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moon

eight makes one team!

206 posts

Tattoo || Seonghwa (m.)

Tattoo || seonghwa (m.)

✰ pairing ⇢ idol! (fem) reader x idol! seonghwa

✰ summary ⇢ After a long tour, seonghwa hurries back to you—but gets to the hotel room while you’re showering. When you step back into the room, seonghwa sees that brand new, huge spine tattoo you just got—and he just can’t take it anymore.

✰ genre/au ⇢ smut, fluff, idol au

✰ warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, unprotected sex, cum shot, seonghwa is whipped, also he definitely has a tattoo kink, hotel sex, secret relationship, this really has no plot its just kinda filth

✰ word count ⇢ 2.0k

✰ taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

You were desperate.

He curved his hips, arching his back, gripping the chair underneath him. Sweat dripped, his tongue danced, his eyes were shut tight.

He was god-like. You were ready to kneel for him as you watched his eyes darken, his hips snap—the curve of his muscle, his thin, delicate waist. He moved unlike anyone else, as if he were water, fluid—graceful. However, not graceful enough for you not to imagine swallowing him whole.

You couldn't take this anymore.

You shut your phone off, his half-naked body still on the screen before it went black. You tossed it aside on the huge California king bed and stood up straight.

With a sigh, you looked out towards the city. It was sparkling beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, shining like stars in the night. Everything reminded you of him. He’s been gone for ages, months; it was all too much.

You went into the bathroom of the hotel room you were in, turning on the water, and opting for a cold shower. You desperately needed something to cool your thoughts down—you knew he was coming soon, but you needed to get a grip.

You felt like a delusional fan—you were, slightly. Even being an idol yourself, you still crazed over your boyfriend as if he were just a figment of your imagination.

You let the water hit your face as you tried to keep your thoughts in check.

—

After your shower of not-so-clean thoughts, you step back out into the cool air of the hotel room in only a towel, your bare feet flush against the plush carpet. With a quick movement, you went to find clothes in your bag, but you caught a glimpse of a certain black-haired boy on the bed.

His eyes light up, and he jumps off the bed as quickly as possible, tackling you into an embrace. You felt a swell of happiness fill you as he kissed you all over your face, your cheeks, your lips. It was as if he popped right out of your phone—but unlike his unkept stage look, his hair was neatly groomed, his face without makeup, his smile genuine.

“I missed you,” he whispered against your lips, his arms wrapped around your towel-covered waist. His lips met yours once more, a content sigh leaving his breath.

“I missed you, too,” you smile at him, lifting a hand to rest on his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. He looked so calm, so clean. But his eyes—oh, they showed exactly his true form. They were fierce, feline-like. He gazed at you with imperativeness, sexiness dripping off of him.

His hair was begging to be messed up, begging to be gripped. His lips were parted in front of you, his white teeth bared slightly, and all you could think of was how sharp his hips snapped into the air—how you imagined yourself on top of him.

But you had something important to give him—a gift other than yourself. You got him a simple, small necklace with your initial on it. You knew it would cause a sort of commotion around the fandom, as fans would immediately point fingers and come up with ideas. The thought of it made you excited—even to see him wear it would mean the world to you.

You left his embrace despite his grip. “Oh, I have something for you,” you smiled, turning around to get to your bag. “I think you’ll like it. Let me just find it here—”

The air felt colder.

“....What…is that?” he swallowed hard.

“What?” you called over your shoulder as you rummaged through your bag.

He didn't say anything. No, he approached you slowly from behind, drawing a hand down your neck, meeting the top of your towel that was falling off by the second.

“This,” he hummed, in awe. His tone was soft, but his intentions felt sinister.

“Oh?” you smirked, dropping your towel slowly. “I got a tattoo while you were gone,” you whispered, facing away from him as his hot breath danced across your skin. You were about to ask if he liked it, but you could just tell by the way his hand trailed down your neck, down your spine, dancing across the ink that looked like a star falling, shining down your skin. And his hand met the small of your back, the base of your spine, and you shivered.

“Oh, god,” he growled.

“What?” you asked innocently, turning around in his grip, watching that stone-cold, sharp gaze he had on you meet yours. His eyes were sharp, making you think back to the videos of him once again, how he thrust his hips into the air, how you imagined yourself on top of him in the chair, how you wished you couldve licked the sweat off his pretty little face.

You grazed his cheek, trailing your hand down his shoulders, down his stomach—thinking of the way he looked in his stage clothes. He chewed on his lip, his breath hitching, his muscles tensing underneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Am I making you nervous, baby?” you hummed, your cold fingers gliding underneath his shirt, feeling him tighten under your touch. You haven't fucked for months, the only company being your own hand, and it was the same for him. You were naked in front of him, his eyes hungrier than you've ever seen them. “You know, I was just thinking about you in the shower, about how sexy you looked on stage….”

He just seethed through his teeth, smiling like an absolute maniac.

“God, I need you. I..… I need you right now,” he let out a guttural sound, his hands gripping your bare hips, his eyes as dark as the night. “I can't wait any longer.”

Quickly, he pushed you up against the cold window; your back pressed up against it, your exposed chest against him. He tore your mouth apart, digesting you, eating you up, his teeth nibbling at your lips. You fumbled with the hem of his shirt, tugging on it, begging him to part for one second just for you to tear his shirt off.

You managed to pull the shirt over his head, his muscles rippling against your cold touch. One of his hands found a home tangled in your wet hair, the other wrapping around your body, running down your spine. You shivered, feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure. It all blended together, and you tugged his jeans off as fast as you could.

His breaths quickened as you pulled down his underwear, leaving him exposed to you, his hard-on aching to be relieved by you. He looked at you with desperation; his lips parted as he breathed. You gave him a small smile as you spit on your hand, watching his eyebrows raise as you gripped his cock in your hand. You found pleasure in the way he tossed his head back, the way his veins popped in his neck, his face. How he bit down on his lip to keep him from crying out.

You move your hand in slow, mind-crushing patterns, slow enough to wind him up into insanity. He saw the smirk on your face, and a pained—sex-filled expression filled his own features. He gritted his teeth, baring them like an animal, before gripping your hair and turning you around, slamming your breasts into the cold glass. You let out a moan, giggling slightly.

“Oh, how I missed your anger issues,” you breathed, your face pressed against the window. His hand met your heat, his fingers curling up into you. One slid through you, causing your breath to hitch.

He pressed his lips against your back, your spine, his tongue licking against the inked skin, gliding over the fallen stars. “Oh, fuck,” he mumbled, his breath tickling the back of your neck. You arched your back against him as he fucked you with his finger, sticking another one in with haste. “Never thought a tattoo would turn me on so bad,” he breathed, pressing another kiss against your skin. “You should get more.”

You let out a chuckle, but your thoughts were cut short as he curled his fingers inside you, letting out a sound that nearly made you cum on the spot. You believe that he felt the same, as he let out a similar sound, his fingers moving faster as his lips sucked on your neck like a damn vampire.

“I need you inside me,” you cried out, his fingers only making you want his dick even more. Your hot breath fogged up the window, your lips leaving streaks against the glass. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, and through the reflection of the window, you watched him suck on them, savoring your taste, closing his eyes tightly.

“So…so hot,” his hand danced down your spine, his nails scratching your skin. You arched your back again; he let out a huff of air. “I fucking love your body. I love everything about you,” he moaned, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. You tilted your hips slightly, and he slowly entered you, as hard as a rock, feeling the ridges of you as he moved in and out slowly. You cried out, slamming your hands against the glass that overlooked the city. “I needed your body so bad. You have no idea how much I thought about this the whole tour…”

You moaned softly, his name on the tip of your tongue. “Did you jack off to me?” you moaned, tilting your head to the side, seeing the mess of his black hair all over his face, sticking to his skin. “Did you fuck yourself to me? Did you think about how I tasted?” you took in a sharp breath as your words clearly had an influence on him. He pushed in deeper into you, as if it were possible, and you cried out in pleasure.

It's been so long—so long since you've felt his body move with yours, against yours, inside yours. You felt him pulse within you, your walls tightening against him as you reached your high. You came onto his dick, seeing stars and buildings and lights all around you. You felt like you were falling off the building, crashing. He let out a whimper, a moan, as he felt you tighten, and he pulled out as he came, emptying himself all over your back, on your tattoo.

He breathed shakily, his cum dripping down your back, the wetness pooling at the base of your thighs. You couldn't breathe. You tried to inhale, but all you smelled was the sweet scent of sex, his sweat, his cologne. He was everything you needed, everything you thought of. He lived in your mind within every moment.

He stepped away to grab the towel you dropped earlier, and gently wiped away at your back. His eyes were trained on you, his breathing steadying.

You turned around, eyes meeting his. He looked beat, his eyelids heavy, his smile lazy. He looked at you like you were the best gift in the world, and his hands rested comfortably on your hips. “I missed you,” he said, again.

You flushed, as if you didn't just get railed over the city. “I know, you said that already.” You studied his face, how his eyebrows relaxed, how he was so content in your arms. You brushed away his sweaty hair, tucking it behind his ears.

“So,” he hummed, resting his head on top of yours, looking out to the city skyline. “Was the tattoo my gift?” he chuckled softly.

You let out a small laugh, smiling up at him. “I mean, no, it felt like more of a gift for me,” you thought back to how he reacted to it—just what you wanted. “But I’m glad you liked it. Makes me want to get them all over my body,” you dragged on, watching his eyes go wild.

With one look that could absolutely kill, he said,

“Don't tempt me with a good time.”

Tattoo || Seonghwa (m.)

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