rania.

All of your current tattoos are from him too. Tiny constellations scattered along your ribs. The moth beneath your collarbone that he freehanded at three in the morning because neither of you could sleep. A koi fish running down the curve of your hip. Every single piece carries his fingerprints in it somewhere.

The fairy lights hung around the room have been dimmed low, the coffee table pushed aside, and his client chair unfolded in the open space near the big window. Soft rain taps against the glass from the outside, and some calm lo-fi music plays throughout the apartment to set the mood and calm your nerves, even if you’ve planned this for a while𑁋Joshua had sacrificed hours upon hours to bring your idea to life. You can’t back away from this now. 

The idea is a long, elegant spine tattoo: a powerful dragon that coils gracefully down your back with its body and sharp scales interwoven with delicate cherry blossoms. Strength and softness tangled together, exactly as you had imagined. You remember when you first told him about it and the way his eyes had grown wide, like a mixture of excitement and awe, but also… a subtle pinch of fear.

Because it’s you, and he knows that he can’t afford to screw up, especially with something as permanent as a tattoo. You’re willingly offering a big piece of yourself for him to mark, and that’s a huge weight he’s had to carry while sketching out your concept. There’s no undo button for that kind of trust. 

“I’ve thought about this for a long time, Shua,” You tell him firmly, though there’s that twitch of your nerves to your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no going back now.”

Joshua’s eyes turn fond, taking a step closer to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless black top, the fabric stretching across his chest and showing off the ink drawn over his skin. One of his arms is completely bare of any tattoos, but his other is a beautiful canvas of pieces he’s collected over the years𑁋some intricate fineline, others that are more bold and striking. He even has some dotted over his ribs as well, particularly the Gemini tattoo that you love kissing.

He reaches out instinctively, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your head falls onto his chest naturally, breathing him in, giving him the opportunity to press a kiss to the top of your head. You can feel his steady heartbeat against your cheek, and it helps to lessen your nerves a little.

After all, it’s temporary pain for something permanent on your skin forever. And of course, it’s created by the man you love. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, pulling back to look at you properly. “Let’s get you ready then, love. Can I take this off you?”

His fingers linger underneath your (his) shirt, tracing circles on your back as if he’s drawing it out on you. It sends shivers of anticipation up and down your spine. He’s giving you one last chance to change your mind, but you both already know you won’t.

You tilt your head to look at him back. “Yes. Please.”

You swear you see his eyes darken for a split second at your words. Without another word, he leads you to the mirror perched in the corner, turns your back to him, and peels the oversized shirt off slow enough it almost seems like he’s purposely teasing you. You help by lifting your arms as it slips off you, leaving you bare from the waist up. You’re not even wearing a bra underneath, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

For a second, he just… stares at you in the mirror, lips pursing at the way your nipples tighten in the cool air. Then he drinks in the sight of your bare back𑁋his beautiful untouched canvas𑁋taking in how the dim lighting in the room highlights the line of your spine and the elegant curve of your shoulders. The thought that he’s about to leave something permanent there visibly makes him swallow. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “How am I supposed to concentrate for the next six hours when you look like this?”

“Like what?” You ask amusedly, meeting his heated gaze in the mirror.

“Like a goddess,” he finishes roughly, letting a hand hover near your waist, close but not exactly touching you, as if he’s scared to ruin you with carelessness. “A masterpiece I shouldn’t be allowed to worship.”

Heat blooms through your face at that. You grab his hand that’s lingering over your side, guiding it to where he’s finally touching you properly. His palm is slightly cold at first, but it warms instantly the second he’s touches your skin. His other hand joins in, sliding up your ribs until both palms rest just beneath your breasts, thumbs tenderly brushing the undersides. Then he leans in to kiss a line down from your nape, nipping gently on where your neck meets your shoulder. 

He smiles against your skin when he feels you tremble in his hold.

“I love it when you worship me,” You tell him quietly.

Immediately, you swear you see the way your words make his mind flash𑁋perhaps with images of past intimate nights with your bodies tangled in bed together, his mouth between your thighs for hours, marking his territory on top of his own art. He also imagines how you’d look from behind when he sinks inside𑁋

“On the chair now,” he orders, forcing himself backward. “before I lose my mind.”

With a breathless giggle, you sit down on the client chair, straddling it so that your chest is pinned against the leather backrest. The position leaves your entire back deliciously exposed to him. You hear the sound of gloves being snapped on and the roll of his stool wheeling right next to you. Even though you can’t see him, you still feel the heat of his eyes roaming over you.

The next few minutes are spent cleaning you. Joshua’s gloved hands move slowly as he wipes your entire back down with antiseptic solution, his thumbs applying some reassuring pressure along your spine. You shiver when it hits your skin, and he notices immediately. 

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “Still okay?”

“Mhm,” You breathe, eyes half-closed. “Just… sensitive.”

He hums in understanding, then leans in to place a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

Once your skin is clean, he carefully applies the stencil. He smooths it down your skin inch by inch with both hands from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve just above your ass. You can already imagine every detail of it𑁋the long, coiling scaly body of the dragon, along with the delicate cherry blossom branches that will soften it. 

When the stencil is peeled away, both the room and Joshua take a collective deep breath together. 

The dragon already looks beautifully alive on your skin. Its serpentine body twists down the length of your spine, the tail end just above the waistband of your lounge shorts. Cherry blossom petals and branches burst along its scales, a few petals seemingly drifting free like a small breeze across your skin. The lines are fine, crisp, perfect. Even Joshua himself seems completely speechless of the linework that he created. 

There’s really nobody else that you trust more than him to do this. 

“Wow,” he utters out softly, refusing to blink for a few seconds as if he’s scared you’ll vanish. “You look… illegal, baby.”

A choked laugh leaves you, reality settling within your bones that you’re seriously doing this. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He caresses a gloved finger down your back right beside the stencil. “You’re really going to sit through this, huh?”

“You’re really going to make me sit through it.”

“Fair,” he quips with a grin, before exhaling a breath through his nose. “But if it gets too much or becomes too painful, you tell me immediately, okay? We’re only doing the outline for today, then shading later another time.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, wiggling a brow at him. “Bossy.”

“I’m serious,” Joshua says pointedly, yet there’s a layer of softness underneath. “This is your body, love.”

That lands more harder than it should.

Your smile fades and brightens at the same time. “And I trust you with it, Shua. I always have.” 

Joshua pauses from where he’s been squeezing out the black ink into some tiny plastic caps. For a moment, you see the professional artist facade on his face crack and sparkle of love in his eyes. Because after all, he is your boyfriend𑁋the man who kisses your forehead when you’re sick and the one who’s about to carve forever on your skin with hands that’s thoroughly mapped every inch of you. 

He rolls his stool until he’s right in front of you. Without any hesitation, he leans in to steal a slow, deep kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours for a minute. 

“Then let me make this perfect for you, my brave girl,” he whispers assuringly, rolling himself back beside you. The sound of the machine buzzing to life cuts through the rain shower outside and the low tunes of his playlist. “Colour system, alright? I’ll work my way from the top to the bottom.” 

You nod, gripping the top of the client chair a little tighter as the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine fills the room. After getting multiple pieces done already, you find the sound oddly comforting now, especially if it’s with Joshua. 

When the needle touches down at the nape of your neck, your lips tighten together into a thin line and you have to force yourself not to flinch. You feel the vibrations of the machine carry into your skull as Joshua starts to outline the head of the dragon, keeping one hand settled at the small of your back anytime the needle starts dragging to more sensitive flesh. 

Each precise pass sends little sparks of fire down your nerves, some of them curling low in your belly in a way that feels way inappropriate given the situation. As the long minutes drag by, you close your eyes and rest your forehead onto the cool leather backrest. Every so often Joshua lifts the machine to wipe away any excess ink and blood, and to plant soothing kisses beside the fresh ink as if to apologise for the pain and praise you for your strength at the same time. It’s strangely intimate𑁋letting him mark you like this, claim you like this. 

Minutes slowly blur to an hour. The silence is filled mostly with Joshua updating you with the progress so far and checking in on you, the occasional sigh of discomfort from your lips when the needle hits a particularly sensitive spot on your spine, and his playlist now shifting to some smooth jazz (Sade, mostly). By the time the second hour hits, Joshua kills the machine for a short break, which gives you the opportunity to finally stretch from being stuck in the chair for so long.

“The head and neck are done,” he tells you, ditching the gloves and offering you some water. “How are you feeling?”

You extend your arms up to the ceiling, groaning at the sensitivity in your muscles. 

“Stiff,” You admit hoarsely, rolling your shoulders carefully. “Burns like hell near my spine. But… I’m okay. I want to keep going.” 

Joshua watches you with soft, attentive eyes as you take the glass of water from him. The sleeveless top he’s wearing clings to his frame from the warmth of the room. His gaze drifts down your bare torso and the redness of your skin from where the needle had been, lingering on the way your breasts move as you stretch, before flicking back up to your face. 

His sweatpants are beginning to feel uncomfortably tight too, but he tries to ignore the feeling with an audible cough out of his throat. The professionalism is hanging on by a thread at this point. Because you’re still technically his ‘client’, despite the fact that you both sleep in the same bed together every day and he knows your mind and body by heart. 

But you’re also his girlfriend… who is completely topless in front of him. So his thoughts are basically bound to go haywire. 

“Alright, try to relax for me again, baby,” Joshua instructs, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. He leans over you, close enough that the warmth of his body hits your skin, and presses a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you back into position. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that?”

The machine buzzes back to life, and the needle meets your skin once more with that delicious burn, causing an unconscious whimper to tumble out of you. The dragon’s body is thicker towards the middle of your back, but Joshua works his way down with steady and careful strokes, ink blooming beneath your skin like ribbons.

But you can sense the shift in him. 

His breathing grows heavier with every involuntary sound you let out from the pain or how your back arches beautifully when a raw area is drawn over, brows furrowed together as he works in concentration, even if it’s fraying by each minute that passes. 

When he finally reaches the tail-end of the dragon𑁋just above the waistband of your shorts and the swell of your ass𑁋the needle drags across the sensitive skin of your lower back, sending sharp sparks straight down your spine and between your legs. You can’t stop the soft, needy moan that escapes you this time. 

“Colour?” Joshua asks, wiping away the excess ink. 

A shaky breath leaves you, trying to steady yourself even if your body feels like it’s been set ablaze in the best and worst ways. 

“Green… mostly,” You mutter in response. “It’s a lot on the lower back, but I can take it.”

Joshua hums in acknowledgement, offering a reassuring squeeze to your hip. You feel him shift on the stool beside you, his gloved hand roaming down your lower back and stopping just shy of the waistband of your shorts. One of his fingers slides underneath from behind to trace the sensitive skin there teasingly. 

His warm breath fans against you, a smug smirk on his face that you can’t see but can definitely sense. “I can tell you’re wet for me, love.” 

Heat instantly floods your cheeks, embarrassment crawling up your spine. “Shua…”

“Dirty girl,” he says with a low chuckle, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Getting turned on by me marking up your back, hm?”

You bite at your bottom lip hard in embarrassment, both mortified and aroused at the same time. The bastard knows you too well. 

“I can’t help it,” You mumble shyly, refusing to look at him. “It feels good… especially with your hands on me.” 

Joshua gives a playful snap to his gloves, causing you to flinch in the seat out of pure anticipation. God, it kills him to see how needy you are for him right now𑁋but he has a job to finish and he’s determined to do so. He’s blessed at being able to keep his patience afloat, most times to tease you more than anything; otherwise, he would have you bent over the chair right now. 

“I still have the lower back to finish,” he reminds you, reluctantly pulling his hand away from you. “Think you can behave long enough for me to do it?” 

You nod your head, even as you grind subtly into the chair for that small ounce of friction. You say yes, but you both know that’s a lie. 

The machine whirs back to life instantly. When the sharp stick of the needle meets the sensitive skin of your lower back, your whole body reacts. The skin there is tender and sensitive after the long hours of being worked over. And the second Joshua drags another line across your lower back, your hips twitch up involuntarily as you fight to stay still. If today is only for the outline, you could only imagine how the shading process would be like. 

“Breathe for me, love,” Joshua coos lightly, pausing for a minute. He flattens a hand to the curve of your waist to hold you down and rub circles on your skin. “Lower back is evil, I know. Just a little more.”

Easy for him to say.

You feel the vibrations of the machine travel straight through your pelvis. Your grip tightens around the leather backrest, breasts pressed flush against the chair as you try to breathe through the stinging fire licking up your spine. 

“So pretty like this,” he praises absentmindedly as he draws out the cherry blossom petals. “Taking it so well for me, sweetheart…”

You can’t tell if the praise makes it better or worse. Worse, probably𑁋it sinks hotter into your skin than the needle does. You’re probably soaked as well. Embarrassingly so, since his hands have been on you the entire time, and the words that come out are in that familiar adoring tone he only uses in the bedroom with you. You’re not sure if what you’re feeling is pain or need anymore. 

Joshua knows it too. His low chuckle vibrates through the quiet room as he continues the final outlines on the cherry blossoms right where the tail curls. 

After what feels like a literal eternity, the machine is finally killed off for the last time, and the room falls into a strange kind of silence with the exception of your ridiculously heavy breathing. The relief is immediate when the needle is away from your burning skin, but the desperate ache between your thighs continues to throb. You near the loud snap of Joshua removing his latex gloves and rolling his stool back to retrieve the aftercare supplies.

Joshua takes his precious time wiping away what remains of the excess ink over your inflamed skin. After everything is pat dry, he applies a final layer of soothing ointment, before slowly rolling on the second skin, pressing it down with careful palms from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve of your lower back. The cool, transparent film material settles protectively over the fresh dragon and cherry blossoms, sealing them in. 

The moment he’s done, you hear him lean back on the stool, just staring at you𑁋and his work𑁋for a long minute. You lift your head to glance at him over your shoulder.

He looks completely wrecked. There’s some exhaustion there obviously, fatigue sitting directly beneath his eyes from all the long hours of concentration. But the heat in his gaze is unmistakable. 

“Are you gonna say something or just stare at me forever?” You ask him with a sly look. 

Joshua blinks as if you pulled him out of a trance. 

“God, come here, love,” he urges, and before you can respond, he’s pulling you by the arms and leading you towards the large mirror in the corner of the room. 

He positions you right in front of the mirror, standing behind you with his hands resting on your hips. The fairy lights cast a warm glow across your skin, almost making the second skin on your back shimmer faintly. 

“Look,” Joshua whispers hotly, spinning you gently so your back is visible in the reflection. “Look at what we made together.”

Your breath catches in your throat when you catch sight of the tattoo for the very first time. The dragon coils elegantly down your spine as if it had always belonged there. Cherry blossom branches and petals drift along its body like they’re caught in a permanent spring breeze. The head rests between your shoulder blades while the tail disappears low near the waistband of your shorts. It looks almost alive. 

“Shua…” You breathe, unable to find the proper words from how stunned you are as you peer back up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

Joshua nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling you in, before tilting his head slightly so that his mouth barely grazes your neck. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, gliding his hands up your sides, stopping short of your breasts. “It’s more than beautiful, love. It’s perfect on you.” 

A kiss to your neck severs any kind of response you could say, stealing the words right off your tongue and replacing it with a soft, trembling breath. Joshua smiles against your skin, pulling more shaky sighs out of you as he kisses his way down to your collarbone. 

When he pulls away, your eyes lock together. In the small space between your bodies, you can feel the hours of lingering tension, pain, pride, and need. Joshua’s gaze is dark, full of love and unbridled hunger. You only have to flick your attention down to his lips once before he’s on you. 

Joshua’s mouth crashes onto yours, fueled by the desperation that’s been simmering for the past few hours. His tongue slides against yours like he’s trying to taste every sound of discomfort and pleasure that left you. You moan softly into his mouth as your hands tangle up in his dark hair, his arms sliding around you to pull you closer but ensuring to not put any pressure on your freshly tattooed back. You can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. 

“Careful, beautiful,” he breathes against your lips, even as he walks you backward until the backs of your knees collide with the client chair. “It’s still fresh. I’m not ruining my best work because I can’t keep my hands off you.” 

But the way he’s kissing you says otherwise. And the way his fingers wander underneath your shorts to cup your clothed pussy says otherwise, too. 

“I need you, Shua,” You mutter breathlessly, hands sliding underneath his sleeveless top as you feel his fingers glide through your soaked folds. “Please… want you inside me.”

Joshua groans at your pleads, exhaling harshly through his nose.

“God, how can I ever deny you?” he rasps darkly, guiding you around so that your chest is braced up against the side of the chair. “Keep that pretty back arched for me, baby.” 

You obey instantly, folding forward and resting your forearms on the seat. The position leaves you shamelessly exposed for him, your back arching beautifully so that he has the perfect sight of the dragon tattoo from behind.

Joshua’s breath catches. “Fuck, just like that…”

You hear the rustle of fabric as he finally pushes his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. Then you feel him drag down your lounge shorts in one smooth motion, letting them pool at your ankles. He steps up behind you, one hand smoothing up the back of your thigh while the other kneads at the soft flesh of your hip, thumb brushing just beneath the edge of the second skin. 

He leans in to plant open-mouthed over the untouched skin of your back, his hardened cock nudging teasingly at your entrance. The heat of his breath ghosts across your spine as he drags his lips slowly upward.

“Still okay?” he whispers, voice rough yet still tainted with that familiar tenderness that makes your chest ache. “Tell me if anything hurts, love.”

You subtly grind yourself back against him, aching for more. He grips your hips even more tightly at the contact.

“I’m okay,” You reassure him, voice trembling with need. “Want all of you, Shua… please.”

Joshua presses one more lingering, grateful kiss to the centre of your upper back right beside the dragon’s head as if to silently say thank you, before slowly pushing the thick head of his cock inside your soaked entrance. The two of you moan softly at the familiarity of your bodies joining together. His bare chest leans protectively over your body, close enough that you feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back. 

He slowly enters you inch by inch, letting you feel every ridge and vein inside until his hips are flush against your ass. A shared, breathy moans from the two of you travels through the quiet apartment. He stays still for a long moment, just to savour the feeling of being perfectly connected with you and to let you adjust. One of his arms wraps gently around your waist to rest a warm palm over your stomach as he continues to worship attention to every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth. 

Then he starts to move𑁋unhurried deep thrusts that drags his cock alongside your sensitive walls. His hand on your stomach lowers until they’re between your legs, fingers seeking your clit and running through your wetness to bring that added pleasure. You push back against him, desperate for more, but he keeps the pace torturously steady.

“Take it easy, sweetheart,” Joshua murmurs against the shell of your ear. “Don’t move too much. Let me take care of you.”

His free hand tantalisingly traces the edge of the second skin. The sight of his art on your spine while he fucks you spurs him on even further. With a guttural groan, he starts to pick up the pace, still mindful of your back but unable to hold himself back completely. The wet sounds of your bodies mixes in with your broken whimpers, each thrust sending thrilling flames of pain and pleasure down your body.

You grip the leather chair even tighter, your back arching deeper instinctively. “Shua𑁋right there𑁋fuck𑁋”

Joshua curses under his breath. He angles his hips slightly to kiss that particular spot that makes your vision blur, his fingers moving on your clit even faster.

“That’s it,” he praises thickly in that low, filthy register you love, giving an encouraging squeeze to your ass. “Let me hear you, love. You took my needle so fucking well… and now you’re taking my cock just as pretty. Been thinking about this every single minute I was marking you.” 

His words make you clench tightly around him, drawing a deep groan out of his chest. His hips begin to snap harder into you, causing your head to helplessly fall onto the cool leather of the chair as he continues fucking you from behind. Every thrust sends your breasts crushing harder into the chair, nipples aching from the friction. 

You’re so embarrassingly close already from the hours of teasing, the needle’s sting, and his cock driving in and out of you at a relentless rhythm. 

“My perfect canvas… my masterpiece…” he murmurs possessively against your skin, sending another rush of heat through you. “All mine to mark, to worship, and fuck.” 

When your legs start to shake, Joshua notices it immediately, responding by rubbing more tighter circles on your clit, exactly how you like it. His own rhythm starts to falter as he feels himself nearing the edge as well, but he doesn’t dare slow down. He wants𑁋no, craves𑁋to see you fall apart while his art is still fresh on your back. 

“Shua𑁋shit𑁋I’m close, so close𑁋” You pant hoarsely, feeling the coil in your stomach wind tighter and tighter. 

“Yeah?” he asks, teeth grazing over your shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby. You’re squeezing me so good𑁋come on, sweetheart𑁋”

That’s all it takes.

Your orgasm crashes into your hard, a broken sob of his name tearing out of your throat as your walls pulse around him. The pleasure and fiery pain ripping through your body only heightens your release even stronger. Joshua’s hips stutter against you, his fingers working through you to draw every last sigh until you’re sensitive and gasping. 

When the last hints of your orgasm fades, he finally lets himself go as well, burying himself deep inside of you with a short-winded grunt. His forehead drops onto the slick skin of your shoulder, his chest rising and falling heavily against you. 

Neither of you move for a while, only listening to one another’s ragged breathing as you both come down from your intense releases together. Joshua reaches down to intertwine his hand with yours that’s been gripping the chair so tautly. 

“You okay?” he asks breathlessly while caressing a tender finger over your hip bone with his free hand. “Does anything hurt?”

You let out a shaky, yet contented chuckle. “Everything burns a little, but… it’s good. Really good.” You give a reassuring squeeze to his hand. “Mmmh… you’re insatiable.”

Joshua hums in relief. “You’re the insatiable one, my love. Have you seen yourself? And we still have to do the shading𑁋how am I supposed to hold myself back for that?”

Your cheeks flare up at his words, causing you to smack him playfully on the rear, but he retaliates with a tender kiss to the side of your neck. Then he cautiously pulls out of you, the two of you hissing at the sensitivity. He helps you straighten up before spinning you around to give you a proper kiss on the lips, bringing that shy giggle out of you that he adores so much when he draws back.

He angles your body slightly to check the second skin on your back, making sure it’s secure.

“Everything looks good,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s going to heal so beautifully on you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You grin up at him with hazy eyes. “I know you will.”

As he helps you back into your shirt and puts on his own clothes, he leads you to your shared bedroom. Now that the healing process has started, he knows he can’t wait to see how it’ll look entirely completed in its beauty𑁋when he can run his fingertips over it without worry, and maybe, just maybe, when he can pin you down into the sheets and worship his work on you once again. 

Because you still have to get through the shading sessions.

And he plans to make each one unforgettable.

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All of your current tattoos are from him too. Tiny constellations scattered along your ribs. The moth beneath your collarbone that he freehanded at three in the morning because neither of you could sleep. A koi fish running down the curve of your hip. Every single piece carries his fingerprints in it somewhere.

The fairy lights hung around the room have been dimmed low, the coffee table pushed aside, and his client chair unfolded in the open space near the big window. Soft rain taps against the glass from the outside, and some calm lo-fi music plays throughout the apartment to set the mood and calm your nerves, even if you’ve planned this for a while𑁋Joshua had sacrificed hours upon hours to bring your idea to life. You can’t back away from this now. 

The idea is a long, elegant spine tattoo: a powerful dragon that coils gracefully down your back with its body and sharp scales interwoven with delicate cherry blossoms. Strength and softness tangled together, exactly as you had imagined. You remember when you first told him about it and the way his eyes had grown wide, like a mixture of excitement and awe, but also… a subtle pinch of fear.

Because it’s you, and he knows that he can’t afford to screw up, especially with something as permanent as a tattoo. You’re willingly offering a big piece of yourself for him to mark, and that’s a huge weight he’s had to carry while sketching out your concept. There’s no undo button for that kind of trust. 

“I’ve thought about this for a long time, Shua,” You tell him firmly, though there’s that twitch of your nerves to your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no going back now.”

Joshua’s eyes turn fond, taking a step closer to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless black top, the fabric stretching across his chest and showing off the ink drawn over his skin. One of his arms is completely bare of any tattoos, but his other is a beautiful canvas of pieces he’s collected over the years𑁋some intricate fineline, others that are more bold and striking. He even has some dotted over his ribs as well, particularly the Gemini tattoo that you love kissing.

He reaches out instinctively, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your head falls onto his chest naturally, breathing him in, giving him the opportunity to press a kiss to the top of your head. You can feel his steady heartbeat against your cheek, and it helps to lessen your nerves a little.

After all, it’s temporary pain for something permanent on your skin forever. And of course, it’s created by the man you love. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, pulling back to look at you properly. “Let’s get you ready then, love. Can I take this off you?”

His fingers linger underneath your (his) shirt, tracing circles on your back as if he’s drawing it out on you. It sends shivers of anticipation up and down your spine. He’s giving you one last chance to change your mind, but you both already know you won’t.

You tilt your head to look at him back. “Yes. Please.”

You swear you see his eyes darken for a split second at your words. Without another word, he leads you to the mirror perched in the corner, turns your back to him, and peels the oversized shirt off slow enough it almost seems like he’s purposely teasing you. You help by lifting your arms as it slips off you, leaving you bare from the waist up. You’re not even wearing a bra underneath, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

For a second, he just… stares at you in the mirror, lips pursing at the way your nipples tighten in the cool air. Then he drinks in the sight of your bare back𑁋his beautiful untouched canvas𑁋taking in how the dim lighting in the room highlights the line of your spine and the elegant curve of your shoulders. The thought that he’s about to leave something permanent there visibly makes him swallow. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “How am I supposed to concentrate for the next six hours when you look like this?”

“Like what?” You ask amusedly, meeting his heated gaze in the mirror.

“Like a goddess,” he finishes roughly, letting a hand hover near your waist, close but not exactly touching you, as if he’s scared to ruin you with carelessness. “A masterpiece I shouldn’t be allowed to worship.”

Heat blooms through your face at that. You grab his hand that’s lingering over your side, guiding it to where he’s finally touching you properly. His palm is slightly cold at first, but it warms instantly the second he’s touches your skin. His other hand joins in, sliding up your ribs until both palms rest just beneath your breasts, thumbs tenderly brushing the undersides. Then he leans in to kiss a line down from your nape, nipping gently on where your neck meets your shoulder. 

He smiles against your skin when he feels you tremble in his hold.

“I love it when you worship me,” You tell him quietly.

Immediately, you swear you see the way your words make his mind flash𑁋perhaps with images of past intimate nights with your bodies tangled in bed together, his mouth between your thighs for hours, marking his territory on top of his own art. He also imagines how you’d look from behind when he sinks inside𑁋

“On the chair now,” he orders, forcing himself backward. “before I lose my mind.”

With a breathless giggle, you sit down on the client chair, straddling it so that your chest is pinned against the leather backrest. The position leaves your entire back deliciously exposed to him. You hear the sound of gloves being snapped on and the roll of his stool wheeling right next to you. Even though you can’t see him, you still feel the heat of his eyes roaming over you.

The next few minutes are spent cleaning you. Joshua’s gloved hands move slowly as he wipes your entire back down with antiseptic solution, his thumbs applying some reassuring pressure along your spine. You shiver when it hits your skin, and he notices immediately. 

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “Still okay?”

“Mhm,” You breathe, eyes half-closed. “Just… sensitive.”

He hums in understanding, then leans in to place a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

Once your skin is clean, he carefully applies the stencil. He smooths it down your skin inch by inch with both hands from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve just above your ass. You can already imagine every detail of it𑁋the long, coiling scaly body of the dragon, along with the delicate cherry blossom branches that will soften it. 

When the stencil is peeled away, both the room and Joshua take a collective deep breath together. 

The dragon already looks beautifully alive on your skin. Its serpentine body twists down the length of your spine, the tail end just above the waistband of your lounge shorts. Cherry blossom petals and branches burst along its scales, a few petals seemingly drifting free like a small breeze across your skin. The lines are fine, crisp, perfect. Even Joshua himself seems completely speechless of the linework that he created. 

There’s really nobody else that you trust more than him to do this. 

“Wow,” he utters out softly, refusing to blink for a few seconds as if he’s scared you’ll vanish. “You look… illegal, baby.”

A choked laugh leaves you, reality settling within your bones that you’re seriously doing this. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He caresses a gloved finger down your back right beside the stencil. “You’re really going to sit through this, huh?”

“You’re really going to make me sit through it.”

“Fair,” he quips with a grin, before exhaling a breath through his nose. “But if it gets too much or becomes too painful, you tell me immediately, okay? We’re only doing the outline for today, then shading later another time.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, wiggling a brow at him. “Bossy.”

“I’m serious,” Joshua says pointedly, yet there’s a layer of softness underneath. “This is your body, love.”

That lands more harder than it should.

Your smile fades and brightens at the same time. “And I trust you with it, Shua. I always have.” 

Joshua pauses from where he’s been squeezing out the black ink into some tiny plastic caps. For a moment, you see the professional artist facade on his face crack and sparkle of love in his eyes. Because after all, he is your boyfriend𑁋the man who kisses your forehead when you’re sick and the one who’s about to carve forever on your skin with hands that’s thoroughly mapped every inch of you. 

He rolls his stool until he’s right in front of you. Without any hesitation, he leans in to steal a slow, deep kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours for a minute. 

“Then let me make this perfect for you, my brave girl,” he whispers assuringly, rolling himself back beside you. The sound of the machine buzzing to life cuts through the rain shower outside and the low tunes of his playlist. “Colour system, alright? I’ll work my way from the top to the bottom.” 

You nod, gripping the top of the client chair a little tighter as the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine fills the room. After getting multiple pieces done already, you find the sound oddly comforting now, especially if it’s with Joshua. 

When the needle touches down at the nape of your neck, your lips tighten together into a thin line and you have to force yourself not to flinch. You feel the vibrations of the machine carry into your skull as Joshua starts to outline the head of the dragon, keeping one hand settled at the small of your back anytime the needle starts dragging to more sensitive flesh. 

Each precise pass sends little sparks of fire down your nerves, some of them curling low in your belly in a way that feels way inappropriate given the situation. As the long minutes drag by, you close your eyes and rest your forehead onto the cool leather backrest. Every so often Joshua lifts the machine to wipe away any excess ink and blood, and to plant soothing kisses beside the fresh ink as if to apologise for the pain and praise you for your strength at the same time. It’s strangely intimate𑁋letting him mark you like this, claim you like this. 

Minutes slowly blur to an hour. The silence is filled mostly with Joshua updating you with the progress so far and checking in on you, the occasional sigh of discomfort from your lips when the needle hits a particularly sensitive spot on your spine, and his playlist now shifting to some smooth jazz (Sade, mostly). By the time the second hour hits, Joshua kills the machine for a short break, which gives you the opportunity to finally stretch from being stuck in the chair for so long.

“The head and neck are done,” he tells you, ditching the gloves and offering you some water. “How are you feeling?”

You extend your arms up to the ceiling, groaning at the sensitivity in your muscles. 

“Stiff,” You admit hoarsely, rolling your shoulders carefully. “Burns like hell near my spine. But… I’m okay. I want to keep going.” 

Joshua watches you with soft, attentive eyes as you take the glass of water from him. The sleeveless top he’s wearing clings to his frame from the warmth of the room. His gaze drifts down your bare torso and the redness of your skin from where the needle had been, lingering on the way your breasts move as you stretch, before flicking back up to your face. 

His sweatpants are beginning to feel uncomfortably tight too, but he tries to ignore the feeling with an audible cough out of his throat. The professionalism is hanging on by a thread at this point. Because you’re still technically his ‘client’, despite the fact that you both sleep in the same bed together every day and he knows your mind and body by heart. 

But you’re also his girlfriend… who is completely topless in front of him. So his thoughts are basically bound to go haywire. 

“Alright, try to relax for me again, baby,” Joshua instructs, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. He leans over you, close enough that the warmth of his body hits your skin, and presses a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you back into position. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that?”

The machine buzzes back to life, and the needle meets your skin once more with that delicious burn, causing an unconscious whimper to tumble out of you. The dragon’s body is thicker towards the middle of your back, but Joshua works his way down with steady and careful strokes, ink blooming beneath your skin like ribbons.

But you can sense the shift in him. 

His breathing grows heavier with every involuntary sound you let out from the pain or how your back arches beautifully when a raw area is drawn over, brows furrowed together as he works in concentration, even if it’s fraying by each minute that passes. 

When he finally reaches the tail-end of the dragon𑁋just above the waistband of your shorts and the swell of your ass𑁋the needle drags across the sensitive skin of your lower back, sending sharp sparks straight down your spine and between your legs. You can’t stop the soft, needy moan that escapes you this time. 

“Colour?” Joshua asks, wiping away the excess ink. 

A shaky breath leaves you, trying to steady yourself even if your body feels like it’s been set ablaze in the best and worst ways. 

“Green… mostly,” You mutter in response. “It’s a lot on the lower back, but I can take it.”

Joshua hums in acknowledgement, offering a reassuring squeeze to your hip. You feel him shift on the stool beside you, his gloved hand roaming down your lower back and stopping just shy of the waistband of your shorts. One of his fingers slides underneath from behind to trace the sensitive skin there teasingly. 

His warm breath fans against you, a smug smirk on his face that you can’t see but can definitely sense. “I can tell you’re wet for me, love.” 

Heat instantly floods your cheeks, embarrassment crawling up your spine. “Shua…”

“Dirty girl,” he says with a low chuckle, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Getting turned on by me marking up your back, hm?”

You bite at your bottom lip hard in embarrassment, both mortified and aroused at the same time. The bastard knows you too well. 

“I can’t help it,” You mumble shyly, refusing to look at him. “It feels good… especially with your hands on me.” 

Joshua gives a playful snap to his gloves, causing you to flinch in the seat out of pure anticipation. God, it kills him to see how needy you are for him right now𑁋but he has a job to finish and he’s determined to do so. He’s blessed at being able to keep his patience afloat, most times to tease you more than anything; otherwise, he would have you bent over the chair right now. 

“I still have the lower back to finish,” he reminds you, reluctantly pulling his hand away from you. “Think you can behave long enough for me to do it?” 

You nod your head, even as you grind subtly into the chair for that small ounce of friction. You say yes, but you both know that’s a lie. 

The machine whirs back to life instantly. When the sharp stick of the needle meets the sensitive skin of your lower back, your whole body reacts. The skin there is tender and sensitive after the long hours of being worked over. And the second Joshua drags another line across your lower back, your hips twitch up involuntarily as you fight to stay still. If today is only for the outline, you could only imagine how the shading process would be like. 

“Breathe for me, love,” Joshua coos lightly, pausing for a minute. He flattens a hand to the curve of your waist to hold you down and rub circles on your skin. “Lower back is evil, I know. Just a little more.”

Easy for him to say.

You feel the vibrations of the machine travel straight through your pelvis. Your grip tightens around the leather backrest, breasts pressed flush against the chair as you try to breathe through the stinging fire licking up your spine. 

“So pretty like this,” he praises absentmindedly as he draws out the cherry blossom petals. “Taking it so well for me, sweetheart…”

You can’t tell if the praise makes it better or worse. Worse, probably𑁋it sinks hotter into your skin than the needle does. You’re probably soaked as well. Embarrassingly so, since his hands have been on you the entire time, and the words that come out are in that familiar adoring tone he only uses in the bedroom with you. You’re not sure if what you’re feeling is pain or need anymore. 

Joshua knows it too. His low chuckle vibrates through the quiet room as he continues the final outlines on the cherry blossoms right where the tail curls. 

After what feels like a literal eternity, the machine is finally killed off for the last time, and the room falls into a strange kind of silence with the exception of your ridiculously heavy breathing. The relief is immediate when the needle is away from your burning skin, but the desperate ache between your thighs continues to throb. You near the loud snap of Joshua removing his latex gloves and rolling his stool back to retrieve the aftercare supplies.

Joshua takes his precious time wiping away what remains of the excess ink over your inflamed skin. After everything is pat dry, he applies a final layer of soothing ointment, before slowly rolling on the second skin, pressing it down with careful palms from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve of your lower back. The cool, transparent film material settles protectively over the fresh dragon and cherry blossoms, sealing them in. 

The moment he’s done, you hear him lean back on the stool, just staring at you𑁋and his work𑁋for a long minute. You lift your head to glance at him over your shoulder.

He looks completely wrecked. There’s some exhaustion there obviously, fatigue sitting directly beneath his eyes from all the long hours of concentration. But the heat in his gaze is unmistakable. 

“Are you gonna say something or just stare at me forever?” You ask him with a sly look. 

Joshua blinks as if you pulled him out of a trance. 

“God, come here, love,” he urges, and before you can respond, he’s pulling you by the arms and leading you towards the large mirror in the corner of the room. 

He positions you right in front of the mirror, standing behind you with his hands resting on your hips. The fairy lights cast a warm glow across your skin, almost making the second skin on your back shimmer faintly. 

“Look,” Joshua whispers hotly, spinning you gently so your back is visible in the reflection. “Look at what we made together.”

Your breath catches in your throat when you catch sight of the tattoo for the very first time. The dragon coils elegantly down your spine as if it had always belonged there. Cherry blossom branches and petals drift along its body like they’re caught in a permanent spring breeze. The head rests between your shoulder blades while the tail disappears low near the waistband of your shorts. It looks almost alive. 

“Shua…” You breathe, unable to find the proper words from how stunned you are as you peer back up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

Joshua nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling you in, before tilting his head slightly so that his mouth barely grazes your neck. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, gliding his hands up your sides, stopping short of your breasts. “It’s more than beautiful, love. It’s perfect on you.” 

A kiss to your neck severs any kind of response you could say, stealing the words right off your tongue and replacing it with a soft, trembling breath. Joshua smiles against your skin, pulling more shaky sighs out of you as he kisses his way down to your collarbone. 

When he pulls away, your eyes lock together. In the small space between your bodies, you can feel the hours of lingering tension, pain, pride, and need. Joshua’s gaze is dark, full of love and unbridled hunger. You only have to flick your attention down to his lips once before he’s on you. 

Joshua’s mouth crashes onto yours, fueled by the desperation that’s been simmering for the past few hours. His tongue slides against yours like he’s trying to taste every sound of discomfort and pleasure that left you. You moan softly into his mouth as your hands tangle up in his dark hair, his arms sliding around you to pull you closer but ensuring to not put any pressure on your freshly tattooed back. You can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. 

“Careful, beautiful,” he breathes against your lips, even as he walks you backward until the backs of your knees collide with the client chair. “It’s still fresh. I’m not ruining my best work because I can’t keep my hands off you.” 

But the way he’s kissing you says otherwise. And the way his fingers wander underneath your shorts to cup your clothed pussy says otherwise, too. 

“I need you, Shua,” You mutter breathlessly, hands sliding underneath his sleeveless top as you feel his fingers glide through your soaked folds. “Please… want you inside me.”

Joshua groans at your pleads, exhaling harshly through his nose.

“God, how can I ever deny you?” he rasps darkly, guiding you around so that your chest is braced up against the side of the chair. “Keep that pretty back arched for me, baby.” 

You obey instantly, folding forward and resting your forearms on the seat. The position leaves you shamelessly exposed for him, your back arching beautifully so that he has the perfect sight of the dragon tattoo from behind.

Joshua’s breath catches. “Fuck, just like that…”

You hear the rustle of fabric as he finally pushes his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. Then you feel him drag down your lounge shorts in one smooth motion, letting them pool at your ankles. He steps up behind you, one hand smoothing up the back of your thigh while the other kneads at the soft flesh of your hip, thumb brushing just beneath the edge of the second skin. 

He leans in to plant open-mouthed over the untouched skin of your back, his hardened cock nudging teasingly at your entrance. The heat of his breath ghosts across your spine as he drags his lips slowly upward.

“Still okay?” he whispers, voice rough yet still tainted with that familiar tenderness that makes your chest ache. “Tell me if anything hurts, love.”

You subtly grind yourself back against him, aching for more. He grips your hips even more tightly at the contact.

“I’m okay,” You reassure him, voice trembling with need. “Want all of you, Shua… please.”

Joshua presses one more lingering, grateful kiss to the centre of your upper back right beside the dragon’s head as if to silently say thank you, before slowly pushing the thick head of his cock inside your soaked entrance. The two of you moan softly at the familiarity of your bodies joining together. His bare chest leans protectively over your body, close enough that you feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back. 

He slowly enters you inch by inch, letting you feel every ridge and vein inside until his hips are flush against your ass. A shared, breathy moans from the two of you travels through the quiet apartment. He stays still for a long moment, just to savour the feeling of being perfectly connected with you and to let you adjust. One of his arms wraps gently around your waist to rest a warm palm over your stomach as he continues to worship attention to every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth. 

Then he starts to move𑁋unhurried deep thrusts that drags his cock alongside your sensitive walls. His hand on your stomach lowers until they’re between your legs, fingers seeking your clit and running through your wetness to bring that added pleasure. You push back against him, desperate for more, but he keeps the pace torturously steady.

“Take it easy, sweetheart,” Joshua murmurs against the shell of your ear. “Don’t move too much. Let me take care of you.”

His free hand tantalisingly traces the edge of the second skin. The sight of his art on your spine while he fucks you spurs him on even further. With a guttural groan, he starts to pick up the pace, still mindful of your back but unable to hold himself back completely. The wet sounds of your bodies mixes in with your broken whimpers, each thrust sending thrilling flames of pain and pleasure down your body.

You grip the leather chair even tighter, your back arching deeper instinctively. “Shua𑁋right there𑁋fuck𑁋”

Joshua curses under his breath. He angles his hips slightly to kiss that particular spot that makes your vision blur, his fingers moving on your clit even faster.

“That’s it,” he praises thickly in that low, filthy register you love, giving an encouraging squeeze to your ass. “Let me hear you, love. You took my needle so fucking well… and now you’re taking my cock just as pretty. Been thinking about this every single minute I was marking you.” 

His words make you clench tightly around him, drawing a deep groan out of his chest. His hips begin to snap harder into you, causing your head to helplessly fall onto the cool leather of the chair as he continues fucking you from behind. Every thrust sends your breasts crushing harder into the chair, nipples aching from the friction. 

You’re so embarrassingly close already from the hours of teasing, the needle’s sting, and his cock driving in and out of you at a relentless rhythm. 

“My perfect canvas… my masterpiece…” he murmurs possessively against your skin, sending another rush of heat through you. “All mine to mark, to worship, and fuck.” 

When your legs start to shake, Joshua notices it immediately, responding by rubbing more tighter circles on your clit, exactly how you like it. His own rhythm starts to falter as he feels himself nearing the edge as well, but he doesn’t dare slow down. He wants𑁋no, craves𑁋to see you fall apart while his art is still fresh on your back. 

“Shua𑁋shit𑁋I’m close, so close𑁋” You pant hoarsely, feeling the coil in your stomach wind tighter and tighter. 

“Yeah?” he asks, teeth grazing over your shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby. You’re squeezing me so good𑁋come on, sweetheart𑁋”

That’s all it takes.

Your orgasm crashes into your hard, a broken sob of his name tearing out of your throat as your walls pulse around him. The pleasure and fiery pain ripping through your body only heightens your release even stronger. Joshua’s hips stutter against you, his fingers working through you to draw every last sigh until you’re sensitive and gasping. 

When the last hints of your orgasm fades, he finally lets himself go as well, burying himself deep inside of you with a short-winded grunt. His forehead drops onto the slick skin of your shoulder, his chest rising and falling heavily against you. 

Neither of you move for a while, only listening to one another’s ragged breathing as you both come down from your intense releases together. Joshua reaches down to intertwine his hand with yours that’s been gripping the chair so tautly. 

“You okay?” he asks breathlessly while caressing a tender finger over your hip bone with his free hand. “Does anything hurt?”

You let out a shaky, yet contented chuckle. “Everything burns a little, but… it’s good. Really good.” You give a reassuring squeeze to his hand. “Mmmh… you’re insatiable.”

Joshua hums in relief. “You’re the insatiable one, my love. Have you seen yourself? And we still have to do the shading𑁋how am I supposed to hold myself back for that?”

Your cheeks flare up at his words, causing you to smack him playfully on the rear, but he retaliates with a tender kiss to the side of your neck. Then he cautiously pulls out of you, the two of you hissing at the sensitivity. He helps you straighten up before spinning you around to give you a proper kiss on the lips, bringing that shy giggle out of you that he adores so much when he draws back.

He angles your body slightly to check the second skin on your back, making sure it’s secure.

“Everything looks good,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s going to heal so beautifully on you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You grin up at him with hazy eyes. “I know you will.”

As he helps you back into your shirt and puts on his own clothes, he leads you to your shared bedroom. Now that the healing process has started, he knows he can’t wait to see how it’ll look entirely completed in its beauty𑁋when he can run his fingertips over it without worry, and maybe, just maybe, when he can pin you down into the sheets and worship his work on you once again. 

Because you still have to get through the shading sessions.

And he plans to make each one unforgettable.

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All of your current tattoos are from him too. Tiny constellations scattered along your ribs. The moth beneath your collarbone that he freehanded at three in the morning because neither of you could sleep. A koi fish running down the curve of your hip. Every single piece carries his fingerprints in it somewhere.

The fairy lights hung around the room have been dimmed low, the coffee table pushed aside, and his client chair unfolded in the open space near the big window. Soft rain taps against the glass from the outside, and some calm lo-fi music plays throughout the apartment to set the mood and calm your nerves, even if you’ve planned this for a while𑁋Joshua had sacrificed hours upon hours to bring your idea to life. You can’t back away from this now. 

The idea is a long, elegant spine tattoo: a powerful dragon that coils gracefully down your back with its body and sharp scales interwoven with delicate cherry blossoms. Strength and softness tangled together, exactly as you had imagined. You remember when you first told him about it and the way his eyes had grown wide, like a mixture of excitement and awe, but also… a subtle pinch of fear.

Because it’s you, and he knows that he can’t afford to screw up, especially with something as permanent as a tattoo. You’re willingly offering a big piece of yourself for him to mark, and that’s a huge weight he’s had to carry while sketching out your concept. There’s no undo button for that kind of trust. 

“I’ve thought about this for a long time, Shua,” You tell him firmly, though there’s that twitch of your nerves to your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no going back now.”

Joshua’s eyes turn fond, taking a step closer to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless black top, the fabric stretching across his chest and showing off the ink drawn over his skin. One of his arms is completely bare of any tattoos, but his other is a beautiful canvas of pieces he’s collected over the years𑁋some intricate fineline, others that are more bold and striking. He even has some dotted over his ribs as well, particularly the Gemini tattoo that you love kissing.

He reaches out instinctively, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your head falls onto his chest naturally, breathing him in, giving him the opportunity to press a kiss to the top of your head. You can feel his steady heartbeat against your cheek, and it helps to lessen your nerves a little.

After all, it’s temporary pain for something permanent on your skin forever. And of course, it’s created by the man you love. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, pulling back to look at you properly. “Let’s get you ready then, love. Can I take this off you?”

His fingers linger underneath your (his) shirt, tracing circles on your back as if he’s drawing it out on you. It sends shivers of anticipation up and down your spine. He’s giving you one last chance to change your mind, but you both already know you won’t.

You tilt your head to look at him back. “Yes. Please.”

You swear you see his eyes darken for a split second at your words. Without another word, he leads you to the mirror perched in the corner, turns your back to him, and peels the oversized shirt off slow enough it almost seems like he’s purposely teasing you. You help by lifting your arms as it slips off you, leaving you bare from the waist up. You’re not even wearing a bra underneath, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

For a second, he just… stares at you in the mirror, lips pursing at the way your nipples tighten in the cool air. Then he drinks in the sight of your bare back𑁋his beautiful untouched canvas𑁋taking in how the dim lighting in the room highlights the line of your spine and the elegant curve of your shoulders. The thought that he’s about to leave something permanent there visibly makes him swallow. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “How am I supposed to concentrate for the next six hours when you look like this?”

“Like what?” You ask amusedly, meeting his heated gaze in the mirror.

“Like a goddess,” he finishes roughly, letting a hand hover near your waist, close but not exactly touching you, as if he’s scared to ruin you with carelessness. “A masterpiece I shouldn’t be allowed to worship.”

Heat blooms through your face at that. You grab his hand that’s lingering over your side, guiding it to where he’s finally touching you properly. His palm is slightly cold at first, but it warms instantly the second he’s touches your skin. His other hand joins in, sliding up your ribs until both palms rest just beneath your breasts, thumbs tenderly brushing the undersides. Then he leans in to kiss a line down from your nape, nipping gently on where your neck meets your shoulder. 

He smiles against your skin when he feels you tremble in his hold.

“I love it when you worship me,” You tell him quietly.

Immediately, you swear you see the way your words make his mind flash𑁋perhaps with images of past intimate nights with your bodies tangled in bed together, his mouth between your thighs for hours, marking his territory on top of his own art. He also imagines how you’d look from behind when he sinks inside𑁋

“On the chair now,” he orders, forcing himself backward. “before I lose my mind.”

With a breathless giggle, you sit down on the client chair, straddling it so that your chest is pinned against the leather backrest. The position leaves your entire back deliciously exposed to him. You hear the sound of gloves being snapped on and the roll of his stool wheeling right next to you. Even though you can’t see him, you still feel the heat of his eyes roaming over you.

The next few minutes are spent cleaning you. Joshua’s gloved hands move slowly as he wipes your entire back down with antiseptic solution, his thumbs applying some reassuring pressure along your spine. You shiver when it hits your skin, and he notices immediately. 

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “Still okay?”

“Mhm,” You breathe, eyes half-closed. “Just… sensitive.”

He hums in understanding, then leans in to place a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

Once your skin is clean, he carefully applies the stencil. He smooths it down your skin inch by inch with both hands from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve just above your ass. You can already imagine every detail of it𑁋the long, coiling scaly body of the dragon, along with the delicate cherry blossom branches that will soften it. 

When the stencil is peeled away, both the room and Joshua take a collective deep breath together. 

The dragon already looks beautifully alive on your skin. Its serpentine body twists down the length of your spine, the tail end just above the waistband of your lounge shorts. Cherry blossom petals and branches burst along its scales, a few petals seemingly drifting free like a small breeze across your skin. The lines are fine, crisp, perfect. Even Joshua himself seems completely speechless of the linework that he created. 

There’s really nobody else that you trust more than him to do this. 

“Wow,” he utters out softly, refusing to blink for a few seconds as if he’s scared you’ll vanish. “You look… illegal, baby.”

A choked laugh leaves you, reality settling within your bones that you’re seriously doing this. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He caresses a gloved finger down your back right beside the stencil. “You’re really going to sit through this, huh?”

“You’re really going to make me sit through it.”

“Fair,” he quips with a grin, before exhaling a breath through his nose. “But if it gets too much or becomes too painful, you tell me immediately, okay? We’re only doing the outline for today, then shading later another time.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, wiggling a brow at him. “Bossy.”

“I’m serious,” Joshua says pointedly, yet there’s a layer of softness underneath. “This is your body, love.”

That lands more harder than it should.

Your smile fades and brightens at the same time. “And I trust you with it, Shua. I always have.” 

Joshua pauses from where he’s been squeezing out the black ink into some tiny plastic caps. For a moment, you see the professional artist facade on his face crack and sparkle of love in his eyes. Because after all, he is your boyfriend𑁋the man who kisses your forehead when you’re sick and the one who’s about to carve forever on your skin with hands that’s thoroughly mapped every inch of you. 

He rolls his stool until he’s right in front of you. Without any hesitation, he leans in to steal a slow, deep kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours for a minute. 

“Then let me make this perfect for you, my brave girl,” he whispers assuringly, rolling himself back beside you. The sound of the machine buzzing to life cuts through the rain shower outside and the low tunes of his playlist. “Colour system, alright? I’ll work my way from the top to the bottom.” 

You nod, gripping the top of the client chair a little tighter as the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine fills the room. After getting multiple pieces done already, you find the sound oddly comforting now, especially if it’s with Joshua. 

When the needle touches down at the nape of your neck, your lips tighten together into a thin line and you have to force yourself not to flinch. You feel the vibrations of the machine carry into your skull as Joshua starts to outline the head of the dragon, keeping one hand settled at the small of your back anytime the needle starts dragging to more sensitive flesh. 

Each precise pass sends little sparks of fire down your nerves, some of them curling low in your belly in a way that feels way inappropriate given the situation. As the long minutes drag by, you close your eyes and rest your forehead onto the cool leather backrest. Every so often Joshua lifts the machine to wipe away any excess ink and blood, and to plant soothing kisses beside the fresh ink as if to apologise for the pain and praise you for your strength at the same time. It’s strangely intimate𑁋letting him mark you like this, claim you like this. 

Minutes slowly blur to an hour. The silence is filled mostly with Joshua updating you with the progress so far and checking in on you, the occasional sigh of discomfort from your lips when the needle hits a particularly sensitive spot on your spine, and his playlist now shifting to some smooth jazz (Sade, mostly). By the time the second hour hits, Joshua kills the machine for a short break, which gives you the opportunity to finally stretch from being stuck in the chair for so long.

“The head and neck are done,” he tells you, ditching the gloves and offering you some water. “How are you feeling?”

You extend your arms up to the ceiling, groaning at the sensitivity in your muscles. 

“Stiff,” You admit hoarsely, rolling your shoulders carefully. “Burns like hell near my spine. But… I’m okay. I want to keep going.” 

Joshua watches you with soft, attentive eyes as you take the glass of water from him. The sleeveless top he’s wearing clings to his frame from the warmth of the room. His gaze drifts down your bare torso and the redness of your skin from where the needle had been, lingering on the way your breasts move as you stretch, before flicking back up to your face. 

His sweatpants are beginning to feel uncomfortably tight too, but he tries to ignore the feeling with an audible cough out of his throat. The professionalism is hanging on by a thread at this point. Because you’re still technically his ‘client’, despite the fact that you both sleep in the same bed together every day and he knows your mind and body by heart. 

But you’re also his girlfriend… who is completely topless in front of him. So his thoughts are basically bound to go haywire. 

“Alright, try to relax for me again, baby,” Joshua instructs, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. He leans over you, close enough that the warmth of his body hits your skin, and presses a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you back into position. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that?”

The machine buzzes back to life, and the needle meets your skin once more with that delicious burn, causing an unconscious whimper to tumble out of you. The dragon’s body is thicker towards the middle of your back, but Joshua works his way down with steady and careful strokes, ink blooming beneath your skin like ribbons.

But you can sense the shift in him. 

His breathing grows heavier with every involuntary sound you let out from the pain or how your back arches beautifully when a raw area is drawn over, brows furrowed together as he works in concentration, even if it’s fraying by each minute that passes. 

When he finally reaches the tail-end of the dragon𑁋just above the waistband of your shorts and the swell of your ass𑁋the needle drags across the sensitive skin of your lower back, sending sharp sparks straight down your spine and between your legs. You can’t stop the soft, needy moan that escapes you this time. 

“Colour?” Joshua asks, wiping away the excess ink. 

A shaky breath leaves you, trying to steady yourself even if your body feels like it’s been set ablaze in the best and worst ways. 

“Green… mostly,” You mutter in response. “It’s a lot on the lower back, but I can take it.”

Joshua hums in acknowledgement, offering a reassuring squeeze to your hip. You feel him shift on the stool beside you, his gloved hand roaming down your lower back and stopping just shy of the waistband of your shorts. One of his fingers slides underneath from behind to trace the sensitive skin there teasingly. 

His warm breath fans against you, a smug smirk on his face that you can’t see but can definitely sense. “I can tell you’re wet for me, love.” 

Heat instantly floods your cheeks, embarrassment crawling up your spine. “Shua…”

“Dirty girl,” he says with a low chuckle, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Getting turned on by me marking up your back, hm?”

You bite at your bottom lip hard in embarrassment, both mortified and aroused at the same time. The bastard knows you too well. 

“I can’t help it,” You mumble shyly, refusing to look at him. “It feels good… especially with your hands on me.” 

Joshua gives a playful snap to his gloves, causing you to flinch in the seat out of pure anticipation. God, it kills him to see how needy you are for him right now𑁋but he has a job to finish and he’s determined to do so. He’s blessed at being able to keep his patience afloat, most times to tease you more than anything; otherwise, he would have you bent over the chair right now. 

“I still have the lower back to finish,” he reminds you, reluctantly pulling his hand away from you. “Think you can behave long enough for me to do it?” 

You nod your head, even as you grind subtly into the chair for that small ounce of friction. You say yes, but you both know that’s a lie. 

The machine whirs back to life instantly. When the sharp stick of the needle meets the sensitive skin of your lower back, your whole body reacts. The skin there is tender and sensitive after the long hours of being worked over. And the second Joshua drags another line across your lower back, your hips twitch up involuntarily as you fight to stay still. If today is only for the outline, you could only imagine how the shading process would be like. 

“Breathe for me, love,” Joshua coos lightly, pausing for a minute. He flattens a hand to the curve of your waist to hold you down and rub circles on your skin. “Lower back is evil, I know. Just a little more.”

Easy for him to say.

You feel the vibrations of the machine travel straight through your pelvis. Your grip tightens around the leather backrest, breasts pressed flush against the chair as you try to breathe through the stinging fire licking up your spine. 

“So pretty like this,” he praises absentmindedly as he draws out the cherry blossom petals. “Taking it so well for me, sweetheart…”

You can’t tell if the praise makes it better or worse. Worse, probably𑁋it sinks hotter into your skin than the needle does. You’re probably soaked as well. Embarrassingly so, since his hands have been on you the entire time, and the words that come out are in that familiar adoring tone he only uses in the bedroom with you. You’re not sure if what you’re feeling is pain or need anymore. 

Joshua knows it too. His low chuckle vibrates through the quiet room as he continues the final outlines on the cherry blossoms right where the tail curls. 

After what feels like a literal eternity, the machine is finally killed off for the last time, and the room falls into a strange kind of silence with the exception of your ridiculously heavy breathing. The relief is immediate when the needle is away from your burning skin, but the desperate ache between your thighs continues to throb. You near the loud snap of Joshua removing his latex gloves and rolling his stool back to retrieve the aftercare supplies.

Joshua takes his precious time wiping away what remains of the excess ink over your inflamed skin. After everything is pat dry, he applies a final layer of soothing ointment, before slowly rolling on the second skin, pressing it down with careful palms from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve of your lower back. The cool, transparent film material settles protectively over the fresh dragon and cherry blossoms, sealing them in. 

The moment he’s done, you hear him lean back on the stool, just staring at you𑁋and his work𑁋for a long minute. You lift your head to glance at him over your shoulder.

He looks completely wrecked. There’s some exhaustion there obviously, fatigue sitting directly beneath his eyes from all the long hours of concentration. But the heat in his gaze is unmistakable. 

“Are you gonna say something or just stare at me forever?” You ask him with a sly look. 

Joshua blinks as if you pulled him out of a trance. 

“God, come here, love,” he urges, and before you can respond, he’s pulling you by the arms and leading you towards the large mirror in the corner of the room. 

He positions you right in front of the mirror, standing behind you with his hands resting on your hips. The fairy lights cast a warm glow across your skin, almost making the second skin on your back shimmer faintly. 

“Look,” Joshua whispers hotly, spinning you gently so your back is visible in the reflection. “Look at what we made together.”

Your breath catches in your throat when you catch sight of the tattoo for the very first time. The dragon coils elegantly down your spine as if it had always belonged there. Cherry blossom branches and petals drift along its body like they’re caught in a permanent spring breeze. The head rests between your shoulder blades while the tail disappears low near the waistband of your shorts. It looks almost alive. 

“Shua…” You breathe, unable to find the proper words from how stunned you are as you peer back up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

Joshua nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling you in, before tilting his head slightly so that his mouth barely grazes your neck. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, gliding his hands up your sides, stopping short of your breasts. “It’s more than beautiful, love. It’s perfect on you.” 

A kiss to your neck severs any kind of response you could say, stealing the words right off your tongue and replacing it with a soft, trembling breath. Joshua smiles against your skin, pulling more shaky sighs out of you as he kisses his way down to your collarbone. 

When he pulls away, your eyes lock together. In the small space between your bodies, you can feel the hours of lingering tension, pain, pride, and need. Joshua’s gaze is dark, full of love and unbridled hunger. You only have to flick your attention down to his lips once before he’s on you. 

Joshua’s mouth crashes onto yours, fueled by the desperation that’s been simmering for the past few hours. His tongue slides against yours like he’s trying to taste every sound of discomfort and pleasure that left you. You moan softly into his mouth as your hands tangle up in his dark hair, his arms sliding around you to pull you closer but ensuring to not put any pressure on your freshly tattooed back. You can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. 

“Careful, beautiful,” he breathes against your lips, even as he walks you backward until the backs of your knees collide with the client chair. “It’s still fresh. I’m not ruining my best work because I can’t keep my hands off you.” 

But the way he’s kissing you says otherwise. And the way his fingers wander underneath your shorts to cup your clothed pussy says otherwise, too. 

“I need you, Shua,” You mutter breathlessly, hands sliding underneath his sleeveless top as you feel his fingers glide through your soaked folds. “Please… want you inside me.”

Joshua groans at your pleads, exhaling harshly through his nose.

“God, how can I ever deny you?” he rasps darkly, guiding you around so that your chest is braced up against the side of the chair. “Keep that pretty back arched for me, baby.” 

You obey instantly, folding forward and resting your forearms on the seat. The position leaves you shamelessly exposed for him, your back arching beautifully so that he has the perfect sight of the dragon tattoo from behind.

Joshua’s breath catches. “Fuck, just like that…”

You hear the rustle of fabric as he finally pushes his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. Then you feel him drag down your lounge shorts in one smooth motion, letting them pool at your ankles. He steps up behind you, one hand smoothing up the back of your thigh while the other kneads at the soft flesh of your hip, thumb brushing just beneath the edge of the second skin. 

He leans in to plant open-mouthed over the untouched skin of your back, his hardened cock nudging teasingly at your entrance. The heat of his breath ghosts across your spine as he drags his lips slowly upward.

“Still okay?” he whispers, voice rough yet still tainted with that familiar tenderness that makes your chest ache. “Tell me if anything hurts, love.”

You subtly grind yourself back against him, aching for more. He grips your hips even more tightly at the contact.

“I’m okay,” You reassure him, voice trembling with need. “Want all of you, Shua… please.”

Joshua presses one more lingering, grateful kiss to the centre of your upper back right beside the dragon’s head as if to silently say thank you, before slowly pushing the thick head of his cock inside your soaked entrance. The two of you moan softly at the familiarity of your bodies joining together. His bare chest leans protectively over your body, close enough that you feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back. 

He slowly enters you inch by inch, letting you feel every ridge and vein inside until his hips are flush against your ass. A shared, breathy moans from the two of you travels through the quiet apartment. He stays still for a long moment, just to savour the feeling of being perfectly connected with you and to let you adjust. One of his arms wraps gently around your waist to rest a warm palm over your stomach as he continues to worship attention to every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth. 

Then he starts to move𑁋unhurried deep thrusts that drags his cock alongside your sensitive walls. His hand on your stomach lowers until they’re between your legs, fingers seeking your clit and running through your wetness to bring that added pleasure. You push back against him, desperate for more, but he keeps the pace torturously steady.

“Take it easy, sweetheart,” Joshua murmurs against the shell of your ear. “Don’t move too much. Let me take care of you.”

His free hand tantalisingly traces the edge of the second skin. The sight of his art on your spine while he fucks you spurs him on even further. With a guttural groan, he starts to pick up the pace, still mindful of your back but unable to hold himself back completely. The wet sounds of your bodies mixes in with your broken whimpers, each thrust sending thrilling flames of pain and pleasure down your body.

You grip the leather chair even tighter, your back arching deeper instinctively. “Shua𑁋right there𑁋fuck𑁋”

Joshua curses under his breath. He angles his hips slightly to kiss that particular spot that makes your vision blur, his fingers moving on your clit even faster.

“That’s it,” he praises thickly in that low, filthy register you love, giving an encouraging squeeze to your ass. “Let me hear you, love. You took my needle so fucking well… and now you’re taking my cock just as pretty. Been thinking about this every single minute I was marking you.” 

His words make you clench tightly around him, drawing a deep groan out of his chest. His hips begin to snap harder into you, causing your head to helplessly fall onto the cool leather of the chair as he continues fucking you from behind. Every thrust sends your breasts crushing harder into the chair, nipples aching from the friction. 

You’re so embarrassingly close already from the hours of teasing, the needle’s sting, and his cock driving in and out of you at a relentless rhythm. 

“My perfect canvas… my masterpiece…” he murmurs possessively against your skin, sending another rush of heat through you. “All mine to mark, to worship, and fuck.” 

When your legs start to shake, Joshua notices it immediately, responding by rubbing more tighter circles on your clit, exactly how you like it. His own rhythm starts to falter as he feels himself nearing the edge as well, but he doesn’t dare slow down. He wants𑁋no, craves𑁋to see you fall apart while his art is still fresh on your back. 

“Shua𑁋shit𑁋I’m close, so close𑁋” You pant hoarsely, feeling the coil in your stomach wind tighter and tighter. 

“Yeah?” he asks, teeth grazing over your shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby. You’re squeezing me so good𑁋come on, sweetheart𑁋”

That’s all it takes.

Your orgasm crashes into your hard, a broken sob of his name tearing out of your throat as your walls pulse around him. The pleasure and fiery pain ripping through your body only heightens your release even stronger. Joshua’s hips stutter against you, his fingers working through you to draw every last sigh until you’re sensitive and gasping. 

When the last hints of your orgasm fades, he finally lets himself go as well, burying himself deep inside of you with a short-winded grunt. His forehead drops onto the slick skin of your shoulder, his chest rising and falling heavily against you. 

Neither of you move for a while, only listening to one another’s ragged breathing as you both come down from your intense releases together. Joshua reaches down to intertwine his hand with yours that’s been gripping the chair so tautly. 

“You okay?” he asks breathlessly while caressing a tender finger over your hip bone with his free hand. “Does anything hurt?”

You let out a shaky, yet contented chuckle. “Everything burns a little, but… it’s good. Really good.” You give a reassuring squeeze to his hand. “Mmmh… you’re insatiable.”

Joshua hums in relief. “You’re the insatiable one, my love. Have you seen yourself? And we still have to do the shading𑁋how am I supposed to hold myself back for that?”

Your cheeks flare up at his words, causing you to smack him playfully on the rear, but he retaliates with a tender kiss to the side of your neck. Then he cautiously pulls out of you, the two of you hissing at the sensitivity. He helps you straighten up before spinning you around to give you a proper kiss on the lips, bringing that shy giggle out of you that he adores so much when he draws back.

He angles your body slightly to check the second skin on your back, making sure it’s secure.

“Everything looks good,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s going to heal so beautifully on you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You grin up at him with hazy eyes. “I know you will.”

As he helps you back into your shirt and puts on his own clothes, he leads you to your shared bedroom. Now that the healing process has started, he knows he can’t wait to see how it’ll look entirely completed in its beauty𑁋when he can run his fingertips over it without worry, and maybe, just maybe, when he can pin you down into the sheets and worship his work on you once again. 

Because you still have to get through the shading sessions.

And he plans to make each one unforgettable.

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All of your current tattoos are from him too. Tiny constellations scattered along your ribs. The moth beneath your collarbone that he freehanded at three in the morning because neither of you could sleep. A koi fish running down the curve of your hip. Every single piece carries his fingerprints in it somewhere.

The fairy lights hung around the room have been dimmed low, the coffee table pushed aside, and his client chair unfolded in the open space near the big window. Soft rain taps against the glass from the outside, and some calm lo-fi music plays throughout the apartment to set the mood and calm your nerves, even if you’ve planned this for a while𑁋Joshua had sacrificed hours upon hours to bring your idea to life. You can’t back away from this now. 

The idea is a long, elegant spine tattoo: a powerful dragon that coils gracefully down your back with its body and sharp scales interwoven with delicate cherry blossoms. Strength and softness tangled together, exactly as you had imagined. You remember when you first told him about it and the way his eyes had grown wide, like a mixture of excitement and awe, but also… a subtle pinch of fear.

Because it’s you, and he knows that he can’t afford to screw up, especially with something as permanent as a tattoo. You’re willingly offering a big piece of yourself for him to mark, and that’s a huge weight he’s had to carry while sketching out your concept. There’s no undo button for that kind of trust. 

“I’ve thought about this for a long time, Shua,” You tell him firmly, though there’s that twitch of your nerves to your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no going back now.”

Joshua’s eyes turn fond, taking a step closer to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless black top, the fabric stretching across his chest and showing off the ink drawn over his skin. One of his arms is completely bare of any tattoos, but his other is a beautiful canvas of pieces he’s collected over the years𑁋some intricate fineline, others that are more bold and striking. He even has some dotted over his ribs as well, particularly the Gemini tattoo that you love kissing.

He reaches out instinctively, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your head falls onto his chest naturally, breathing him in, giving him the opportunity to press a kiss to the top of your head. You can feel his steady heartbeat against your cheek, and it helps to lessen your nerves a little.

After all, it’s temporary pain for something permanent on your skin forever. And of course, it’s created by the man you love. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, pulling back to look at you properly. “Let’s get you ready then, love. Can I take this off you?”

His fingers linger underneath your (his) shirt, tracing circles on your back as if he’s drawing it out on you. It sends shivers of anticipation up and down your spine. He’s giving you one last chance to change your mind, but you both already know you won’t.

You tilt your head to look at him back. “Yes. Please.”

You swear you see his eyes darken for a split second at your words. Without another word, he leads you to the mirror perched in the corner, turns your back to him, and peels the oversized shirt off slow enough it almost seems like he’s purposely teasing you. You help by lifting your arms as it slips off you, leaving you bare from the waist up. You’re not even wearing a bra underneath, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

For a second, he just… stares at you in the mirror, lips pursing at the way your nipples tighten in the cool air. Then he drinks in the sight of your bare back𑁋his beautiful untouched canvas𑁋taking in how the dim lighting in the room highlights the line of your spine and the elegant curve of your shoulders. The thought that he’s about to leave something permanent there visibly makes him swallow. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “How am I supposed to concentrate for the next six hours when you look like this?”

“Like what?” You ask amusedly, meeting his heated gaze in the mirror.

“Like a goddess,” he finishes roughly, letting a hand hover near your waist, close but not exactly touching you, as if he’s scared to ruin you with carelessness. “A masterpiece I shouldn’t be allowed to worship.”

Heat blooms through your face at that. You grab his hand that’s lingering over your side, guiding it to where he’s finally touching you properly. His palm is slightly cold at first, but it warms instantly the second he’s touches your skin. His other hand joins in, sliding up your ribs until both palms rest just beneath your breasts, thumbs tenderly brushing the undersides. Then he leans in to kiss a line down from your nape, nipping gently on where your neck meets your shoulder. 

He smiles against your skin when he feels you tremble in his hold.

“I love it when you worship me,” You tell him quietly.

Immediately, you swear you see the way your words make his mind flash𑁋perhaps with images of past intimate nights with your bodies tangled in bed together, his mouth between your thighs for hours, marking his territory on top of his own art. He also imagines how you’d look from behind when he sinks inside𑁋

“On the chair now,” he orders, forcing himself backward. “before I lose my mind.”

With a breathless giggle, you sit down on the client chair, straddling it so that your chest is pinned against the leather backrest. The position leaves your entire back deliciously exposed to him. You hear the sound of gloves being snapped on and the roll of his stool wheeling right next to you. Even though you can’t see him, you still feel the heat of his eyes roaming over you.

The next few minutes are spent cleaning you. Joshua’s gloved hands move slowly as he wipes your entire back down with antiseptic solution, his thumbs applying some reassuring pressure along your spine. You shiver when it hits your skin, and he notices immediately. 

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “Still okay?”

“Mhm,” You breathe, eyes half-closed. “Just… sensitive.”

He hums in understanding, then leans in to place a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

Once your skin is clean, he carefully applies the stencil. He smooths it down your skin inch by inch with both hands from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve just above your ass. You can already imagine every detail of it𑁋the long, coiling scaly body of the dragon, along with the delicate cherry blossom branches that will soften it. 

When the stencil is peeled away, both the room and Joshua take a collective deep breath together. 

The dragon already looks beautifully alive on your skin. Its serpentine body twists down the length of your spine, the tail end just above the waistband of your lounge shorts. Cherry blossom petals and branches burst along its scales, a few petals seemingly drifting free like a small breeze across your skin. The lines are fine, crisp, perfect. Even Joshua himself seems completely speechless of the linework that he created. 

There’s really nobody else that you trust more than him to do this. 

“Wow,” he utters out softly, refusing to blink for a few seconds as if he’s scared you’ll vanish. “You look… illegal, baby.”

A choked laugh leaves you, reality settling within your bones that you’re seriously doing this. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He caresses a gloved finger down your back right beside the stencil. “You’re really going to sit through this, huh?”

“You’re really going to make me sit through it.”

“Fair,” he quips with a grin, before exhaling a breath through his nose. “But if it gets too much or becomes too painful, you tell me immediately, okay? We’re only doing the outline for today, then shading later another time.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, wiggling a brow at him. “Bossy.”

“I’m serious,” Joshua says pointedly, yet there’s a layer of softness underneath. “This is your body, love.”

That lands more harder than it should.

Your smile fades and brightens at the same time. “And I trust you with it, Shua. I always have.” 

Joshua pauses from where he’s been squeezing out the black ink into some tiny plastic caps. For a moment, you see the professional artist facade on his face crack and sparkle of love in his eyes. Because after all, he is your boyfriend𑁋the man who kisses your forehead when you’re sick and the one who’s about to carve forever on your skin with hands that’s thoroughly mapped every inch of you. 

He rolls his stool until he’s right in front of you. Without any hesitation, he leans in to steal a slow, deep kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours for a minute. 

“Then let me make this perfect for you, my brave girl,” he whispers assuringly, rolling himself back beside you. The sound of the machine buzzing to life cuts through the rain shower outside and the low tunes of his playlist. “Colour system, alright? I’ll work my way from the top to the bottom.” 

You nod, gripping the top of the client chair a little tighter as the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine fills the room. After getting multiple pieces done already, you find the sound oddly comforting now, especially if it’s with Joshua. 

When the needle touches down at the nape of your neck, your lips tighten together into a thin line and you have to force yourself not to flinch. You feel the vibrations of the machine carry into your skull as Joshua starts to outline the head of the dragon, keeping one hand settled at the small of your back anytime the needle starts dragging to more sensitive flesh. 

Each precise pass sends little sparks of fire down your nerves, some of them curling low in your belly in a way that feels way inappropriate given the situation. As the long minutes drag by, you close your eyes and rest your forehead onto the cool leather backrest. Every so often Joshua lifts the machine to wipe away any excess ink and blood, and to plant soothing kisses beside the fresh ink as if to apologise for the pain and praise you for your strength at the same time. It’s strangely intimate𑁋letting him mark you like this, claim you like this. 

Minutes slowly blur to an hour. The silence is filled mostly with Joshua updating you with the progress so far and checking in on you, the occasional sigh of discomfort from your lips when the needle hits a particularly sensitive spot on your spine, and his playlist now shifting to some smooth jazz (Sade, mostly). By the time the second hour hits, Joshua kills the machine for a short break, which gives you the opportunity to finally stretch from being stuck in the chair for so long.

“The head and neck are done,” he tells you, ditching the gloves and offering you some water. “How are you feeling?”

You extend your arms up to the ceiling, groaning at the sensitivity in your muscles. 

“Stiff,” You admit hoarsely, rolling your shoulders carefully. “Burns like hell near my spine. But… I’m okay. I want to keep going.” 

Joshua watches you with soft, attentive eyes as you take the glass of water from him. The sleeveless top he’s wearing clings to his frame from the warmth of the room. His gaze drifts down your bare torso and the redness of your skin from where the needle had been, lingering on the way your breasts move as you stretch, before flicking back up to your face. 

His sweatpants are beginning to feel uncomfortably tight too, but he tries to ignore the feeling with an audible cough out of his throat. The professionalism is hanging on by a thread at this point. Because you’re still technically his ‘client’, despite the fact that you both sleep in the same bed together every day and he knows your mind and body by heart. 

But you’re also his girlfriend… who is completely topless in front of him. So his thoughts are basically bound to go haywire. 

“Alright, try to relax for me again, baby,” Joshua instructs, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. He leans over you, close enough that the warmth of his body hits your skin, and presses a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you back into position. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that?”

The machine buzzes back to life, and the needle meets your skin once more with that delicious burn, causing an unconscious whimper to tumble out of you. The dragon’s body is thicker towards the middle of your back, but Joshua works his way down with steady and careful strokes, ink blooming beneath your skin like ribbons.

But you can sense the shift in him. 

His breathing grows heavier with every involuntary sound you let out from the pain or how your back arches beautifully when a raw area is drawn over, brows furrowed together as he works in concentration, even if it’s fraying by each minute that passes. 

When he finally reaches the tail-end of the dragon𑁋just above the waistband of your shorts and the swell of your ass𑁋the needle drags across the sensitive skin of your lower back, sending sharp sparks straight down your spine and between your legs. You can’t stop the soft, needy moan that escapes you this time. 

“Colour?” Joshua asks, wiping away the excess ink. 

A shaky breath leaves you, trying to steady yourself even if your body feels like it’s been set ablaze in the best and worst ways. 

“Green… mostly,” You mutter in response. “It’s a lot on the lower back, but I can take it.”

Joshua hums in acknowledgement, offering a reassuring squeeze to your hip. You feel him shift on the stool beside you, his gloved hand roaming down your lower back and stopping just shy of the waistband of your shorts. One of his fingers slides underneath from behind to trace the sensitive skin there teasingly. 

His warm breath fans against you, a smug smirk on his face that you can’t see but can definitely sense. “I can tell you’re wet for me, love.” 

Heat instantly floods your cheeks, embarrassment crawling up your spine. “Shua…”

“Dirty girl,” he says with a low chuckle, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Getting turned on by me marking up your back, hm?”

You bite at your bottom lip hard in embarrassment, both mortified and aroused at the same time. The bastard knows you too well. 

“I can’t help it,” You mumble shyly, refusing to look at him. “It feels good… especially with your hands on me.” 

Joshua gives a playful snap to his gloves, causing you to flinch in the seat out of pure anticipation. God, it kills him to see how needy you are for him right now𑁋but he has a job to finish and he’s determined to do so. He’s blessed at being able to keep his patience afloat, most times to tease you more than anything; otherwise, he would have you bent over the chair right now. 

“I still have the lower back to finish,” he reminds you, reluctantly pulling his hand away from you. “Think you can behave long enough for me to do it?” 

You nod your head, even as you grind subtly into the chair for that small ounce of friction. You say yes, but you both know that’s a lie. 

The machine whirs back to life instantly. When the sharp stick of the needle meets the sensitive skin of your lower back, your whole body reacts. The skin there is tender and sensitive after the long hours of being worked over. And the second Joshua drags another line across your lower back, your hips twitch up involuntarily as you fight to stay still. If today is only for the outline, you could only imagine how the shading process would be like. 

“Breathe for me, love,” Joshua coos lightly, pausing for a minute. He flattens a hand to the curve of your waist to hold you down and rub circles on your skin. “Lower back is evil, I know. Just a little more.”

Easy for him to say.

You feel the vibrations of the machine travel straight through your pelvis. Your grip tightens around the leather backrest, breasts pressed flush against the chair as you try to breathe through the stinging fire licking up your spine. 

“So pretty like this,” he praises absentmindedly as he draws out the cherry blossom petals. “Taking it so well for me, sweetheart…”

You can’t tell if the praise makes it better or worse. Worse, probably𑁋it sinks hotter into your skin than the needle does. You’re probably soaked as well. Embarrassingly so, since his hands have been on you the entire time, and the words that come out are in that familiar adoring tone he only uses in the bedroom with you. You’re not sure if what you’re feeling is pain or need anymore. 

Joshua knows it too. His low chuckle vibrates through the quiet room as he continues the final outlines on the cherry blossoms right where the tail curls. 

After what feels like a literal eternity, the machine is finally killed off for the last time, and the room falls into a strange kind of silence with the exception of your ridiculously heavy breathing. The relief is immediate when the needle is away from your burning skin, but the desperate ache between your thighs continues to throb. You near the loud snap of Joshua removing his latex gloves and rolling his stool back to retrieve the aftercare supplies.

Joshua takes his precious time wiping away what remains of the excess ink over your inflamed skin. After everything is pat dry, he applies a final layer of soothing ointment, before slowly rolling on the second skin, pressing it down with careful palms from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve of your lower back. The cool, transparent film material settles protectively over the fresh dragon and cherry blossoms, sealing them in. 

The moment he’s done, you hear him lean back on the stool, just staring at you𑁋and his work𑁋for a long minute. You lift your head to glance at him over your shoulder.

He looks completely wrecked. There’s some exhaustion there obviously, fatigue sitting directly beneath his eyes from all the long hours of concentration. But the heat in his gaze is unmistakable. 

“Are you gonna say something or just stare at me forever?” You ask him with a sly look. 

Joshua blinks as if you pulled him out of a trance. 

“God, come here, love,” he urges, and before you can respond, he’s pulling you by the arms and leading you towards the large mirror in the corner of the room. 

He positions you right in front of the mirror, standing behind you with his hands resting on your hips. The fairy lights cast a warm glow across your skin, almost making the second skin on your back shimmer faintly. 

“Look,” Joshua whispers hotly, spinning you gently so your back is visible in the reflection. “Look at what we made together.”

Your breath catches in your throat when you catch sight of the tattoo for the very first time. The dragon coils elegantly down your spine as if it had always belonged there. Cherry blossom branches and petals drift along its body like they’re caught in a permanent spring breeze. The head rests between your shoulder blades while the tail disappears low near the waistband of your shorts. It looks almost alive. 

“Shua…” You breathe, unable to find the proper words from how stunned you are as you peer back up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

Joshua nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling you in, before tilting his head slightly so that his mouth barely grazes your neck. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, gliding his hands up your sides, stopping short of your breasts. “It’s more than beautiful, love. It’s perfect on you.” 

A kiss to your neck severs any kind of response you could say, stealing the words right off your tongue and replacing it with a soft, trembling breath. Joshua smiles against your skin, pulling more shaky sighs out of you as he kisses his way down to your collarbone. 

When he pulls away, your eyes lock together. In the small space between your bodies, you can feel the hours of lingering tension, pain, pride, and need. Joshua’s gaze is dark, full of love and unbridled hunger. You only have to flick your attention down to his lips once before he’s on you. 

Joshua’s mouth crashes onto yours, fueled by the desperation that’s been simmering for the past few hours. His tongue slides against yours like he’s trying to taste every sound of discomfort and pleasure that left you. You moan softly into his mouth as your hands tangle up in his dark hair, his arms sliding around you to pull you closer but ensuring to not put any pressure on your freshly tattooed back. You can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. 

“Careful, beautiful,” he breathes against your lips, even as he walks you backward until the backs of your knees collide with the client chair. “It’s still fresh. I’m not ruining my best work because I can’t keep my hands off you.” 

But the way he’s kissing you says otherwise. And the way his fingers wander underneath your shorts to cup your clothed pussy says otherwise, too. 

“I need you, Shua,” You mutter breathlessly, hands sliding underneath his sleeveless top as you feel his fingers glide through your soaked folds. “Please… want you inside me.”

Joshua groans at your pleads, exhaling harshly through his nose.

“God, how can I ever deny you?” he rasps darkly, guiding you around so that your chest is braced up against the side of the chair. “Keep that pretty back arched for me, baby.” 

You obey instantly, folding forward and resting your forearms on the seat. The position leaves you shamelessly exposed for him, your back arching beautifully so that he has the perfect sight of the dragon tattoo from behind.

Joshua’s breath catches. “Fuck, just like that…”

You hear the rustle of fabric as he finally pushes his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. Then you feel him drag down your lounge shorts in one smooth motion, letting them pool at your ankles. He steps up behind you, one hand smoothing up the back of your thigh while the other kneads at the soft flesh of your hip, thumb brushing just beneath the edge of the second skin. 

He leans in to plant open-mouthed over the untouched skin of your back, his hardened cock nudging teasingly at your entrance. The heat of his breath ghosts across your spine as he drags his lips slowly upward.

“Still okay?” he whispers, voice rough yet still tainted with that familiar tenderness that makes your chest ache. “Tell me if anything hurts, love.”

You subtly grind yourself back against him, aching for more. He grips your hips even more tightly at the contact.

“I’m okay,” You reassure him, voice trembling with need. “Want all of you, Shua… please.”

Joshua presses one more lingering, grateful kiss to the centre of your upper back right beside the dragon’s head as if to silently say thank you, before slowly pushing the thick head of his cock inside your soaked entrance. The two of you moan softly at the familiarity of your bodies joining together. His bare chest leans protectively over your body, close enough that you feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back. 

He slowly enters you inch by inch, letting you feel every ridge and vein inside until his hips are flush against your ass. A shared, breathy moans from the two of you travels through the quiet apartment. He stays still for a long moment, just to savour the feeling of being perfectly connected with you and to let you adjust. One of his arms wraps gently around your waist to rest a warm palm over your stomach as he continues to worship attention to every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth. 

Then he starts to move𑁋unhurried deep thrusts that drags his cock alongside your sensitive walls. His hand on your stomach lowers until they’re between your legs, fingers seeking your clit and running through your wetness to bring that added pleasure. You push back against him, desperate for more, but he keeps the pace torturously steady.

“Take it easy, sweetheart,” Joshua murmurs against the shell of your ear. “Don’t move too much. Let me take care of you.”

His free hand tantalisingly traces the edge of the second skin. The sight of his art on your spine while he fucks you spurs him on even further. With a guttural groan, he starts to pick up the pace, still mindful of your back but unable to hold himself back completely. The wet sounds of your bodies mixes in with your broken whimpers, each thrust sending thrilling flames of pain and pleasure down your body.

You grip the leather chair even tighter, your back arching deeper instinctively. “Shua𑁋right there𑁋fuck𑁋”

Joshua curses under his breath. He angles his hips slightly to kiss that particular spot that makes your vision blur, his fingers moving on your clit even faster.

“That’s it,” he praises thickly in that low, filthy register you love, giving an encouraging squeeze to your ass. “Let me hear you, love. You took my needle so fucking well… and now you’re taking my cock just as pretty. Been thinking about this every single minute I was marking you.” 

His words make you clench tightly around him, drawing a deep groan out of his chest. His hips begin to snap harder into you, causing your head to helplessly fall onto the cool leather of the chair as he continues fucking you from behind. Every thrust sends your breasts crushing harder into the chair, nipples aching from the friction. 

You’re so embarrassingly close already from the hours of teasing, the needle’s sting, and his cock driving in and out of you at a relentless rhythm. 

“My perfect canvas… my masterpiece…” he murmurs possessively against your skin, sending another rush of heat through you. “All mine to mark, to worship, and fuck.” 

When your legs start to shake, Joshua notices it immediately, responding by rubbing more tighter circles on your clit, exactly how you like it. His own rhythm starts to falter as he feels himself nearing the edge as well, but he doesn’t dare slow down. He wants𑁋no, craves𑁋to see you fall apart while his art is still fresh on your back. 

“Shua𑁋shit𑁋I’m close, so close𑁋” You pant hoarsely, feeling the coil in your stomach wind tighter and tighter. 

“Yeah?” he asks, teeth grazing over your shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby. You’re squeezing me so good𑁋come on, sweetheart𑁋”

That’s all it takes.

Your orgasm crashes into your hard, a broken sob of his name tearing out of your throat as your walls pulse around him. The pleasure and fiery pain ripping through your body only heightens your release even stronger. Joshua’s hips stutter against you, his fingers working through you to draw every last sigh until you’re sensitive and gasping. 

When the last hints of your orgasm fades, he finally lets himself go as well, burying himself deep inside of you with a short-winded grunt. His forehead drops onto the slick skin of your shoulder, his chest rising and falling heavily against you. 

Neither of you move for a while, only listening to one another’s ragged breathing as you both come down from your intense releases together. Joshua reaches down to intertwine his hand with yours that’s been gripping the chair so tautly. 

“You okay?” he asks breathlessly while caressing a tender finger over your hip bone with his free hand. “Does anything hurt?”

You let out a shaky, yet contented chuckle. “Everything burns a little, but… it’s good. Really good.” You give a reassuring squeeze to his hand. “Mmmh… you’re insatiable.”

Joshua hums in relief. “You’re the insatiable one, my love. Have you seen yourself? And we still have to do the shading𑁋how am I supposed to hold myself back for that?”

Your cheeks flare up at his words, causing you to smack him playfully on the rear, but he retaliates with a tender kiss to the side of your neck. Then he cautiously pulls out of you, the two of you hissing at the sensitivity. He helps you straighten up before spinning you around to give you a proper kiss on the lips, bringing that shy giggle out of you that he adores so much when he draws back.

He angles your body slightly to check the second skin on your back, making sure it’s secure.

“Everything looks good,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s going to heal so beautifully on you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You grin up at him with hazy eyes. “I know you will.”

As he helps you back into your shirt and puts on his own clothes, he leads you to your shared bedroom. Now that the healing process has started, he knows he can’t wait to see how it’ll look entirely completed in its beauty𑁋when he can run his fingertips over it without worry, and maybe, just maybe, when he can pin you down into the sheets and worship his work on you once again. 

Because you still have to get through the shading sessions.

And he plans to make each one unforgettable.

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All of your current tattoos are from him too. Tiny constellations scattered along your ribs. The moth beneath your collarbone that he freehanded at three in the morning because neither of you could sleep. A koi fish running down the curve of your hip. Every single piece carries his fingerprints in it somewhere.

The fairy lights hung around the room have been dimmed low, the coffee table pushed aside, and his client chair unfolded in the open space near the big window. Soft rain taps against the glass from the outside, and some calm lo-fi music plays throughout the apartment to set the mood and calm your nerves, even if you’ve planned this for a while𑁋Joshua had sacrificed hours upon hours to bring your idea to life. You can’t back away from this now. 

The idea is a long, elegant spine tattoo: a powerful dragon that coils gracefully down your back with its body and sharp scales interwoven with delicate cherry blossoms. Strength and softness tangled together, exactly as you had imagined. You remember when you first told him about it and the way his eyes had grown wide, like a mixture of excitement and awe, but also… a subtle pinch of fear.

Because it’s you, and he knows that he can’t afford to screw up, especially with something as permanent as a tattoo. You’re willingly offering a big piece of yourself for him to mark, and that’s a huge weight he’s had to carry while sketching out your concept. There’s no undo button for that kind of trust. 

“I’ve thought about this for a long time, Shua,” You tell him firmly, though there’s that twitch of your nerves to your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no going back now.”

Joshua’s eyes turn fond, taking a step closer to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless black top, the fabric stretching across his chest and showing off the ink drawn over his skin. One of his arms is completely bare of any tattoos, but his other is a beautiful canvas of pieces he’s collected over the years𑁋some intricate fineline, others that are more bold and striking. He even has some dotted over his ribs as well, particularly the Gemini tattoo that you love kissing.

He reaches out instinctively, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your head falls onto his chest naturally, breathing him in, giving him the opportunity to press a kiss to the top of your head. You can feel his steady heartbeat against your cheek, and it helps to lessen your nerves a little.

After all, it’s temporary pain for something permanent on your skin forever. And of course, it’s created by the man you love. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, pulling back to look at you properly. “Let’s get you ready then, love. Can I take this off you?”

His fingers linger underneath your (his) shirt, tracing circles on your back as if he’s drawing it out on you. It sends shivers of anticipation up and down your spine. He’s giving you one last chance to change your mind, but you both already know you won’t.

You tilt your head to look at him back. “Yes. Please.”

You swear you see his eyes darken for a split second at your words. Without another word, he leads you to the mirror perched in the corner, turns your back to him, and peels the oversized shirt off slow enough it almost seems like he’s purposely teasing you. You help by lifting your arms as it slips off you, leaving you bare from the waist up. You’re not even wearing a bra underneath, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

For a second, he just… stares at you in the mirror, lips pursing at the way your nipples tighten in the cool air. Then he drinks in the sight of your bare back𑁋his beautiful untouched canvas𑁋taking in how the dim lighting in the room highlights the line of your spine and the elegant curve of your shoulders. The thought that he’s about to leave something permanent there visibly makes him swallow. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “How am I supposed to concentrate for the next six hours when you look like this?”

“Like what?” You ask amusedly, meeting his heated gaze in the mirror.

“Like a goddess,” he finishes roughly, letting a hand hover near your waist, close but not exactly touching you, as if he’s scared to ruin you with carelessness. “A masterpiece I shouldn’t be allowed to worship.”

Heat blooms through your face at that. You grab his hand that’s lingering over your side, guiding it to where he’s finally touching you properly. His palm is slightly cold at first, but it warms instantly the second he’s touches your skin. His other hand joins in, sliding up your ribs until both palms rest just beneath your breasts, thumbs tenderly brushing the undersides. Then he leans in to kiss a line down from your nape, nipping gently on where your neck meets your shoulder. 

He smiles against your skin when he feels you tremble in his hold.

“I love it when you worship me,” You tell him quietly.

Immediately, you swear you see the way your words make his mind flash𑁋perhaps with images of past intimate nights with your bodies tangled in bed together, his mouth between your thighs for hours, marking his territory on top of his own art. He also imagines how you’d look from behind when he sinks inside𑁋

“On the chair now,” he orders, forcing himself backward. “before I lose my mind.”

With a breathless giggle, you sit down on the client chair, straddling it so that your chest is pinned against the leather backrest. The position leaves your entire back deliciously exposed to him. You hear the sound of gloves being snapped on and the roll of his stool wheeling right next to you. Even though you can’t see him, you still feel the heat of his eyes roaming over you.

The next few minutes are spent cleaning you. Joshua’s gloved hands move slowly as he wipes your entire back down with antiseptic solution, his thumbs applying some reassuring pressure along your spine. You shiver when it hits your skin, and he notices immediately. 

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “Still okay?”

“Mhm,” You breathe, eyes half-closed. “Just… sensitive.”

He hums in understanding, then leans in to place a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

Once your skin is clean, he carefully applies the stencil. He smooths it down your skin inch by inch with both hands from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve just above your ass. You can already imagine every detail of it𑁋the long, coiling scaly body of the dragon, along with the delicate cherry blossom branches that will soften it. 

When the stencil is peeled away, both the room and Joshua take a collective deep breath together. 

The dragon already looks beautifully alive on your skin. Its serpentine body twists down the length of your spine, the tail end just above the waistband of your lounge shorts. Cherry blossom petals and branches burst along its scales, a few petals seemingly drifting free like a small breeze across your skin. The lines are fine, crisp, perfect. Even Joshua himself seems completely speechless of the linework that he created. 

There’s really nobody else that you trust more than him to do this. 

“Wow,” he utters out softly, refusing to blink for a few seconds as if he’s scared you’ll vanish. “You look… illegal, baby.”

A choked laugh leaves you, reality settling within your bones that you’re seriously doing this. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He caresses a gloved finger down your back right beside the stencil. “You’re really going to sit through this, huh?”

“You’re really going to make me sit through it.”

“Fair,” he quips with a grin, before exhaling a breath through his nose. “But if it gets too much or becomes too painful, you tell me immediately, okay? We’re only doing the outline for today, then shading later another time.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, wiggling a brow at him. “Bossy.”

“I’m serious,” Joshua says pointedly, yet there’s a layer of softness underneath. “This is your body, love.”

That lands more harder than it should.

Your smile fades and brightens at the same time. “And I trust you with it, Shua. I always have.” 

Joshua pauses from where he’s been squeezing out the black ink into some tiny plastic caps. For a moment, you see the professional artist facade on his face crack and sparkle of love in his eyes. Because after all, he is your boyfriend𑁋the man who kisses your forehead when you’re sick and the one who’s about to carve forever on your skin with hands that’s thoroughly mapped every inch of you. 

He rolls his stool until he’s right in front of you. Without any hesitation, he leans in to steal a slow, deep kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours for a minute. 

“Then let me make this perfect for you, my brave girl,” he whispers assuringly, rolling himself back beside you. The sound of the machine buzzing to life cuts through the rain shower outside and the low tunes of his playlist. “Colour system, alright? I’ll work my way from the top to the bottom.” 

You nod, gripping the top of the client chair a little tighter as the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine fills the room. After getting multiple pieces done already, you find the sound oddly comforting now, especially if it’s with Joshua. 

When the needle touches down at the nape of your neck, your lips tighten together into a thin line and you have to force yourself not to flinch. You feel the vibrations of the machine carry into your skull as Joshua starts to outline the head of the dragon, keeping one hand settled at the small of your back anytime the needle starts dragging to more sensitive flesh. 

Each precise pass sends little sparks of fire down your nerves, some of them curling low in your belly in a way that feels way inappropriate given the situation. As the long minutes drag by, you close your eyes and rest your forehead onto the cool leather backrest. Every so often Joshua lifts the machine to wipe away any excess ink and blood, and to plant soothing kisses beside the fresh ink as if to apologise for the pain and praise you for your strength at the same time. It’s strangely intimate𑁋letting him mark you like this, claim you like this. 

Minutes slowly blur to an hour. The silence is filled mostly with Joshua updating you with the progress so far and checking in on you, the occasional sigh of discomfort from your lips when the needle hits a particularly sensitive spot on your spine, and his playlist now shifting to some smooth jazz (Sade, mostly). By the time the second hour hits, Joshua kills the machine for a short break, which gives you the opportunity to finally stretch from being stuck in the chair for so long.

“The head and neck are done,” he tells you, ditching the gloves and offering you some water. “How are you feeling?”

You extend your arms up to the ceiling, groaning at the sensitivity in your muscles. 

“Stiff,” You admit hoarsely, rolling your shoulders carefully. “Burns like hell near my spine. But… I’m okay. I want to keep going.” 

Joshua watches you with soft, attentive eyes as you take the glass of water from him. The sleeveless top he’s wearing clings to his frame from the warmth of the room. His gaze drifts down your bare torso and the redness of your skin from where the needle had been, lingering on the way your breasts move as you stretch, before flicking back up to your face. 

His sweatpants are beginning to feel uncomfortably tight too, but he tries to ignore the feeling with an audible cough out of his throat. The professionalism is hanging on by a thread at this point. Because you’re still technically his ‘client’, despite the fact that you both sleep in the same bed together every day and he knows your mind and body by heart. 

But you’re also his girlfriend… who is completely topless in front of him. So his thoughts are basically bound to go haywire. 

“Alright, try to relax for me again, baby,” Joshua instructs, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. He leans over you, close enough that the warmth of his body hits your skin, and presses a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you back into position. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that?”

The machine buzzes back to life, and the needle meets your skin once more with that delicious burn, causing an unconscious whimper to tumble out of you. The dragon’s body is thicker towards the middle of your back, but Joshua works his way down with steady and careful strokes, ink blooming beneath your skin like ribbons.

But you can sense the shift in him. 

His breathing grows heavier with every involuntary sound you let out from the pain or how your back arches beautifully when a raw area is drawn over, brows furrowed together as he works in concentration, even if it’s fraying by each minute that passes. 

When he finally reaches the tail-end of the dragon𑁋just above the waistband of your shorts and the swell of your ass𑁋the needle drags across the sensitive skin of your lower back, sending sharp sparks straight down your spine and between your legs. You can’t stop the soft, needy moan that escapes you this time. 

“Colour?” Joshua asks, wiping away the excess ink. 

A shaky breath leaves you, trying to steady yourself even if your body feels like it’s been set ablaze in the best and worst ways. 

“Green… mostly,” You mutter in response. “It’s a lot on the lower back, but I can take it.”

Joshua hums in acknowledgement, offering a reassuring squeeze to your hip. You feel him shift on the stool beside you, his gloved hand roaming down your lower back and stopping just shy of the waistband of your shorts. One of his fingers slides underneath from behind to trace the sensitive skin there teasingly. 

His warm breath fans against you, a smug smirk on his face that you can’t see but can definitely sense. “I can tell you’re wet for me, love.” 

Heat instantly floods your cheeks, embarrassment crawling up your spine. “Shua…”

“Dirty girl,” he says with a low chuckle, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Getting turned on by me marking up your back, hm?”

You bite at your bottom lip hard in embarrassment, both mortified and aroused at the same time. The bastard knows you too well. 

“I can’t help it,” You mumble shyly, refusing to look at him. “It feels good… especially with your hands on me.” 

Joshua gives a playful snap to his gloves, causing you to flinch in the seat out of pure anticipation. God, it kills him to see how needy you are for him right now𑁋but he has a job to finish and he’s determined to do so. He’s blessed at being able to keep his patience afloat, most times to tease you more than anything; otherwise, he would have you bent over the chair right now. 

“I still have the lower back to finish,” he reminds you, reluctantly pulling his hand away from you. “Think you can behave long enough for me to do it?” 

You nod your head, even as you grind subtly into the chair for that small ounce of friction. You say yes, but you both know that’s a lie. 

The machine whirs back to life instantly. When the sharp stick of the needle meets the sensitive skin of your lower back, your whole body reacts. The skin there is tender and sensitive after the long hours of being worked over. And the second Joshua drags another line across your lower back, your hips twitch up involuntarily as you fight to stay still. If today is only for the outline, you could only imagine how the shading process would be like. 

“Breathe for me, love,” Joshua coos lightly, pausing for a minute. He flattens a hand to the curve of your waist to hold you down and rub circles on your skin. “Lower back is evil, I know. Just a little more.”

Easy for him to say.

You feel the vibrations of the machine travel straight through your pelvis. Your grip tightens around the leather backrest, breasts pressed flush against the chair as you try to breathe through the stinging fire licking up your spine. 

“So pretty like this,” he praises absentmindedly as he draws out the cherry blossom petals. “Taking it so well for me, sweetheart…”

You can’t tell if the praise makes it better or worse. Worse, probably𑁋it sinks hotter into your skin than the needle does. You’re probably soaked as well. Embarrassingly so, since his hands have been on you the entire time, and the words that come out are in that familiar adoring tone he only uses in the bedroom with you. You’re not sure if what you’re feeling is pain or need anymore. 

Joshua knows it too. His low chuckle vibrates through the quiet room as he continues the final outlines on the cherry blossoms right where the tail curls. 

After what feels like a literal eternity, the machine is finally killed off for the last time, and the room falls into a strange kind of silence with the exception of your ridiculously heavy breathing. The relief is immediate when the needle is away from your burning skin, but the desperate ache between your thighs continues to throb. You near the loud snap of Joshua removing his latex gloves and rolling his stool back to retrieve the aftercare supplies.

Joshua takes his precious time wiping away what remains of the excess ink over your inflamed skin. After everything is pat dry, he applies a final layer of soothing ointment, before slowly rolling on the second skin, pressing it down with careful palms from the nape of your neck all the way to the curve of your lower back. The cool, transparent film material settles protectively over the fresh dragon and cherry blossoms, sealing them in. 

The moment he’s done, you hear him lean back on the stool, just staring at you𑁋and his work𑁋for a long minute. You lift your head to glance at him over your shoulder.

He looks completely wrecked. There’s some exhaustion there obviously, fatigue sitting directly beneath his eyes from all the long hours of concentration. But the heat in his gaze is unmistakable. 

“Are you gonna say something or just stare at me forever?” You ask him with a sly look. 

Joshua blinks as if you pulled him out of a trance. 

“God, come here, love,” he urges, and before you can respond, he’s pulling you by the arms and leading you towards the large mirror in the corner of the room. 

He positions you right in front of the mirror, standing behind you with his hands resting on your hips. The fairy lights cast a warm glow across your skin, almost making the second skin on your back shimmer faintly. 

“Look,” Joshua whispers hotly, spinning you gently so your back is visible in the reflection. “Look at what we made together.”

Your breath catches in your throat when you catch sight of the tattoo for the very first time. The dragon coils elegantly down your spine as if it had always belonged there. Cherry blossom branches and petals drift along its body like they’re caught in a permanent spring breeze. The head rests between your shoulder blades while the tail disappears low near the waistband of your shorts. It looks almost alive. 

“Shua…” You breathe, unable to find the proper words from how stunned you are as you peer back up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

Joshua nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling you in, before tilting his head slightly so that his mouth barely grazes your neck. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, gliding his hands up your sides, stopping short of your breasts. “It’s more than beautiful, love. It’s perfect on you.” 

A kiss to your neck severs any kind of response you could say, stealing the words right off your tongue and replacing it with a soft, trembling breath. Joshua smiles against your skin, pulling more shaky sighs out of you as he kisses his way down to your collarbone. 

When he pulls away, your eyes lock together. In the small space between your bodies, you can feel the hours of lingering tension, pain, pride, and need. Joshua’s gaze is dark, full of love and unbridled hunger. You only have to flick your attention down to his lips once before he’s on you. 

Joshua’s mouth crashes onto yours, fueled by the desperation that’s been simmering for the past few hours. His tongue slides against yours like he’s trying to taste every sound of discomfort and pleasure that left you. You moan softly into his mouth as your hands tangle up in his dark hair, his arms sliding around you to pull you closer but ensuring to not put any pressure on your freshly tattooed back. You can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. 

“Careful, beautiful,” he breathes against your lips, even as he walks you backward until the backs of your knees collide with the client chair. “It’s still fresh. I’m not ruining my best work because I can’t keep my hands off you.” 

But the way he’s kissing you says otherwise. And the way his fingers wander underneath your shorts to cup your clothed pussy says otherwise, too. 

“I need you, Shua,” You mutter breathlessly, hands sliding underneath his sleeveless top as you feel his fingers glide through your soaked folds. “Please… want you inside me.”

Joshua groans at your pleads, exhaling harshly through his nose.

“God, how can I ever deny you?” he rasps darkly, guiding you around so that your chest is braced up against the side of the chair. “Keep that pretty back arched for me, baby.” 

You obey instantly, folding forward and resting your forearms on the seat. The position leaves you shamelessly exposed for him, your back arching beautifully so that he has the perfect sight of the dragon tattoo from behind.

Joshua’s breath catches. “Fuck, just like that…”

You hear the rustle of fabric as he finally pushes his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. Then you feel him drag down your lounge shorts in one smooth motion, letting them pool at your ankles. He steps up behind you, one hand smoothing up the back of your thigh while the other kneads at the soft flesh of your hip, thumb brushing just beneath the edge of the second skin. 

He leans in to plant open-mouthed over the untouched skin of your back, his hardened cock nudging teasingly at your entrance. The heat of his breath ghosts across your spine as he drags his lips slowly upward.

“Still okay?” he whispers, voice rough yet still tainted with that familiar tenderness that makes your chest ache. “Tell me if anything hurts, love.”

You subtly grind yourself back against him, aching for more. He grips your hips even more tightly at the contact.

“I’m okay,” You reassure him, voice trembling with need. “Want all of you, Shua… please.”

Joshua presses one more lingering, grateful kiss to the centre of your upper back right beside the dragon’s head as if to silently say thank you, before slowly pushing the thick head of his cock inside your soaked entrance. The two of you moan softly at the familiarity of your bodies joining together. His bare chest leans protectively over your body, close enough that you feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back. 

He slowly enters you inch by inch, letting you feel every ridge and vein inside until his hips are flush against your ass. A shared, breathy moans from the two of you travels through the quiet apartment. He stays still for a long moment, just to savour the feeling of being perfectly connected with you and to let you adjust. One of his arms wraps gently around your waist to rest a warm palm over your stomach as he continues to worship attention to every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth. 

Then he starts to move𑁋unhurried deep thrusts that drags his cock alongside your sensitive walls. His hand on your stomach lowers until they’re between your legs, fingers seeking your clit and running through your wetness to bring that added pleasure. You push back against him, desperate for more, but he keeps the pace torturously steady.

“Take it easy, sweetheart,” Joshua murmurs against the shell of your ear. “Don’t move too much. Let me take care of you.”

His free hand tantalisingly traces the edge of the second skin. The sight of his art on your spine while he fucks you spurs him on even further. With a guttural groan, he starts to pick up the pace, still mindful of your back but unable to hold himself back completely. The wet sounds of your bodies mixes in with your broken whimpers, each thrust sending thrilling flames of pain and pleasure down your body.

You grip the leather chair even tighter, your back arching deeper instinctively. “Shua𑁋right there𑁋fuck𑁋”

Joshua curses under his breath. He angles his hips slightly to kiss that particular spot that makes your vision blur, his fingers moving on your clit even faster.

“That’s it,” he praises thickly in that low, filthy register you love, giving an encouraging squeeze to your ass. “Let me hear you, love. You took my needle so fucking well… and now you’re taking my cock just as pretty. Been thinking about this every single minute I was marking you.” 

His words make you clench tightly around him, drawing a deep groan out of his chest. His hips begin to snap harder into you, causing your head to helplessly fall onto the cool leather of the chair as he continues fucking you from behind. Every thrust sends your breasts crushing harder into the chair, nipples aching from the friction. 

You’re so embarrassingly close already from the hours of teasing, the needle’s sting, and his cock driving in and out of you at a relentless rhythm. 

“My perfect canvas… my masterpiece…” he murmurs possessively against your skin, sending another rush of heat through you. “All mine to mark, to worship, and fuck.” 

When your legs start to shake, Joshua notices it immediately, responding by rubbing more tighter circles on your clit, exactly how you like it. His own rhythm starts to falter as he feels himself nearing the edge as well, but he doesn’t dare slow down. He wants𑁋no, craves𑁋to see you fall apart while his art is still fresh on your back. 

“Shua𑁋shit𑁋I’m close, so close𑁋” You pant hoarsely, feeling the coil in your stomach wind tighter and tighter. 

“Yeah?” he asks, teeth grazing over your shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby. You’re squeezing me so good𑁋come on, sweetheart𑁋”

That’s all it takes.

Your orgasm crashes into your hard, a broken sob of his name tearing out of your throat as your walls pulse around him. The pleasure and fiery pain ripping through your body only heightens your release even stronger. Joshua’s hips stutter against you, his fingers working through you to draw every last sigh until you’re sensitive and gasping. 

When the last hints of your orgasm fades, he finally lets himself go as well, burying himself deep inside of you with a short-winded grunt. His forehead drops onto the slick skin of your shoulder, his chest rising and falling heavily against you. 

Neither of you move for a while, only listening to one another’s ragged breathing as you both come down from your intense releases together. Joshua reaches down to intertwine his hand with yours that’s been gripping the chair so tautly. 

“You okay?” he asks breathlessly while caressing a tender finger over your hip bone with his free hand. “Does anything hurt?”

You let out a shaky, yet contented chuckle. “Everything burns a little, but… it’s good. Really good.” You give a reassuring squeeze to his hand. “Mmmh… you’re insatiable.”

Joshua hums in relief. “You’re the insatiable one, my love. Have you seen yourself? And we still have to do the shading𑁋how am I supposed to hold myself back for that?”

Your cheeks flare up at his words, causing you to smack him playfully on the rear, but he retaliates with a tender kiss to the side of your neck. Then he cautiously pulls out of you, the two of you hissing at the sensitivity. He helps you straighten up before spinning you around to give you a proper kiss on the lips, bringing that shy giggle out of you that he adores so much when he draws back.

He angles your body slightly to check the second skin on your back, making sure it’s secure.

“Everything looks good,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s going to heal so beautifully on you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You grin up at him with hazy eyes. “I know you will.”

As he helps you back into your shirt and puts on his own clothes, he leads you to your shared bedroom. Now that the healing process has started, he knows he can’t wait to see how it’ll look entirely completed in its beauty𑁋when he can run his fingertips over it without worry, and maybe, just maybe, when he can pin you down into the sheets and worship his work on you once again. 

Because you still have to get through the shading sessions.

And he plans to make each one unforgettable.

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