#Timy Tats | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roronoaswifey · 2 years ago

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hi could we get some tattoo artist!law nsfw headcanons?? i saw timi’s art work for him and i’ve just got the feeling you’d write him so amazingly!

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓!𝐋𝐀𝐖

pairing. trafalgar law x black!fem!reader

warnings/tags. explicit content, foul language, substance consumption, reader has dermal piercings + other tattoos, pussy eating, cunningulus, overstimulation, implied breeding *not encouraging….maybe*, trafalgar law can’t handle pussy, what else is new

kazu’s note. timi’s work if you haven’t seen it yet 🌚

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓!𝐋𝐀𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐎…

never expected somebody like yourself to be in any way connected to luffy. when the younger boy had messaged law a simple “client on the way! :D”, the tattoo artist had expected the worst of the worst. anybody affiliated to luffy gave him an irritating throb in his temple, and even if he wanted to refuse their requests, his morals as an artist never allowed him. so when the sound of chiming from the front door echoed in the shop, he bit back a groan as he mentally prepared himself for the blunt he’d desperately need afterwards.

for the first time in a cool minute, felt his tongue heavy in his throat at the sight of you. pushing past the door, you stepped inside the shop, curvy body snug in a low rise cargo miniskirt and bikini top, your inked skin shining through the golden rays of the sunset behind you. you looked majestic, knotless braids freshly done and with one push of your hair behind your shoulder, law felt his gut pool with arousal.

is taken aback by your sparky personality. you’re not as reckless or loud and smitten as the rest of luffy’s friends, but instead sport a very bored look. your rest in bitch face oddly sets him at ease, giving him sense of security that he may not indeed need to smoke to settle his nerves (though nothing beats a blunt after a long day of work). “you law?” you greet him after a small ‘hey’ and he nods and pats the lengthy chair, not trusting his unsteady vocal chords as all that runs through his mind is how can you be this pretty?

who takes admittedly longer than required to prep your soft skin for the tattoo. you’d shown him a design of words in arabic that you wanted tatted on your spine, and though he wasn’t the most religious person, law simultaneously thanked yet cursed god that he wouldn’t be facing you because it’s one thing to rejoice that you’d be missing the soft pink blush resting at his cheeks at your very revealing outfit, but it’s another having your plump ass peaking right through the miniskirt. maybe the blunt would be needed after all, he thinks as he cleanses your skin and shaves off body hairs to smoothen the process.

can’t help but grin when you ask him to take a hit of his blunt. he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about an artist smoking during his work hours but when you tilted your head at the sound of his lighter sparking up the blunt, a familiar earthy scent filling your senses, the blunt quickly left his mouth in favour of yours. he watched in a mix of awe and confusion as you inhaled deeply, ghosted the cloud of smoke before puffing it out. “‘for the nerves,” was your excuse, placing the spliff back in his parted lips, and laying back on your chest. law nearly felt himself choke on the smoke at the recoil of your ass beneath your thin bottom, slacks growing suspiciously tight as he mentally cursed his own body for the betrayal. lack of pussy, he figured he could blame it on.

with the course of time, alters between sharing his blunt with you. whenever he finds he could use a hit, you stretch your arm back to pass it back to him, and whenever he’s deemed relax, passes it back to you. small talk grows rapidly, as he does his best to keep it as professional as he can (though the smoking contradicts his point) while attempting to keep you entertained. he isn’t confident he’s doing a good job, but you are luffy’s friend after all, so he isn’t surprised you can hold up his lame attempt at conversing.

who isn’t sure if he’s finally gone mad, or maybe just really fucking high, but his almost positive you keep purposely pushing your ass onto him. he’s finished the design, intentionally making sure to not injure or infect the dermals on the dimples of your lower back, but good heavenly lord, your miniskirt rose up the curves of your ass along the inking process and with the weed infiltrating his system, he’s so fucking horny, wanting nothing more than to lay you down and beat the shit out of your pussy— to which, if were a perverted shit, one good lean back in his seat and the outline of your flesh through your thong would be clear as day.

whose suspicions are finally answered the second he vocally announces he’s finished his job. with wrap surrounding your fresh tattoo, his hands linger a bit longer, relishing in the last bit of an opportunity he’d have to hold you before letting you go for good. to his surprise, you stretch an arm out behind you, tilting your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him through your lash extensions and reddened low-lidded eyes, whispers of pleads for him to touch you a little lower.

doesn’t want to push his luck, so he gulps and lets his calloused thumbs caress your smooth brown skin, trailing from the back of your thighs, shaping at any old ink carved in, at any stretch mark that shaped your body, the the crease beneath the cup of your ass that caused the shelf it did. he’s so tempted to push your miniskirt up and watch what he’d imagine of your glistening pussy through your flimsy thong, the fat flesh poking through the material. the thought alone has him biting back a groan, holding these urges back for his sanity and yours. though, clearly you couldn’t give a fuck less about anyone’s sanity, as you intentionally raise your hips during the trailing of his thumb on your skin, forcing his thumb to slip in the warm crevice between your thighs.

finally lets go and swiftly creases your skirt up to your hips. the recoil of your ass set from the intense impact has him groaning, guts swarming in hot arousal, and not even his wildest dreams would’ve prepared him for the sight of your fat cunt. the pad of your panties drenched in your slick, he sees your pussy clenching at nothing, he hears you moaning softly with a sweet arch to your back, and he wants to feel more of you.

relishes in your pretty moans as you fist and clench at anything within the vicinity of your hands. with your thong lowered to the back of your knees, his mouth latched at your lower lips and licked, sucked, tugged, nibbled with precision, so long as he kept hearing you whine and moan, pushing your cheeks back into his face. he’s probably running short on oxygen, nose stuffed in the crack of your ass but he figures he could die a happy man this way. you taste as good as you smell, possibly even better, that he can’t help the slip of fingers E and A in your cunt, simultaneously working his tongue at your folds while fucking into you with long and thick digits, scissoring you open in hopes to find that gummy spot that’ll have you spraying him in your essence.

who drinks you up quicker than you can finish moaning ‘oh fuck baby’ and wastes no time to fumble with his pants. he’s not sure how he managed to not cum in his briefs at the sight of you alone, but the sheer realization that his bottoms were still on made the possibility likely to happen. he finds himself before you, avoiding to have you do any unnecessary movement, as he pumps his brick hard dick in his tattooed hands, and watches your tired eyes shimmer at the sight of his drooling dick alone.

who groans pathetically at the first slip of his tip in between your plump lips, the warm wetness of your mouth sucking him in for what he’s worth as your tongue swirls around the salty skin of his dick. his hips push in and out your mouth slowly, wanting to ease into this naturally before fucking your mouth senseless, but gods with the way you keep humming around his tip, an guided hand pumping what you couldn’t reach for measure, with a pool of saliva gathering at the base of his cock and beneath your vice claw grip on his dick, he’s holding onto a thin thread of sanity, torn between wanting to respect you and let you take your time or rutting his hips and shoving his tip down the back of your throat, making use of you as he finishes himself off in your mouth. it isn’t long before he’s got a hand at the back of your neck, and the sinful sound of you attempting to keep up with his rapid thrusts in your mouth, the squelches of your plump lips and saliva on his lubed dick echoing in the room, that he releases a guttural moan with a head thrown back, painting your mouth white with him. he taps his dick onto your tongue for good measures, assuring you swallowed every last drop.

whose dick hardens painfully quick as soon as he feels you reaching for the base of his dick, and lining it at your sopping entrance. chest laid flat on the chair with your ass in the air, he eases the process by swiftly pushing his hips into your ass, dick slowly getting engulfed by your tight pussy and not even brent faiyaz’s vocals could outmatch the harmony in both your ranges of moans. your hand left his dick the second he bottomed out, in favour of holding at his hips, pushing and pulling him back in, clearly eager for this as badly as he was. though through gritted teeth, he breathed deeply and intensely as he pulled back out, your pussy lips latching at his tip so desperately, before he slams back down, your body jerking from the forceful impact and you whine, pushing your hips back into him for a better feel. the sex gradually quickens, his tattooed arms caging your head at the sides, fucking you like it’s his last resort for air, hips angling to the side as he pounds into your pussy. your ass jiggles like jello against him, mouth muffled by his thigh fingers as you lay down and take whatever the hell he gives you. your eyes roll back uncontrollably at a certain shift of his hips, and law decides he wants to see you do that again, so he relentlessly ruts into that spot that had you blacking out.

who turns you on your side, still weary about your back but is on the brink of losing it if he holds back any longer, lifts a leg up onto his shoulder, and starts to pound into you with a new angle. this position has him seeing stars, already feeling pussy drunk as your wetness engulfs him whole, sucks him in greedily. you’re not better, laid flat as your boobs move in clockwise rotations from the slamming of his hips into your ass. he’s got a tight grip on your plush thigh, his other hand thumbing at your neglected clit, flicking and playing with the nub in hopes of drawing you in closer to the orgasm he feels himself approach. the leg he holds soon begins to shake, and he knows you’re getting close, your jaw slack and babbles spilling past your lips, the most he’s heard you speak in this entire session. he’s tempted to lean forward and finally catch your lips on his, the one thing he hasn’t managed to do so far, but his mind is soon clouded with other thoughts, such as making sure you get to that desired high around the same time he does. and you both do, your back arching as you clamp impossibly tighter down his cock, milking him dry of every seed left in his heavy balls, shooting his loads in your cunt, spraying your walls in his essence, while you spray his balls and thighs in your sweet liquids yet again.

notices the room has gotten quiet after he’s been sated of the lack of pussy he’s practically self diagnosed himself with. you’re on your stomach, body still shuddering from the intense pleasure that hit you like a wave, and law can’t help the tongue that licks your pussy clean, lapping up any evidence left of what you guys had done in this room. your broken moans sound downright pathetic, shaking in overstimulation as law finds himself back on his knees, thumbs spreading your ass cheeks apart and licking into your pussy yet again. he couldn’t help it, you tasted heavenly and he was a greedy bastard. he ignored your pleads, in favour for the hand tugging at his messy locks, your leg thrown over his shoulder as you watched him from the middle of your thighs ravage you like his last meal. his golden eyes never letting go of eye contact with you, his tongue flicked at your clit, spread your folds and feasted on your spent out cunt. didn’t take as much effort this time to be gifted with his favorite drink, as he greedily moans and gulps down everything you give him.

who, after making sure you’ve been decently wiped and hydrated after having fucked you dumb, finds himself feeling hollow despite having the fuck of his life. had it been your previous conversations? or was it when he had you face down and ass up? what was it that suddenly made him realize he did not want you to walk out that door for good? he doesn’t have much time to think as you limp up to the cashier register and await him there. he then realizes you expect him to charge you for the tattoo, as if your pussy wasn’t worth all the riches in this forsaken world. he grunts a low ‘on the house’, betraying yet again another ethical artist moral, but he soon found himself realizing there’s a lot more of rules he’d bend just for you. you look at him with a smirk, almost having expected that answer. you reach in your mini purse regardless, and pull out a 50$, old receipt and pen. you lay flat all objects on the counter, quickly writing something down on the receipt, before pushing it closer near the register. he’s shocked at the hug you give him afterwards, a strong whiff of your previous activities lingering on your scent glands with a mixture of your own fragrance, and he can’t help the soft inhale he does in the crook of your neck, arms tightening around your waist as he holds you back.

who flushed pink in embarrassment when you pull away from the hug just slightly, now face to face as you glossy lips gently kissing his own ones, mumbling a soft ‘see you soon’ with another soft kiss at the corner of his lips, and he barely registers you left the tattoo parlour, the chimes at the door ringing their melody as the soft thrumming of his heart pounds against his chest, throat dry and now glossy lips tugging into a lovesick smile. though he’s slightly irritated that you still left a tip when he insisted it was free of charge, he picks up the receipt you left, eyes scanning over the message you left: ‘tip for a tip ;) call me back whenever, hot stuff, xoxo y/n <3’ and he’s never ran as fast in his life to his phone plugged into the wall, a chuckle rumbling from his chest, feeling uncharacteristically giddy at the thought that you wanted to see him again too.

i love this man so much it’s insane. also this took much longer than expected, my baddd 🦦

#roronoaswifey.exe #kazuha’s works 📂#‘thinking bout’ series #one piece #one piece smut #trafalgar law x black reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law smut #x reader

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