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mayajadewrites · 6 months ago

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tattoo artist suguru geto

✦ synopsis: your usual tattoo artist shoko, had an emergency, so she scheduled you with the mysterious, intimidating shop owner: suguru geto.

✦ content warnings: tattoo artist geto, pierced geto, geto is controlling af and no one can tell me otherwise, unprotected sex, riding, mirror sex, just overall smut.

✦ relationships: suguru geto x fem! reader

✦ comments are always appreciated <3 besitos muahhhhh

ao3

Neon lights reflect on your face as you walk into the tattoo shop, where you're at almost every other week with new ideas.

To your left is a shiny, black motorcycle, presumably belonging to the owner.

Your usual tattoo artist, Shoko Ieiri had a family emergency so she had to reschedule your appointment with the shop owner, Suguru Geto.

You've only seen him a handful of times when you're there, but he's always so stealthy that you just barely notice him. You've never even heard his voice.

His face is on their Instagram though, which you can't lie - you check constantly for new updates from him. He rarely tattoos anyone anymore, only his select few clients and he's always booked out for months.

You open the door to the shop, bells jingling as a sign that someone's entered.

The shop is perfectly clean, rnb music playing in the background at a medium volume.

"Hello?" You walk up to the front desk, pressing your chest against the counter. You opted for a black, tight romper for todays session since you're getting a thigh tattoo. The thickness of your thighs peeking out of the shorts, like they're gasping for air.

Then you hear footsteps.

A tall, muscular man with long black hair emerges from one of the rooms. He has a black tank top on with black jeans - his hair half pulled up. You feel your breath hitch when his eyes meet yours.

"You must be Shoko's client. My name is Suguru Geto." He gathered the papers for you to sign. "Fill these out and let me know when you're done. I'm gonna set up." He turned away from you, but you couldn't help but watch as his back muscles moved when he walked. He has tattoos all over his arms down to his hands, along with a few chest tattoos. You can't see the rest of him, but there's definitely more ink under there.

He has a few ear piercings, one ear has a dangly earring pared with gauges, while the other just has the black gauges and a hoop around the top of his ear.

After you fill out the forms, you set them nicely on the counter. "I'm done." You say quietly, but since there's no one in the shop you're practically yelling.

"Excellent." He emerged again, his lips forming a slight smile. "Shoko sent me your design idea, can I show you what I've done to it?"

"Of course." You follow him into his room. He's so fucking tall. And big. You wonder if he's also big -

"I redrew the dragon that Shoko did, not that it was bad but, I think this suits your thigh a bit better." He showed you the iPad screen with the dragon on it. The tattoo would live on your thigh. It's beautiful, though - a dragon with gold eyes and white scales.

"That's perfect, it's like you're in my head." You smile as you nod. "Yes, let's do that."

"Sit." He instructed, getting out his gloves and the razor. You sat down on the chair, your thigh thighs pooling at the seat.

Something you're very insecure about. Which is why you want to put a tattoo on it.

Geto placed a hand on your thigh, running the razor over your skin gently. You watch him as he watches you, his eyes scanning down your leg. His gloves feel so cold against you but the heat from his fingertips send mixed signals to your brain.

Once he placed the stencil, it was time to start. He sat on his chair, which he rolled over to you and his his head near your thigh. You pressed your palms to the arm rests, bracing yourself for the needle.

"You have all these tattoos, and you're nervous?" Geto looked up at you with a smirk. "No reason to be scared."

"It's not the tattoo that's making me nervous." You turn your head to the side. Why the fuck did you just say that?

Geto presses the needle to your skin, gently drawing the first line. He has one hand on the needle, the other holding onto your meaty thigh.

You stayed quiet for about an hour as he worked, too scared to ask any questions.

"You know I can feel your heartbeat in your leg right now, right?" His chocolate eyes peered up at you. "What's making you so nervous, hm?"

You bit your bottom lip, debating on saying what's actually on your mind.

You.

You, Suguru Geto are the reason.

"You." You let out a sigh as he continues his work. A smirk crept onto his face as he nods, like he was waiting for you to say that.

He was so satisfied with that answer.

Throughout the appointment, he would slowly touch you in different places to test how you're feeling. First, your outer thigh. Then you're inner thigh. Then closer to your aching core. You wonder if he can feel the wetness thats soaking in your cunt.

"I've seen you here a lot." He finally spoke after an hour.

"I've seen you, but you never say hi." You watch as the needle runs over your skin.

"Your Shoko's client, I didn't want to intrude."

"Why, you think you would steal me as a client?" You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Mm, no. I would just have a hard time controlling myself is all."

You raise your eyebrow as you look at him, his eyes still boring into your skin as he tattoos.

Your heart beats even faster now as he gets more comfortable with you. He glides his hand down your thigh to your calf, massaging it gently. "Almost done."

But God, you didn't want this appointment to be over.

________________________________

"What do you think?" He did one last wipe of your new ink. You stand up and look in the mirror, gasping at the beautiful art that is now on your body.

"It's beautiful! Thank you, Suguru." You walk over to him so he can wrap your thigh with the second skin.

He kneeled down as he wrapped your skin. You felt his nose brush against your inner thigh - he's so close to you. You stand completely still as he wraps, but his lips attach to other parts of your skin.

He places a trail of hot kisses down your thigh to the bottom of your leg, his large hands following the trail of his kisses.

You gasp, restraining yourself from burying your hands in his raven hair. Those dangerous brown eyes looked at you once more and you knew you were done for.

"You can touch me, baby." He murmured against your skin as he made his way to your face. His tall, muscular stature covered you as you gazed up at him. "I said, you can touch me." He repeated.

You nod, your manicured hands slowly reaching for his chest. Once you make contact you feel his heartbeat, its just as fast as yours. You drag your hands to his neck, wrapping your arms around him.

His greedy lips find yours in a heated kiss as his hands land on the fat of your ass with a slight 'slap'. Your chest presses into him as you slip your tongue into his mouth, opening your mouth wide as he devours you.

Suguru squeezes your ass roughly, no doubt leaving a hand mark after the next smack.

"You come in here in this outfit when you know I'm tattooing you?" He groans against your mouth. "One piece of clothing that barely covers your curves? Fuck, what did you think was gonna happen?" His lips moved to your neck as he left open mouthed kisses that felt like fire.

You didn't answer, you only pressed your hand to the back of his head to push him into you.

"Answer me." He bit your skin, making you yelp.

"I-I wore it for you." You dug your fingers into his hair. "I wanted to, to get your attention."

"You've had my attention, angel." He purred as his bites turned into kisses. He brings his mouth to your clavicle, kissing your skin softly as looks at you through his thick lashes.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You bring his face to yours, his lips only inches from you. You could practically feel his breath.

"Why do you think Shoko's not here right now?" He smirked as he pressed his plump lips to yours, reaching down yo your ass to squeeze your cheeks again.

"She said she had a-"

"I told her you cancelled so she had the day off."

"You're a menace." You push him backwards slightly onto the chair you were just sitting on. "I've thought about you almost every day since I started coming here." Your hand pushed his shoulder gently so he sits on the seat. "I thought it was like a schoolgirl crush."

"I can say the same for you." He looked up at you, his eyes almost pleading for you. "I wanted you alone, though." He snaked his hands to your hips, lowering you gently onto his lap.

You spread your legs wider as your mouth gravitated to his, your wet clothed core rubbing against his big cock. Your fingers tangled in his long hair, nails dragging down his scalp.

You rock your hips gently back and forth as Suguru smacks your ass, his other hand creeping up the front side of your body.

"You can't wear this shit in here again, got it?" He placed his hand on the front of your neck, squeezing your throat gently.

You nod, to which he kisses your lips once more. This time he's needy. He's craving you, and he will indulge.

"Think you can ride me, baby?" His words vibrate through you as his lips attack yours. You whimper involuntarily thinking about your cunt milking his fat cock.

Suguru grabs your face roughly, squeezing your cheeks with his thumb and index finger. "Answer me."

"Y-Yes." You nod, his hands roaming to your aching core.

"So wet already, were you this wet when I was tattooing you?"

"Yes. God, yes." He rubs gently circles on your clothed cunt, a smirk rising on his face.

"We'll have to do something about that then, hm?" His voice was so smooth as he pushed the straps down on your tight romper, revealing your tits as they gasped for air with the new freedom.

"No bra? You're a dirty slut, aren't you?" His mouth attached to your neck again, making new hickeys over the ones he made just a few minutes ago. He dragged his mouth to your bare tit, landing on your erect nipple. Suguru's mouth covered the nub, sucking gently as his eyes closed.

You threw your head back as he went to work on your tits, going from one to another. You press your palm to the back of his head as he sucks, bites, and licks your sensitive nub.

You feel his hard, diamond cutting cock pressed against your thigh, begging to be touched. Your fingers danced to the button of his jeans, pushing them down gently to reveal his black boxer briefs.

He helped you take off his clothes, along with the rest of your romper. Just a black thong remained on your body.

Suguru's lips kissed down your sternum to your soft stomach, down to the string of your thong. "You gonna ride me, pretty?"

"Yes Suguru." You slid the thong off, your soaking wet cunt pressing against his waist.

Suguru swiveled the chair to face the mirror, your ass on full display as he grabs his throbbing cock, shaking it below you. "I want to watch you ride me. Watch your beautiful pussy milk my cock."

You grab his thick cock, the girth almost too much for your hand. You lined the head with your slit, coating his tip with your arousal. His head leaned back into the chair with the immense pleasure he was already feeling.

You push yourself onto your knees, taking one last look behind you at the mirror as you watch your body push down on his cock. You both let out sinful moans, your gummy walls stretching with his big size.

"Fuck baby." Suguru planted his hands on the fat of your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. Your hands found his neck, wrapping your arms around him into his hair.

You milked his cock as you moved, lewd noises and squelches filling the room. Suguru opened his eyes to look in the mirror, watching the fat of your ass jiggle with your movements.

"This pussy, god damn." He moaned with a slap to your ass. "Milking me till the last drop, hm?"

"Yes baby." You throw your head back as you shake your ass on his cock.

"Your pretty cunt was made for me. You won't be fucking anyone else, got it?" He used his other hand to grab your hair, pulling you gently to look at him. "Answer me."

"Y-Yes Suguru." Your breath is wavering as you grind yourself against him. "O-only yours."

Those words sent Suguru over the edge. His fingers found your thick thighs, squeezing harshly as he approached his high. He started jabbing his cock into you, watching your body bounce in the mirror. His hand found your throbbing clit, massaging it gently in circles. Your pussy clenches around him at his touch.

"It's too much, Sugu - I need to come."

"Come undone on me, baby." He circles your clit with his index and middle finger. "I want to feel your juices all over me."

He looked down as you moved up on his cock, a creamy ring forming at the hilt. He pushed you down on him once more as the coil in your stomach snapped.

"That's it." He whispered in your ear as he fucked his cock into you, your body only twitching from the pleasure that's terrorizing your body. His hands clutched your face as your eyes squeezed shut. "Look at me when you come."

You obeyed, your vision blurry as you open your eyes to his chocolate ones. His mouth is parted slightly as his thrusts become more sloppy with the sight of your orgasm.

"I'm gonna come inside you, cover you with my seed, yeah?"

"Y-yes Suguru. Please fill me up." You whimper as you grind yourself against his cock. "I want to be full of you."

With one last thrust he unloaded everything he had into you. You swear you felt some of his juices seeping onto the chair, leaving a sticky residue. He's panting now but his hands are still planted on your hips.

"What a mess we made." Suguru kissed your lips slowly, the sounds of your mouths dancing together filling your ears.

"Again?"

#suguru geto #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru #tattoo artist suguru geto #tattooed suguru geto #tattooed geto #tattoo artist geto #getou suguru x you #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru x y/n #jujutsu geto #geto x you

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thegatesofsilverandbone · 2 months ago

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Dylan followed his dad into the small hardware store, the familiar jingle of the bell sounding as they entered. It was quiet, with only the hum of the fluorescent lights above. They were just grabbing a few things for their weekend project—a new fence for the backyard—and Dylan was already zoning out as his dad grabbed a cart and started picking out supplies.

After wandering through the aisles for a bit, they headed to the checkout counter. But when they got there, it was empty. No cashier, no employees in sight.

"Guess they’re short-staffed today," his dad muttered, tapping the bell on the counter.

No one appeared.

"I’ll check the back," his dad said, glancing toward the storage area. "Stay here and see if anyone shows up."

Dylan nodded, leaning against the counter as his dad disappeared into the depths of the store. He glanced around, waiting. Still, no sign of anyone. The place felt almost abandoned.

As he stood there, a woman walked up, holding a couple of screws in her hand. “Hey, do you know where the wood filler is?”

Dylan was about to tell her he didn’t work there, but instead, the words that came out were, “Aisle four, just past the paint supplies, near the caulk guns.”

The woman smiled, giving him a quick “thanks!” before heading off.

Dylan blinked. How had he known that?

Before he could think too much about it, an older man approached, holding a small toolbox. “Excuse me, son, what’s the best way to fix a squeaky hinge?”

Again, Dylan felt an answer bubbling up from somewhere inside him. “Graphite powder, or silicone spray if you don’t want to make a mess. Both are in aisle seven, just past the hand tools.”

The man smiled and nodded appreciatively. “I’ll try that, thanks!”

As the man walked away, Dylan suddenly felt strange. His clothes felt tighter, his shirt straining across a broader chest. He looked down and noticed his arms were thicker, more muscular, and dusted with hair. His reflection in the glass door of a nearby display case showed his face aging, his jaw squaring off, a shadow of stubble forming on his chin. He looked at least five years older.

Before he could process what was happening, a couple approached, holding a paint roller. “Any idea what kind of paint works best for the bathroom? We’re trying to avoid mildew.”

Without missing a beat, Dylan replied, “Go for a mildew-resistant paint. Satin or semi-gloss finishes are best. You’ll find what you need in aisle two, with the specialty paints.”

As they thanked him and walked away, Dylan felt the transformation deepen. His body grew bulkier, his shirt straining even more as muscles filled out his frame. Tattoos crawled up his arms—intricate designs he suddenly remembered getting over the years. His beard was now fully grown in, thick and neatly groomed. His scalp tingled as his hairline receded further, leaving him mostly bald.

Memories that didn’t belong to him started to flood his mind—long hours spent working in this very store, not just as a worker, but as the owner. He could see himself stocking shelves, advising customers, learning every detail about hardware and home repairs. He remembered years of pride in running this place, but those weren’t his only memories.

He remembered Tom. The warmth of his husband’s laugh, the way they’d worked side by side to turn this store into something successful. The quiet nights at home after long days at the shop, the two of them curled up together, talking about everything and nothing.

Dylan—no, he wasn’t Dylan anymore. He was Ben, and this hardware store was his life. He owned it, ran it, loved it. And he shared it with Tom.

When his dad finally returned from the back of the store, he wasn’t Dylan’s dad anymore. The man walking up to the counter was now just another customer—one Ben vaguely recognized as a regular. They’d probably chatted a few times over the years, but there was no deeper connection between them. His father was gone, replaced by this new reality.

“Hey, thanks for waiting,” the man said with a grin. “Looks like I found what I needed after all.”

Ben nodded. “Glad to hear it. Anything else I can help you with?”

The man shook his head and walked toward the door. As Ben turned back to the register, the world around him felt settled, solidified. This was his life now. The store was bustling again, customers browsing the aisles, and Ben had a mental map of everything in stock, every aisle, every brand. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

A familiar voice broke his thoughts, and he looked up to see Tom walking toward him, wiping his hands on a rag. “You holding down the fort while I fix that shelf in the back?”

Ben smiled, his heart warming at the sight of his husband. “Yeah, you know it.”

Tom grinned and leaned in for a quick kiss before heading back to work. Ben’s heart swelled with contentment. This was where he belonged—running the store with the man he loved.

And as he glanced around at the customers he’d helped today, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

#transformation #ai art

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17020 · 8 months ago

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☆ INVISIBLE STRING.

Chifuyu Matsuno, Takashi Mitsuya, and Ken "Draken" Ryuguji as lyrics from Taylor Swift's "Invisible String." Chifuyu owns a pet store and Draken owns a repair shop.

"ALL ALONG THERE WAS SOME INVISIBLE STRING TYING YOU TO ME"

Perhaps the stack of romance novels he had on his bedroom had finally gotten to him, but CHIFUYU MATSUNO was a firm believer of soulmates. He saw them everywhere: in his manga, in the streets, even in the canaries, puppies, and kittens from his pet store. Chifuyu was certain that, just like in literature, he was to get a soulmate of his own. He was the star of his own novel: The Red String of Fate. He was so engrossed in it, in fact, that he swore he had seen a faint, red string carefully wrapped around his pinky. Chifuyu Matsuno yearned for the day in which he would meet 'the one'. Thus, he was blown away one afternoon as you stepped foot into his pet store, with a red string tied onto your pinky, and a naughty Peke J in your arms, bringing what seemed like a 'lost cat' back where it belonged.

"ONE SINGLE THREAD OF GOLD TIED ME TO YOU"

Because TAKASHI MITSUYA believed that, if he could describe the love of a soulmate with a color, he would say golden. All day, non-stop, his little sisters would gush about soulmates, giddily exclaiming how they are one hundred percent real. He would usually chuckle at his sisters' excitement, usually brushing it off as naiveness. He did not believe much in soulmates until he found himself arriving early to school to use the sewing machine to fix his uniform's lettering, only to find you, using his golden thread to sew letters onto what seemed like a uniform. A thread of gold, tying together two delinquents from opposite gangs. You became his muse, his reason to pursue design. It was no surprise that Takashi Mitsuya created a collection based on this secret love, filled with delicate, golden accents, as well as rough, shredded fabric, to symbolize the double lives of him and his soulmate. He titled the collection "The Thread of Gold."

"A STRING THAT PULLED ME OUT OF ALL THE WRONG ARMS RIGHT INTO THAT DIVE BAR"

A hazy, dreamlike encounter. It seemed to have been fate that tied you and DRAKEN together in a place where time slows down. A dive bar, located near Draken's repair shop, was the place in which you ended up, tired from your friends' constant set ups and blind dates as they 'helped' you find a partner. It was time for fate to step in, tugging on your string and pulling you from any dates and making you sit next to a handsome, blond man with a dragon tattoo on his temple at some random, unknown bar in the middle of Tokyo. Ordering the same drinks led to small talk, which led to him confessing that he was there to avoid his friends, as they tried setting him up with women after a breakup with his best friend's sister. Being stuck in the same situation, Draken had a thought pop up on his mind, and even though he was desperately trying to push it away, the sweet liquor had already gotten to him. "Do you think we're soulmates? 'Cause I think so". The dive bar ended up as the place where many dates took place, as it held the memories of being pulled together by the string of fate.

#tokyo revengers x reader #chifuyu x reader #mitsuya x reader #draken x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you #chifuyu x you #draken x you #mitsuya x you

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gingiesworld · 1 year ago

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Hi, can you do a Wanda x Male Reader? R is a tattoo artist and wanda is going to get a small tattoo, they both like each other and end up dating. R and Wanda are very sexually active and after sex, Wanda likes to draw R's tattoos with her finger.

Ink and Love

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings : Smut. Fluff

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda was walking through town with her best friend and roommate Nat. Soon their eyes found a new shop in town which had never been there before.

"That's new." Nat stated as the two looked inside. Wanda's gaze was upon the guy covered in tattoos, smiling softly at his concentration as he tattooed his client. "Wanda?"

"What?" Wanda was soon snapped out of her thoughts by a smirking Nat.

"You should get a tattoo." Nat told her as Wanda shook her head no. "Go on. Just a small one." Nat pulled her inside with her as the tattoo artist was just finishing up with his current client. The two girls listened as he explained about the after care.

"How can I help you?" He asked once the previous customer had left.

"My friend here wants a small tattoo. It's her first one." Nat told him as Wanda was lost for words.

"Have you got any idea in mind?" He asked Wanda who shook her head no. "Can you talk?" He asked her with a smirk.

"Yes." She squeaked out nervously as Nat coughed to hide a laugh. "I mean yes." She spoke in a more steady voice.

"I guess given how you are dressed, maybe these soft gothic designs are more for you." He gestured for her to look through a book.

"I like this one." She spoke as she pointed at a small red rose.

"Where would you like it?" He asked her. "Sometimes these are placed more under the collarbone by most customers."

"That sounds perfect." She mumbled nervously as Nat decided to leave.

"So if you can just pull your dress down a little bit." He asked her as he got all of his equipment ready before shaving the area from any tiny hair folicles that can ruin the tattoo. Wanda watched as he carefully applied the template before he got the ink and the gun prepared. "So, this is your first tattoo?" He asked her as he started. "This will hurt."

"Yes." Wanda winced as he started the needles. "You're my first." She soon blushed when she tried to correct herself.

"Don't worry darling, I know what you mean." He reassured her, lifting his eyes to her emerald irises. If he didn't have a needle in his hand he would have willingly got lost in the sea of green. "Are you single?" He asked her.

"That's a bit personal isn't it." She chuckled as he smiled at her.

"I know but I need you to answer so I can ask another question." He stated with a smirk as Wanda nodded.

"Yes. I am single." She told him.

"Well, would you like to go on a date with me?" He asked her as she just nodded with a smile. That was just the start of their story. After the third date, he had asked her to be his girlfriend to which she answered by pulling him in by the collar into her apartment. That was the first of many times which had urged Nat to buy herself some noise cancelling headphones.

"Fuck." She moaned as she rode him, her hands on his chest, nails digging into his skin as she neared her climax. Y/N not letting her calm down before flipping her over and chasing down his own high.

"Oh." She moaned lewdly as he bit her collarbone, leaving another mark over the already fading one. He soon reached his orgasm with a grunt as she came once more. He pulled out and collapsed beside her, Wanda instantly laying her head on his chest and tracing the outine of his tattoos on his stomach.

"I love you." He spoke for the first time as he gazed at her, watching as a smile etched it's way onto her face as she kissed him tenderly.

"I love you." She whispered before she noticed a new tattoo on his neck. "When did you get this?"

"A friend of mine done it for me." He told her as she traced the new crown tattoo with her name underneath. "I have known for a while that I love you, I was just scared to say it out loud." He admitted as she cuddled into him. Feeling extremely safe until they heard a knock on her bedroom door.

"Can you please fuck quietly. Some of us are trying to sleep here and live a single boring life!" Nat yelled through the door as the couple just chuckled at her.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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lumiatattoo · 1 year ago

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Are you on the lookout for a top-notch tattoo design shop near you? Look no further than Lumia Tattoo, your ultimate destination for exquisite fine line tattoos in Miami! Our skilled artists are committed to turning your tattoo dreams into stunning works of art.

At Lumia Tattoo, we take pride in offering a unique and personalized tattoo experience. Our shop is equipped with talented tattoo artists who specialize in fine line tattoos, ensuring precision and attention to detail in every design. Whether you're a first-timer or a seasoned tattoo enthusiast, our team is dedicated to creating a masterpiece that reflects your style and personality.

#fine line tattoo near me #fine-line tattoos #top tattoo shops in miami #tattoo design shop near me #tattoo aftercare

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literallyjusthereformods · 21 days ago

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Mod folder's cooked still, sharing photos of my sims from my gallery.

Not my preferred method, but I'm dying to share them! So anyways here's a mega photo dump.

Cade E Cherrypop! (Normal/Ruined)

My love for sentient entertainment animatronics is one that will forever remain unshaken. Cade E Cherrypop is the sentient android mascot of Cade E Arcade! (Thx to the new chibi preset by @sdmsims, another little mascot will be along shortly as a friend)

After society collapses due to a zombie-apocalypse-plus, the arcade falls into ruin, and Cade E eventually reawakens in the ruins in her second withered form, sun-bleached, dirty and damaged.

Xelleen Wisher

Xelleen Wisher's a gaming streamer in this world's analog to Twitch! Despite his anxiety disorder, he does his best to put up an optimistic and energetic persona for his audience. He really loves cute things, especially cats and small collectibles! He's also very, very good at videogames, dabbling in speed runs and challenge runs.

Xelleen was created by me as a very positive character. He combines physical traits that are painted as a stereotypical "neckbeard" image (acne, overweightness) with features of the "gamergirl" aesthetic (cute clothes, makeup, lots of pink.) He stands as his own person, defined by neither stereotype.

The bottom/last pic of the three shows his face without his makeup on!!

Steelie Buzzkill

(Wouldn't Be Possible Without @sdmsims's Anime Mod!!!)

Ordered as an Incarnate (an Incarnate is a special type of android commissioned to be a real-word version of a fictional character) of somebody's OC, Steelie's shipment was intercepted after the law recognizing android sentience was passed. His company dumped him and his peers on the side of the road near a rural town.

Since he was freed before artificial memories were programmed into him, he doesn't know what character he's intended to be, and he really doesn't WANT to know.

He works at IHopTopic, the compound store that exists because in this universe, IHop and Hot Topic had some sort of business deal from hell that led to a combined location.

(Between you and me, his design SOMEBODY's fannon ship child OC, but I won't say more than that, nor do the medias his parents are from exist irl.)

The rest will just be character images with short descriptions. I'll likely make individual posts later on going in more depth!!

Torren's a model! He models both clothes and makeup.

Torren's photographer, and general voice of reason. They're bascially buddies.

Aniyo loves hanging out in malls and drawing fanart for their favorite animes. Above all though, they love animals!! Their aspiration is to be a rescue caretaker for animals that need them.

A small trunked rodent I created called a 'rummager.'

It's too bad I'm missing the cc for this one, because I'd love to show their whole design in CAS. I really like this one. They have a lot to do with a certain collapse plotline.

Owner of a tattoo shop. VERY supportive of their artists, and probably one of the best bosses ever.

Tattoo artist working for Crim.

Another one of Crim's hired tattoo artists!

Third tattoo artist out of four in Crim's tattoo shop. (The fourth one's too short to show in gallery, sorry.)

Runaway teen after something really bad happened at home. Navigating the post-collapse hellscape with her horse.

Apex Zombie who's territory spans an entire abandoned city. It's antenna syncs up to the abandoned traffic cams, giving it eyes all over the urban ruins. As a side effect, the old digital billboards flicker to life in monochromatic imagery when it approaches.

@ssspringroll because I definitely used some of your CC in this. Idr where, but I DEFINETELY did. Also, you're one of my favorite creators, thank you for existing <3

#sims 4 #ts4 #simblr #my sims #weird sims #sims 4 screenshots #zombie apocalypse #zombies #androids #animatronics #body posititivity #honestly what else do I tag here lol #sdmsims

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lunarcrown · 7 months ago

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can we see all of your tattoos? :0

I FINALLY TOOK PICS!!!! I actually don’t have a TON of tattoos compared to my peers but I have a nice chunk! I’m just slow at getting tattooed bc I’m always working so I get like MAYBE two a year 😂

ANYWAYS!!! Ok so my legs: butterfly, demon goat girl, caterpillar, bill cipher (a SUPER OLD ONE), Minecraft block, and blue three eyed cat are all by me on me HAHA

I’ve made myself quit tattooing myself so I can get OTHER people’s art on me, but I wanted to tattoo my own shins just in case it was too terrible to continue with someone else (it’s not actually that bad!!!), and the other things like the Minecraft block were just so I could have complete control of it when it meant so much to me. The three eyed cat is actually my first “official” tattoo on skin I did as an apprentice! (Bill was a sneaky stick and poke I did in college OTL)

Creeper is from a friend/fellow tattoo artist who I trade tattoos with a bunch (but we still pay each other bc BILLS…), party dragon was from a dragon tattoo trade, worm on a string was from a friend who’s apprenticeship started same time as mine, pink axolotl is from my coworker who is sooooo freakin cool….i aspire to be like her so much…. And anime eyes heart gal is from a super cool friend that I went to college with! We reunited when I started tattooing and got a lot of laughs on how long it took to get our degrees and now we aren’t even “using” them HAHSG

Rest of the ones on my legs!!

Mob is from the same buddy that did the creeper and another one you’ll see in a sec, the kitties are from ANOTHER pal who started apprenticing same time as me! They’re actually arranged to be a subtle ⚢ sign bc IM A HOMOSEXUALLLLL~~ the symbol beneath these is the ol symbol from gravity falls that I ALSO stick and poked in college YEP…. Love Bug and the firefly are by a buddy from Virginia! One day I’m gonna get a “mean” version of love bug on my other thigh and it’s gonna say “bug off” 🤩 and the colorful leopard is from ANOTHER buddy trade that I did with a very cool friend!!

And finally MY ARMS!!!!

I have even less up here because getting arm tattoos makes it hard to work pfft….

I LOVE canti from OG FLCL (I love robots with sick designs so much…) and I love the show as well (introducing me to the Pillows was so PIVOTAL…) so I have him not once but TWICE form different ppl. The one with the flowers was from my mentor who turned out to be a sucky person so BOOO but I still love the tattoo~ the claptrap and OTHER canti are from a neat guy that I LOOOVE his style but his shop is sooo traditional and it’s lowkey uncomfortable even though he’s nice so idk if I’ll go back for a third. The Grievous is from the same buddy that did the creeper and mob!!! It’s so cool too bc my freckles make HIM have freckles and it’s adorable to me. And finally my VERY first tattoo I ever got, the big ufo abducting a pumpkin!!

This was done by Kelly McGrath in North Carolina and she was so sosososo sweet, gave me free prints, let me video call some of it to my family because we were VERY very far away from each other, AND I got to tell her years and years later that she inspired me so much that I became a tattoo artist myself!! And I even got to ask her a question or two and she responded so nice :,,)

SO YEAH I don’t have much rhyme or reason to my picks besides preferring color tattoos to be the majority, but my goal now is to collect tattoos from some very cool people and take my time filling up my body with art!! Eventually I would like to extend to my hands (palms included) and feet (JUST THE TOP I AM NOT DOING MY SOLES), neck, body, and maybe a few on my face near the outer perimeter/outer corner of eyes/above eyebrows! But that’ll probably be way off bc I work a LOT like I said at the beginning! Always the tattooer, never the tattooed HAHA

#moonspeak #long post #lyfe #melfase #irl #I’m both kinda like WOAH I’ve collected a fair amount of tattoos now!!#and also like I HAVENT GOTTEN ENOUGH!!!!!!!

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bleedink1 · 7 months ago

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Exploring the Mastery of Realism tattoo artist in toronto at Bleedink: Why This Toronto Studio Is Your Go-To for Hyper-Realistic Tattoos

In the bustling city of Toronto, where the art scene thrives vibrantly, realism in tattoo art has garnered a substantial following. Among the myriad of tattoo studios, Bleedink stands out as a beacon for those seeking exceptional Realism tattoo artist in toronto. This blog explores why Bleedink is recognized as the premier destination for realistic tattoos, highlighting the technical prowess, artistic dedication, and personalized service that make it the top choice for enthusiasts and newcomers alike.

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Realism tattoos demand a high level of skill and an intricate understanding of art principles such as shading, depth, and texture. The artists at Bleedink are not just tattooists; they are artists with a deep passion for realistic art. Their ability to capture the essence of their subjects with needle and ink is unmatched. Whether it's the delicate veins in a leaf, the subtle gradients of a sunset, or the intricate features of a human face, Bleedink’s artists ensure that every detail is rendered with astonishing accuracy.

Tailored Artistic Guidance

Choosing a realism tattoo is a journey that often involves detailed discussions and planning. At Bleedink, the process is deeply collaborative. Artists spend significant time consulting with clients, understanding their visions, and discussing how best to bring these to life on their skin. This bespoke approach not only enhances client satisfaction but also ensures that each tattoo is unique and personalized, resonating deeply with the individual's story and desires.

Advanced Ink and Equipment

To achieve the high fidelity required in realism tattoos, Bleedink employs the latest in tattoo technology. From advanced ink formulas that provide a wider spectrum of pigments and greater longevity to state-of-the-art equipment that allows for precise needlework, Bleedink is at the forefront of innovation. This commitment to using the best tools in the trade not only improves the quality of the tattoos but also enhances the overall client experience by reducing discomfort and healing time.

A Focus on Comfort and Care

Understanding that getting a tattoo can be an intimidating experience for some, Bleedink has created an environment that prioritizes comfort and ease. The studio's ambiance is calm and welcoming, with private areas available for those who might need a more secluded space. Additionally, the staff at Bleedink are trained to provide care and support throughout the tattooing process, ensuring that each client feels reassured and relaxed from consultation to aftercare.

Aftercare and Longevity

A realism tattoo is an investment, and Bleedink is dedicated to ensuring that each piece retains its beauty over time. After the tattoo session, clients receive detailed aftercare instructions tailored to their specific skin type and tattoo placement. This focus on aftercare is pivotal in preventing infection, ensuring proper healing, and maintaining the vibrancy and detail of the tattoo for years to come.

Community and Reputation

Bleedink's reputation in Toronto as a leader in realism tattoos has been built not just on the skill of its artists but also on its engagement with the community. The studio frequently participates in local and international tattoo conventions, showcasing their work and techniques. Through these events, Bleedink not only promotes the art of realistic tattoos but also fosters a broader appreciation for tattoo artistry as a form of personal expression and fine art.

Conclusion

For those captivated by the stunning detail and lifelike quality of Realism tattoo artist in Toronto, Bleedink is the ultimate destination in Toronto. With a team of dedicated artists, cutting-edge technology, and a client-focused approach, Bleedink not only meets but exceeds the expectations of those seeking realistic tattoos. If you are looking to capture a piece of reality on your skin, visit Bleedink, where your visions are transformed into breathtaking, realistic art.

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reve-writes · 2 years ago

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—inked; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1k words. ʚ reader is a tattoo artist, kaz brekker needs a tattoo. there's a lot of yearning involved. ʚ non-descriptive needle and tattoo stuff; slight angst. ʚ a/n you can tell i don't know how tattoos work.

Kaz Brekker should stop trying to find a reason to knock on your door. He should step back, tilt his head down and walk away as if he was never there in the first place. It was becoming a habit and habits meant comfort and comfort usually became root for something more—something that someone like him couldn't grow beyond a sprout when you deserved the whole forest.

Yet he stayed stubbornly at your door.

He was a selfish man in that regard.

He could hear you shuffling behind the door and then the rattle of your keys, followed by a soft click of your door being unlocked. You pulled the door open a smidge.

“Kaz!”

He wished you didn't sound so happy to see him. Then, he wouldn't feel welcomed to come back the next time and the next time and the next. He didn't want to make a habit out of it, but he was here yesterday and four days ago and a week ago. He had a feeling that he would be here in the near future as well.

Your door swung open immediately. You were wearing casual clothes, comfortable for sleeping, instead of your usual coats and leathers. It was a welcome change. It made his visits feel more personalised, like he was the only one to see you as you were and not as you wanted him to.

“What brings you here tonight?” you asked, already leading him to sit on the upholstered couch in your room. It used to be your bed, before you saved enough for a real one. Now, it nestled itself in one corner of your room for rare visitors. The only one who ever came by your rented room in Ketterdam was Kaz lately.

“I want to get a tattoo.”

His eyes wandered to your walls, littered with inked drawings of past tattoo designs you had done. You worked at a tattoo parlour that fell in the Dregs' territory. Many of the new members had their tattoos done at your workplace. You had even inked a few of them yourself.

“The shop opens in a couple of hours,” you said. “We can wait—”

“Not at the shop, if you can,” he interrupted. He didn't think he could bear having other people in the same room. He didn't think he wanted someone else to potentially do it as well. He came to you because he trusted you. He had spent too many nights awaiting dawn with you. He had told you too many secrets he shouldn't have. You had told him things about yourself that you probably shouldn't. He came to you when nothing went right. He came to you when everything went the way it should. You waited for him after a good day. You still waited even after a bad day.

It was a strange dynamic.

It should feel like he was skeeting over the edge of a chasm, but it felt more like the gentle hum of his room at the Slat. Steady, familiar four walls that served as a respite from the debauchery of the Barrell.

“Of course,” you agreed. It took you less than five minutes to gather everything you needed. Fortunately, you had gone on a supply run for the shop earlier. You were planning to bring everything to the shop when it opened, but you'd be needing them earlier than you thought.

“You're putting a lot of trust in me,” you joked. “I could write 'Ketterdam's biggest loser' on your arm.”

“It would suit you better than me.”

You chuckled. He thought it would sound good on vinyl. He could listen to it for hours.

“Rule one, Brekker. Never insult the person who's putting permanent ink on you.” You shot him a glare, but you were smiling. It was inexplicably easy to smile around him. “What are you thinking?”

“The Dregs tattoo, on my arm.” He rolled his sleeves and your heart was beating twice as fast. Unbeknownst to you, his was as well. He had never bared a part of himself so casually before. You had never seen him without all his layers—all the protection over his skin.

Your machine whirred to life. You disinfected his skin with a couple swipes of a disinfectant pad. His whole body tensed when you made contact, despite your gloves.

“Hey, Kaz.” You pulled his attention away from where you'd touched him. “I won't hurt you.”

You held out your gloved palm. With your free hand, you took his gloved hand and set it gently over your palm. He inhaled sharply.

“It's okay. It's just me.”

He trailed a finger softly over your palm. There was a barrier between your skins, but it was daunting all the same. He took a couple of deep, spaced breaths with closed eyes. When he opened them, you were smiling encouragingly at him.

“You can start,” he said, but almost immediately regretted it when you pulled your hands away.

“There will be slight pain,” you said over the whirring of your machine.

He scoffed. “I know pain better than—”

He cursed, inhaling sharply when first contact broke his skin.

You rolled your eyes. “I warned you, Brekker.”

Stray hairs fell over his forehead. “I was startled.”

His eyes were tracing the lines of your face as you worked. The proximity started to feel somewhat comfortable, with the lull of your tattoo machine. You occasionally hummed as you worked. He etched the sound into his mind. You weren't a singer, but he preferred your voice over any performers.

“Done!” you suddenly proclaimed. He looked away and cleared his throat. “What do you think?”

The crow and cup over his right forearm. A permanent mark that he was Dirtyhands of the Dregs. No deed too low for him as long as there was enough Kruge involved. Was that all who he really was?

“Can you add another? A small one,” he rasped.

“Certainly, Kaz. What is it?”

“The letter R, here,” he pointed at his bicep. “For the boy I was. For my brother.”

“I wish I could've met him, you know. Jordie.”

Kaz wished so, too. A foolish wish. Ketterdam didn't groom him to be a wishful thinker. Hope was a dangerous, dangerous thing. He should leave.

“Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if I overstepped.”

Kaz's eyes widened. “No. You're okay.”

It was him.

“Then stop looking like you're ready to bolt anytime, Kaz. I happen to appreciate your company.”

“Oh.”

He let hope force its way in and make a nest in his chest anyway.

[ ]

#kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #—ki writes 🍯

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korgidorgi · 10 months ago

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Alex Danvers x Tattooist!Reader

Word Count: 6,361

Warnings: homophobic slurs, tattoo needles

Summary: Alex keeps scheduling tattoo appointments with you ;3

I didn't mean for it to be this long but my fingers kept typing. Anyways, enjoy!

Also, @spoodermankid, i thought i'd tag you since you commented on my teaser post :3

Your phone dings, indicating a text. You check the notification on your Lock Screen. It’s a DM from your instagram. You swipe it open, looking at the message. They ask about your tattoo service. You shoot them a reply, including some information about your rates and types of art you do, and what you need from them in order for you to tattoo them. In return, they send some photos and description of the tattoo location and size. The two of you come to an agreement and decide a date for the appointment.

That day came slowly around the corner. The last few clients have been rather unpleasant. You sigh, leaning your head on your hand as you scribble some sketches down on a sheet for a client. You flip your pencil over and roughly erase a couple lines that don’t look right and return to scribbling madly. The door swinging open and a small chime alerts you to another client. You glance up at the door, watching as a tall woman walks in. Her eyes scan the room before landing on you. Her auburn hair is a touch messy and she nervously moves it out of the way. You raise your head up, your full attention on her. You look her up and down, taking in her dark outfit and short, auburn hair. Her tank top reveals her muscles as she tucks her jacket under her arm.

“Hey,” you greet, “welcome to the shop.”

“Hi, I’m here for an appointment for 3:30?” She asks.

You look down at your appointment notes. “Alex, right?”

The woman nods, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Okay, have you done this before?” You ask her.

“No,” she shakes her head. “First time.”

“Alright, “well, you’re in good hands today,” you offer her a smile. “Can I see some ID?”

Alex reaches for her wallet, pulling out her ID and handing it over to you. You accept it, running it through a scanner and printing a sheet for her to sign. You hand both back over to her for her to fill out.

“Do you have any allergies I should be aware of?” You ask. “Shellfish..?”

“Uh, no.” She answers.

“Okay, cool,” you respond.

You go over the size and location with her again, showing her some printouts of her design. She selects the one she likes best and you proceed to make the transfer stencil. You watch as her nervousness begins to slowly melt away as you talk to her.

“If you wouldn’t mind following me to my studio,” you get up and lead her down a hall of studios to the last one on the left.

“You can set your stuff down here.” You gesture to a corner near the door. “Just take a seat on the chair when you’re ready.”

Meanwhile you slide on your gloves and begin to set up your tattoo machine and open the ink caps you’ll be using. Alex takes a seat on the chair, settling into her spot.

“Can I see the area?” You ask. “I need to clean it and then I’m gonna apply the stencil.”

She turns her shoulder to you for you to apply the stencil. You wipe down the area and go to apply the blue stencil.

“Right here?” You hover over the area. “Or do you need it slightly somewhere else?”

“No, there’s fine,” she confirms.

You place the paper and smooth it over a few seconds before removing it, leaving a blue stencil behind on her skin.

“Go check the mirror and see if you like it there,” you smile at her and point to the mirror.

You watch her approach the mirror and look at the placement near her collarbone.

“I like that,” she confirms, her hands tracing the area around the stencil.

She turns back to you, pausing until you gesture for her to take a seat again.

You get ready and begin tattooing her. As soon as the needle first touches her skin, she winces slightly at the sensation. You pull away, looking up at her. She nods her head, taking a deep breath and letting it out. She gives you a nervous smile as you go ahead once more. This time, she’s prepared for it.

“So, uh,” she begins, “do you enjoy tattooing?”

“Yeah, there’s just something about watching peoples reactions to their imaginations coming true,” you answer. “It also keeps me in a creative mindset, a release I guess.”

She hums in response. “You ever get bad clients?”

“Yep,” you quip, nodding your head. “My past week has been full of them.”

“Jees,” she sighs.

“I’m gonna be honest, I was hoping you were a woman,” you continue. “I can’t handle another man right now.”

“I feel you,” she agrees.

As you continue with the small tattoo, the two of you make pleasant conversation. She tells you about her job as an FBI agent until you finish. You set your machine down and begin wiping down the area.

“Alright, that’s all done,” you announce, throwing out the ink cap. “I’m gonna apply some ointment and a second skin.”

She nods along to your procedure.

“Don’t leave it on for more than two days, after which you can begin to apply some ointment the next day.” You instruct. “Make sure to wash it twice a day, apply the ointment, and it should be healed within three weeks.”

You give her a satisfied smile as she goes to inspect it.

“Thank you!”

“Of course, any time, Alex,” you grin at her. “I also have some snacks if you wanna take one.”

You turn to pull out a drawer full of various candies. You watch her eyes widen at your stash before she roots through it to pick out a candy. Once she has her candy and has grabbed up her stuff, you guide her to the lobby and bid her farewell.

You slide down into the seat, resting your head in your hand, propped on the desk. You let out a small, satisfied sigh.

“Oh, I know that look,” you hear your coworker, Becca, state from across the lobby. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she’s leaning against the frame of the hallway.

“What look?” You sit up, crossing your arms in return.

“You saw a hot woman,” she smirks, “and now you’re fawning.”

Your hand flies over your heart. “Am not!”

“Mhmm…” she slowly nods, an eyebrow raised at you. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

•••

A few weeks go by before you get an instagram DM by none other than Alex Danvers. You open the message, reading it and responding. She wants another tattoo, so she sends you her ideas and some pictures of what she wants. She asks for your input and what you would do if you were getting it. You advise her that its her tattoo and she determines what she wants on her body. Once again, you two agree on a date and time for the appointment.

“Can you turn this gay shit off?” He huffs at you.

“What vibe do you want, my guy?” You get up and head to your iPod, rolling your eyes.

“Something that’s not so faggy,” he retorts.

“Sorry, mate,” you interrupt, “we’re not using that kind of language in my studio.”

“What?” He snorts. “Gay? Shit? Fag?”

“Yeah, not in my studio,” you shake your head at him.

He just huffs in response, going quiet in his seat. You turn back to your iPod, finding a playlist you’ve put together just for people with his attitude. These people don’t listen to the lyrics, so you play it. You then slide your gloves on, sitting in your stool to tattoo him.

“Can you give me your arm?” You ask.

“You’re not touching me,” he quips.

“I can’t tattoo you if you won’t let me,” you respond.

“Fine,” he huffs yet again.

You begin tattooing him, beginning on the top of his forearm. He wanted a dragon slithering around. The banter from him continues, wasting your tattooing time. He keeps flinching away, telling you to stop, and interrupting your art by going to grab his water bottle with the arm your tattooing. With every word he speaks, he shortens your fuse bit by bit. You’re nearly done with the lineart, flipping his arm to the underside and tattooing the dragons tail. The moment you touch the underside of his arm, he pulls back violently.

“Ow!” He screams. “Bitch!”

“Sir, I’m telling you one last time,” you glare at him, “respect me and my space, or I’m not tattooing you.”

“You can’t deny my service,” he continues yelling, “I’m fucking paying you!”

“Okay, y’know what—” you put your machine down and taking off your gloves— “you can leave now.”

“You can’t kick me out!” He screeches.

“I’m your artist, this is my space, and you’re being an asshole.” You argue.

“You’re the asshole!” He continues. “You’re playing faggy music in a faggy shop in a faggy studio!”

“Get the fuck out.” You point towards the door of your studio.

“NO!”

You get up, leaving the studio yourself. He grabs his stuff and angrily follows you.

“Where do you think you’re going???” He storms out behind you.

“Away from you,” you answer. “Our session is done!”

“No it’s not,” he bellows, “get back here, bitch!”

You continue walking away from him, not paying him any mind.

“This is why I don’t let women tattoo me!” He screeches, throwing his hands up.

“Hey, if you want to take a while and come back later when you’re not a hater, I can finish your tattoo,” you offer. “But you’ve wasted time and I have a client coming in any minute now so you can take your attitude and get the fuck out.”

“Fuck you, bitch!” He storms towards you. “Fuck you and your fucking stupid ass faggy shop and your stupid fucking bitch coworkers and—“

“Since you want to be such a hater,” you whip back around to him, “I’m not a big dick manly alpha man, and you just got tattooed by a lesbian!”

He stands in his place, his jaw dropped in offense. He finds his composure and tries to speak again, however, you cut him off.

“So why don’t you walk yourself out of this faggy store.”

Between you and your coworker staring at him, he finally lets up, grumbling as he angrily shoves past your next client, kicks the door open, and leaves. You sigh, deflating and taking a seat in the desk chair. You look back up at the person he shoved past.

“Alex!” You greet, a tired smile taking over your features at her presence.

“Hey,” she returns, “sorry about all… that.”

You wave her off, “It happens more than you think. I’m used to it at this point.”

She hums, shaking her head. “Still, doesn’t mean it should happen at all.

“How long were you there?” You ask.

“Long enough,” she breathes. “Sorry, I also came a bit early.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shake your head at her, “its fine.”

You take Alex through the whole check in process, taking her ID and giving her papers to sign. Once done, you lead her back and get setup in your studio. You place the stencil and she confirms its placement and you get started with tattooing her.

“Do people like him happen often?” She asks.

“Not super often,” you shrug, “but enough to make you contemplate quitting.”

“You think about quitting?” She asks, surprise evident in her tone. “Not seriously,” you admit, “but sometimes people, like him, piss you off so much and make you feel like shit.”

“That’s not fair to you,” she states, her eyebrows narrowing.

“It is what it is,” you sigh.

The room is silent, other than the hum of the machine as you work on her body art.

“By the way,” she smirks, “I like being tattooed by a lesbian.”

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head and glancing up at her.

“I’m glad.”

You continue with the tattoo, the two of you finding comfortable conversation in the meantime. Once you finish, you apply the ointment and second skin and go over the aftercare instructions with her. You both walk into the lobby together.

“Thank’s for being a good client,” you acknowledge her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She nudges your arm with hers. “You’re the best tattoo artist.”

You chuckle at her compliment. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“C’mon, give yourself some credit,” she encourages.

“I’m your only tattoo artist,” you tilt your head towards her, driving your point further.

“But,” she tuts at you, “you’re the best one.”

You shake your head, taking a seat on the desk.

“Hey, I’ve still got some time to kill,” Alex states, “if you don’t have anything going on, would you mind if I stuck around and chatted a bit?”

“Sure,” you accept, smiling at her.

You hop off the deck, going around to open a cabinet full of your personal snacks.

“Want any?” You offer to her.

She points to one and you grab it for her. You return to her, handing the snack over.

“C’mon, we can chat back in my studio,” you usher her back to your studio.

The two of you chat for a while before Alex has to go. She bids you farewell before disappearing out the door and down the street.

•••

Business is slow for the next month and a half, allowing you to relax a bit more and de-stress from ridiculous customers. Alex sends you pictures of her tattoo in the healing process, which you applaud her for taking good care of. You still spend a lot of time in the studio, taking walk-ins here and there. You sit at the lobby desk more than anyone else in the studio because of your slow business.

The door swings open, the chime alerting the store to someones presence. You look up, recognizing the auburn haired woman.

“Back again so soon?” You quip to Alex, resting your chin on your hands.

You smirk at her from your side of the desk and watch as another woman enters the shop.

“Yep, and I brought my sister this time,” she beams at you.

She hands you her and her sisters ID to you.

“We’re hoping to get matching tattoos!” The blonde announces, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Oh,” you hum, turning to the scanner, “you better not be getting each others names on you.”

“Oh god—“

“It’s a curse,” you playfully sigh at her. “I swear it. Any tattoo artist will too.”

Briefly, you turn to the computer and plunk in some commands for the forms needed. You then perch on the desk, waiting for the printer to work its magic. You look back at the two.

“Well, we’re not getting each others names,” Alex states, failing to hide a chuckle from you.

“Well, what were you two thinking?” You ask, grabbing a few freshly printed papers for them to sign. You extend the warm papers and their IDs back to them.

“We were thinking small,” Alex starts, glancing at her sister.

The blonde interrupts her, “I’d get the sun and Alex would get the earth!”

“We were thinking on our wrists,” Alex turns her hand over, motioning to the spot on the underside of her wrist.

“Alright,” you nod, “do you have designs picked out yet?”

“Yep!” The sister chirps.

“Alright, if you two could sign these for me,” you bring your knees up on top of the desk as you spin around.

You hand them the forms required for the tattoos. Alex pulls out her phone, searching it for something.

“I’ll send these to you,” she says, glancing up at you briefly.

Seconds later, your phone buzzes, letting you know you got her message. You open the message, resting on your hand on the desk and leaning back on it. The designs are very simple, just lineart. They’re cute. Like Alex, you think to yourself.

“They’re cute.” You smile, looking over the simple designs.

“Thanks, Kara picked them,” Alex replies.

You let the two of them finish up while you proceed to download the images and print them on the stencil paper.

“Alex talked me into it,” Kara adds.

You let out a small, humorous snort, grabbing the stencils from the printer.

“Of course she did,” you chuckle.

You fully swing around and drop off the desk next to Alex, stencils in hand.

“C’mon to the back,” you wave them with you, leading them to your small studio room.

The two of them follow you and watch you put on some gloves and begin to organize your tools. You sway your body to the soft beat of the song playing quietly through some speakers in the room.

“Who’s going first?” You ask, opening a box of inks and needles.

“Me!” Kara exclaims. “I’m gonna get squeamish if I don’t.” She laughs nervously.

“First time, right?” You inquire, spinning on your stool, stencil in hand.

“Yeah,” she admits.

“Alright. Well, this will not be bad.” You reassure her. “Have you been scratched by a cat before?”

“Uh, no.” She shyly admits.

“Well, if you’ve ever been scratched by something like brambles or something, it would feel like that.”

You grab your machine and the needle.

“Are you nervous about needles?” You ask.

“Only if they’re stabbing me.”

“Okay, well, the needle I’m using is a very fine needle. It’s going to stab your skin, but it’s nothing like being stabbed with a shot or a knife.” You hold the small needle up for her to see. "It’s just injecting the ink into your cells.”

“Okay..” she sits on the table.

“Which wrist?” You ask, pulling a rolling tray with you.

You open the small ink cup, placing it next to your machine. Kara lifts her right arm, turning it over for you to see. A green stone bracelet adorns her wrist.

“Do you wanna take the bracelet off for this?” You ask.

“No, I can just slide it out of the way.” She responds nervously.

“What kinda stones?” You ask. “Emerald? Some sort of sapphire?”

“Yeah, emerald,” she answers, playing with it.

You let her pull it out of the way as you wash the area and place the stencil in its spot. You take the paper away, leaving the blue ink on her skin. She confirms the location. You grab your tattoo gun and turn on the machine. The soft buzz fills the room as you gently lower the nose of it to her skin. She flinches at the contact but eventually eases at the sensation. You begin the tattoo, the needle gliding over her skin leaving the black ink exactly where you need it. You work slow enough to get the lines perfect, and quick enough as to not subject her to the sensation more than she needs to. Before long, you’re done. You wipe the leftover ink away from her skin and gently wash the fresh wound. Once you apply some ointment and a second skin, you scoot back.

“What do you think?” You tilt your head at her.

“I love it!” She confirms.

She promptly shows it to Alex, letting her look over your simple handiwork. She hums in content, a smile gracing her features.

“Alright,” you clap your hands, “aftercare.” Kara looks up at you.

“Since your sister has gotten some before, she can help you,” You say. “Don’t leave the second skin on for more than two days. It’s best to take it off around 24 hours after your tattoo. For the next 5-ish days, wash it gently with antibacterial soap and water twice a day. You can also use a soft ointment on it on day 2. Once it’s done flaking, you can add moisturizer to keep it hydrated and healthy. It should be fully healed within two to four weeks. I’ll send you both home with the stuff.”

“Okay, thank you!” Kara exclaims.

You stand, nodding your head at her. You turn to toss your gloves and grab new ones to reset your station. Upon finding your box of inks empty, you climb the desk to reach a high cabinet.

“Do you need any help?” Alex offers, stepping towards you.

“It’s fine,” you assure her, focusing on your task. “Go sit your pretty self down.”

You wince at what just came out of your mouth, opting to pretend it didn’t just happen. Kara shoots her sister a knowing glance behind your back.

You hear her move to sit in the chair and you let out a small breath you’d been unknowingly holding.

After grabbing a new box of ink caps, you return to the floor and set up your station.

Alex offers you her left wrist, bare of any bracelets. You clean the area and prep it for the tattoo. Removing the stencil paper from her skin, you discard it and turn your machine on.

Tracing the stencil, the ink from your machine stains her skin. The music on in the background makes the silence comfortable as you and your clients vibe. Soon enough you’ve finished her tattoo and are cleaning it up and applying the second skin.

“All done,” you announce, stepping back from your work.

You begin to put your stuff away and discard the needles and ink caps again. Meanwhile, Alex shows her earth to Kara. You lead them to the front desk and scoot yourself over the top of it once again.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Alex offers the money for the tattoos over the desk.

“Anytime, Alex,” you wink at her as you accept the cash from her.

You watch a soft pink dust her cheeks. You focus back on counting the money and counting the change to return to her.

“Thanks for coming in, Kara,” you bid farewell to her. “See you next time, Alex.”

“Bye, Y/N!” Kara waves.

“See you,” Alex follows.

•••

It’s been a couple months since you tattooed the sisters. Alex had sent you pictures of the fully healed tattoos of the two of their wrists next to each other. You’d responded, noting how clear and healthy the tattoos both look. You’re glad they both enjoy them.

Your appointments were completely booked for a good chunk of the month. While you wracked in quite a bit of money, creating multiple works to the same high standards was beginning to take a toll on you. The appointments finally let up a bit, allowing some breathing room. One guy was quite persistent even after being denied a tattoo by you. He began blowing up your phone until you blocked him. He even went as far as making multiple instagram accounts to message you. You finally got him to shut up last week.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You set your drink down and drag it out, dreading the message. Upon looking at the message display on your screen, your heart gives a little flutter. Alex’s instagram user displays on the alert. You immediately open it, reading her text.

Hey, it’s been a while. How have you been? Anyways, I’ve decided on another tattoo if you’d want to do it. Might need your help with the final look.

She’s attached a few images to the message. One of her own sketch and a few reference images full of flowers and snakes.

You begin typing but immediately stop and rid the keyboard when you see her typing animation display.

I was thinking hip and thigh area. Sorry my artist skills aren’t the best. Take ur time with your sketch! No rush!

You begin typing again, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Of course! I’d be happy to! I’ll come up with a few slightly different designs. I’ll send them when I finish and u can choose which one :)

Awesome! Thank you so much! :)

You smile at your phone, thinking for a moment before typing again.

*Also, I’d been a bit swamped with commissions but they seem to have let up a bit. There’s also this asshole who won’t leave me alone because I refused to do his tattoo—*

You pause your typing, thinking about what you’re about to send. You begin to delete some of it before changing your mind.

As to how I’ve been, I’d been swamped with commissions but it’s seemed to slow now. There’s also this guy who didn’t like being told No about a tattoo How about urself? How have u been?

The two of you text back and forth a bit about your lives since last seeing each other. She tells you about her FBI job and the coworkers getting on her nerves, and about how her sister loves to flaunt their tattoos to their friends. You tell her about the annoying guy who won’t leave you alone and tell her there have been a few changes to the shop.

•••

Three days pass and you’ve completed four versions of what Alex was asking for. You send her the final photos of them and she decides on them. The two of you also decide on a price and an appointment date and time within the week.

You sit on the front desk casually watching the new shop fish swimming around their tank. The small, striped tiger barbs chase each other around the tank, weaving around the driftwood and plants. The other tetras remain calm, schooling together and minding their business. A small school of cory catfish sift through the sand and plant stratum substrate.

The door opening steals your attention. You look over and see Alex entering the studio. You offer her a smile, which she returns.

“Hey, good to see you back,” you greet.

“It feels good to be back,” she returns.

She swiftly hands you her ID and you promptly scan it and print her paperwork for her to sign and hand both back over to her. She pockets her ID and expertly fills the form out, meanwhile you print the stencil. She hands her form back over to you. You put the form away and hop off the desk, beginning to lead her back.

“The fish tank is new,” she observes.

“May or may not have been my idea,” you cheekily shrug, grinning at the 50 gallon setup.

“Looks amazing,” she awes at the setup.

“Thank you,” you throw a smile over your shoulder at her. “I’ve been planning it for a while now, just needed the money.”

You get her settled in your studio and you look through your various playlists to set as background music. You select one of your indie playlists, allowing the music to softly play a song by beabadoobee. You begin to prep for her tattoo, sliding gloves on and opening packages of needles and inks.

“You got your own studio fish too?” She inquires, moving over to the 5 gallon tank that houses a new betta and shrimp duo.

“Yeah, I had some leftover cash from the big tank,” you state. “Decided I needed a friend in here.”

She coos at the little flamboyant fish as he swims near the surface, looking for food. You set the chair into a recline for Alex to lay down for her tattoo.

“Gotta lay down for this one, Flower Girl,” you pat the chair- now table- for her.

She bites back a grin, opting to chew on her bottom lip at your nickname for her.

“Also, lose the pants,” you instruct, your face immediately heating up.

“I- uh, I need to be able to access the, uh, area,” you stutter out.

She smirks at you, obliging to your instructions. You look away, allowing her some privacy.

“There’s uh,” you stutter, “there’s a blanket over there if you want.”

You point over at the burrito print throw blanket in a basket full of additional various blankets. You can hear her shuffle and you occupy yourself in throwing together your tattoo tray. You get the stencil ready.

“Look in this mirror and tell me where you want it,” you instruct her.

What ensues is a game of hot and cold as you find the perfect placement for the tattoo. Once the stencil is transferred to her skin, you let her get comfortable on the table while you prepare your tattoo machine. You pull your stool over beside her, dragging your tray with you. The familiar hum of the machine soon rings out in the room as you begin to trace the stencil on her hip and thigh.

A few minutes into the tattoo, Alex speaks. “So, what got you into bringing fish into the studio?”

“I just wanted to bring some life into the studio,” you respond, eyes not leaving the tattoo site. “Something non-disruptive.”

She hums in response before you continue.

“I’ve been in the fish keeping hobby since high school,” you explain. “And Becca doesn’t like snakes.”

“You almost brought in a snake?” She asks, surprise evident in her tone.

“The thought crossed my mind,” you chuckle, wiping extra ink off her skin.

“Do you have a snake at home?”

“Yeah, actually. She was the model for my snake tattoo actually,” you answer her, briefly showing off your forearm sleeve. “Brought her into the studio I went to for it.”

“You're cute,” she hums, a small smile gracing her features before she panics. "I- I mean, that's-- cute."

You chuckle out a “thanks,” to her.

“Anything else in your home?” She asks, hoping to distract you from her slip up.

“Yep! I got two dogs, a leopard gecko, and seven fish tanks,” you proudly state.

“Wow,” she breathes, “that’s a lot.”

You hum in response, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I wanted to bring a slice of home into the studio,” you admit.

“Do you have any clownfish?” She inquires. “Like Nemo?”

You let out a small laugh. “Actually yeah. Except she doesn’t have his stripes and her name is Coat.”

“You named your fish ‘Coat’?” She chuckles in amusement.

“Yeah,” you defend your fish, “she looks like she’s wearing a white coat and her face is sticking out the hood.”

Alex lets out a laugh at your defense. “What’s your snakes’ name,” she continues, “Wood Glue?”

“Close,” you laugh, having to lift the machine off her skin.

She turns her head to you, mouth agape in disbelief.

“Her name is just Glue,” you laugh, going back to the tattoo.

She raises her eyebrows in amusement and disbelief. She shakes her head, laughing at your choice of names for your pets.

“My leopard gecko is Bones,” you continue. “I also have some cory-cats at home: Panda, Duck, Leopard, Rat, and Toad.”

“You’re insane,” she shakes her head, a grin taking over her features. “How many fish do you have in all those tanks?”

“Pffttt! Too many,” you humorously state.

She raises an eyebrow at you incredulously, egging you on.

“Honestly, I don’t know, but it’s more than like, 40,” you state. “The guppies keep fucking.”

“Jesus—“

You hum, letting a chuckle escape your lips.

“What about you?” You inquire. “You got any pets?”

“Not yet,” she admits. “My job is too demanding for me to have the time right now.”

“If you could choose a pet right now, what would you choose to adopt?”

She hums in thought, tilting her head as she thinks. “I’d probably adopt a puppy,” she admits. “Not a huge breed, but not an ankle biter.”

You laugh at her answer, continuing with the lineart of the tattoo.

“What, do you have a problem with—“

“No, I just—“ you laugh, shaking your head, “pffttt, ankle biter.”

She laughs with you as you continue inking her skin.

The first half of the tattoo goes by relatively smoothly. You’re working on the shading of the upper half when Alex asks you to pause.

“You doing okay?” You ask, placing your machine on the tray.

“Yeah, I just need to take a short break,” she admits. “I need to stretch.”

You nod, backing your stool up and letting her stand. You take your gloves off, discarding them as you stand as well. You reach your hands above your head, interlocking your fingers to stretch out your body. You hear a couple places in your fingers and shoulders crack and pop.

“I’m gonna pop out to the Snack Shack in the lobby, do you want a yummy?” You offer.

“Sure,” she accepts your offer, wrapping the large burrito around herself.

You open your studio door and hop out to the snack station. Alex follows, wrapped up cozy behind you.

You open the cabinets that house the snacks and find your personal stash.

“Anything specific you want?” You pull out a couple bags of snacks to show Alex your options.

“I’ll take the cookies right there,” she points out the bag of chocolate chip mini cookies.

You grab them and toss them to her, nearly catching her off guard. You grab your own snack and turn around to usher her back to your studio.

The two of you take a seat, you on your counter next to your fish, and her on the tattoo table. The two of you snack in silence. You’re grooving to the beat of Fever Dream by mxmtoon, humming softly along.

Before long, the two of you finish your snack break.

“Let me know when you’re ready to go again, you state, tossing your wrapper in the trash bin in your studio.

Alex follows your role and tosses hers across the room, scoring it in the bin.

“Nice,” you congratulate her.

Alex begins to settle back on the table, exposing the tattoo site. You grab a new set of gloves and get ready again, settling down in your stool.

“I’m ready,” Alex states, shifting on the table one last time.

You get ready to tattoo, adjusting your own position to best tattoo the area.

“Has that guy texted you anymore since?” She inquires, breaking the silence between you two.

“Yep,” you huff. “He keeps making new accounts to bother me.”

“You know, you can put in a police report about it,” she suggests.

“I did,” you sigh. “They said since he’s not threatening me and he hasn’t shown back up, they can’t do anything about it.”

“God, that’s such bullshit,” Alex snorts. “That’s unfair to you!”

“It is what it is..” you sigh defeatedly.

“That’s not how it should be though,” she adds. “If he keeps bothering you, I’ll open a case against him for you.”

A small smile takes over your features and you glance at the agent. “Gosh, Alex—“

“Don’t tell me not to,” she insists, “I won’t listen to it.”

You let out a chuckle, gently shaking your head. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you again as you continue working on her tattoo. Various sapphic artists continue to play through your speaker softly.

“You know,” you begin, “you don’t have to keep paying me hundreds of dollars to be able to talk to me.”

You glance up at her and she meets your gaze. Confusion crosses her features as you continue.

“Just ask me out already.”

You continue focusing on her tattoo, waiting for her response. She opens her mouth to speak, not being able to find the words to respond to you.

“I- well,” she begins to stutter out words. “I mean, I’m free next Thursday if you are?”

You smile, lifting the needle off her skin and looking at her.

“Three o’clock?” You ask.

“I’ll pick you up,” she offers.

“Deal.”

The two of you smile to yourselves, stealing glances from each other as you continue tattooing.

Alex finds mother topic for the two of you to converse about while you finish up the last hour of tattooing. Once done, you clean the area and add the second skin.

“What do you think?” You ask, discarding your gloves as she inspects it in the mirror.

She runs her hand around the second skin, inspecting and admiring your work.

“I love it,” she states, turning to you.

You give her a grin, happy with your work and her content with the final product.

“I’m glad,” you smile at her. “Okay, go get dressed and meet me at the front desk.”

You turn and hop out of the room, gently closing the door behind you. You happily skip over to the desk, jumping up and sliding over the top into your spot behind it. A few moments later, Alex exits your studio and approaches you. She digs for her wallet, taking out the cash for your work and handing it over. You accept it and quickly hand back over her change.

“Thursday,” she nods at you, “three o’clock, I’ll pick you up.”

You nod, biting your lip. “Here. I’ll be here.”

“It’s a date then,” she agrees.

•••

Come Thursday, you’d just finished up your last client of the day about an hour before Alex was supposed to arrive. You’d planned a bit ahead this morning, opting to bring a change of clothes to work for you to change into for your date.

Glancing at the fish tanks, you notice how grubby they look. “To kill some time,” you sigh to yourself.

By the time you finish, you’ve got 15 minutes to get cleaned up and ready for Alex. Before long, you hear the engine of a motorcycle revving approaching the store. You throw on a jacket, completing your look and stepping outside to wait for Alex. You look down the streets and watch the person on the motorcycle pull up in front of you. Placing a foot down to hold the bike, they take off their helmet.

“Hop on,” Alex greets.

She pulls an extra helmet up into view, extending it towards you. You grin, approaching her on her bike and accepting the extended helmet. You swing your leg over the seat, settling in behind her and securing your helmet. She urges you to hold onto her. You wrap your arms around her torso, feeling the warmth radiating from her. You hold onto her firmly yet gentle as she revs the engine, gently taking off onto the road.

#x reader #fanfiction #alex danvers #alex danvers x reader #supergirl

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come-on-shitty-boys · 10 months ago

Text

// Welcome to Kink K. Ink. inked 01 //

*The nature of this series may be not be appropriate for all readers. Content warnings include: vulgarity, heavy swearing, and implications of adult relations. Due to these themes, this series may not be suitable for readers under the age of 16. Reader discretion is advised.*

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“Tsukishima’s here.”

“Send him on back, Akaashi!” With a snap of his gloves and swivel of his stool, Kuroo Tetsurou turned to face his last client of the day. “Let’s get this sleeve finished, Tsukki dude.”

By now, Kuroo had gotten used to the unamused look that settled upon his client’s features every time that ridiculous nickname was used, but all the same, Tsukishima sat himself down in the leather seats just like he had done countless times before, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to give his high school friend full access to his shoulder.

“You know the drill by now. We’re going to wipe it down, put the stencil on, you can check placement and design, and then we’ll get started, cool?” There isn’t even a moment for the young man to answer before the cool wipe is passed over his shoulder and the stencil to complete the full look is placed onto the newly clean area. Tsukki turned his body to look in the mirror at the foot of the chair, offering a slight nod of approval before sitting back. “This should finish it all out and really pull together the rest of the sleeve,” Kuroo states, letting the hum of the tattoo machine fill the room as his foot eases down on the pedal.

It seemed like just yesterday he was picking up a machine for the very first time. But now, the weight of the machine and its steady vibration had just become a part of him. Day in and day out, Kuroo Tetsurou did nothing but create the most incredible art pieces, punching ink directly into the skin, watching as his own creation stumbled into existence at his very own fingertips. And at only 27, massive success as a tattoo artist hidden under his belt, he was able to open the doors to a shop of his very own, nothing but a handful of friends and a love for his art to push him forward.

“Hey, Kuroo!”

“I’m busy!”

“Dude, it’ll be quick, I promise!”

Kuroo leaned away from Tsukishima’s arm, easing his foot off the pedal, letting the hum fade. He lifted his head and nearly fell off of his stool from the surprise. “Dude, what the actual fuck.”

Kuroo had never really regretted having his best friend work alongside him in the shop. He would get free piercings or jewelry in exchange for regular touch-ups. But it was moments like these where the tattoo artist had serious questions for his past self. Bokuto Koutarou stood before him, a needle stuck through the septum cartilage of his nose as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What do you mean ‘what the fuck.’ I have a question.”

“Why is there a needle in your nose!”

“I was piercing it, duh.” His friend looked at him with confused eyes as if the needle and his title of body piercer really should’ve been telling enough. But, rather than continuing with what he had to say, Bokuto turned the chair on the other side of Tsukishima around to seat himself backwards, arms leaning against the back of the chair. “What’s good, Tsukki dude! I didn’t know you were coming in today! When are you gonna let me pierce those ears, huh?” He teased, reaching his hand out to lightly flick Tsukishima’s earlobe.

“You are not going anywhere near me with a needle.”

“Oh, come on! I’m good! You can ask Kuroo. Bro, aren’t I a good piercer?”

Kuroo nodded at Tsukishima, slowly turning his machine back on to return to his work. “He is pretty good. Helps that Akaashi always orders quality jewelry so it heals better. If you really wanted to, Bokuto could do your ears right now. I mean, you are going to be here for a while.”

“I am not letting Bokuto pierce my ears. Especially when he has a needle up his own damn nose.”

Bokuto wiggled his nose a little as if he had completely forgotten about the needle all together. “Easy fix. ‘Kaashi! Will you bring me that ring I put in the autoclave?”

Akaashi’s heavy sigh could be heard from the front of the shop as he slid his chair away from the counter to bring Bokuto what he had asked for. He pushed the curtain to the side, placing the tiny septum ring into Bokuto’s hand. “Remember to get rid of that needle properly,” he chided, eyeing the piercer with uncertainty.

“That was one time!”

“Yeah and we got fined for it.”

“We?! I distinctly remember that coming out of my paycheck!”

“Which comes out of my profits,” Kuroo added, shaking his head as he moved the machine over Tsukishima’s skin. “You’re going to be the reason we get shut down, bro.”

“Then we’ll just open a new shop! Easy, bro.” Bokuto reached across to sock Kuroo in the shoulder, sending a jolt through the artist’s body that only dragged an ugly line over the face of the portrait, right where the cherry red lips would’ve gone.

Kuroo slowly raised his head to stare at his friend through narrowed eyes, the shadows cast across his face from his hair only adding an extra layer of intimidation. “I’m going to beat your ass.”

Bokuto’s body stilled, fingers coming to a halt just as he was twisting the last bead onto his nose ring. Wide eyes darted from the tattoo artist and back to his reflection in the mirror. There’s a pointed look from cat like eyes as the hum of a tattoo machine comes to a stop. Before Bokuto even had the chance to make his escape, the machine had been placed gingerly on the table and the quiet peel of latex gloves leaving Kuroo’s hands was the only noise to this ominous soundtrack.

“Akaashi. . . Akaashi, help me,” Bokuto whispered, slowly getting up from his seat, eyeing his high school setter with pleading eyes.

An all too familiar teasing smirk settled onto his tired face as he turned away. “Don’t break anything,” Akaashi stated simply, rounding the corner back towards the front of the shop.

“Akaashi!”

“Akaashi can’t help you now, you little bitch.” And as quickly as his words ended, Kuroo was leaping over Tsukki in hot pursuit of his very own almost-perfect weapon of mass destruction.

Bokuto’s chair clattered to the ground in a desperate effort to keep Kuroo’s long legs at bay for a few extra seconds that could be essential for escape. But he simply hopped over the new obstacle, fingers grasping at the soft cotton of the piercer’s t-shirt, but a quick twist had Kuroo’s hand slipping without firm purchase on anything.

“Get back here, you absolute cow!”

“Hey! Just because you’re mad that you don’t have an absolute dump truck of an ass,” Bokuto pauses, sending a loud smack to his butt, wiggling it in Kuroo’s direction, “doesn’t mean that you get to be mean about it.”

“What? Did I hurt your poor little feelings?”

Bokuto laid a hand over his heart, golden eyes pouting at his friend. “You know what, yeah, you kinda did, bro.”

Kuroo’s shoulders drooped and the intensity in his eyes disappeared, softening as he took tedious steps in Bokuto’s direction. “Bro, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t take my insecurities out on you like that.”

“It’s okay, bro. I forgive you.”

“Bring it in, bro?” Kuroo held open his arms. His true bro nodded solemnly, opening his own arms to engage in the manly exchange of friendship, a bro hug to end all bro hugs, heavy slaps to the back that concluded the concerto of shouts and pounding footsteps against the tile floor. “It really is too bad, bro.”

“What is, bro?”

“That you fell right into my trap!”

Bokuto’s frantic shrieking as he tried to wiggle out of the headlock that he had been forced into pierced the air and it would’ve had the desired effect on an untrained ear, but Kuroo knew. He had trained and prepared over many years to be unphased by the absolute pterodactyl screeches that Bokuto was capable of producing.

“You fucked up my tattoo, you piece of shit,” Kuroo hissed, rubbing the knuckles of his free hand against Bokuto’s scalp, only making the piercer writhe in his grasp even more, pleas and apologies dripping from his tongue.

“Please! Please, I’m sorry! Just let me go,” he begged. “I’ll buy your lunch!”

“You owe me a lot more lunches than just one!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll buy your lunch for the rest of the week!”

It really was as simple as that. The promise of food was enough for Kuroo’s arm to release its hold around Bokuto. “You’re lucky that I’m so kind.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re so gracious,” Bokuto muttered, staring at his reflection in an effort to fix his hair that had been displaced from Kuroo’s ruthless assault on his head.

Kuroo released a hefty sigh as he sat back down on his stool, staring at the now mess of a tattoo. “Listen, man. I’m going to need a bit to figure out how to work Bokuto’s fine design skills into this, so just sit back and chill for a bit while I get some sketches going, okay? I don’t know, maybe Akaashi will let you do one of his sudoku puzzles. Go get some lunch, take a nap, beat Bokuto’s ass, I don’t really care. But, you’re going to have to give me a bit, cool?”

“You really should put a door to this room instead of just a curtain. You could keep a lot of pests out,” Tsukishima grumbles, sitting forward in the chair to lean his elbows on his knees.

Bokuto quickly turns around to give one of his not-at-all-terrifying glares, adding a loud, “Hey! I am not a pest!”

The blond snickered in response, a twisted smirk present on his lips. “Never said you were. But, now that you mention it, a door with a lock might be better.”

“Tsukki! Aren’t we supposed to be friends?”

“I don’t remember us being friends. I come to get tattoos, not hang out with you.”

“Yeah, so that’s why you sat around until we closed last time? To get tattoos? Nice try, Tsukki dude. You know you love us.”

“I’m going to get a coffee.” Tsukishima shakes his head, fending off the laughter and high-fives from the other two, securing their win in his lack of an objection.

“Bring me back a black coffee,” Akaashi’s voice calls from where he was sat at the front counter, his eyes never leaving his current puzzle.

Kuroo’s laugh fills the shop. “You’ve had like three cups already. Shouldn’t you drink, I don’t know, water?”

“There’s water in coffee.”

“Akaashi, I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count.”

“You’re bitching an awful lot today. I think you’re dehydrated. Maybe you should drink some water. Tsukishima, bring Kuroo back an ice water, will you?”

“Akaashi!”

“Make it two. He’s really dehydrated.”

“Two waters and a black coffee. Okay,” Tsukishima mutters, typing out the list on his phone. “I’ll be back.” There wasn’t even time for Bokuto to add in his request for a hot chocolate or for Kuroo to object to the order that was placed for him because Tsukishima was already leaving, the little silver bell jingling above the door being the only noticeable sign of his departure.

And the time should’ve passed normally. Everyone had busied themselves with their own work. Akaashi placed orders for new jewelry, more inks, new needles and gloves, everything that possibly could’ve been needed. Bokuto’s next appointment for the day had come in, the quiet sounds of his voice as he soothed his client’s nerves resonating through the shop.

“We’re going to do three deep breaths, okay? You’ll feel a little pinch on the third and some pressure as I put the jewelry in. Ready? One . . .”

It was the jingle of the bell, the signal that should have signaled Tsukishima’s return, that pulled heads away from tasks and it was Akaashi’s steady, “Welcome to Kink. How can I help you?” that had Kuroo’s head snapping away from his sketchbook.

“Stop calling it Kink! You know it’s K dot Ink, you bastard!”

There was a murmur of a voice that was unrecognizable before Akaashi spoke up again. “I’m sorry. He’s busy right now preparing work for another client. Can I take a message? I’ll pass it along to him once he’s free. Excuse me- Excuse me! You can’t go back there without an appointment! Bokuto!”

Akaashi really thought that Bokuto’s large stature coming to block your path, still gloved up from his current client, would’ve deterred you, but you simply shouldered past him, a white-knuckled grip on a small black binder. You stopped in front of him, the tattoo artist whose work you had admired on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook. The one who drove you to want to pick up the trade yourself. The one who was known for turning potential apprentices away at the door without so much as humoring them with a glance at their portfolio.

It was the binder slamming down on his table, sending pens scattering across the floor that finally forced those amber eyes up in your direction, unamusement painted over his features.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Y/N. I’m your new apprentice.”

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yxstxrdrxxm-a · 10 months ago

Text

SYNOPSIS: Tattooing is a work of art. Though, he definitely saw that it can also be used as more than an art medium itself.

TW/s: yandere behavior, abstract/drabble writing, protective Xiao, he’s a dumbass but its okay, nsfw tws include targeted by the dark web, graphic depictions of violence, near abduction, stalking + sexual harassment. Please proceed with caution.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day! It would seem that today just isn't working out for you, is it, miss Ana? Well, never fear! I’m sure our lovely tattoo artist has something to help you with that… Right?

“You’re back.”

That was the first thing that Ana heard from her tattoo artist, Xiao, speak at 1 in the afternoon— a weird time, considering he wasn’t aware she had an appointment booked with him.

“Are you here for a tattoo?” he asked her, making her shake her head. Carrying the food she bought for him, he placed it on the counter, noting the small shift of expression on his face as he caught a whiff of something faintly sweet in the packaging.

“No, but I’m sure you’ve been working for hours on end,” she said, tapping on top of the package. “Here, eat up. I made sure to buy almond tofu for you.”

Now, for those who may be wondering, just how can the reclusive tattoo artist be with a date that’s the clear opposite of his personality?

It was a long story, which started from the very beginning when they matched up in the app.

Xiao isn’t the type to choose anyone on a whim. He has standards, and for him, many others failed to fit those standards. It was also obvious when he saw Ana’s, but instead of scrolling past and ignoring her, he took his time to look into what she wrote. He didn’t want to write her off just yet.

The next thing he knew, he swiped right with her and began to talk to her in the app.

Their conversation topics were all random at first: general get to know questions, their experiences, and even bits of what the two like. The two clicked on what they both liked listening to, which artists they enjoy the most, and even a few preferences for both to tune into. He did suggest a few that lean into crime podcasts, since he tends to listen to them often while he worked on tattooing his clients. Perhaps it was a strange preference, but she didn’t see it that way.

It wasn’t even long until they began to discuss matters in seeing each other in person, and the first time was because of a tattoo appointment she wanted on her arm.

“So, you want this tattoo placed… Here. Am I right?” “Mhm. Do you think you can do it? My friends had said that you were a good tattoo artist, so I wanted to be sure that it’s something you can do.”

The two were sitting at his office as Xiao was looking at the image, examining the tattoo design she wanted him to put on her. The design wasn’t all that complicated, but he knew he could add something to make it pop out easily, and especially with the detailing of her tattoo choice.

“... I can,” he answered, closing the folder as he faced her again. “However, you must pay upfront. I need to get the materials and equipment needed in our next appointment for this type of tattoo on Friday.”

He watched her nod as she handed him the payment, his hand drifting over to grab it and check how much she paid. It was enough for what she wanted, with an additional $20. Raising an eyebrow, he looked over at her and grabbed it, handing it back to his client.

“No need to give me extra,” he told her, sighing. “It’ll be a waste.”

“Oh? Well…”

He could already hear what she planned on telling him. He should take it anyway as she felt bad, or that it’s not right to not tip someone for their services, or—

“... I’ll take it back, then. Thank you again, Xiao. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

—!

Xiao seemed to be caught off-guard at the turn it took, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second, but it left as quickly as it did. Regaining his composure, he nodded and simply stood up to lead her out of the shop.

“If you need anything from me, you know my number,” he told her, his amber eyes shifting away for a moment. “... And if you want to go on a date, call me.”

It was strange. He’s not used to romance, and Zhongli had all but taught him how. He wanted to say that he had the confidence like that old man has, but he’s still learning. And Gods, he’s unable to even comprehend how social interaction and cues work.

Still, he did hear her laugh and feel a gentle warmth on his shoulder.

It felt nice.

“Of course! For now, I need to go and meet my friends this afternoon. Goodbye, Xiao.”

As the warmth left his shoulder, he finally raised his head to watch the lady exit, his eyes drifting to her while he recalled the expression she wore in front of him.

Such a gentle smile, unwavering and confident. He had always admired those who could do it without a single moment of hesitation, and sometimes, he found himself loathing that he couldn’t do the same. To be able to smile and look onwards, like nothing was bothering them in the first place.

He sighed and raised a hand to sift through his hair. The bitter feeling rising in him was something he disliked, but he couldn’t bring himself to blame it on her.

It was their first meeting, and it was one that Xiao remembered well.

How ironic, considering the next ones were as eventful as the first, if not even more than anything he’s endured.

The second time this happened was when he was on one of the first few dates with Ana. The two were surprisingly able to her friends commenting on how she found someone and kept it a secret from them.

He didn't like to make their relationship known, and there was a good reason why— he hated to have them find out he has someone he tolerated better than others.

Even if it was just a simple drunkard. Or two.

Point is, it happened. While Xiao was dealing with her friends asking him about his occupation, he caught wind of Ana getting involved and being harassed by one of the older men that are obviously wasted. She was trying to tell them to stop bothering her, but it seems they weren't paying much attention and even touched her in areas that can warrant sexual harassment.

“C'mon, pretty girl, why don't—”

“Move. She's my fiance.”

The drunkard looked over at Xiao, his eyes narrowed as he noticed that he was one of the clients he tattooed years ago. He scowled at the sorry state he was in— the man had a job as a republican, but one too many scandals led him jobless.

Hmph. I'm glad I managed to tattoo him with that before then.

“Yours? Pfft, do you have anything that makes her yours, little boy?”

Xiao scoffed.

“That ring she's wearing. I gave that to her.”

Complete and utter lie, he knows Ana had it since the day they met. Though, the ring was placed on her ring finger…

“You're harassing my girl. If you don't move, I'll get security,” he warned, walking closer to Ana to gently hold her hand. “And you wouldn't like getting kicked out again, would you?”

The ex-republican scoffed but he slunk away, and the two watched as the others jeered and called out to the republican figure for what he's done.

How annoying.

“I didn't know you'd say that out of all things.”

Xiao's head whipped towards Ana. It was clear from the way she said it that it was meant to be seen as light-hearted, but from the tense moment they had, he was struggling to process it.

…

He scoffed and let her hand go.

“He won't back out otherwise.”

And he knew he wouldn't. No one would.

“How many people have you tattooed with that mark?”

“I don't know.”

“Oh, but you do. People tell me that the victims went to you to get tattooed and died after a few days!”

“Sounds like a load of bullshit.”

Xiao isn't fond of dealing with people. He didn't even bother hiding that fact, since he disliked meaningless drivel with some of them. What he hates is when they become overconfident with knowing what he didn't.

It was a big deal to them, but to the artist, he found it more of a joke. An impractical, unfunny joke. He'd rather listen to one of his co workers explain it and ruin it than this.

“A load of— listen to me, sir,” he spat, jabbing at his chest. It would've been intimidating if Xiao didn't think it was a bit childish, “I work with the agency. We're trying to figure out what the hell is happening, and if you don't say shit, I'll tell them you're that famed serial killer going on the loose!”

…

“Seriously?”

Xiao sighed.

Such is the way of being an idiot, he thinks. It's no wonder I don't bother tattooing people on a walk-in appointment.

“Wh— are you doubting my credibility?!”

“Not when you're harassing me.”

Watching him get annoyed, he saw the man out, watching as a certain someone came to the shop. Seeing the man storm off, he watched Ana raise her eyebrow at Xiao; a silent question, it seems.

What happened? He can read from her expression. Though, this made Xiao sigh and turn his head to the shop.

Come inside. That is what he was trying to say by his body language.

And she did.

It wasn't long until the two were talking about the incident: Ana had to hear Xiao explain briefly of the accusations he's given, what he replied due to the lack of evidence, and the childish fit that the reporter had to leave.

Still, that looming threat was never something he can let go of, nor he can't stop pondering about. Maybe it's just him, but there have been moments when that came to light.

… Or nearly, anyway.

“I see… Well, they're definitely too nosy for their own good.”

“Mhm,” he answered, cleaning up the pen he used for tattooing. “Anyway, are you here for your appointment?”

“Oh! Yes, I am. I want you to tattoo my arm.”

Retrieving the paper detailing her tattoo, she handed it to him. Examining what it looks, he simply raised an eyebrow.

Granted, the tattoo is simplistic— he can make do with outlining the bird like it was a constellation. It wasn't something he would suck at. However, the bird she chose was a phoenix.

Interesting metaphor. Though, he's simply curious on what drove her to choose such an interesting thing to be on her arm.

“... Hm. Alright. I can do it.”

Placing it down, he began to prepare the tools and lead her to take a seat on the chair. Pulling on the lever, he adjusted it so that she was facing up and he pulled up the arm that she wanted it on.

It wasn't long until the soft thrumming of the tattoo gun echoed as he worked on the tattoo, following each and every step of the stencil down to its smallest details. Sure, Ana and him conversed while he worked, but he remained silent to focus on doing the tattoo.

Silence was a comfortable thing for him, and sometimes, he can see it be a comfortable thing for her, too.

It did take hours until he was done with the tattoo, and although he had half of his mind to add that mark, he added something else that’s tied to him. Right by the wing had 保护 written on it, each line and curve made as accurately as one could with writing a different language.

It was different from the ones he’d do. And he made sure to keep it that way.

“There. It’s done.”

He observed how Ana’s eyes would trail over at the tattoo, moving as she examined it in great detail. He was one of the best tattoo artists she could ever find, but he knew she saw that print on the wing, too.

It was just a relief that she didn’t bother to ask.

“Since it’s your first time getting a tattoo, you can have this,” he added, grabbing a bag full of supplies with an addition he left there for her. “It’ll help when your skin gets irritated with the ink. Others had that happen to them.”

“Really? Well, I’ll use them if that happens.”

“Good.”

His amber eyes flickered from the tattoo gun and towards the bag, catching the gleam of turquoise peeking from inside.

It was convenient that he placed that thing in her bag.

Now, he had an even bigger reason to do what he had to do to those that dare to mess with what’s his.

“I didn’t know you’d come back to stalk her,” the tattoo artist commented coldly, his heels digging into the wound on the reporter’s side. “I’m surprised. Seems like you have the audacity to try again to ‘frame’ me yourself.”

He hardly cared for the amount of blood he spilt. For the tattoo artist, having to make someone be worried in his shop was more than enough to gun for the culprit.

“Tell me. Were you going to abduct her?”

The reporter had the audacity to laugh at his face, the pain sending his mind to overdrive. Scowling, he dug in deeper, feeling his patience wear thin. He hated to delay what could hurt his lo— friend, he had to correct himself. He didn’t want those people to get to her.

“W-What’s it to you? I thought—”

“I’m not involved, but that’s my friend, you garbage.”

With another dig at the wound and his gun loaded, he aimed it at his other leg. He was already sure that she would wind herself in danger because of what he’s done, so he needed to be swift if he wanted to reach Ana.

He can’t risk losing her. Not to those bastards.

“I’ll ask again. Were you going to abduct her, you vile being?”

Much to his displeasure, the reporter laughed again. Although, he can tell that he wasn’t in the right mind. The expression he wore simply reminded him of those bitter memories he had hid all those years ago in his time at Enkanomiya, and he loathed to see it on another person.

Heaven knows what drove him like this, but he had done something immoral. He needed to do this in return.

…

Yes. He needs to. She’ll die if he doesn’t.

“... Hmph. I suppose you’re no talk and bite.”

Click. BANG.

…

Xiao could vaguely hear the gunshot ring as blood began to pour out onto the pavement, but this time, he felt no guilt for his actions. He knew it was bad, but he could hardly care about what’s on his mind.

Turning around, he grabbed his phone and contacted Ana’s number. He needed to be able to speak to her. He needed to.

…

It rang once.

It rang twice.

It rang far more than that. It continued to ring and ring, amping up Xiao’s worry the longer she didn’t take the call.

And after God knows how long, he heard it click.

“Xiao?”

… She’s fine.

“... Did I wake you up?” he asked her on the phone, his voice lowering its usual volume— possibly due to his relief. “I thought you’d be awake.”

“Mm… Almost, but yeah,” he heard her yawn. “I was… Looking for that guy. Then I fell asleep for, uh… an hour or something.”

…

“Has anyone entered the house?”

“... No. I’m fine. I had it locked, like you told me to.”

Good.

“Say, you sound panicked—”

“I’m fine,” he told her, cutting her off. With a sigh, he looked at the body, then at the phone. “Anyway, I’ll… Leave you alone for the night. I have a few things I need to take care of.”

He’d have to ‘clean’ things up. He can’t let her see it.

No one can ever see the crime he's done.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

#💌 ;; message delivery #💌 ;; from: xiao #💌 ;; to: yandere-romanticaa #💌 ;; promising letter: one last call #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere gi #genshin impact #genshin #gi #yandere xiao #yandere #yandere writing #yandere text #male yandere #xiao #genshin impact xiao #genshin xiao

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