#H.L. Day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamjaemin · 4 months

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꒰ "Be brave, Angel" ꒱ 彡 ♡ ⋆｡˚ (m.l and h.l)

summary:you want your first tattoo. but are you ready to deal with who will do this to you?

Word count: 6k!

Pairing: tattooartist!mark × tattooartist!haechan × f!reader

Content: fuckboy!mark/haechan, slutty!reader, Praising, petnames(good girl, princess, ect), friends with benefits,teasing ,threesome, double penetration (pussy and ass), ass and pussy spanking, unprotected sex,creampie ,no mention of aftercare :( , lmk if i miss any.

A/n:This is based on the poll I posted before I know y’all voted the most for mark but some besties wants them both like I don't blame them bc I'm down bad for this two. I'm literally busy but yeah here it is I hope you like it, thanks for your time bestie, enjoy♡.

the soft tinkling of bells rang out as you opened the studio door, but your nerves were so sensitive that you flinched as if the sound had been amplified by large speakers. The frigid air inside the studio ruffled the hairs on your arms and you pulled your cardigan tighter around you, immediately recognizing the soft music playing in the background.

If this was a visit like one of the other times you’ve been here with your friends, for company and support in getting their tattoos and piercings, then you would have been able to once again admire the modern decor and beautiful artwork hangs on the walls - all strategically placed to catch the attention and arouse the interest of clients.

But this was no ordinary visit. For once you weren’t here for your friends. You were here for yourself.

No one but you and Johnny knew of your intention to get your first tattoo and you didn’t want to change that, wanting to surprise your friends since they had been encouraging you to get it for years.

That was weeks ago, and frankly, you’d almost forgotten that you’d expressed that wish to Johnny. At least until you got a message from him, asking you to come down to the studio as soon as possible to see the finished artwork that he would use as a base to finally get your tattoo done. You weren’t nervous until that moment.

But when the possibility of getting a tattoo stopped being a ‘possibility’ and became a matter of 'when’, you started to regret your own decision.

It’s been three days since you received the message and only today did you pluck up the courage to come to the studio.

But judging by the way your hands were cold and clammy you didn’t think you had mustered enough courage.

Swallowing down the nerves you took a deep breath and looked towards the reception desk, but there was no one there.

Oh.

You are completely alone.

That means there’s still time to turn around and walk out the same door you just came through, right? Yes right. It would be the perfect excuse.

“Well, at least I tried.” You said softly, already turning towards the exit.

“Y/N?” The melodious sound of Haechan’s voice interrupted your hurried steps, and you squeaked through your teeth, knowing it would be very difficult to escape now.

“Y/N! Wait, what are you doing here? Are you expecting one of your friends?” He asked already walking towards you, not noticing - or choosing to ignore - the tense expression on your face, choosing to hold his arms out to you in an invitation to hug.

“Hi, Hyuck. Uh, not really, not exactly…” You replied, accepting his warm hug. When he let go and looked at you questioningly, you sighed.

“I’m here because Johnny said he finished the artwork I asked him to create. I’ve been talking to him about getting a tattoo.” The last part you said in a whisper.

“Really?” He smiled brightly in response and added,“if that’s what you really want, you can bet it’ll all be worth it when the job is done.”You brightened up a bit, nodding slowly and offering him a gentle smile, silently grateful for his support.

The nervous knot in your stomach felt a little less dull thanks to hyuck's sweet words.“But I’m afraid unfortunately we can’t do that today, dear.” He said in an apologetic tone, looking disappointed in himself.

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head in confusion, waiting for his next words.

“Johnny isn’t even here. Today he went to a family meeting, as we’re near to closing time for the studio, he’s already left.”

Closing time?You looked up at the clock on the wall, blushing and stuttering an embarrassed response when you saw that he was right, the hand almost reaching the closing time mark for the studio.

You squealed with your hands over your mouth.“Oh my God! I’m sorry. I didn’t even pay attention to the time. I should have checked the time before coming.”

Damn, it was just like you to be embarrassed like that.

“Hey, no need to apologize, if i know where's the artwork I would have done it myself. I’m sure Johnny wouldn’t mind staying after hours to see you, but he really can’t miss this meeting.”

“D-don’t worry about it, really. I’ll come back another day, it’s no problem to-”

“I’ll attend her.”

You both looked at the source of that voice, both of you surprised by the sudden appearance of someone else in the room.

There, casually leaning against the doorframe, taboo clutched between the long fingers of one hand, the other comfortably tucked into his pants pocket, was mark lee.

His body was covered in black clothes as usual. Combat boots and jeans, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the numerous tattoos on his arms.

“Oh, mark, this is Y/N, she’s the client of-”

“I know who she is. I said I’ll attend her, the art is in my office along with the others.”

The abrupt cut left your cheeks red and you looked away at the man beside you, leaving them to stare at each other in the tense silence afterwards.

You were about to say that you didn’t need him to attend to you, but Haechan spoke first.

“That would be amazing”

You heard Mark breathe a little bit heavily, the sound piquing your curiosity until you looked up at him, seeing that his gaze had now fallen on you – disturbingly bored and somehow still so intense.

He keeps looking at you like he’s sizing you up with that sleepy look; like he’s trying to understand you just by the way you’re standing there next to his friend and your friend bc you talked with hyuck comfortably so many times but mark...you didn’t have the chance.

The man before you doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that you’ll find his obvious inspection impolite.

No, instead he just stares you down from head to toe completely, undisguised and not saying a word as he does it twice. By God, twice!You always felt like there was a suffocating tension surrounding the two of you, even though you haven’t exchanged a single word with each other in the months you’ve been in the studio with your girls.

You always told yourself that it was all in your head, but when he looked at you like that it was almost impossible to control your own thoughts.

With a shudder you break your gaze and fix your attention on Haechan again.

“No, don’t worry about it. I can come back another day, I really don’t want to disturb anything.” You said pulling away, but Haechan’s grip on your hand didn’t allow you to go very far.

“Wait. Mark is an amazing professional and I don’t think there could be anyone better than him to get your first tattoo, not even Johnny.”You fought back the urge to say that you had serious doubts about that, especially given the look of sheer boredom on the man’s face and all that awkwardness surrounding the two of you.

He didn’t seem like someone capable of offering emotional support and allaying your fears.

“Fine. Lock the door when you leave.” He set the tone for the end of the conversation before you could argue, but you heard hyuck whispering to mark before he turn and head back inside "leave? take care of her until i comeback" giving him a playful wink.

“you, follow me.” You watched his broad back disappear from view, then turned your eyes to Haechan, smirking at you like he knows you were scared to get your first tattoo. His joy was so intense that you didn’t have the heart to say the things you were thinking, instead offering a forced smile and a gentle hug before walking away to follow his friend.

“see you” You waved at him stepping into the hallway that led to the tattoo and piercing procedures.

"I'll join you soon baby" haechan whispered to himself.

You didn’t know how to react around him and you were afraid it was obvious from the almost robotic way you followed him.

Even on your other visits to the studio, you hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in the man’s presence. Always mysterious and elusive, you noticed over the course of visits that he preferred to work in the back, creating fine art for inspiration and serving specific clients by appointment directly with him. And the few times you saw him it was always the same awkwardness as usual, the same disturbingly intense stares and a total of zero verbal interaction.

He just slowly cooked you up in an excess of visual intensity and then was gone.And now he said he would get your tattoo.God, you didn’t think you could be more nervous than you are right now.

Mark doesn’t say anything to you as he places the book on top of a small table in the corner, heading over to the alcohol spray bottle and disposable wipes, using both to sanitize the black leather high recliner chair you’ll be sitting in for the next few hours. You just watch him, nudging the toe of your sneakers into the other as a distraction as you wrap the cardigan more tightly around your body.

When he’s finished sanitizing the chair you understand it’s your cue and, sucking in a deep breath, you push your legs to move to the padded chair, your body feeling like heavy lead as you just imagine the pain that will come from shoving a needle in your skin. You settle into the chair, hands clasped on your thighs and body taut as a bow, staring at mark’s work like a frightened hawk. If he had noticed how nervous you were - and you really think it would be hard for anyone not to - he said nothing about it, opting to continue his preparation silently.

His moves are practiced, probably memorized after so much time working at it, and he barely looks at you, completely focused on his little world. The only time he stopped what he was doing and gave you any attention was to hand you a clipboard.

“Before we get started I need you to read and sign this if you agree to the terms.”You nod and he immediately goes back to what he was doing, leaving you alone to read through paragraph after paragraph of the studio’s consent and disclaimer if the job doesn’t turn out exactly the way you wanted it to.

You found it really hard not to approve the final work, given what you already knew about the team and their perfect artwork. But you found such terms understandable and necessary, as working with the public could be challenging at times.

You’ve read the document almost through when a sound of packages opening catches your attention and you look away to the man in front of you. None of your friends had done any procedures with mark, despite their many efforts and attempts to make an appointment, but here you were, waiting for him to finish preparing the materials to get your tattoo done. You couldn’t believe it.

He was attractive in a way that would make a woman swoon. His eyebrows were full and his ears were decorated with a variety of piercings and when he turns to grab something from the top shelf you find yourself fighting an appreciative sigh as you get a clear view of his profile, everything about him was appealing.the sight causes the already visible blush on your face to deepen to an even more embarrassing degree.

The sound of a new song starting up snaps you out of your reverie and you stare awkwardly at the clipboard in your hands, deciding that you definitely assent to all the terms and quickly signing your name at the bottom - your handwriting not as graceful as usual, due to the way your hand is slightly shaking.You hand him the clipboard and he places it on the table next to other documents, turning his attention to the materials.

You see him sort out alcohol, wipes, packets of disposable needles, and a small container of ink, all neatly arranged in a straight line on a tray that he brings over to the leather chair you’re sitting in. He sets it down on the side table, along with the pistol and stencil he would use as a base for your art, pulling a stool on wheels next to your chair.

“The tattoo will be in the rib area, right? Under the breast.” He asked quietly, sitting down on the stool. You looked at him curiously through your lashes, surprised that he already knew the location of your tattoo.

“Y-yes, how do you know?”

“johnny told me.” That’s all he told you about it and, surprisingly, that’s all you needed to understand. “Alright. I need you to take your shirt off.”

He says without looking you in the eye, unflappable and confident, putting the pair of black gloves on his hands with a final snap that only served to make you even more agitated.

While you logically knew that you would need to go topless for this particular tattoo, there was an extra nervousness about doing it in front of him. And you knew it was because it was him, because that self-conscious nervousness wasn’t there at the time when you thought johnny would be doing the procedure.

But there was no choice, and besides, he wasn’t being anything but professional with you. Surely he’s seen a lot more exposed skin than that during procedures.

With a sigh of courage and decidedly rosy cheeks, you pulled the cardigan from your body, quickly doing the same with the light shirt you wore underneath, tucking both into your backpack.

You bite your lip and rub your hands on your thighs, focusing on feeling the material of your skirt against your skin in an attempt to calm yourself down. But your efforts go down the drain when he looks up at you, that disinterested, half-lidded look opening for the briefest of seconds as he looks down at your black push-up bra hugging your breasts. You nearly choke on your saliva because, by God, for two seconds you’re sure a purely appreciative look danced across that bored expression of his.

But then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

“Lie down please so I can sanitize the area.” He grumbled letting the disposable mask rest on his chin, and amidst your mental daze you wonder if he only has black items to use.

You comply, lying back on the soft leather, looking up at the ceiling. You almost jump at the feel of the icy liquid on your skin, instantly shivering at the sensation. The smell of antiseptic hits your nose and you try to breathe more slowly, feeling the circular movements of cotton on your sensitive skin.

“I’ll paste the stencil now.”

As you watched, his fingers smoothed over the stencil, the dark outline showing against your skin. He slowly removes the paper and your gaze strays momentarily to his mouth, his lush lips catching your attention as he nibbles on his lower lip in concentration. You blush and look away quickly, afraid of being caught. It takes a moment for you to realize he’s talking when you turn your attention and notice his lips moving.

“See if you like the position and design. Don’t hesitate to say if you don’t like something, the time for changes is now.” He says it more seriously than any of the times he’s addressed you tonight (which hasn’t been many), voice low and direct, wanting you to understand the importance of this moment.

You swallow and accept the round mirror he hands you, positioning it so you can see the art. Your lips part immediately.

“Oh.”

The delicate butterflies and hearts stretches across your rib cage, just below your breast, rising just a little up the side. The way the design undulates naturally, as if a particular breeze is constantly on your skin, gently shaking your tattoo. You find yourself smiling at the beauty and elegance of the art. It wasn’t a large or very ornate tattoo; you were absolutely sure that mark had already done tattoos infinite times more complex than this one. But it was beautiful. Beautiful in an undeniable way, an art made obviously by gentle and skilled hands.

“It’s…it’s beautiful. I love it.” You say quietly, still turning the mirror to observe the design from all angles, a soft smile on your lips.

Mark didn’t respond immediately and you looked away from the mirror to see the cause of the silence. You felt your smile lessen at the way he was looking at you, specifically at your lips. That realization brought butterflies to your stomach, your cheeks flushing again. He didn’t speak up when he realized you’d caught his gaze, eyes rising to look at your flushed cheeks, then locking into your slightly widened eyes.

“Hmm, can we get started then?” He questioned quietly, still looking at you in that disturbing way, pulling the mask to cover the lower half of the face.

“Y-yes, please.” You said, handing the mirror back to him with trembling fingers. Even with the mask on you heard the amused snort and couldn’t help but feel even more embarrassed. The laugh itself was low and silent, just above a rumbling, guttural breath. It made you feel silly and childish.

Great, now he thought you were an idiot.

“This is a pretty sensitive area, so it might be uncomfortable. I need you to take a deep breath for me. I’ll start with a simple line and you tell me how your pain tolerance is, okay?”

You stiffen but nod, doing as he asks. He grunts a little, satisfied with your compliance, but you barely hear it over the now-screeching sound of the pistol.

“Here we go.”

You bite your bottom lip hard with the initial sting. It hurts. It’s not uncomfortable as he mentioned earlier. It’s painful, really painful. Your small hands curl into fists on the chair and you struggle to breathe slowly, trying to focus on that instead of the stinging pain in your skin. He goes on with the simplest strokes for a few minutes and you’re rigid as a rock during the whole process.

“Hey, you’re okay?”

He pulls the needle away from your skin for a few seconds and you take the opportunity to sigh in relief, refusing to open your eyes because you know they’re teary and you definitely don’t want him to think you’re a crybaby.

“Y-yes, fine, you can continue.” You respond, praying your statement sounds confident enough for him to believe it and continue.

But he doesn’t continue.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head slightly, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/N, open your eyes for me.” He orders harder, the fingers that are still flat on your stomach pressing your skin a little to get your attention.

Having him say your name that way makes you gasp softly, obeying what he says after a deep breath.

As you knew, the act of opening your eyes causes the accumulated tears to fall, streaming down the sides of your face. You sniff and blush harder, feeling the weight of his gaze on you - so intensely dark, like the sky in a quite night.

“It’s okay to cry. This is a pretty sensitive area and, after all, it’s your first tattoo.” Despite the look of boredom, his words are spoken in a reassuring, deep tone that immediately works to quell the worst of your nervousness.

You nod and wipe the tears with your fingers. He waits for you to calm down as he draws slow circles on the skin of your stomach, and despite the fact that you’re pretty sure this gesture isn’t entirely professional, you still feel better about his patience. You’re honestly surprised by this, as his overall expression suggested nothing but utter disinterest. But you accepts the kindness with open arms.

Suddenly the door opened slowly and it's hyuck, his gaze never leaving your face as he start clicking his tongue teasingly before he said “my little girl crying?”

“Can we try again?” mark said looking back at you.

This time you nod more confidently, a small smile on your tearful face and it’s convincing enough that he accepts with a satisfied grunt.

Hyuck gets closer to you and brush his hand softly on your cheek calming you down, neither his words or gestures seems just friendly but you didn't have time to focus on that when all you can feel is pain.

The pistol buzz returns and you make an effort to be more relaxed this time, humming softly to the music playing through the speakers.

“Do you like this song?” he asks casually and you jump an inch as you feel the needle again in your skin, the pain returning as before. But you try to focus on his question.

“Yes, very much.” You say with some difficulty, but glad you have something you can use as a distraction while he continues tracing the painful lines on your skin. The needle scratching your skin in a more sensitive part now, if that was possible, and you squeal a whimper. Mark looks up at you and you smile weakly, waving to say that everything was fine.

Haechan bite his lower lip softly at your words feeling his cock twitching from how hard he is seeing you like that but after some time he decided to complete tatting you to forget about it and that's how they exchanged roles.

He hums thoughtfully and then is silent, long enough for you to think he’s not going to say anything else. But then he speaks.

“Ready, princess?”

You blush at the nickname, but try not to imagine too much. "Yes I'm ready" you breathed.

“That’s my girl,” he turns to your ribs as you try your best not to feel dizzy - whether it was from the object currently stabbing your skin or the words that had just come out of hyuck’s mouth, you didn’t know.

He swallows thoughtfully, the movement making his Adam’s apple rise and fall, immediately drawing your attention to his neck.

You shyly bite your lip as you stare at the tattoos visible across his skin; the striking features of a butterfly right in the center of his throat, the lush wings spread out to either side. A single rose in the space just behind his studded ear. The top of a dragon’s head peeking through the collar of his black shirt, indicating a larger tattoo spread across his back and biceps.

You swallowed hard.

“Hm, do you like my tattoos that much?.” He asked after a while of silence, pulling back a little to look at your tattoo from a different angle, pulling you out of your thoughts. Long fingers gripping your ribcage area firmly, but gently massaging every now and then, making your mission to ignore the signals more difficult by the second.

And so you two go on for a little over one hour, the excruciatingly long time it takes for your tattoo to be done. You cry sometimes and wince at others, but haechan is patient and so as mark who was sitting across from him watching his work more likely watching you.

Of course, you try to remember that they are professionals and that they probably do this for his other clients. But it’s hard not to feel special when they're so nice.

Sometimes you feel hyuck's fingers caressing your skin in a way that you suspect is beyond what a professional needs to do, and yet you struggle to mask your emotions. It becomes particularly difficult when he asks you to pull up your lower bra line a bit so he can finish off the tattoo. Of course, you don’t lift the fabric completely or anything, but the bottom half of your breast is visible and that’s more than enough to make you hyper-aware. And it only gets worse when you feel his gentle touch on the side of your breast, a series of goosebumps erupt over the area, the length of your face down to your collarbone turning red with the embarrassing reaction. It’s absolutely mortifying and you try to cover your embarrassment with a strained laugh, saying the air conditioning was making you cold.

It sounds too ridiculous to be taken seriously, but haechan push it, his dark gaze is dancing with amusement and interest. "Oh i know you liked it, princess"

“i-...You finished?” You ask when he turns off the pistol buzz, placing the object on the tray, throwing the disposable items in the adjacent bin along with the gloves and mask. He stands with his hands up, stretching his muscles tired from being in the same position for so long. You try not to visibly drool at the sight of the muscles in his arms stretched out like that.

“Yes. Do you want help getting up?” he looked back at you, his smirk growing bigger just like what's between his legs.

Yes, you did. In fact, you wanted him to do more than just help you up. But of course you didn’t say that.

“No, that’s fine. I can do it, thanks.”

Despite this, you have trouble getting up. And the fact that he’s watching your every move like an eagle doesn’t help matters. Your tattoo area hurts like a bitch and your body looks like it took a beating, but now you couldn’t take back what you said, it was a matter of pride. Then with delicacy and patience you drag yourself across the chair, avoiding putting weight on the most painful areas. It takes longer than you’d like, but eventually you’re on your feet.

Mark has one eyebrow arched and a half smile on his lips, but mercifully doesn’t comment on what just happened.

“Here, want to take a look?” the younger one asks, nodding towards the full-length mirror on the wall.

“Yes yes!” You responded excitedly, looking forward to seeing the job done.

“Wow, it’s so…so beautiful!” You admire the artistry on your skin, now more vivid and expressive than before. Lips clamped between teeth, nearly jumping with glee at the result. The detailing is elegant and beautiful. It’s even better than the sketch they have drawn.

Your skin throbbed and burned, but you couldn’t be more pleased. The reflection in the mirror is just perfect. “Johnny is an amazing artist I swear, he’s amazing.”

Haechan seems to think about what you say, but the way his brows are slightly furrowed tells you he’s still confused. Hearts fluttering in your eyes as you look away from the mirror at the silent man beside you. But mark on the other side is quiet, deathly quiet.

You’re so nervous that you’ve offended them that you feel your body almost shaking where you’re standing. But then he slowly approaches, standing behind you in the mirror, staring intently at the overview of his work now permanently imprinted on your skin with a thoughtful hum.

“It looks really good on you, princess.” He says from behind you, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of cigarettes and mint gum, and something woody like sandalwood. A scent so intoxicatingly masculine it almost makes your head spin. He's literally behind you pressing on your ass and you’re still only in a bra and thigh-length pleated skirt.

Sweet hell.

You open your lips to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. The two of you just stand there, staring at each other in the mirror, neither of you knowing how to act.

God, he feels it too, right? That tension around the two of you?

It is haechan who breaks the silence, apparently more in tune with his feelings than you are.

“Okay, let me clean this up.“

You’re feeling shaky from your recent interaction, but you nod quickly, watching as he cleans your skin. The cold water soothing the tattoo burn.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do, now that mark is standing close to you too saying nothing, just staring at you in that disturbing way.

For a solid minute, maybe two, he still doesn’t say anything. The look he pinned you with made breathing very difficult but then he finally parts his lips to say something, and you allow yourself to exhale expectantly.

"It wasn’t Johnny who made the art.”

Mark’s deep tone rang like molten gold, clearly knowing he was too close for things to be considered platonic at this point – though it didn’t seem like he minded too much. No, whatever is going on between the three of you is coming to a head right now. You can feel it in your bones.

“E-excuse me?” You blink rapidly, feeling your senses go dangerously numb at his approach, he lied to you.

“I said…” He says more slowly, tilting his head letting the attraction that now seemed mutual run through your veins. “That it wasn’t Johnny who designed your tattoo art, princess.”

He keeps looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. Disturbingly intense. You try and can’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such obvious desire. The sexual tension rapidly rising.

His long fingers glide along your jaw, tracing the shape, caressing your cheekbones. You don’t entertain the illusion that he can’t hear the rapidity of your breathing, perhaps even the rapid pulse under your flushed skin.

You looked to your right and realize that haechan already cleaned everything and he's staring down at you smirking before he whispered in your ear "Every time you visit the studio I wonder what it would be like if we are more close. What it would be like to have friends with benefits...with a pretty little thing like you"

You swallow the choking lump in your throat, lips parted on a shuddering sigh. It’s palpable that something big is coming and you don’t know if you can handle the rest of what he has to say. Still, you want to hear him say it. You wants him to tell you the things that make your stomach flutter and your toes curl. You want it so bad.

“I want to ruin your pussy, fuck you until your throat hurts from screaming. I want to make you cum with my cock, my mouth and my fingers. I want to lick every damn inch of you.”

…

For a few seconds the world stops turning. Nothing but what he said occupies your mind. You were going to die. Right there, in their tattoo studio.

"I….” You try, although the options are so many that you don’t know exactly what to ask for, your tongue feeling heavy inside your dry mouth, “…please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?” Mark's head dips to your exposed neck, wet lips pressing against the skin there. His breath is hot and your eyelashes flutter at the contact, then his tongue slides out to drag slowly against your skin.

you sighed and can't reject this offer ofc, as if your words had been forcibly punched out of your body. Desperate. “Just touch me, please.” you breathed, halfway between crying and begging.

“…Where?” He pulls away to look you in the eyes. His pupil is swollen, almost completely black with lust. A smile plays on his lips.

“Everywhere. Everywhere, I just need to—” You can’t pronounce the rest. Instead, your breath is interrupted by a sudden pressure against your lips, and it takes you several moments to realize exactly what’s happening. Mark is kissing you.

Haechan take the chance and grabbed your waist his fingers tracing up to your back unclasping your bra like a pro. “Been dying to see these tits,” he said, giving the one on his side a squeeze the one you tatted just under it but You hadn’t bothered the pain when all you feel is pleasure.

Mark sucked and kissed all over your lips, while hyuck focused on your nipple. His tongue flicked the peak before taking it in his hot, wet mouth.

Right behind the three of you there was a big couch facing the mirror where you saw the final result of the tattoo.

The older one doesn’t wait for to long before taking a few steps back, until he lands comfortably in the couch that you only now realized was there. “Come here, princess.” He ordered.

But haechan grabbed you hard from your wrist and pushed you against mark making you sit on his lap, god he look so turned on, just an hour ago he was smiling brightly and welcoming you.

With a movement of muscles he is pulling the black shirt over his head - he's shirtless, tattooed chest and neck, his bun was slowly coming undone after all the moving. "hold her legs up" He growled while his friend spread your legs lifting them up in the air.

Haechan kneeled down face only few inches away from your panties, the way your pussy was pulsing now watching his tattooed fingers rubbing on your wet underwear, he damn near moaned. “She’s fucking soaked.” The way he spoke about you made your pussy ache even more.

He pushed them to the side and you tried to close your legs but mark grip was stronger, his fingers digging into your soft skin. “Don’t you dare try to hide this pretty pussy from me” hyuck said giving your cunt a good slap making you gasp.

Getting closer then slip between your legs. He kissed your throbbing clit before licking up your arousal, your head feel back on mark's chest with a moan while hyuck devouring you mumbling and degrading your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit faster and harder. Before you could draw another breath, you were tipping over the edge.

Looking at mark with those needy eyes and squirming all over his lap making him throb as well, "shh- I know baby, I know". Haechan licked at you until you finished, then looked up you grinning “So sweet, fuck.”

Mark start hooking his fingers into his pants and yanking them down along with his boxers, his big veiny cock was in a light needy shade of red. He tugs on your skirt as you risen slightly from his lap carefully avoiding your tattoo, For a few seconds you just look at him, asking - begging - for him to guide you in what to do next, and he doesn’t let you down.

One large hand holding both of your wrist behind your back and the other one grabbing his cock guiding his tip on your folds, “Come on princess, let me have you…” He practically pleads against your skin huskily, his larger body slightly trembling in need beneath yours.

You lick your lips and nod shyly looking back at hyuck who is fully naked now standing in front of you not only watching your pretty face but rubbing circles on your clit and choking you softly squeezing on your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered into your ear as he reach down and slowly rub your folds back and forth with the tip of his cock harder, spreading your slick across the entire length of him. “You have no idea what you are doing to me, princess…”

Your pussy burns as you stretch around his cock. You whimper softly when you felt him inside you, he encourages you the whole time, murmured compliments between his tense jaw.

You close your eyes and sink an inch deeper.

The burning stretch and you biting your bottom lip. When you squeeze a little, mark lets out a groan of pleasure. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like this. Good girl. You’re going so well, princess,” he says through a pent-up groan as you lower until the plump tip of him is inside you, the praise coursing through your veins like liquid fire. “Come on, I know you can take my cock.”

“Does it feel good, baby?” Haechan asks hoarsely, pinching your nipple, as he smiled seeing you coming undone.

“S-so good! It’s so good!” You almost cry, He runs his tongue across your bottom lip and you let him in to explore your mouth, your tongues gliding over each other.

A loud moan is shared between you and mark as you sinking fully into his cock. You swear you can feel him in you chest as he opens you, pulsing and writhing wildly where you spasm along the length.

Bouncing on his cock while choking on another is how you ended up, both of them taking turns on fucking you.

“Gonna be a good girl and take us both, right?” hyuck asked. Your lip went between your teeth at the thought of having both of them inside you. You’d never done something like that, but fuck it sounded good. The second you nodded, haechan was lifting your hips and sinking you on to him. You let out a his as your soft walls opened for him. “Fuck she's so tight,” He groaned.

“mmh that ass is even tighter,” mark said from somewhere behind you giving it a spank. You instinctively rolled your hips, letting your body adjust to hyuck. He rocked his hips up slightly, admiring the moans it pulled from your lips. Mark tried to be as patient as he could so you could adjust to his friend, but his patience feared very thing watching his cock disappear inside you. He did not like feeling left out.

You felt mark press up behind you, He pushed you down so your chest was flush against hyuck’s, allowing himself to spread your ass cheeks rubbing your juices all over it. He used his thumb to spread it over your hole before lined himself up to you. His cock head pressed against you, slowly pushing through the ring of your ass.

“Aahh fuck mark!” you whined as he slowly filled you up. You gripped haechan’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin

“You can take it, be brave, angel” mark insisted, continuing to press inside. He bottomed out with a deep satisfied sigh. “See? Taking two cocks like no problem, that's it baby.”

They began to move inside you. It was such a strange, full sensation, but fuck you couldn’t deny it felt so good. They moved slowly at first, making sure you were enjoying it. With each moan that left your lips the moved more freely.

Both men continued to thrust into you more faster. Hyuck’s moans were lighter, on the precipice of a whine, while mark’s were deeper and raspier. It was music to your ears. “Fuck gonna cum? Let it out princess,” mark moaned.

You nearly screamed as the pleasure in your lower stomach completely snapped. Your whole body shuddered as your orgasm flamed through you, your body shaking and twitching, tears falling down your cheeks as you collapsed on top of haechan.

#nct fic #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct hard hours #mark lee x reader #mark lee smut

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pufflehuffing · 4 months

Text

H.L. HEADCANONS | How MC and the boys became friends. (GN!MC)

Ominis

Did not care about MC in the slightest when they first arrived at Hogwarts. In fact, Ominis detested MC for their camaraderie with Sebastian.

Sebastian had told him about MC's ventures outside of the castle and the power they wielded, and Ominis immediately felt all colour drain from his face. He knew Sebastian wanted to manipulate them into helping him save Anne, and he hated MC's naivety about the situation. He hated how Sebastian told them about the Undercroft, about his blindness, about his family... Ominis detested being seen as a weakling or a black sheep.

Speaking of, one day, he caught MC walking out of the Undercroft in the Defense Against The Dark Arts Tower, recognizing their scent and the sound of their heavy boots on the marble floor. "You breathe a word about this place to anyone and not even your precious Professor Fig will be able to help you. My father is friends with the Headmaster and I'm not afraid to exploit that connection if I need to," he had threatened.

After a few more weeks, he had noticed how at ease Sebastian had become, at least as much as he could possibly be given the circumstances. Sebastian was sleeping more peacefully, and seemed more chipper after meeting MC. It brought Ominis comfort knowing someone was cheering up his friend, and in turn, he also started opening up to MC.

On the following Tuesday, Ominis found himself in the Undercroft. He was suffering from a migraine and had attempted to hide from the sensation of the busy hallways. His blindness made his other senses that much sharper, but it came at the price of having so many headaches...

He heard the gears from the entrance turning and mentally prepared himself for another hour-long story from Sebastian about how he beat Leander Prewett during a duel, but he was surprised when he heard another familiar set of boots walk towards him. He turned his head to the source of the sound and patiently waited for MC to speak up.

They had asked Ominis if he was alright, to which the blonde boy waved his hand dismissively, rubbing his temple with the other. MC was intelligent enough to realize the noise was bothering him and conjured a wet cloth, carefully placing it in Ominis' hand and guiding it to his forehead. MC silently sat beside him on the table and offered him a careful hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

The touch felt foreign, and Ominis wasn't sure if he appreciated it. Nevertheless, he didn't pull away. After a few moments of silence the cloth had gotten cold and Ominis sighed as he laid it on the table behind them.

His blind eyes turned to MC's feet as he spoke softly but curtly, the same way he spoke to his closest friend, Sebastian. "I know we had a bit of a rocky start, but you've proven yourself – as a friend."

Sebastian

Initially only wanted to befriend MC because of their ability to wield ancient magic, not really caring much about forming a true connection because he's too wrapped up in his own problems

However, pretty soon after going to Hogsmeade together for the first time Sebastian had already memorized MC's lesson plan as if it were the back of his hand, knowing exactly where they were at all times of the day. He claimed it was just so he knew when to ask them for more help regarding Anne.

It wasn't until one day, late in the evening, when Ominis and him were in their dormitory that Sebastian realized he actually wanted to impress MC with his knowledge and quick wits. Ominis had argued with him about Sebastian always sneaking into the restricted section to look for more information on curses, and at one point Ominis had called Sebastian a fool for involving an innocent bystander in his mess. Sebastian laid awake the entire night, wondering just how much of his mind was occupied with MC's pretty smile, and what the warm feeling in his chest meant.

Whenever he had a free period, he would spend it in the library, quenching his thirst for knowledge. One day, he decided to read a book about hormones, careful to not let anyone catch him studying something so embarrassing.

Truth is, Sebastian had started noticing the pretty students of Hogwarts, and he did wonder what it would be like to go to The Three Broomsticks in a more... intimate setting with someone, but nothing prepared him for the fuzzy, almost nauseating feeling in his stomach. Uncle Solomon had never before told him about the birds and the bees, or what may happen to teenagers' minds at a certain age, so all Sebastian could do was read the dusty tomes of the library.

When Sebastian realized he had a crush on MC, he held his face in his hands as he leaned his elbows on the table and groaned. "This cannot be real, as if I don't have enough things to worry about right now," He sighed.

He closed the book and returned it to its shelf before sauntering to his next class. He had noticed MC walk into Charms and mentally cursed himself, trying to surpress the butterflies and goosebumps.

Garreth

Had noticed MC immediately in Potions. He was very grateful when they had obtained a Fwooper feather for him from professor Sharp's office, and when they snuck into Honeydukes to "borrow" some dried Billywig stings. They hadn't become friends, but Garreth knew he could count on MC whenever he needed another ingredient. They had a reputation of sneaking out of the castle all the time, and Garreth figured it would come in handy if they could bring back some fluxweed or ashwinder eggs every once in a while.

Weasleys were known for getting into trouble and Garreth was no different. After his aunt Matilda had heard of his secret potion's station in his dormitory, she had given him detention. What surprised Garreth more, however, was the fact that MC was in detention too. He sat down at the desk next to them and waited for professor Binns had started rambling about yet another vague battle that occured in the Scottish Highlands some centuries ago.

He had then asked what the special occasion was with a teasing voice and a hint of mischief in his eyes, and MC had told him they were caught sneaking into the One-Eyed Witch Passage. Garreth simply grinned, proud to see that MC isn't afraid to get under his aunt's skin too.

The two students started teasing each other back and forth, retorting playfully whenever they could. Garreth was excited, incredibly excited even, to have met his partner-in-crime. He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the door at one point, hinting to leave while professor Binns still had his back turned.

Once outside the classroom the pair started running to the Viaduct bridge, hoping to cut off any prefects that roamed around the hallways on their way to their respective dormitories. Once they had reached MC's common room, Garreth asked them to meet up tomorrow, hoping to get to know them even better outside of their professional business ventures of sneaking in ingredients for a few potions in return.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfic #ominis gaunt fanfic #garreth weasley fanfic #hogwarts legacy headcanons

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 6 months

Text

Normal: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: Another lunch with your parents reveals something that’s been locked in your head, but your dad makes you confused and jumbles up the truth. It’s hard enough to focus on a case with a deranged man killing people on the road, you don’t need family drama on top of it.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats." - H.L. Mencken

Hotch requested everyone to meet at the plane instead of in the briefing room like normal. You're running a bit late since your go-bag wasn't properly prepared, but luckily, you had some time to waste. You get out of your car when your phone rings, telling you that you have a message.

You take your phone out to read the message your father sent you.

Can we meet up again? Are you going to be near us?

I'll be in Orange County. Any chance you can come down to me?

I have some business in town. I'll let you know when we can meet up. I'd prefer it if it were just you.

Sure.

You don't want to tell Spencer you're doing this because that would only upset him further. You'll tell him you're going out to lunch and would be right back. You enter the plane and see everyone is already there.

"Sorry, I had a bit of a delay."

You put your bag in the compartments where everyone else's bags are and join Spencer's side who saved you a seat. As soon as you're settled in, the pilot starts to take off. When you're at cruising altitude, Jordan begins the briefing.

"Ten days ago in Orange County, California, Judy Hannity who is a real estate broker, and a mother was injured by a shotgun on the 91 freeway."

"Did she survive this?"

"Barely. She's paralyzed from the waist down. The second and third victims were both DOA. There were different vehicles for each shooting. A small black SUV, a black sedan, and a white sedan with no makes and no plates."

"Any reliable witnesses?"

"The first victim described the shooter as a normal, middle-aged white guy in an SUV."

"She gave that description but she couldn't remember anything else?" Hotch asks.

"Isn't that consistent with trauma?" Jordan asks.

"No, actually. Trauma victims either remember everything or nothing," you state. "I'm confused, though. The third victim was shot last week and we just got the phone call now?"

"Until the third shooting, the locals weren't convinced it was a serial shooter. There were different cars, and in the first shooting there was a different weapon."

"It's the same weapon," Rossi corrects Jordan. "The shot pattern on the second and third one may be wider, but he sawed off the shotgun. It's the same shooter. He's evolving quickly."

"The media has already dubbed him the Road Warrior."

"That explains why they wanted us there so quickly. This type of unsub is the hardest to catch. His victims are impersonal to him. One-third of the time, he flees with his vehicle, another third is that the victim's cars are a wreck, and the last third is the road that's contaminated by all the other cars that drive over it."

"How do we get him?" Jordan asks.

"We build a solid profile. We release it to the public with an appeal for help. Somebody knows this guy."

When the plane lands in Orange County, you're taken to the sheriff's station that is housing all the victim's cars. The detective on the case is eagerly waiting for your arrival, and when she sees you, she immediately heads over. The victim's cars are to your right, and you have to take a deep breath to prevent yourself from being overwhelmed.

"Thea Salinas, sheriff's county homicide. I'm running the task force."

"I'm Special Agent Jordan Todd, and they are Special Agents Rossi, Hotchner, Prentiss, Morgan, Y/N, and he's Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Are these the vehicles from the shootings?" you ask.

"Yes."

"Did you set up a hotline?" Jordan wonders.

"Like you asked. We have the local stations putting the number out there. We're getting about a dozen calls an hour."

"I'll alert the media to stand by for our press conference. Excuse me."

Jordan leaves the group as Hotch, Derek, and Spencer walk over to the cars to inspect them.

"The sheriff's department and the CHP are on tac alert. We've got choppers on round-the-clock freeway patrol. The victims' vehicles come with maps, CSPs, and bullet points. Everything we got on the case is in this room."

"Anything solid on the tip line?"

"The usual nutjobs, crime buffs, and bored senior citizens. Orange County has an endless supply of three things--freeways, news coverage, and blond female luxury car owners."

"Are people pretty scared?" Emily asks.

"I could ask for a submarine and get it."

You leave Rossi and Emily's side and head over to the crashed cars. You grab and slip on some gloves so you can touch the evidence. You always get a better reading when you can touch things unless the energy is strong enough for you to paint a picture with. The crashes happened too long for that to happen, so touching the cars is the next best thing.

"What can you see?" Hotch asks you.

"Give me a minute."

You run your hands over the sharp metal carefully, and you close your eyes to focus on the energy the cars still have. Yes, the crashes happened a while ago, but there will always be energy left on them no matter what. It fades over time, but it never really leaves.

The first car is the most special since it's the first in a spree, so you might get something from it more than the others. The victims' pictures are posted on a bulletin board, so you can see the first victim in her car driving down the road. There is a car speeding toward her on her left, and when she looks over, the unsub has a shotgun in his hands. He shoots her, and the car runs into a concrete median and flips in the air, landing on the top of the car.

He's a white man, and based on the fact that you can't see his face, you know he's the unsub.

"I see her on the freeway," you tell Hotch, "and she's talking on the phone. The unsub comes speeding toward her on the left. He shoots her closed driver's window and she hits a concrete median. Her car flips and it lands on the top of the car. He drives off like nothing happened. I can only see his skin color. He's Caucasian. If another accident happens, or if I can talk to Judy, I might get more off our unsub. The first one is usually important. It's the first time he started killing, though, he never killed her."

"Good job," Hotch praises. "The first MO in the first shooting differs dramatically from the other two. The first one is in daylight on a crowded freeway."

"That's dozens of potential witnesses. It's high-risk. He got lucky."

"Well, then, he's a fast study. He sawed off his shotgun and lowered his risk by switching to nights and changing vehicles."

"What if he wasn't planning on murder the first time?" you say. "We know what he's capable of when he plans ahead, so if he's not planning to commit a crime, it makes sense for him to drive his own vehicle."

"Then why did he have a gun in the SUV if he wasn't planning to commit murder? What happened to make him pull that first trigger?" Derek asks.

"As I said," you turn to Hotch, "I need to talk to Judy."

Hotch decides in order to keep Judy from feeling overwhelmed, only he and you are going to interview her. She is still in the ICU at the local hospital, and when you get there, you see her son in the room with her.

"Ms. Hannity, I'm agent Aaron Hotchner. This is agent Y/N. We're from the FBI."

"She already told the police everything she can remember," her son quickly comes to her defense.

"Rick... it's okay," Just whispers. Hotch takes Rick outside so you can be alone with Judy. When they're gone, you take a seat next to her bed and give her a warm smile. "It's just the two of us. He feels like it's his job to protect me."

"It's good that you two have each other. I understand you spoke with the police, but I'd like to go back to the shooting if you can."

"I don't remember much. It comes back in pieces."

This is where you come in.

"May I hold your hand?"

"Why?"

"I'm a psychic. I can help you recover lost memories if you are okay with it."

"Doesn't hurt to try, I guess."

Since she is paralyzed from the waist down, she can still move her arms to reach out for you. Instead of letting her waste her energy, you grab her hand gently in between both of yours. The trauma from the accident is still very high, so you use that to help paint a more accurate picture of who this unsub is.

"So, you were angry?" you ask with your eyes closed.

"More like impatient, I guess."

Judy comes up behind the unsub in his car, but you can't see the license plate number. It's blurred out because that's not what she was focusing on. It's not the most important thing in her mind at the time, so you won't be able to see it no matter how hard you try. She slams on her horn for him being too slow, and she eventually passes him in a huff of anger. She zooms past him and gets in front of him to show him how angry she is for him being too slow.

"You cut him off?" you ask.

"Yes."

"Was there anything else? Did he swear? Did he honk? Did he threaten you in any way?"

"He tried to speak to me."

The unsub pulls next to Judy's car on the right and tries to get her to roll down her window. From the corner of her eye, the unsub looks completely blurred out. When she faces him, most of him becomes clear for you to see. She was talking to someone on the phone, so she wasn't paying attention to any defining features, but her subconscious picked up a few things that you are able to see.

The unsub is an older white man with round glasses. He is balding on the top of his head, so whatever hair he has is in the back and on the sides, but it's not much. He's wearing a suit and tie like he works in an office building. You can't see his eyes or nose, but you've gotten a lot you can use for the profile.

Based on how he's dressed and how nervous and shy he is when he talks to Judy, you know the kind of man he is.

"What did he say?" you ask.

"He couldn't say anything. I wouldn't give him a chance." She says something to him that causes him to lash out in anger. You already know the result of his anger. You open your eyes and let go of her hand. "If he hadn't seemed so normal, I wouldn't have said anything. I usually don't even use my horn, because on the road... you never know."

"I'll ask your son to come back in."

You leave the room but hold the door open for Rick.

"Is she okay?"

"She will be with you by her side. She's lucky to have you." Rick goes back into his mom's room, and you shut the door behind him. "She made it personal. She got angry at him for driving too slowly. When he confronted her, she told him off and drove off."

"Did you see what he looks like?"

"He's an older white man. If I had to guess, I'd say he's in his mid-fifties. He's balding on the top of his head, and he wore a suit and tie. I think he works in an office building of some kind. He seemed nervous to talk to her like he was not confident in himself."

"Two for two," Hotch chuckles.

You two head back to the police station where the rest are talking to Thea.

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