↳ genre; suggestive, fluff if you squint, soulmate!au
↳ summary; your leg is killing you, but that doesn’t stop you from getting a new tattoo.
↳ word count; 2,448
HAPPY BELATED CHANGBIN DAY! I hope he had an amazing day and that he smiled till his cheeks hurt. I hope that he ate well, stayed safe and overall go all the happiness that he deserves.
↳ a/n; I got a little carried away with this fic, just a tiny bit. thank you to @haechaaaaaaanssi for beta reading and helping me make this header because my brain does not understand the concept of headers. hugs for janna. anyways, I hope that you enjoy this angels <3
↳ inspo; these pics and touchy feely by ro james (can y’all believe that someone gave that to me as a song rec lol)
↳ warning(s); making out
It was getting harder and harder to walk towards the parlor.
You weren’t sure if it was because of the nerves partying in your stomach or the increasing pressure around your right calf, or maybe, it was both. Turning back briefly, you saw your friend give you a thumbs up. The tiny encouragement sparked an ounce of determination, and with that, you tightened your grip on the warm cup of coffee in your hand and pushed open the door to the dimly lit tattoo parlor with a blinking neon ‘open sign’.
Presented in front of you was a small waiting room, the lighting as dark as the tinted windows showed. Covering the wall behind the wooden front counter were various pictures of previous customers’ designs. Decorated on the other black-painted walls were simply just framed sketches.
You were alone in the parlor.
Light shone behind the black curtains leading to, what you presumed, were the work stations for the employees. You could faintly hear the buzz of machinery and the hum of a fan. The pain in your leg thumped your hand into action. Hesitantly, you pressed on the bell resting on the counter.
As you waited, you turned your attention back to the framed papers hanging on the walls. They were all very pretty, but they didn’t compare to the one that you had in mind. Remembering the piece of paper, you reached into your back pocket. It was odd how you came about it; simply waking up at the crack of dawn with a pencil in hand and a beautiful sketch of vines and flowers on a white sheet of paper in front of you. At that moment, you were heavily thinking about pursuing your career as an artist. Instead, your friend convinced you to get it tattooed on your body.
The first tattoo parlor that came to mind was the one across the street, conveniently, right across the cafe you worked at.
“That regular who never talks works there, right?”
Of course Felix would remind you of Changbin, the seemingly never smiling tattoo artist who would only utter his order before leaving to his table. You looked at the sketches hanging under his name. While they were all very pretty, one specific design caught your interest.
Stepping away from the oddly short counter and past the worn out leather seats sitting next to the entrance door, you shot one hand out towards the one paper hanging loosely by a transparent blue tac pin. The ache started to increase, almost as if the vines imprinted on the skin of your leg were tightening.
Before you could fully compare your own design to his, a hand shot past your ear.
“Can I help you?” came out the gruff voice.
You turned around with a grimace. With each second that ticked, the ache in your calf didn’t seem to falter. For a moment, you held your breath, for you were met with the dark gaze of the Changbin. He always looked peaceful while drawing in his sketchbook as he occasionally glanced outside the window to observe the people passing by, yet here, he didn’t look too happy with his furrowed brows and irritated dip of his lips.
Glancing down at the harsh grip he held on the paper with his right hand, you explained that you were here to get a tattoo. Your gaze lingered on the ink peeping through the crumpled lines. “This… is a tattoo place, right?” you questioned, finding the courage to look back up at him.
Perhaps your words confused him because his once irritated expression morphed into one that you could only describe as a constipated scrunch. His eyes squinted slightly, brows accompanied by line etched in between and a slightly gapped mouth.
“Did you read the sign that says Stray Tattoos?”
You smiled brightly at the boy, “Of course not, I just randomly decided to visit this mysterious looking store across my cafe.”
He clicked his tongue before turning around and walking behind the counter. You followed along, hoping that your limp wasn’t showing as you struggled to deal with the horrid throbbing in your leg.
“You have a design in mind?” he asked, bringing out his sketchbook.
“That one,” you told him.
He raised a brow at your pointed finger. The paper he previously tore from the wall was still clutched in his hand. “No.”
You blinked, “What?”
“It’s not a design.”
“Then why was it on the wall?”
Changbin stared at you with an unreadable expression, “It’s not now, so go choose a different design.”
You frowned, “Why can’t I get that one?”
“I told you, it’s not a design for sale,” he pursed, “and you most definitely did not have this in mind. It’s not posted on our website or any of our social media accounts.” His frown deepened, confusion written in his eyes, “Even if it was, no one should be able to see the design.”
He mumbled the last part, but you managed to catch onto his small words. You smiled cheekily in response, “Well maybe I’m special since I’m able to see it.”
Wholeheartedly, you meant it as a joke. Changbin’s dead serious face didn’t seem to take it as a joke. He wanted to say, ‘you must be’ but he knew better–soulmates don’t exist.
He rolled his eyes, “Whatever. The point is, you can’t get this tattoo.”
You pursed your lips, “Fine, then I want this one.” You pulled out the folded piece of paper from your back pocket and slapped it onto the counter. Changbin’s eyes widened as he stared at the identical design you gave him.
Before he had a chance to speak, he was interrupted by the voice of a blond boy with a dimpled grin. “Are you giving our customer a hard time?” he chastised.
“Hello there! I’m Chan.” He placed a hand on the shoulder of his fellow grumpy co-worker. “Don’t mind Changbin here, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”
Changbin slapped away the hand of his friend.
“See,” Chan whispered, a hand covering his mouth from Changbin’s view, “he’s a bit sensitive today.”
You chuckled, “It’s okay, I just gave him my design.”
Chan followed your gesture towards the folded paper that Changbin was holding against another crumpled paper. Confusion flashed in Chan’s eyes for a brief moment before he hid it with a gleam of playfulness. “I see, you guys are exchanging secret sketches.”
“Secret sketches?” you echoed.
“Yeah, did you guys use invisible ink or something–” he vaguely gestured towards the papers–”because there’s nothing on there.”
You would’ve laughed at him if it weren’t for the pinch of pain that pulsed through your leg.
“What do you mean? There’s designs on both of those papers,” you frowned.
Something sparked in Chan’s eyes and he gave a knowing look to Changbin.
There was a silent battle of glances between the two, one that you witnessed without much focus. You were too busy remembering the bothersome prickling in your leg. Frown deepening, you focused on the warmth of the coffee cup you held in your hand, hoping that the warmth could transfer to your leg. You cleared your throat. “Well if today isn’t a good time, I can just leave. Oh, and uh,” you placed the now cooling cup down on the counter, “this is for you, Changbin, since you didn’t come to the cafe today.”
You bit the inside of your lip, hating how the pain increased tenfold when Changbin made eye-contact with you. You gave a slight nod and let out a silent wince when you turned around–conveniently missing how he expressed a small grimace.
“Wait,” he called out, “You can get the tattoo.”
-
You anxiously wiggled in the black leather chair when Changbin entered the room.
Wordlessly, he sat down on a chair next to you. He didn’t seem to be concerned that you didn't have any pants on, but then again, he hasn’t glanced once at you since he arrived. He was quite content on his needles, jaw clenched. Your leg throbbed, unbearingly so–you let out a whimper.
He casted his eyes on yours, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you weakly replied, “just nervous.”
“First time?”
You nodded. Slowly, he trailed his gaze down your neck, past your chest and down to your bare legs. He stayed focused on the vines wrapped around your calf–a new wave of pain washed over you.
“But it looks like you already got one? Unless it’s fake,” he observed, your wince unnoticed by the fact that he tried to ignore the insufferable sting in his right shoulder. “These vines match the ones on your calf,” he added.
“Would you believe me if I said that it was marked there when I was born?” you managed to gasp out, sweat starting to form against your hairline despite the wind blowing towards you.
Pain clear in your voice, he quickly turned to you with concern, “Are you sure you’re okay? We can do this another day.”
“I’m-” before you could utter ‘fine’, you let out a yelp, your hand moving to your calf to rub away the pain. Changbin dropped the needle on the floor and instinctively reached for your extended hand.
Suddenly, it stopped.
Everything stopped, it seemed. The needle stopped midway to the ground, the fan blowing in the corner froze, the clock’s hand paused, the rapid acceleration of your heart slowed, but most importantly, the ache in your leg dissipated.
Your breath hitched when the vines around your leg started to unravel. You felt breathless as they grew. You followed as the vine slowly trailed up your leg, the slow beat of your heart suddenly loud in your ears when you saw another vine out of the corner of your eye.
There were no words you could speak when you realized that the other vine was trailing down Changbin’s arm. You spared a quick glance up at his eyes. They sparkled with the same awe as yours. Letting out a breath of disbelief, you looked back down at the two vines moving towards each other. Your vine moved up to Changbin’s knuckles that were touching the skin of your thigh and connected to his vine that curled around his wrist.
When the two vines interlocked, pure serenity fell over the two of you. Flower buds blossomed in the trails of the vines. Slowly, Changbin let go of your hand. Once the two of you were no longer touching, time resumed; the needle started falling again, the fan resumed cooling the room, the clock started to tick, your heart never actually stopped beating but it sure felt like it, and the ache in your leg throbbed faintly. The vines started to retract, budding flowers starting to disappear.
As light as a feather, Changbin touched one of the flower buds. The two of you were sucked back into a frozen universe within a split second. His thumb smoothened over the bud as it started to blossom, vines extending and curling towards his touch. You could only watch with a held in breath as he leaned closer towards the flower. As if in a trance, he pressed his lips softly against your skin. The pillowly touch of his lips was light, yet it still managed to make your heart flutter and it elicited a gasp from your mouth.
Too in awe at the colors inking your skin and flooding the outlined flower, you failed to notice how Changbin regretted his action. It wasn’t until he pulled away did you realize that he was spouting out countless apologies–he thought that he overstepped his boundaries.
Before he could fully dismiss his touch, you cupped his face. You tried not to get distracted by the vines creeping up his neck and growing to where you hand lie.
“Hey,” you murmured, “it’s okay.”
His brown eyes were blown wide, a haze swirling in the galaxy of his iris. “Are you sure-”
You chuckled and nuzzled your nose against his, “Did you know how many times I thought that this vine on my leg was some useless birthmark? Never did I ever think that it was my soulmate mark.”
“I thought soulmates didn’t exist anymore,” he admitted, eyes glancing down at your lips for a moment.
“I didn’t either, although, I did feel a certain pull towards you whenever you visited the shop,” you confessed, “but then again, that could’ve been because I thought you were cute.”
He raised a brow, “Cute?”
You smiled, “Yes, cute with your beanie and sketchbook, just drawing away while admiring the pedestrians passing by.”
Something about you calling him cute didn’t sit well in his stomach. “Cute,” he repeated, almost scoffing out. Your heart started to speed up as he slightly pushed you into the chair. He hovered over you, breath mixing with yours. He pecked kisses from the corner of your lips all the way down to your collarbone. Flowers bloomed and colors exploded on the flesh of the two of you.
Together you painted a beautiful picture.
Your breaths became shallow as you felt his tongue swipe against your skin. He colored your skin as he moved back up. His kisses trailed along your jaw and aimed at the corner of your mouth, never quite planting his lips on yours.
“Kiss me,” you whispered.
With a small smirk, he slowly connected his lips with yours. There was no hurry in his actions, afterall, the clock was no longer ticking. He never stayed more than a second before pulling away. His eyes glimmered with amusement as you chased after his lips each time.
“Changbin,” you whined when he disconnected his mouth from yours for the nth time.
The way you breathed out his name made him break.
He pushed his mouth against yours, teeth clashing and temperature rising. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip. Saliva mixed together just as the vines around you twirled within each other. The leather beneath you started to stick to you as you wiggled around.
You tugged at the hem of his shirt which prompted him to quickly remove the material. With hot pants leaving your mouth, you marveled over the numerous vines penned from his neck, connected to his shoulder blades and curling down to his torso. You trailed your hands along the path of vines, flowers blooming with each touch. When he exhaled a shaky breath, you chuckled.
“Cute,” you teased, pressing a kiss to a flower on his jaw.
The color pouring into the petals of the flower contrasted the darkness that engulfed his eyes.
He mocked your chuckle, “Oh, baby, I’ll show you cute.”
