between his teeth. 

He starts to ask you small questions about yourself, the conversation leading to learning about him and how he got into tattooing. He talks about his art and the little things he likes. Both of you are so invested in one another that you don't even notice how far you've come in the day, lunch already rolling around before you know it. He's gotten through more than half the outline when he starts the loose wrap to keep it clean while you go out for lunch. The bakery is just downstairs offering lunch deals you can't refuse and when you get back upstairs both of you sit on the couch and continue your conversation. Giggling over nothing much but being comfortable in each other's company more than what you could have asked for. 

redlightdesign could have been a total dick but you were blessed enough to get someone so genuinely kind and talented. And when you got back in the chair to finish the day's session you were sad to know that tomorrow would be the last time you saw Hyunjin unless you somehow got another appointment. The idea in it of itself was making you dread leaving. 

“Could you tie my hair up?” he asks lifting his wrist up to you, a hair band waiting for you to take off. You lean over taking the tie from him and running your fingers through the dark strands. He hums as you brush the hair from his face gathering it all to tie into a ponytail. “thank you,” he nods letting the end bob up and down, a sweet smile teasing his lips before he goes back to the linework. 

When he finally declares you done for the day you sigh, his thumb smoothing over the ends of the tape he's put to hold the wrap he put over your thigh. His finger slips across your inner thigh making you jolt harder than when the needle was to your skin. “sensitive?” he asks and you nod, not wanting to think too much into it. You were definitely sensitive but not from the pain, watching his long fingers work over your skin didn't put the cleanest image in your head. 

He starts to break down his workstation, cleaning up and wiping everything to disinfect. While you put on your coat he asks, “Do you want to get dinner?” you turn to make sure he is not on the phone but he is in fact asking you, “I know this great spot a block over it's not that far a walk if you're up for it?” 

“Sure,” you nod and he rubs the back of his neck. 

“You know if you're not busy or anything I don't usually ask clients out for dinner but we were having a good chat and you know if you don't want to,” he drags on his ears pink, it was cute to watch him flustered. 

“I'd love to go to dinner with you hyunjin,” you smile following him out. 

You share an umbrella as you make your way to the small cafe-style restaurant, outdoor seating covered with a canopy so you won't get hit by any rain. Sitting across from one another, Hyunjin asks to see your other tattoos. You lay one arm down on the table, hyunjins fingertips ghosting over your skin as he traces the lines of all your other work. “I think I've seen this one before, did you get it from Felix? Or what's his username…”

“youg.ink?” you nod, “I actually got it because I saw you mentioned them before and it introduced me to their work. instantly fell in love with this when he offered it up,” 

hyunjins not even paying attention to the tattoos anymore as he lets his fingers glide over your smooth skin. Most times after a client was done for the day in his chair he walked them to the door, waved goodbye, and worked in the studio on the next person's design. Most times he had people who he didn't mind not seeing again but you and your laugh, your gentle conversation, made him want to break his own rules for once. He walks you home after dinner and promises to see you tomorrow at the same time. 

When you show up for your second session you're double fisting two iced coffees; the door is already unlocked as you make your way up the stairs. Hyunjin is sitting at the desk with headphones on sketching away before he sees the movement in the corner of his eye. He gives you a big smile, all teeth and is so cute. He tugs his headphones off letting them hang around his neck, “you got me a coffee?” 

“Maybe or maybe I have a caffeine addiction,” you joke, handing over his cup. You look over to see what he's working on and he leans back to give you a better view. 

“The next client wants their back done, it will be spaced out over the next four months. first sessions tomorrow,” 

“I wouldn't even know where to start on something that big,” 

“the same way I started yours,” he looks down at your legs, the wrap still in place only today you're wearing a skirt instead of shorts. The only other clothing item you felt would give him space to work today. Hyunjin looks back to his sketchbook, shutting it and standing. “let's get you up on the chair and get started,” 

you follow his instructions, sinking back into the chair and letting your skirt bunch between your legs to expose your thigh. Hyunjin starts to set up his station, pulling on his gloves after flipping to the sketch of your design to have to glance at while he works. “might hurt today with all the shading if you need any breaks let me know we can go as slow as you need,” he peels away the tape before cleaning your leg with a towel and watered down soap. “It already looks good,” he nods, pressing around the tattoo. 

“I think I can handle it,” 

“Okay, we can work the bottom to the top again today, get the area closest to the knee and get the most painful bit first,” 

and you think you can handle it and you can for the most part but the dragging of the needle over the still red outline from yesterday is painful today. Your hand bunching in your skirt as you remind yourself to breathe. You let your head roll back in the chair not able to watch anymore, focusing on the music playing, the dull hum of the tattoo gun usually comforting you but now a reminder that you're here for a while. 

hyunjin is trying to concentrate, he's great at what he does, but what's testing him is how you're flashing your panties at him. he was going to say something, bring up a conversation about anything but when he looked up, a simple glance he was face to face with the dark grey fabric, the outline of you silencing him. You didn't even notice, your neck exposed as your free hand not holding your skirt gripped the armrest. 

Tattooing people made nudity and almost nudity normal. It was why Hyunjin preferred his private studio so that he could make people feel comfortable, it was better than having someone who wanted a hip tattoo strip in a shop where anyone could watch. But with you sitting in front of him he forgot that he shouldn't look so close. Because instead of ignoring the view he was imagining ways that he could make your pain more bearable. Imagining how if he reached over and brushed where he knew your clit would be waiting you wouldn't be moaning in pain. 

It's not until lunch that your skirt is let go but it's done the work of keeping Hyunjin hard for the entirety of the progress he's made toward the tattoo. When he sprays the tattoo down with the soapy water beads roll back up your leg because of the way the chairs are angled. The cold water feels great against your hot skin and Hyunjin apologizes for the mess passing you a paper towel to wipe any that got too far. You slightly lift your leg to wipe your inner thighs, the movement flashing Hyunjin again only this time the droplets of water had dampened your panties. The gray fabric was dark where he had been fantasizing they would be. 

He doesn't even want to think about standing from his stool knowing that the second he does he will have to adjust himself only drawing attention to the fact he is very hard. He tries to make a list of things in his head as he wraps your thigh. To think about how it's almost over, that you will be gone in the next hour or two but that only makes it worse. You would be gone when he was this needy? He wanted to make an excuse to have you come back for another session. But it was quite obvious he would be dragging out the appointment when he only needed to do a small section when the two of you were done with lunch. He could have waited and finished, pushed your lunch back, and waved goodbye but no. 

He swiveled his chair away from you, taking a sip from his almost empty cup of coffee as you slid down the bed to stand. Hyunjin takes a breath and prays you don't notice but it's the first thing you see when he turns, the strained outline not very well hidden. You pretend to look out the window, feeling your cheeks get hot. All you can think about is if it was your noises that did it, all the whimpering wasn't usually how you handled tattoos but this one was the biggest piece you've gotten, and didn't know two sessions would make your usually composed self break so easily. it would explain the silence compared to yesterday. So you toy with the idea, how far would he go if you made yourself available? 

You grabbed lunch together, hyunjin putting a pillow over his lap to steady his plate of food but both of you knew that wasn't the real reason. And when you were back in the chair you intentionally let your skirt roll up this time. It doesn't help that he's now working on the part of the tattoo closest to your center, how he wraps his hand around your thigh, pushing your legs further apart to reach a spot on your inner thigh. Gloved fingers brushing over your panties for the smallest second, your hips sinking into the seat to keep yourself from moving. Hyunjin noticed but needed to get through the rest of the tattoo, if he stopped now he wouldn't know when he would start again. Your lip between your teeth he watched as you tried to close your legs again to block your exposed panties, now wet with your slick and nothing else. He could see the spot and almost ripped his gloves off as soon as he finished his work. But now he was teasing you. Cleaning the tattoo down and wiping it down. He doesn't even bother with the normal photos he would take right away instead putting on the second skin to protect the tattoo. As he smooths the thin film over your inner thigh he lets his fingers slip up brushing against your center to see your reaction. 

Your head rolls to your shoulder watching him through your lashes as he takes off his gloves and tosses them on the cart. He lifts the armrest on the tattoo chair before reaching behind your knees to pull you to the edge of the seat so your legs are dangling off the side. “how is it someone can make the prettiest sounds and sit so still for me?” he leans down and plants a kiss on your tattooless thigh, “because all I could think about was how I wanted to see your legs shaking for me while you whined like that,” 

you tried to draw your knees together but he was in the way, kissing up your inner thigh, nipping at your skin with his teeth. When he reached your skirt he flipped it up with a lazy hand giving you no time before his thumb was over your clit rubbing a harsh circle over the fabric. You felt the shock run up to your stomach, your voice breathy as you whimpered his name. He followed the wet line down the front of your panties before hooking his finger along the seam to pull them back. He wanted one taste, needed one taste but knew he wouldn't stop at just one, not when you looked this edible and ready for him. 

He ravages your clit, your hands shooting to his head burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks. He's careful of your tattoo but your other thigh is fair game for him to wrap his arm around and push you open, fingers bruising with how he spreads you. His free hand prodded your entrance, circling in your wetness before slipping in knuckle deep. “Hyunjin,” you whine, your hips rocking against his lips, feeling the build up of your orgasm. He curls his fingers pressing up into you enough to make your legs jerk from the new angle. 

You're seeing spot before too long, hips stuttering as he gives a final hard suck, fingers still as you clench around them. You're moaning so loud you're sure someone will hear but you don't even care. Hyunjin doesn't stop the flick of his tongue against your clit making you cry out, “I said I wanted to see them shake,” devilish smile covered in your slick before he latches on to your clit again. Fingers pumping in and out of you before he presses deeper into you. You can feel tears at the corners of your eyes, and when he pulls away slightly to let his teeth brush your clit you're done for, legs trembling as you cum. He is persistent and you have to tug his head away, a slight smile stuck on his wet lips as he watches your body shake from the overstimulation. “once more?” 

“I can't- I can't do it,” you shake your head but he drags his fingers out slowly before inching them back in, your hips jumping. 

“I know you can, you've been doing so good for me already, one more time won't hurt,” he hums, dipping his nose down to brush over your nub. Jolting at the feeling he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh, slowly building up speed with his fingers, “can't you do just one more?” it's the way he asks so softly, the heavy gaze under heavier eyelids that makes you nod. 

You're so sensitive that one lick has you shaking, your orgasm feeling so far and yet so close all at once. His tongue laps through your folds circling your clit. Hyunjin is obsessed with the taste of you, completely under the spell of your pussy and how it responds to his touch. He could go all night eating you out, watching as you fell apart again and again before him. Your cries are getting louder and before you know it your back is arching into him almost coming off the seat, your orgasm so intense you don't expect the clear fluid to squirt out of you until it has. 

You're breathing so labored you place a hand over your chest to try and calm yourself. hyunjins pleased grin is the only thing you see before he pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in his mouth to clean them. Every once in a while your legs jerk from an aftershock, the delight in his eyes worth how tired you feel. Your thighs are sticking to the leather seat under you as Hyunjin pulls your underwear back into place leaning down to leave a ghost of a kiss over your clothed clit. “next time I want you to cry this pretty for my cock okay?”

— [3:53am]

AUTHORS NOTE ; this is a repost from my old blog ( chrisbahng-old ). this is the only place this has been reposted and any other reposts are not me nor are they allowed. I am hoping to have new content soon and appreciate all the support so far <3

warnings ; chan is called alpha, breeding, petnames (puppy, angel, baby)

“Channie, it’s s’ big,” you wined as your boyfriend filled you only halfway full of his thick cock.

“I know, baby.” Chan cooed, bringing his hand to rest on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. “But look,” he brought his eyes from yours to where you two connected. “Alpha’s already halfway in you.”

“Only half?” your gaze left Chan’s as you peered down to see if he was telling the truth. A moan escaped your lips at the sight of him slowly pushing the rest if himself into you.

“You’re taking me so well, pup.” Chan groaned as he nearly bottomed out in you. “Taking my cock like it was made for you, yeah?”

You whimpered in response; hearing him praise you was something you would never tire of hearing.

“That’s my good puppy,” Chan whispered as his hips met yours for the first time that night. Chan let out a blissful sigh and brought his attention back up to you, your puppy-dog eyes watering with tears again and Chan leans his forehead against yours.

“C’mon, I know you can take it, love. I haven’t even properly fucked you yet.” He said, closing his eyes as he starts to pull himself out of you.

“Hurts, alpha, it hurts,” you finally mumble out and Chan smiles down at you softly.

“Shh, angel, you’re gonna be alright. I’m here, alpha’s here.” Chan kissed your lips before pulling out to the tip and thrusting himself back into you. “Shit, puppy,” he cursed as his hips met yours. “How the fuck are still this fucking tight,”

His words made you tighten the grip you had on his shoulders, your nails digging into his soft skin and leaving little moons. “You think your little cunt would be sloppy and messy, but fuck,”

You clenched at his words and whimpered  when he pulled himself back out again. Chan repeated his motions, pulling out to the tip before slamming back into you, but progressively got more and more merciless.

Your mind went hazy, trying to think of any coherent thought or word to say was like reaching for something that wasn’t there. The only thing you knew is that you were reaching your end.

“Channie,” you croak, “‘m close,”

“Aww, is my puppy gonna cum? Hmm?”

You nodded, not knowing how much longer you could hold on. “Please,” you begged. “Please let me cum on your cock,”

Chan’s jaw clenched at your words. He hears you mutter them enough, but it still gets him every single time.

“Fuck, pup. Alpha’s gonna cum,” he said through gritted teeth, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Cum in me, please,” you whine, bringing your hips up to meet his.

Those four words was all it took for Chan to lose it, he thrust himself into you harder than he’s ever done and bit down on your supple flesh. You could feel his cock twitching as he let go inside you. You felt warm, not hot, but warm.

A soft smile spread to your lips when Chan pulled out of you for the final time that night.

Chan sat up on his knees, admiring his work. “You look so pretty, my love. All my cum spilling out of you like this. You’ll be even prettier when you’re all pregnant with my pups, yeah?”

Chan leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, then nose and forehead. “Thank you, alpha,”

“Of course, pup. Now why don’t we run a bath, get us cleaned up a bit.” He replied.

You nodded in return, stretching your arms out for Chan to pick you up, not trusting your legs at the current moment. Chan lifted you up and kissed the top of your head. “You did so well tonight, I’m so proud of you.”