Tattoos

A quiet summer morning in Hongdae.

You go through your usual routine at your small tattoo shop. The commute is a bit long, but you don’t mind. This place is yours. Nothing fancy, but it’s honest, and you love it. Tattoos still carry a certain stigma in Korea, but you’ve always respected the courage it takes for someone to put permanent art on their body. Whether it’s a meaningful memorial or a silly cartoon, you’re just happy to be the one who brings it to life.

Most of your customers are walk-ins; tourists, locals, and occasionally celebrities trying to be discreet. You’re wiping down your station, organizing your tools with practiced muscle memory, when the bell above the door rings.

"Eoseooseyo!" you call out.

A small, petite woman steps inside wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood up and heavily tinted sunglasses. Shorts and simple flip-flops complete the look. She’s clearly trying not to be recognized.

"Hi, I’m y/n. What can I do for you?"

The woman lowers her hood slightly. "A friend recommended this place. She gets her tattoos here."

"Ah, thank you for trusting the recommendation! Do you have an appointment or…?"
"I don’t, but do you have time right now?"
"Lucky for you, the day’s completely open."
She hesitates for a second. "Do you have a private room?"

You nod. Most clients don’t ask for one unless the tattoo is in a sensitive spot. "We do. Right this way."

You lead her to the back room. Deep red walls, black-and-white checkerboard floor, old punk posters, and the faint metallic scent of ink and antiseptic. A black vinyl table sits in the center.

"I like the vibe here," she says softly.
"Thank you. I put a lot of myself into this shop."

She finally removes her sunglasses and pulls her hood down completely.

Your heart nearly stops.

It’s Chaeyoung. TWICE’s Chaeyoung.

"O-oh! Chaeyoung-ssi!" You bow quickly. "I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-"

She lets out a cute laugh, waving her hand. "It’s okay, really. Just treat me like any other customer. I heard great things about this place, so I wanted to try it."

You try to play it cool. "What kind of tattoo are you thinking of today?"

"A cherry. Small and cute. Right here." She points to the side of her ribcage, just below her breast.

She grabs the hem of her oversized hoodie and pulls it off in one smooth motion, revealing a thin, light beige camisole with spaghetti straps. The fabric is loose and slightly sheer under the lights. Your eyes involuntarily flick to the soft curve of her breasts and the way her nipples faintly show through the material.

Chaeyoung notices but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she gives you a small, knowing smile.

"I can do that," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "Let’s get you prepped."

You gather your tools. Stencil, transfer paper, needles, and ink, while she climbs onto the table. She lies on her side, pulling the camisole up high to expose her ribs and the underside of her breast. You can see the gentle rise and fall of her chest with every breath.

As you carefully apply the stencil, your fingers brush against the warm, soft skin just below her breast. Chaeyoung lets out a tiny shiver.

"Ticklish?" you ask.

"A little," she murmurs, voice lower than before. "But I like it."

You swallow hard and turn on the machine. The familiar buzz fills the small room.

"Ready?"
She nods, biting her lower lip. "Go ahead."

The first pass of the needle makes her inhale sharply. Her body tenses, fingers gripping the edge of the table. You work slowly and carefully, but every small gasp and whimper she makes goes straight to your cock. Her skin is so soft, so warm. You have to lean in close, your face inches from her chest as you shade the delicate cherry.

After a few minutes, Chaeyoung’s breathing grows heavier. Her cheeks are flushed.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you ask softly.
"It stings… but it feels kind of good too," she whispers. Her eyes meet yours. There’s something darker and hungrier in them now. "You’re very gentle with your hands, y/n."

Your pulse spikes. The tension in the room is suddenly thick.

"You’re taking it really well," you reply, voice a little rough. Your gloved thumb gently wipes excess ink from her skin, dangerously close to the swell of her breast.

Chaeyoung lets out a soft, breathy sound that sounds far too much like a moan.

She shifts slightly on the table, pressing her thighs together. Her voice drops even lower.

"…Can I tell you a secret?"

You nod, not trusting your voice.

"I’ve been thinking about getting this tattoo for a while… but I also came here because I wanted to know what your hands would feel like on me."

The tattoo was only halfway done, but the tension in the small private room had grown thick. Chaeyoung kept shifting restlessly on the table, her breathing heavier than the slight sting of the needle could explain.

“You know…” she said softly, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “my friend told me what happened the last time she came here.”

You froze for a second, needle hovering above her skin. “Your friend?”

“Mhm. Somi. She got a lower back tattoo from you a few months ago.” Chaeyoung smiled knowingly. “She told me everything. How ‘professional’ you were… until you bent her over this same table and fucked her senseless after finishing the tattoo.”

You let out a nervous laugh and looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s not-”

“Don’t lie,” she cut you off, voice sweet but teasing. “She said you kept her panties too. She was very satisfied.”

You swallowed hard, pulse racing. For a few moments you focused on the tattoo, but the denial slowly melted into a smirk.

“…Even if something did happen,” you said, voice lower now, “why would you come here knowing that?”
Chaeyoung bit her lip, eyes locked on yours. “Because I wanted it too.”

The air felt electric. You wiped the excess ink from her skin and turned off the machine for a moment.

“This clothing is getting in the way,” you said playfully, running a gloved finger along the edge of her camisole. “Can you remove your top so I can work better?”

Chaeyoung gave you a bratty little smile, even though her cheeks were flushed.

“I’m still in a bit of pain from the needle…” she said innocently, tilting her head. “Can’t you remove it for me?”

That was all the invitation you needed.