God I Love The Tattoo Artist Trope - Tumblr Posts

tattoo artist!bakugou

inspired by @heartofjasmina’s tattoo artist!bkg hc. 🧡

18+ content, mdni. you will be blocked.

tattoo artist!bakugou seeing you walk into his shop for the first time not thinking much of you when you say you’d like to schedule a consultation with him because you like the work he’s put online. you’re suddenly questioning your decision because this man can’t be much older than you and he looks like a fucking model hiding out in a tattoo parlor, not an established artist with at least ten years under his belt.

tattoo artist!bakugou being thankful you’re separated by a counter when you show him pieces similar to what you’re thinking of: a bold but classy floral tattoo that starts at your hip and wraps over the majority of one ass cheek, curling its way up the lower back just slightly. he knows how to remain professional because it’s his job, but he can see how hard you’re blushing and his thoughts are racing. your mind is more distracted than it should be by his huge, strong hands and a gruff voice that sunk into your bones.

tattoo artist!bakugou knowing the moment the consult started that he should hand this one off to the bubbly, pink-haired artist who’d knock it out of the park just as easily as he could; he’d rather spank and grope and eat your ass than tattoo it, and he didn’t want to risk looking like a fucking tool with his dick hard while trying to lay ink into your soft, pretty skin. but fuck, you were just too damn cute, probably already soaking your panties because of him if the flush on your cheeks was any indication.

tattoo artist!bakugou trying to ignore the ever so slight way your ass pushed into his hands when he applied the stencil before you both checked the final placement for any last adjustments, but he definitely noticed. at least he could get away with staring a little bit without looking like a creep.

tattoo artist!bakugou being smart enough to put up a few partitions to give you some privacy, but stupid enough not to block off the whole shop on the books. on a fucking saturday no less, the busiest day of the week. seeing you laid in front of him in a pretty, pastel thong he wanted to rip right off your body, circumstances be damned, had him swallowing hard.

tattoo artist!bakugou, whose hands are massive and hot against your skin as he works. you’re (shamefully) already clenching and fluttering around nothing but your own arousal before he’s even finished the outline. you breathe deeply to will yourself to relax in an attempt to make it stop. (it doesn’t.) because there’s no way he doesn’t know and isn’t put off by it.

tattoo artist!bakugou, who can just barely feel you clenching under his hand as you shift more often than you should. he’s irritated that there’s a swelling ache in his groin every time, but relieved that you’re faced the other way, unable to see what’s impossible for him to hide. “quit yer fuckin’ squirmin’,” he mumbles, “‘m tryna work, here.” he’s wondering how red your face just got from him calling out your subtle movements, a smirk touching his lips.

tattoo artist!bakugou, who can see your body go rigid before your breathing slows as you try to calm your body again, and eventually it does. “‘s a good girl. just relax for me,” he says, the words slipping out like butter before he stops to think. his stomach drops because he’s a horny fucking idiot and now he’s trying to stay calm, hoping you won’t think anything of it.

tattoo artist!bakugou, who knows you must have felt something because can fucking see the wet spot on the pathetic piece of fabric you’d call panties. he can smell the scent of your arousal and fuck does he want to bury his face inside you and inhale it. “atta girl, you’re almost done.” your body is hot and aching and you’d swear if he says anything else like that, you be might too weak to stand once he’s finished.

tattoo artist!bakugou rubbing antibiotic ointment into your skin after the final pass as you swallow a groan. he hands you a mirror to see his impeccable work and you thank him. he’s wrapping the tattoo and taking off his gloves as he calmly goes over aftercare instructions when hot fingers trail across your thigh, closer and closer to your cunt.

tattoo artist!bakugou, who’s leaning into your ear, whispering, “you been thinkin’ about me this whole time, haven’t ya, sweetie? be a good girl n tell me the truth.” your face is burning with shame but of course you whisper, “yes,” your legs opening even though you know they shouldn’t.

tattoo artist!bakugou telling you to, “look at what you fuckin’ did t’me,” as he gently teases your clit, holding back a groan of his own with the soaked fabric of your thong at his thick fingertips.

tattoo artist!bakugou rubbing your eager cunt as you push into him, his other hand clamped tightly over your mouth. “maybe i’ll let ya cum for me if you’re good. better not hear a fuckin’ peep outta ya ’nless you want everyone t’know what kinda girl you really are.”

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