TW: SCRATCHES, 18+
JUST SAYINGGG !!!
it’s his dirtiest, sacred secret; one he’s beyond ashamed of. poor little izuku can’t get it up without feeling a little pain. if he had to play therapist for a minute, izuku would circle his fetish back to his early yuuei days. quirk training was hard—painful. perhaps he’s built up a tolerance for the pain, and has even grown to like it? honestly, he could care less about the logistics of it all. the only thing occupying his dumb mind is the thought of your heel digging into his chest.
izuku decided to bring the idea up one night in bed. you two were getting hot and heavy under the sheets: you sat in his clothed lap, grinding slow and languid as your tongues lapped into each other’s open, warm mouth. the serenity was cut short when izuku squeezed at your hips, retracting back. “wait-wait h-hang on a sec,” izu stuttered, speaking through wet lips. his face was vermillion, throat dry with humiliation. “i wanna try somethin’ tonight.”
you agreed to give into his desires, to rough him up a bit in bed, and the rest was history. he’d spent the rest of the night teaching you how to choke him properly. with you in his lap, izuku guided your hand up to his thick neck. “find my pulse,” he whispered, tilting his head back to give you ample pace. “squeeze there, on the sides of my neck. right under my jaw—there you go, right there.” that night was the first of many thigh-shaking orgasms for izuku.
next time was on the couch. izuku had made a move during movie night, sinking before you onto his knees. the carpet burned against his flesh, but that only elicited a moan of excitement from the boy. in no time, izuku’s head buried itself between your porcelain thighs, eating you out with such vigor, you had been rendered delirious.
then, there was another instruction asked by him. “pull my hair,” he mumbled out against your skin, pleading in between short kisses to the apex of your thigh. “please, pl—pull my hair, y/n. make it hurt.” how could you deny such a delectable request? your fingers weaved through messy, forest locks, yanking his roots with curled fingers. izuku groaned into your pussy, his eyes literally rolling back into his skull. “harder,” he begged, shifting his right hand into his pants, presumably to stroke himself, while the latter stayed gripping onto your thigh as he sheathed his tongue deep into your folds.
even when izuku is feeling more dominant for the evening, he still craves to be tortured by your pretty hands. he had you in missionary after a particularly rough patrol, hips knocking into yours with stern, quick strokes. “hey,” he muttered low, dipping his head down to place his lips against your ear lobe. “why’re you gripping the blanket? my back is right here.”
even through the intense pleasure, you managed to wield your infamous smirk before sinking your fingernails into the taught, smooth expanse of izuku’s muscular back. “fuuuu—” his pace quickens, eyebrows pulled together as he tries to edge himself. “fuck me up, honey. m-make me bleed, please, god… s-shit!” as his cum leaked from between your legs, izuku reveled in the sting of scratches over his upper back.
yeah, izuku liked pain.
: :: ꒰ masterlist.°꒱ ꒰ mailbox.°꒱
“it’s not that bad, baby, can’t we just try again?”
virgin!satoru looks up at you from where his chin rests on your stomach, though you aren’t sure you can call him a virgin anymore. he holds your thighs apart, your sore pussy on sweet display for him. he presses a gentle kiss to your clit, which pulls a moan from you, but you stand strong.
“no way,” you shake your head. “absolutely fucking not. you’re… way too big.”
satoru grins, “thank you!”
“i’m not complimenting you, asshole,” you try and shift away from him, but gojo has your hips pressed into the mattress. “it hurts, toru. it’s too much.”
another kiss to your clit. “but she’s so needy for me,” he whines. “cant you see? so fucking wet… she can take me.”
“i can’t. it won’t fit.”
you didn’t think his pretty baby-blues could darken, but they do. satoru, your sweetheart, nips at your clit—only barely, but enough to make you gasp.
“you will,” he says, voice low. “i’ll make it fit.”
you can’t deny it, his tone only makes you even needier. you write under his grip, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips—he’s appraising you, studying his prey before bouncing. and he’s the virgin.
“oh, and after i fuck you, can we go get sushi?”
you blink at him. “what?”
“you know,” he scoots himself up and taps the head of his aching cock against your clit a few times. “to celebrate making it fit.”
summary: a very nsfw but short one-shot of you and your darling boyfriend, izuku.
warnings: unprotected sex, izuku cursing! :o
masterlist
there’s nowhere else izuku would rather be than squished in between your plush thighs. when you’re squeezing around him and he’ll have to hold them apart. all he can think of is how beautiful you look and how incredible you taste. he knows you feel just as good too, your thighs are beginning to shake and you’re crying out for him loudly.
“fuck, izuku. right there, please!”
he grins mischievously at the thought of you squirming in embarrassment in the morning when he’ll remind you how beautiful and lewd you sounded for him. and it drives him insane that only he can see you, and make you feel like this.
you remember the first time he fucked you. he was so shy and nervous, but he was perfect. izuku only cared about making you feel good and not hurting you. he spent an hour or so strictly on foreplay, wanting to learn what felt good for you on his own. he was so nervous afterwards too, ashamed he had finished just from eating you out and grinding into the mattress.
but now he’s different. your beautifully strong and resilient pro-hero boyfriend, izuku midoriya. the man who single-handedly saved japan and has his name plastered on tabloids everywhere. and, lord, has the hero work payed off well for him… you’re in awe every-time that man takes his damn shirt off. but somehow, amongst all the fame and recognition, he only has eyes for you. he doesn’t want anybody else but his angel y/n.
sometimes he will come home, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. he’ll have been thinking of you ever since hero work ended - more specifically bending you over and fucking you into oblivion. he’ll be so hard already just from the mere thought of your beautiful face and your perfect pussy. you’re always so tight and wet for him, it drives him absolutely insane.
izuku has his fingers pumping in and out of you, hitting the exact spot you wanted over and over. you’re so wet his fast motions make the most lewd squelching sound, but he’s eating it up. he can’t take his eyes off you, and he knows you would shyly push him away if you noticed. but on some days, you’ll lock your eyes with him and it feels so beautifully intimate.
“ah… shit, y/n. you look so pretty.”
“izu, please. please fuck me already,” you’re eyes begin to tear from the pleasure. there it is. you and izuku make direct eye contact as he begins to suck at your clit again, making you cry out. “i need you, izuku. please!”
he can feel your walls tightening around his fingers. as much as izuku knows you’ll be coming soon, he also knows it’ll feel even more incredible on his cock. “how could i not give my pretty baby what they want?”
he’s kissing you slowly again whilst pushing your legs apart, now holding your hips firmly. izuku lets his cock sink into you, letting out a moan into your mouth and tightening his grip on you.
“good, baby?”
you hum in approval, walls already clenching around him desperately. he always gives you a few seconds to adjust, even when you’re squirming impatiently under him like this. it’s almost as if he loves teasing you and hearing you beg for him.
how does izuku managed to keep so much stamina for his demanding job, and keeping you so satisfied? your impatience is long forgotten as he begins to fuck you roughly. his ironclad grip on you keeping you in place so he can fuck into you over and over again, as if he’s just using your pretty cunt to get himself off. but then he gives you the kindest, sweetest dirty talk you could hear because he’s your loving izuku. he’ll tell you how gorgeous you look, how you fit around him so perfectly as if your pussy was made for him. he’ll give you the softest and most amorous kiss while pounding into you recklessly. but he knows you can take it, because you’re his good girl. his angel.
“my baby. i love you so much, y/n,” izuku says, eyes never leaving yours. “you’re perfect, every part of you.”
and that’s how you truly feel. you feel so loved and taken care of. especially when he’s coming inches deep into you, crying out your name. then watching his thick cum leak out of you.
my sex drive is out of whack i haven’t done it in like three months so i am shocked i wrote this
“I didn’t shave—“
“I do not…give a fuck. Open your legs.”
You and Bakugo have this argument at least once a month. You only need to wax your little lady once a month after your period , and it’s about that time to do so but you have 2 problems;
Your appointment isn’t until 2 more days, and you have a boyfriend that has been waiting a full week to eat you out.
“‘Suki I told you I hate—-“
“Why do you give a fuck about that? It’s HAIR.”
“I FEEL DIRTY.”
“You just took an everything shower.”
Bakugo NEVER understood the point of shaving your pussy anyway. He genuinely does not care whether there is hair or not on it, and after having an irritating crave to eat your pussy he definitely couldn’t care less.
“It’s a bush.”
“I don’t—- y/n the area I wanna suck—“
“Don’t be a pervert.”
He deadpanned at you, the Blondie also never cared for how blunt he was with his dirty words. Just two weeks ago you and him were eating cereal when he just casually spoke, “When I get home tonight I wanna eat your pussy against the door like I did last night.” As he gets up to clean his bowl.
No emotion
And no care.
He’s a damn savage.
“Your clit don’t have hair on it it’s just the lips.”
“OMY fucking—“
“Please.”
You blink, “what…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Bakugo groans loudly and lays his head on your shoulder. And bites it, “OW!” The main reason why Bakugo haven’t let up is because you and him established a strict safe word rule. He knows he can be pushy with things he wants but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable about it. If you GENUINELY don’t want him to all you have to say is “TNT” and he’ll drop it no questions asked. And never bring it up again.
But here you are, contemplating.
Your thoughts get broken by a soft kiss on your jaw, his scarred warm palms lifting your his shirt , playfully tapping his fingers on your clothed panties, “I heard you playing with yourself in the shower.”
You freeze, feeling his devious smirk against your cheek, his natural scent and musk clouding your mind as he keeps kissing you, rubbing on your body, “You want it as bad as I do. I fucking know you do.”
“Remember last time?”
He had your knees to your ears last time, ass hanging off the edge of the bed as he spit, licked, and sucked all inside and on your pussy. His fluffy hair tickling your inner thighs, his thumbs pressing into your skin so deep you could just barely grind against his mouth. Bakugo was always a nasty ass eater to the point you were embarrassed just watching him.
His ring and middle finger swirling circles on your clit as his tongue filled your aching tight hole, the way he stops for a moment to kiss the soft little nub , nearly making out with it making you roll your eyes because his pillowy wet lips felt soooooo good against you.
You remembered how he’d slap your ass a few times when you looked away for too long or covered your mouth, you swore he’d heat up his hands slightly just to do so.
You remembered how he’d hold your ankles up and he licked stripes against your pussy and his tongue teasing your other hole.
You remembered how he’d swished his head back and fourth while his lips captured your clit and tugged on it. Sending you over the edge while he sucked and groaned. Two fingers pumping inside you.
“You remember, huh.” His raspy voice against your ear, already teasing his fingers inside you panties, “You came so much you passed out right after.”
The more he spoke to distract you the further he got, eventually laying you down on his huge couch, to pulling off your panties, to opening you legs, to kissing each thigh, and down to repeating his exact actions from last time.
And no he did NOT care about the hair.
My little headcanon about Armin is that he likes/doesn’t mind the smell of cigarettes. He finds it somehow familiar and kinda relaxing (?) His mother and his grandfather used to smoke, so he is used to it and wouldn’t mind if you do.
Well, it depends.
He would never like the fact that his partner is a smoker due to the harmful consequences of it. But he also makes it clear that it doesn’t bother him at all; the smoke and the slight scent of tobacco impregnated in your hair or clothes.
Is it bad that he thinks it’s a little sexy??
I need more of this. Literally the BEST I've ever read.
Dear Diary || Sanji Vinsmoke x f!reader || NSFW [minors DNI]
CW: reader wears a skirt, masturbation (m), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink
WC: 3.6k
AO3 Link
It was an accident.
Or at the very least, that’s the story Sanji had hastily prepared as he sat perched on the edge of your bed, your diary held tightly in his grasp.
It was an accident, he’d say if anyone wandered in while he perused its pages—it had fallen on the floor and he was merely trying to find out who it belonged to, that’s why it was splayed open in his hand. Really, you see, it was completely innocent.
Seguir leyendo
I’m going crazy over this…
currently thinking about. . .
satoru who goes absolutely crazy each time you put it back in after it slips out.
cw. female!reader, vaginal sex, tit-sucking, implied creampie, slight dom/sub dynamics (dom!satoru, sub!reader).
the first time it happens is on accident.
he’s too caught up in the way the fat of your ass jiggles with each deep thrust, too mesmerised in the feel of your soft skin between his fingertips as he gives one of your cheeks a firm squeeze. satoru’s lust-riddled brain simply didn’t take note of the way his hips started to move a little too fast, a little too quick.
all he’s able to focus on as he takes you from behind is you, you, you—and certainly not the way his heavy cock suddenly slips out of your slippery cunt. a few drops of pre-cum dribble down the base as he involuntarily pulls out, some of it staining the back of your thighs. there’s not a lot of time to process the fact, as he’s back inside your dripping pussy almost instantly.
your greedy hands reach for him immediately, securely wrapping around his base and slamming your hips back against his once he’s lined up again. there’s not even a chance for him to miss the warmth of your sweet pussy.
you wouldn’t even let him.
satoru is pretty sure he’s going to cum on the spot at the realisation, and has to really, really fight himself not to finish prematurely. a deep groan rumbles from his chest, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head, as he thinks about how quick, how disguistingly eager you were as you scrambled to put him back inside.
as if that slutty hole of yours can’t even go a second without being filled by him.
a string of curse words tumble past his lips, and he fucks you a little harder than usual that night.
since then, satoru’s been subtly letting himself slip out of your cunt each time the two of you have sex. the physical aspect of it isn’t hard; you’re always so incredibly wet, he’s out in a second. mentally, he’s at war with himself—though, seeing you whine and whimper as you hastily reach for his cock again makes those few agonising seconds without your warmth all worth it.
something about the gesture makes you look desperate, impatient, and it’s all for him. and fuck, did it turn him on.
there’s one time where he briefly suspects you’re onto him and his antics, as you insist on riding him. on being in control. it’s not something you do often, though usually he fucking loves it when you do (he still does, admittedly)—but with you on top and holding the reigns, it removes his opportunity to see you scramble to put his fat cock back inside.
but, he’s nothing if not an optimist, so, of course, he’ll make the best of the situation.
with the way they bounce so prettily in front of him as you rock your hips back and forth, he’s almost incapable of not sucking on them. and so, he decides to stifle his previous complaints by taking a mouthful of your tits. there’s always next time, and as he sucks on your breasts and feels you move up-and-down, he completely forgets about his former plans.
riding him was simply one of your whims, it turns out, and the next time the two of you have sex he’s back in his usual spot. and the time after that, and after that, and after that—and as long as he’s there, he’ll keep making you desperetaly stuff his cock back inside.
satoru’s breathing heavily now, the mere thought of it (combined with your walls griping around him like a vice) almost enough to make him dizzy. with your legs over his shoulders and thighs pressed up against your chest, cheeks stained with dried tears and soft, high-pitched moans and hiccups leaving your lips—he can’t help but feel the familiar itch to ruin your fun.
even if it’s just for a little bit.
he does so at once. the mixed release of both you and him from previous rounds leak out of you as he does so, and your pussy twitches around absolutely nothing.
immediately, you frown. it’s small, cute, almost, and then your hands search for his cock again. though, this time, the position he (very purposefully) put you in makes it difficult—satoru fights off a grin as you scrunch your nose in dissatisfaction.
“. . .’toru,” you mumble, and attempt to grab him again. your voice is hoarse, broken from the sweet noises you’ve made for him so far. “wh—what’re you doing?”
“hm?” he hums.
a little smile settles on his lips as he prods your entrance with his tip, smearing the cum—most of it his—along your puffy folds. he toys with your pussy, the squelching sounds as he moves his cock near your cunt (but never quite in it) feeling like absolute music to his ears.
he hears you sniff. “. . .’toru,” you mumble, voice a soft whine. you try moving closer to him, to push yourself down on him, but he simply pushes your thighs harder against your chest. “please, j—just. . .”
satoru fakes a dramatic sigh. “you’re so spoiled,” he comments, and relishes in the way your eyes roll back as he slides back in all at once. “so, incredibly spoiled.” he tuts, starting his thrusts again. he brings his face closer to yours, as if it’d make him hear all your pitiful sounds better. “can’t even go a second without my cock, can you? ‘t slips out for a second, and my pretty girl’s already whining.”
he doesn’t get a proper response out of you, but that’s okay. he doesn’t need to. there’s no sweeter sound than your fucked-out babbles, anyway.
and they often sound even sweeter after he temporarily deprives you of his cock.
satoru smirks as he looks down at you.
no, he’s definitely not stopping this any time soon.
© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.
smut ꒰ agedup! Izuku Midoriya x afab!reader ꒱
Izuku loves the smell of your pussy.
It's a vagina. it doesn't smell like anything else. it smells like pussy, and that's why he likes it.
He already told you that he loves your smell, your expensive perfume all over your skin, or the scent of your fruity shampoo that flows in your hair. But this, this is diferent.
The first time he smelled your pussy it was on his first time fingering you, he wasn't face to face with your cunt, but he already can feel that particular smell
Moisty, fleshy and slightly sweet. That sweet and addictive fragrance of your most intimate place. Your real smell. And it became his guilty pleasure.
Why would he want you to know?! what if you think he is some kind of creepy pervert? (He, indeed, is. A little bit. But he is) It's easy for him to hide it (No it's not. You already noticed)
It's simple. The way he INHALES while he's eating you out, it's normal to get hard by this? hell yeah he's literally MOANING while burrying his nose in your cunt.
But that's okay, right? But God. He definitely feels so guilty about these ones.
He loves to lay in your lap! But you noticed that he gets more nervous about it than before. Yes, at first he was embarrassed about more intimate physical affection, but why now?
Maybe because Izuku can't stop feeling a little bit of your essence through your clothes...
Being so close to your core, It's intoxicating.
What a pervert! he thinks for himself
Sometimes he thoughts about smelling your panties, but immediately smack himself for being a total PERVERT!
Pervert. Pervert. Pervert.
If you find it hot, please give him a pair of your panties! he would deny at first, but insist a little bit and he will fall.
Just imagine the poor boy stroking his dick and silently whining and sniffing into your dirty underwear. He feels like a disgusting pervert.
And he is.
But he can't stop, it's so overwhelming! Your boy is in love with the smell of your pussy! don't blame him, you know you kinda like it.
Thanks for reading <3
—Tommy @candyeyedoll
This is a lovely poem I will keep inside me for the rest of my life 🕊️
☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU
summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.
wc: 3k
cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI
an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.
as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.
and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.
he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.
"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.
"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."
geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."
your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"
he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."
with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.
"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.
his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.
you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.
geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."
“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”
"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."
you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.
with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."
he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."
you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.
with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.
"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop.
geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours.
his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.
"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.
“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.
“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”
“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.
he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised. ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.
as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer.
“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.
“what type of pain?” you retort.
“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.
“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”
geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.
a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."
with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.
he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.
as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.
"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.
you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."
geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."
“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”
“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”
you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art.
“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”
“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”
“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.
“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”
“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.
“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.
“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”
“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know.
he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.
geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you.
he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.
“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”
“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”
“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.
“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”
before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force.
“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”
you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere.
“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.
“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.
with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.
geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”
“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”
“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.”
with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.
your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.
“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”
“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.
“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.
AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS
I’m so ashamed of my English skills, since it’s not my first lenguaje there’s a lot of mistakes in my drabbles. I hope you guys understand 🥹
As a perfectionist hispanic woman I want to do my best, even if it’s just for my nasty tumblr shit
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Most of you probley know but there is another acc called @candyeyedoll, we are NOT the same acc, we are very similar yes but we are not the same, Tommy does not mind just wants to clarify we aren't the same acc.
Have a nice day. ♡