#and i was putting different studs in my ears. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saturnzlv · 13 days ago

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tongue tied

— parings: todoroki touya x reader

— notes: mature language & suggestive content.

— synopsis: when you go and get a tongue piercing

you have a good few piercings in your ears decorated with dangly jewelry and small hoops and studs, but the urge to drive a needle through more skin and have even more piercings gnaws at your chest. maybe you’re an addict for the adrenaline rush of the needle, but you simply tell yourself that everyone has that urge.

so you make an appointment which lands you at some grungy piercing/tattoo shop in the middle of the city nestled between two taller buildings. the interior has an alternative vibe—you’re pretty sure you can recognize the english vocals from the band she wants revenge—and the workers all seem to be acquainted with hair dye, or sick earring stacks, or tattoos.

“excuse me?” you call as you reach the front desk.

a teenager with unruly blonde hair and a few streaks of bubblegum pink glances up from her phone. a grin flashes across her features, and you notice she’s got her smiley done. “oh, you’re cute!” she exclaims. “got an appointment or is it a walk-in?”

you glance down at your phone where the confirmation email is displayed. “an appointment at 3:30pm with dabi,” you tell her, pocketing your phone.

she nods and slides over a sheet of paper for you to fill out. at the final signature marking you jot down, the girl calls for a “touya-kun,” and a young adult with striking tattoos and multiple golden piercings peers around the corner. his hair is dyed black, but white strands peek through at his roots.

“you’re my 3:30?” he asks, and his voice makes you weak at the knees. you silently thank yourself for eating lunch prior to the drive.

once you confirm, touya gestures for you to follow him towards the more secluded part of the shop, and you follow. artwork is hung along the brick walls, and the lighting is surprisingly dim. you don’t question it as you enter a small room towards the back and sit down on the piercing bed.

“tongue piercing, right?” touya says, glancing at you as he wheels over a small table with packaged piercing needles, alcohol, paper towels, and a long, straight barbell.

“yeah,” you reply with a curt nod, gaze falling on the biotene mouthwash he’s pouring into a small cup. “thought i should expand to facial and oral piercings.”

“tongue’s a little tricky for the healing process.”

he turns and hands the small cup over; you take it from his hands and swish it around for a moment before spitting it back in the cup. once he tosses it, he puts on latex gloves and picks up the torn paper towels he set out.

“open your mouth,” touya instructs, and you obey.

for a moment, you wonder if you should close your eyes or look away as he wraps the piece of paper towel over your bottom lip. you curse to yourself as you're drawn to just staring at him, specifically his pretty blue eyes and those long lashes that frame them. he’s got triple nostril piercings in small, gold studs, and gold dahlia’s and snakebites. beneath the messy fringe of black strands, you can see golden eyebrow piercings (one in each brow).

as he tells you to stick out your tongue as far as you can, you do, and he examines the veins running along the underside of your tongue.

“you’ve got perfect anatomy for this kind of thing,” he says, drying off the saliva from your tongue with a paper towel.

you reply with a small hum at the back of your throat, almost a short laugh, and the corners of his lips curl just a little.

“you do your research?” he asks.

you make an ‘uh-huh’ noise in confirmation. he dots the center of your tongue with a blue disposable pen.

“you can put your tongue back in,” he says, and you do just that. with your attention following his every movement, he continues and says, “you know to avoid smoking, oral sex, and most dairy products, and straws?”

“at least five different websites say the same thing.”

he chuckles softly at your response, and you can’t help but feel a little proud that you caused that pretty sound to elicit from him. “so your partner wouldn’t mind the no oral sex?” touya says a little abruptly.

“don’t got one,” you reply.

there’s a small hum in response from him. touya turns the conversation back to the piercing at hand, a packaged sterile needle between his forefinger and thumb. he gives a brief rundown of the process before telling you to stick out your tongue once more.

“take a deep breath in for me.“ right as you inhale, he drives the hollow needle through the center of your tongue. your brows furrow, eyes falling shut for a second. “and exhale.”

lifting your gaze to your piercer, you see how he has the silver barbell in his gloved hands. “take another breath.” he slides the barbell into the needle and swaps the items, discarding the needle onto the table. “doin’ great for me, sweetheart,” he says as he twists the ball tight on the barbell. you silently curse in your head at how his tone and stupid pet name for you made the adrenaline rush spike.

“there you go,” touya says, letting you bring your tongue back into your mouth after removing the paper towel on your bottom lip and cleaning up any saliva from your lip or chin for you. you glance at him then to the handheld mirror he holds out for you. “how’s it look?”

looking at your reflection and sticking out your tongue, the barbell shines right in the middle. there’s a bit of blood and pen ink staining the muscle where the barbell disappears into, but all those websites and articles assured you it’s normal.

“as expected,” you reply, and there’s a slight lisp in your words. “thank you.”

“just doin’ my job.” he sets the handheld mirror down on the countertop along the wall, then pulls off the gloves. “in two to four weeks, the swelling should be gone, and i can downsize it for you. soft stuff like smoothies, jello, and soup will be best to eat the first couple days, then you can add in more solid foods.”

touya cleans up his area and supplies as you hop off the bed. he walks up to the door and gestures for you to head out of the room before him.

“will it be healed by then?” you asked.

“most likely,” he says. “tongue piercings have a pretty quick healing time.”

you nod softly, walking down the hall to the entrance of the shop. “so i can test out the smoking and oral by the time you downsize it for me?” there’s a slight raise in his brows as the aloof expression he wears shifts to one of more surprise.

that day, you leave the shop with a new piercing, about ¥10,000 gone from your pockets, and a new contact added to your phone.

#touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya x reader #dabi x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #mha dabi #mha touya #bnha x reader #mha x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi #🪐 sat’s writings

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taylorswiftstyle · 5 months ago

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MTV Video Music Awards | September 11, 2024

Dior Resort 2025 Lorraine Schwartz earrings Stuart Weitzman ‘Ultrastuart Maverick Leather Boots’ - $1,550.00

Dior’s latest cruise collection was an ode to Scotland and the house’s first runway show held there in 7 decades. Creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri said of her inspiration, “Scotland is an important reference in the fashion world and I wanted to interpret it in a different way. For my generation, it’s so associated with punk.” The result was an offering full of voluminous skirts, dramatically cinched dresses, and hourglass jackets rendered in historically accurate tartans and, indeed, set off with certain punk sensibilities thanks to studded leather accessories and clompy buckled boots.

The VMA dress code typically leans towards the wacky and the outrageous. Hence why Taylor has felt comfortable appearing in alphagetti soup baby onesies (aka The Incident, circa 2014). I’ll put it on record again and again that I may pull a face at that look (and still do, a decade later) but I will always appreciate a risk (relative to the wearer). Fashion should be fun!

The collection filters Scotland’s most historic women into its fabrics. Namely, Mary Queen of Scots: a fiery Sagittarius woman I’d like to think Taylor might feel kinship with. During her years of imprisonment in England by QEI, Mary would insert veiled - often political - symbols into her embroidery. At one point even the phrase, "In my end lies my beginning" was embroidered into her state's clothes. Doesn’t that feel, “In the death of her reputation, she felt truly alive”?

In his review of this Dior runway, Mark Holgate for Vogue described the collection as one that “drew on the geopolitics of fabric[s …] and the way [Mary] gave political commentary through her embroideries.” He described the series as full of “defiant beauty and an equally defiant energy. It felt uncompromising. But then maybe women can’t afford to be anything but that, especially now.” If a possible connect, I admire this evocation in the wake of Taylor’s major political endorsement. Especially given Chiuri worked with the iconic Harris Tweeds for their artisan, loomed wool. This teed her up nicely for an onstage call to action to remind viewers to register to vote.

All-in, this felt like a cohesive night of looks to underpin TTPD’s aesthetic. The runway’s interplay of proportions and bustier-like top are very TTPD - sensual, emboldened, playing with what to reveal and what to hide. A look that’s dark academia adjacent.

I do find the biker gloves (also by Dior) confusing and I’m searching for insight on their ‘why’. At the Grammys, I could buy into the ‘Albatross’ reference in her black elbow-length gloves. These? I’m still trying to make sense of. A straitjacket allusion, perhaps? Were I to make some styling tweaks, I would have removed the gloves, opted for the coordinating tartan shorts from the runway, and changed the boots out to an equally tall but caged style to tie into the patterned effect of the ensemble.

Photo by Dimitrios Kambouris via Getty Images

#taylor swift #award #dress #accessory #shorts #jewelry #shoe #dior #stuart weitzman #lorraine schwartz #september 2024 #mtv vma

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watchyourbuck · 8 months ago

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The thing about Tommy is that he’s very pretty. Everything about him is intoxicatingly attractive, and no matter where they go, people follow. Men, particularly.

Buck isn’t necessarily the jealous type. He’s had his fair share of protecting ex girlfriends from creeps and dudes who won’t back off, but this is different. This feels like a constant, extremely symptomatic migraine.

Of course girls throw themselves at him, but the mere fact that they have no chance makes it less angering. It’s the studs, and the twinks, and the huge men who put their hands on his man. That cup his ass almost as a greeting gesture. That play with his hair, and whisper in his ear.

And Tommy isn’t stupid. He knows he’s being flirted with, but since he could never have eyes for anyone who isn’t Buck, he doesn’t see the need to be rude. So he keeps it at ‘No, thank you’’s, and polite, refusing smiles. And yes, that’s yet another one of the qualities Buck loves about him. Because he doesn’t like violence. But then again, it fires up the unwavering possessiveness brewing in the pit of his stomach.

So Buck’s gotten creative. Now that they’re officially a couple, and go out on dates every weekend — to different places, if he might add —, he’s had to get handy with the way he lets people know Tommy’s his.

He orders with him at the bar, makes sure to say ‘my boyfriend’ and strategically places his hands on parts of Tommy’s body that would get him punched if they weren’t together. It works, for the most part.

But there’s always that one guy who can’t take a hint.

“You’re like a Greek god,” he whispers and Buck rolls his eyes. “Greek gods shouldn’t be alone.”

It’s a twenty-something year old dude that looks like he’s missing a college class. He’s wearing a tank top and eyeliner and he’s about a second away from earning himself all of Buck’s un-contained rage.

“I’m not alone,” Tommy says, pointing at him, and god bless his heart. “This is my partner.”

Buck bends forward a bit to wave enthusiastically, but it comes out bitchy. He’s almost sorry but then the guy barely acknowledges him, putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and rubbing circles on the exposed skin. Tommy’s hand tightens on his hip, keeping him still.

“You know, I’m very flexible,” the guy says and Buck is currently making a deal with god to grant him patience. “I could show you just how much.”

“Oh, you’re not showing him anything,” Buck barks, right from over Tommy’s head. If he has to get on his tippy toes to do that, well, the other guy doesn’t have to know.

“Evan,” Tommy warns, but it’s endearing, it carries no threat. He turns his head to the kid and tilts it. “You should find a guy who’s interested. I’m not.”

Buck absolutely preens, a cocky smirk settling on his face. He’s about to claim victory when he notices the guy’s demeanor doesn’t change, and he actually steps closer. “That’s because you don’t know what you’re missing, daddy.”

Nope. A surge of something primal and almost maniac courses through his body, and before Tommy can do anything about it, Buck’s rounding him and taking the guy’s wrist and squeezing it. He’s shorter than Tommy but significantly bigger than this kid, so he towers over him easily. “Take your hands off him if you want to keep them.”

The kid’s face contorts in fear. “What’s your problem, dude!”

Buck laughs, his only point of connection to reality being Tommy’s hand on his belt loops, holding him in place. “My problem,” he says, his voice deeper, “is that you can’t seem to take no for an answer. He’s told you he’s not alone. So, back off before I make you.”

His eyes shift from Buck’s to Tommy’s, who Buck can only guess has a soft but unreadable expression on his face. When the kid isn’t defended by Tommy, he snags his hand back, scoffs and takes off.

Buck watches him until he loses him to the crowd, then lets out a big breath, closing his eyes momentarily. He turns to Tommy, expecting to find judgy or at least annoyed eyes. He doesn’t.

“Not that I wanna encourage you,” Tommy says, sitting on a stool to pull Buck closer, right between his legs. “But that was really hot.”

Buck huffs out a laugh but it’s vaguely one. “I’m just— he wouldn’t stop touching you. You’re, ugh, you’re—!”

Tommy tilts his head, chasing after Buck’s gaze when he looks to the side. “You can say it.”

Buck bites his lip and stares. How could he not, after all. “You’re mine,” de declares, definitive and on the verge of angry. “And I don’t like men touching what’s mine.”

And he knows. There’s a fine line between sexy possessive and psychopathically controlling, and he’s walking it like a rope between two buildings, but the look on Tommy’s face and the unmistakable sight of the front of his pants growing tighter doesn’t help him get off the high horse. “We can always make a scene,” Tommy shrugs, getting up again and cornering Buck against the bar.

Buck’s eyes darken, even through the pain on his tailbone. His arms surge forward to wrap around Tommy’s neck and bring him down. And if they do make a scene, if they do make out messily and desperately for everyone to see, then it’s truly not his problem what they think. As long as they know who Tommy belongs to.

#bucktommy #911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 tv show #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #911 on abc #911 season seven #911 season 7 #911 s7 #911 show #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #tevan #kinkley #bucktommy fic #tevan fic

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misseviehyde · 11 days ago

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UPCYCLED

Madeline was shocked when she opened the present from her daughter to find two sexy pearly hooped earrings nestled amongst the tissue paper.

The earrings seemed familiar somehow, yet she couldn't quite remember where she'd seen them before. A slight chill ran down her spine, almost a fear reaction, yet she couldn't say why.

Her daughter Katie smiled proudly as her Mom lifted them out of the box and eyed them suspiciously.

"They're not really my style darling," she whimpered.

"Exactly Mom. You need to try something different. You've become a total social outcast since Dad left. You dress like an eighty year old spinster, spend all your time online or in front of the TV. You need to get back out there."

Madeline lowered her head and choked a sob. Her daughter was right. She was an overweight loser who spent all her time at work or sat at home wrapped up in a cardigan reading by the fire or watching trash TV. She was a total dork. Her brief relationship with Katie's Dad hadn't even lasted that long. He'd left her for his secretary, a hot high maintenence bitch who could give him what she never could.

She hadn't even had sex in eleven years!

Katie looked at her Mom... the holes in her sweater, the lack of makeup, the grey in her hair, the overweight tummy and felt pity. She did love her Mom but Madeline was frustratingly introverted. Her Mom was something of a disappointment.

Katie had been shocked and surprised to find the old hoopsd earrings in a box in one of her Mom's drawers. They were sexy and hot, so unlike anything she'd expect her Mom to own. She'd taken them to a jewellers and had them upgraded. She hoped the upcycled earrings reminded her Mom of a time when she was young. Maybe it would bring a spark back.

What Katie didn't know though was that these earrings were NOT Madelines.

Long ago, nearly twenty years ago now, they had belonged to Madeline's bully Ashley. The traumatised Madeline had stolen them as an act of rebellion and daring, keeping them as a reminder of how cruel and evil some girls could be. Ashley had been the epitome of a cruel and dominant Alpha Girl. She had been the most popular girl at school and had made Madeline's life a living Hell. That was why she had felt instinctive fear when she saw the earrings.

"Why don't you try them on Mom?" asked Katie as Madeline looked at the hoops suspiciously. There was something not quite right here, but she also felt a dark temptation to put on the earrings. With a shiver she took out her own simple studs and slid in the bitchy hoops.

They looked like something a rich bitch would wear and to Madeline's surprise she felt a surge of confidence and pride as she admired her new earrings in the mirror. Her back straightened a little and her posture became more confident.

"Wow Mom, you look great," smiled Katie.

"Yes I do don't I?" purred Madeline, ignoring her daughter. "I never imagined I could ever feel sexy again, but now I do. It makes me wish I could start over again. Be young and hot and popular again. Not that I was ever popular, but imagine if I had been?"

Madeline's lips twisted into a smile as she imagined herself as Katie's age... but hotter... worshipped by hunky boys and served by beta girls. Beta girls like Katie.

She shook her head causing the hoops to tinkle and came back to herself. "Thank you darling, I love them."

"You don't have to wear them if you don't want," smiled Katie.

"No... I want to wear them. I think I'll leave them in. They feel... good."

***

Madeline snarled as she tore through her wardrobe. It was two hours since her daughter had left and she had been in a frenzy since then.

These clothes she was wearing felt pathetic, but nothing in her wardrobe suited her either. She tipped over her makeup table. Pathetic too. No wonder her husband had left her.

She needed fashion, she needed expensive makeup. She needed to look hot.

Madeline staggered to the mirror. Her body was burning, her brow feverish. She felt like she was on fire, but it felt good. It felt like all the weakness inside her was burning up. It felt like she was becoming stronger and more powerful.

"Yesssss," she hissed as she gazed at her reflection. Could it be? Her skin looked younger, her waist thinner. Surely it wasn't possible but it almost looked like she was... transforming?

She reached up and touched the earrings. They tingled and in that moment she remembered. "These... these are Ashley's earrings."

She nearly ripped them out in fear and disgust... but another part of her suddenly thrilled at the thought. These were HER earrings now. Her foolish daughter had given them to her not even realising what they were.

Madeline groaned. These strange feelings, the changes to her body - they must be something to do with the bullies earrings. She should take them out now whilst she still had the strength to remove them.

Her hand wavered by her ear...

She moaned and a wicked smile lit her lips. Mmmmh, it was already too late. She wanted this so badly now...

She was going to become a bitch...

***

Madeline writhed on the floor in ecstasy. It was five hours now since she had put on the earrings. Her desire to remove them had completely faded an hour ago. She was damned and she didn't care. She welcomed the evil now flowing through her. She wanted to be completely remade.

She had stripped down to her underwear. Her once flabby body was drenched in sweat. Saggy skin had tightened and wrinkles vanished. Greying hair was now bright blonde and her ass was tight and round.

A demonic grin on her now young and pretty face, Madeline rubbed her pussy and screamed as she squirted again to drench the carpet with more of her juices.

"Fuck yes. Hahaha I can't wait to get FUCKED!"

Madeline?

No... she was no longer Madeline. She was Maddy now.

Maddy grinned as she imagined all the evil mean things she'd do now she was an eighteen year old bitch.

"Steal my daughters boyfriend, bully her and make her suffer... fuck YESSS!"

Maddy groaned as her already dripping pussy got even wetter. Long slutty fingernails decorated each finger now and she rubbed her sensitive clit, screaming as her warped mind filled her with pleasure.

Every inch of her was now built for narcissistic pleasure. She was a Goddess.

In her body, her soul had been warped and corrupted beyond recognition. Kindness and love were now alien emotions to this bitch. Selfishness and ego ruled Maddy's personality. She was now a spoiled brat who only cared about herself.

The earrings had corrupted her beyond recognition.

Maddy purred as she orgasmed again. She couldn't wait to go shopping.

***

"Hey loser," laughed Maddy as Katie walked into her apartment.

Her boyfriend was lying on the bed naked, drained and exhausted from the marathon fuck session he'd just had with Maddy. Seeing Katie, he blushed and slipped off to the bathroom.

"Who... who the fuck are you? What are you doing with Richard?" screamed Katie.

"Ohhh don't you recognise me dear? It's me... your Mommy. I'm still wearing those earrings you bought me. Isn't this what you wanted? Didn't you want your Mommy to be more outgoing and find a man?"

Backing away Katie screamed as Maddy leapt up and with superhuman strength lifted her up and pinned her against the wall.

"Madeline is gone. From now on you call me Maddy... or even better, Mistress. Your man is mine now and you are going to be my loyal beta servant."

"No! I won't let you..."

Katie screamed as Maddy suddenly jabbed something into her ear, then the other.

A pair of stud earrings marked with the symbol for beta.

"Oh you will. I bought these from the shop where you got these earrings improved. Turns out they make magic jewellery. Those Beta Studs won't take long to make you into my subservient slave."

Katie sobbed as she felt the fire drain from her. She could already feel a terrible temptation to serve Maddy growing within her.

"I bought ten more pairs of these beta earrings. You're going to help me pierce all your friends until they all worship me. What do you say?"

"Yes Mistress Maddy," groaned Katie as to her horror she felt an urge to worship and admire Maddy swell in her chest.

Yes... she had to serve. It would be hot to make others serve Maddy.

Clicking her fingers Maddy laughed as Richard walked back into the room.

"She's been neutralised just like I promised. Now if you don't want me to take out that stud earring I gave you, you better come here and fuck me again."

Richard grinned and bent Maddy over the bed whilst Katie watched happily subservient.

Yes... life was going to be better for everyone from now on. Maddy would make sure of it.

THE END

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #corruption #bully #earrings #hoops #evil bitch

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zaceouiswriting · 1 month ago

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The Football Stud: Fever

Character: Gabe x male reader, (mentioned) Nolan Halloway

Universe: Somewhere in Teen wolf

Warnings: Smut: hardcore, degradation, humiliation, feminization, mentioned non-con

Author's Note: Sorry for the late upload. I was going to post something for Christmas, but that's coming much later. I actually wanted to do something wholesome, but it turned into smut faster than I could see, and I lost interest in it, so I wrote a smutty half request instead. (Please don't ask about the logic; there is none) I hope you guys enjoy this one.

You felt uncomfortable even though it fit perfectly, and unfortunately, you had to admit that it didn't look bad on you as you admired yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“Are you coming or not?” Gabe’s deep voice bellowed authoritatively through the locker room, easily reaching your ear.

You swallowed nervously, not wanting to answer, as you knew he would be mad if you were honest. But you took a deep breath because you were even more afraid of his reaction if you didn't answer.

"I don't really feel comfortable showing-"

"Shut up and come out," he shouted, audibly annoyed, "so you can do literally the only thing a stupid fag like you is good for!"

It felt like he had just punched you right in the chest. You felt humiliated on so many levels, and yet you opened the bathroom door, which led straight into the changing room near the showers.

You would be in the locker room if you just walked around the corner. It had been nearly an hour since the football game ended, and the coach handed Gabe the keys to lock the room behind him. The only visible light was the static glow of the lamps in the room, as the sun had long since given way to the moon.

Head down, you rounded the corner with tiny steps. You didn't see Gabe right away, but you became very aware of him when you heard him whistle after you. The first time it happened, you felt exhilarated, even ecstatic.

There, Gabe sat comfortably on one of the benches against the wall. His body was now much more muscular, as he trained twice as much as he used to, but on his lips was the same superior, condescending smirk, still the same, yet so different.

"You look so fucking hot," he commented, beckoning you to come closer to him, which you did.

When you were in front of him, he ordered you to twirl. You saw his eyes darken with lust as he took another swig of his beer bottle. Technically, he wasn't old enough to drink yet, but the football team had some leeway, at least on university grounds.

He emptied his bottle, placed it safely under the bench, and then simply grabbed you by the waist and sat you on one of his legs.

“Look at this skirt,” he said, fascinated by the sight.

You had no idea where he got it, but right before the game, he gave you a backpack with a cheerleading uniform and something else you wouldn't even think about out of embarrassment. Still, you put on everything he gave you.

“Are you satisfied?” you asked, stuttering and uncertain.

“You can be fucking sure of that!” he boasted loudly. "And even more so if a certain slut had listened to me the first time and not made me wait so long!"

There was a danger gleaming in his eyes that you knew all too well. He'll punish you, force you to shout more than just his name, and treat you so roughly that you'll miss class again. Before starting, you knew you'd have to lie to the others again about all the bruises you'd come home with. Last time, your fraternity almost started a manhunt because they thought someone was forcing them on you, but you somehow managed to calm them down, even though you had to admit to some pretty dirty secrets of yours.

You felt his rough hand on your lower back, moving further down to your ass. Suddenly, you let out a yelp as the same big hand gave your behind a hearty squeeze.

“What a perky ass,” he mutters in a slightly slurred voice, “fuck!”

"Don't you want to sit on my lap, baby girl?" His lips were so close to your ear that you almost moaned reflexively. "I know a dirty slut like you would love to know how fucking hard you make me."

Before you knew it, he had pulled you onto his lap. Both his hands were on your waist as he vigorously ground your ass on his lap. You could feel his big cock getting hard and poking you through his tight football pants.

When you heard him moan softly, you felt the heat rise to your face; you had never heard him moan desperately like that before. Usually, he moans like a rutting bull as he relentlessly thrusts his cock into you, but this somehow felt much more intimate.

"Do I have to remind you what I am to you?" His voice, which had previously been filled with lust, was suddenly stern, even cold. You swallowed hard and couldn't answer. "Pretend you can't hear me?" His laugh was dry; you already knew he was done.

Without a word, he pushed you off his lap but held you up, standing in front of him. Just a second later, his large body overshadowed you, with his hands tightened around your waist once more.

"What a cute little girl," he murmurs into your hair, "So small and yet so disobedient."

Your blood ran cold. He seemed angry, even furious, but you didn't do anything that bad, right? But even if you argue with him, it won't help and will only worsen things.

He doesn't say another word. Instead, he wraps one arm around your waist and lifts you effortlessly. He carried you to some lockers in the middle of the room, sat you back down on the floor, and bent you forward slightly with his other hand while he told you in a barely whispered voice to hold on to the lockers for dear life.

You were already halfway gone from worry and desire—if you were a girl, you knew you would be soaked—now only pre-cum covered the surprise under your short skirt. You truly felt like a slut in that moment, just like Gabe had always told you. Even though you weren't entirely sure what would happen next, you knew you had to hide how much you were already enjoying it.

He traced his rough fingertips over your figure, dancing on your skin like a drunken wisp. By the time they landed on your skirt and took it in his hands, you felt him shudder. Fearing that something had happened, you turned your head only to see Gabe's sinister grin. When he caught your gaze, his intentions were more than clear.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl?”

There it was again. At first, you thought he was just maddened from drunkenness, but now it was clear. He was actually feminizing you. You should have known when he made you dress in a girl's cheerleading outfit.

As you were in thought, Gabe covered you completely with his body, pressing his head firmly into your nape, gently kissing your neck, and eliciting soft moans from your stunned body. His hands continued to explore the entire time, finding their way under your skirt and gently caressing your legs, but you were sure that this would be the only time he would be tender with you that night.

And as if you had summoned it, he ripped up your skirt and slapped your right butt cheek with so much force that it almost threw you flat against the locker, only for him to whistle as if nothing had happened.

"Bitch, you look good in lace!" Gabe slurred like the drunken stud he is, so needy and horny that it was hard to believe.

You didn't even know where he got it because the price tag was still on when you got it, and you almost fainted; it was so expensive that you knew he wanted to do this more often, or so you thought.

“I really can’t wait,” Gabe suddenly murmured as he leaned back in his standing position.

With a quick movement, he shifted the tiny piece of fabric that hid your hole to the side, circling it with his finger before attempting to enter it, only to be stopped as it had contracted too much. You could hear him swearing quietly, cursing you and your uselessness.

Before you knew it, Gabe had raised two fingers to your mouth and ordered you to wet them, as that was the only lube you would get.

Without hesitation, you took them between your lips, let your tongue dance on his long, salty, calloused fingers, and finally took them completely into your mouth, feeling them touch the back of your throat.

The second his fingers reached the back of your throat, all you heard was him cursing once again, angry that he didn't use your throat, even though he had trained it for so long not to gag, even when he shoved his huge cock all the way into your mouth with one sharp thrust.

You knew from the beginning that it would make him mad because you knew full well that deepthroating him was his favorite sensation, especially in a crowded university lecture hall.

Gabe only gave you about a minute before he pulled his finger out of your mouth and immediately, with a precision that a drunk man like him shouldn't have, slid his fingers inside your ass. You gritted your teeth, holding back the pain, knowing that Gabe hated it when you showed any emotion other than lust and desire for him.

Without even trying, this guy hit the spot that made your mind go blank for a second, and when you came back, you felt a pain in your forehead. You found yourself in direct contact with the metal side of the locker.

As his fingers aggressively penetrated your hole, a pain shot through your ass. But you didn't complain because that was all you would get before he took you at a pace so brutal that you'd thank God he'd even prepared you in any way, which was already something great of him, as it was something he didn't do all the time.

“That should be enough,” Gabe mumbled, something he probably didn’t even want to say out loud.

Suddenly, you feel him swaying from side to side, the alcohol clearly taking its effect. But he doesn't let that distract him and instead guides his cock, albeit with difficulty, to your hole.

Although you feared the brutal treatment you would receive, you could barely contain your anticipation of feeling him again. It had been a while, and your hole felt empty for quite a long time. As he circled your hole, you quickly became impatient. While you subtly tried to get his cock into you, all you got was a hard smack on your ass, which was glowing a bright red color at this point.

Gabe muttered under his breath, cursing you for being an impatient cockslut, a bitch that needed to be filled. Although it seemed odd to you that he was trying to feminize you, it did something deep inside you.

"You want this cock?" he asked smugly, his words becoming more slurred by the second. "I'll fill you up like the good little slut you are until your belly is full of my child!"

Without even waiting for an answer, he pushed his cock in and didn't stop, even when you felt it was getting too tight, but you knew it would fit, even if it hurt a little. So you bit your tongue and waited for the pain to subside instead of saying anything or even making a sound.

In one forceful motion, his hands wrapped painfully tightly around your hips, just under your skirt, so tight that it hurt, but you still didn't make a sound; he penetrated you.

Only when you finally felt his thick glans pressing against your prostate did you open your mouth, which was usually so large when he hadn't had anything to drink. This drew a long, intense moan from you, which, in turn, elicited a deep, sadistic chuckle from Gabe.

“That's the shit,” grunted Gabe, “Moan louder for me, bitch!”

As you felt another slap and his cock throbbing violently inside you, you were forced to give him exactly what he wanted. You gave him more, moaning sluttily and even going an octave higher than you thought possible, sounding almost like a real girl.

"God... fuck," he muttered quietly as his hands became a little more bearable. "That's my little girl, my good little slut!"

He even went so far as to pet your head, almost making you feel like he really cared about you. But the relentless pace of his thrusts told you otherwise. Although you wished things were different, you knew there would be nothing between you, nothing other than mind-blowing sex, that is.

Gabe's thrusts got even harder, his warm manhood burning so well in your hole, but the worst part for you was how precisely he hit your prostate each time. With every thrust deep into your bowels, barely visible on your stomach, he ripped your senses from their sockets again and again. It was almost torture, but you loved every second of it, feeling like you could fly, breathe underwater, and face the next day as if you had conquered it many times before.

At the limit of your senses, you felt one of his hands moving up your stomach to your pectoral muscles. He squeezes your slightly trained muscle, which elicits a satisfied grunt from him.

For a long moment, it was completely silent; nothing was said, and the only sounds echoing through the room were the rapid, rhythmic slapping of your skins and the animalistic noises Gabe made like the brute he was.

“I’m about to bust,” Gabe suddenly announced, although his breathing and voice were even.

You were speechless; he had never come so quickly and calmly, always out of breath, sweating like crazy. Now, he was none of that.

As announced, it took almost no time before a few thick jets of cum filled your insides with much-needed warmth.

Gabe didn't pull out as he usually would. Instead, you saw his hand on the locker wall next to your head as you returned to the plane of the living, his muscular body hard against your back, and his warm breath that smelled of beer and something fruity, maybe strawberries or something similar. Turning your head slightly, you saw him grinning smugly at you; your heart dropped into your skirt.

Suddenly, you felt something soft on your lips. You couldn't process the sight before you; Gabe was so close, his eyes closed and his sinful lips capturing yours in a gentle, warm embrace. It lasted only a fleeting moment, warm and completely unexpected.

“Such a good, pretty girl for daddy.”

Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red. You wanted to mock and belittle him for calling himself that, but you didn't. You felt warm and wanted for once. So you let it pass and looked away in embarrassment, but Gabe, with a gentleness you'd never experienced from him before, placed a finger around your chin and forced your head back without much effort.

"Don't look away, baby," he murmured against your lips before capturing them again.

This time, he didn't close his eyes, instead holding eye contact with a knowing glint in his eyes. But you couldn't hold the eye contact for long. You closed your eyes and melted in his embrace. Your tongues quickly entangled with his, clearly more dominant. He pulled you closer to him, both of his hands exploring the front of your body as if it belonged to him.

It wasn't until he separated the two of you that you realized you were no longer standing but sitting safely on Gabe's lap. He was now leaning comfortably against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, flexing his biceps the entire time, clearly visible even through his football uniform. You'd be lying if you didn't feel things you weren't too proud of.

"Now be a good little slut and ride me," he told you arrogantly. "I've made you cum three times already, and I only came once, so keep going, baby."

He massaged your upper body as if calming you down as he spoke. It worked somewhat, but as you tried to follow his orders, you realized something: your legs hurt too much to move. Panic rose in you, afraid of what would happen if he knew. So you tried your best and even put your hands on his thighs, using them as leverage to move yourself up. But your whole body felt heavy.

Before you knew it, your arms gave way, and you fell against Gabe's chest. You heard his angry breathing and felt his hot breath on your neck.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” you admitted sheepishly.

Suddenly, you felt a violent jolt and quickly found yourself on the cold floor. The skirt you had been given and the tight top were already worn out, even slightly torn, not to mention the lace underwear that was already crumpled and almost destroyed.

Gabe towered over you with his fists clenched. "You worthless bitch," he mutters, seemingly ready to dish out the worst punishment. But to your surprise, he just crouches down next to you. "I told you what will happen if you turn out to be worthless and unable to complete your one fucking job, you stupid whore!"

His voice was steady; none of the slurring you heard before was left as if he had never been drunk. Without hesitation, he spat in your face, stood back up, went to his backpack, and pulled out his phone.

Unable to move, you could only stare at him with wide eyes, horror coursing through your veins as you heard the disgusting words he used.

Just as you started to feel your legs again, the locker room door busted open. Loud laughter and energetic, indistinct conversations followed. The entire football team soon filled the room, but no one was looking at you as they greeted their quarterback. Gabe made pleasant conversation before folding his arms across his chest, not glancing in your direction once, just a small nod in your direction and more demeaning words.

When the team first looked at you, they were smug, calling you a needy slut who would even play a girl just to get some cock. Even though you felt bad, they had a point. But you still thought Gabe would say something in your defense, but he didn't.

Instead, even more horrible words came from him: He told his team that they could do whatever they wanted with you since you were useless to him now, but he wanted the cheerleading uniform and underwear back, even if they were in tatters.

You were too stunned, but when you saw Gabe, already changed and leaving, you stretched out your arm and begged him to take you with him. Instead, you only heard a scoff before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

As you were about to lower your hand, one of the boys took it with a wickedly grim grin. He gently stroked your hand, only to tell you to be a good slut to them because they weren't as generous as Gabe and would take drastic measures to make sure you did right by them.

Although you were disgusted and scared, you still nodded. You cried silently as you felt dozens of hands on you and someone supporting you. But when he was about to enter you, you screamed.

***

You woke up weakened, your body covered in a thick layer of sweat. Groaning in pain, you tried to find out where you were, only to find yourself in your fraternity bedroom.

“Thank God you’re awake,” you heard a gentle voice say.

You turned your head and smiled gently. "Nolan, what happened?"

Concerned, he touched your forehead, only to quickly pull away.

"You're not any better," he whispers lightly. "You fainted in one of your lectures, and our university doctor sent you back with Mark because you weren't so bad that you had to stay there. He did give him some medication for you, though."

You wanted to take the pills, but you couldn't move your body, just like in the locker room. Nolan quickly noticed this, put them in your mouth, and helped you drink some water.

You grimaced as the cold liquid ran down your throat, but then a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“Did something happen to Gabe or the football team?” you asked in a hoarse voice.

It was immediately obvious that Nolan was uncomfortable. You feared the worst and believed that your dream was actually reality.

"Gabe came over but left when he heard you were sick," Nolan told you. "I still can't believe you tolerate him taking advantage of you like that."

Smiling and relieved that what you had experienced, even though it felt real, was only a dream, you gently stroked Nolan's hand.

"I wish he loved me as much as I love him, but I'm content with how things are right now," you said slowly, even though your throat hurt. "As long as I'm in this fraternity, I get the best of both worlds: mind-numbing sex with the person I love while also being able to cuddle with you guys and do all the cute couple things without anyone being pressured to feel anything."

Nolan sat there stunned, never having thought about it like you did, but he realized they actually treated you like their partner. All the time outside of class and when you weren't getting fucked by Gabe, they spent with you and your fraternity, cuddling, watching movies, playing games, and going out. None of them even had partners; they were completely focused on you.

You smiled as you slowly fell back asleep but asked Nolan to take care of you. Unconsciously, you laid your head on his hand, causing Nolan to get stuck.

A few hours later, someone else opened your bedroom door.

"Is everything okay?" The new person asked but got no answer. When he walked in, he saw Nolan holding you in his arms. "Damn, I must be late," he commented quietly, chuckling as she walked back out and closed the door behind her. Cursing himself for letting Nolan out of his sight.

[Masterlist]

#x male reader #male reader #male reader imagine #teen wolf x male reader #teen wolf #gabe imagine #gabe x male reader #gabe imagines #gabe #smut #male reader smut #male reader imagines #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines

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zevrra · 4 months ago

Text

JJK.3

synopsis: random hc’s for the men of jjk; college/frat boy edition!

tags: 21(+) only, tw for drinking/being drunk, age gap, some aged up characters, modern au, college au, jjk headcanons, all sfw, short & sweet, ask box open, jjk x reader

creator’s notes: i plan to turn all of this into a multi-chapter series so give me some ideas for what the “mc”(reader) should be! or just overall drop some ideas for it in my ask box that would be cool :3

CHOSO—

forensics major with a minor in chemistry and music

only knows gojo, geto, and nanami through volleyball

supports the team solely bc his freshman brother, yuji, plays

is not in the frat but gets invited to every party

also because he's the best dj any of them know

doodles on himself with a pen

has all the piercings

his ears are decked out with mostly studs

has a right eyebrow piercing, bridge, septum, and snake bites

probably has his nipples pierced too (he lost a dare)

hangs out with geto so they can share nail polish when he paints his nails

is the quiet one at parties who's awkwardly sitting on the couch while he sips his drink

once he's drunk he's entirely different, way more open and talkative

would talk your ear off about music if you let him

or the several different ways blood can splatter and how it'll never look the same twice

is a LIGHT WEIGHT!!

sleeper build

is an alt/grunge boy through and through

is a drummer!

TOJI—

is the frat's “overseer” and the volleyball coach

is actually a decent coach but really he just got lucky to have a great team that makes him look better than he is

gets noise complaints all the time about the frat

does not care, he's at the parties too

is a horrible, horrible influence

probably acts more like a bouncer than anything

provides the alcohol

does not let a single soul under 21 in though

is the hot dad every girl wants

sweatpants and tight shirts all day everyday

has beef with gojo

only because gojo ends up damaging the house and getting into wayyy too much trouble

takes everyone out to eat after games, has too many beers, puts the tab solely on gojo and dips

is a very, very handsy drunk

has to be watched at parties when he gets too drunk cause he’ll hit on all the girls

NANAMI—

a business major with a minor in biology, hopes to open his own small time clinic one day

plays on the male volleyball team, is a middle blocker

works out all the time, has a schedule for everything

is known for his "dark academia" style

hates large parties

the only reason he's ever at a party is because he was dragged there by gojo and geto

you can find him in the other room petting the dog

doesn't drink a lot at parties, will maybe have one if he's in the mood

is the rightful dd!!

literally the only voice of reason

always gets you your fav food after parties when he knows you're a little tipsy

would 1,000% rather be home reading

if he ever gets drunk, has to be inside his own home

he's a sleepy, "admits to everything" drunk

you've strictly forbidden gojo from being anywhere near nanami when he's drunk

probably in charge of all snacks for any party

considers gojo a friend but not a friend you’d invite to your wedding

would invite choso to the wedding though

is def saving himself for “the one”

GETO—

double major in psychology & philosophy, has a minor in art(sculpting)

doesn't do any sports but goes to every one of his friend's volleyball games

he and gojo 100% have matching tongue piercings

contacts during the day, wears reading glasses at night

wears nothing but baggy, oversized clothes

def has a streetwear aesthetic

sleeper build 2.0

is an orphan but was adopted into a very well off family

got into college solely on scholarships though

has known, and been best friends, with gojo since childhood

can drink gallos of alcohol and hardly feel tipsy at all like he’s a heavy weight!!

can out drink anyone, even toji

a flirty, flirty drunk

bi king!!!

participated in an orgy once

has the highest body count out of all the men (besides toji ofc)

an instigator especially when it comes to gojo

gojo and him are in charge of inviting people to the parties

also has his nipples pierced but no one knows, not even gojo

covered in tattoos, def has a throat tattoo along with full sleeves and even some on his thighs

him and choso hang out just to paint their nails and drink tea together!!

GOJO—

majors in astrophysics, minors in astromath

plays on the same team as nanami, is a setter/spiker combo

still is addicted t to sweets

has to have sweets to study

is 50% jock and 50% nerd

thinks math and science is so cool

has a matching tongue ring with geto

has a style that screams "old money" (he def came from old money tho)

def think he could pull a “surfer” style off too

a nepo baby too

a horrible influence especially when he’s drunk

“I’ll give you $20 to break this antique vase.”

when he gets drunk-drunk he is just as flirty as geto but is a little more shy

tipsy gojo, talkative, flirty, comedian!! runs all over the place, makes friends easily

absolutely drunk gojo, timid, gets quiet and watches everything and everyone, would 100% tell you in a quiet voice that he loves you before he HIDES

not a light weight at all he just constantly goes over his limit to end up black out drunk

turns bright, bright red as soon as alcohol hits his system

questioning bi!! (experimented with geto once when they were younger)

lost a dare and had to get a horrible tattoo on his ass

the tattoo is squid doodle from spongebob but really badly drawn because a friend def did it

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janeyseymour · 1 year ago

Note

hiii!! i love your writing and i hope you’re doing well <3 i was hoping to request a melissa x reader with “causal” work crush between the two of them. reader is a very put together teacher during school hours but a trendy aesthetic person off campus. mel comes across reader at the grocery store and is astonished at the revealing alternative style and sexy tattoos. reader gets super nervous and shy once mel teasingly approaches. no one at work has ever seen her like this but especially not her crush melissa

oh wow, this one... nice. written as i procrastinate cleaning my house!

Personal and Professional

wc: ~2.4k

You grew up hearing from both of your parents that you should never mix the personal with the professional. So you compartmentalize. You’ve always done it. You kept school life away from home life when you could, and now you keep your work life away from your home life. That’s not to say that you aren’t friends with your coworkers at school. It’s just that it’s much easier to keep professional Y/N and personal Y/N separate.

And the personal and professional you are two entirely different people.

You see, at school, you’re ��Miss Y/N’. You keep it all together. You’re buttoned up, you’re conservative in your clothing style, and you strive to maintain that aura of professionalism that you see coming off of people like Barbara Howard. You’re pretty damn good at it too. You’re kind, you allow your coworkers to see small bits of your home life (“Oh, I’ll probably just do some grocery shopping before laying on my couch for the entirety of the weekend… maybe I’ll go to the gym,” is your usual response when they ask what you’re doing over the weekend), and the teachers have all come to respect you once you settled into your position.

But once the school hours are over and you can let your hair down, both figuratively and metaphorically, you trade out your blouse and sweater or blazer for more form-fitting and revealing shirts, pants that aren’t slacks, and you change your flats to your doc martens that you’ve been rocking since the eleventh grade. You take out the clear stud and put in your nose ring, and exchange earrings different from the delicate hoops you wear to school. Your multiple tattoos show in your street clothes, and you love it.

You’re not entirely sure how your coworkers would feel if they knew that this was how you presented yourself outside of the school, but it doesn’t matter. They’re so used to seeing you all done up to teach that even if they did see you outside of school, they probably wouldn’t recognize you. You sure as hell wouldn’t go out of your way to say hello if you saw one of them outside of campus.

But then things start to change about six months into working at Abbott.

Shit. You have a thing for one of your coworkers- Melissa Schemmenti to be exact. It’s a very casual and silly thing the two of you have going on, really. She flirts with you, you flirt with her; it’s all in good fun. You know that you’ll never act on it though because you keep your many lives as far away from each other as possible, even going as far as grocery shopping a few streets over from where you know most of your coworkers go in order to not run into them. You’ve never had an issue with running into anyone outside of the school anyway- why would that change?

“What are your plans for the weekend, hot stuff?” Melissa flirts with you while you’re eating lunch. “And don’t give me your usual answer… you gotta have more of a life than what you lead on, miss mysterious.”

You roll your eyes. “You wish I was with you.”

She hums in lieu of an answer before asking you again, “What are your plans for the weekend?”

“Honestly?” you chuckle. “Probably some grocery shopping, I have a friend coming over tomorrow, and then Sunday is a day to grade and veg out on the couch while I catch up on some shitty reality tv.”

“Sounds riveting,” the redhead jokes.

“Well, what do you have going on?”

“Nothin’,” she grins. “I fully plan on staying in my Eagles sweatshirt and catching up on laundry and some chores- probably have some wine while I’m at it. Care to join me on Sunday after I go to church?” She’s never asked you if you wanted to hang out outside of work before, and it throws you for a loop. You nearly choke on your salad.

“Oi,” she huffs playfully. “I was just messin’. I don’t want to have to endure any of that shit reality tv in my house.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I wouldn’t want you to have to sit through that either.” The two of you finish up your lunches and head back to your classrooms to deal with your monsters for the rest of the Friday.

“See you Monday, babe,” Melissa winks at you as she closes the door to her classroom and locks it.

“Oh, counting down already, I see,” you roll your eyes. “See you Monday, babe.”

When you get home, you change out of your stuff work attire and into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You change out your jewelry for the things you prefer. You fully plan on laying on your couch with a bottle of wine on this lazy Friday night, but when you get home you realize that you finished off your favorite white last weekend. With a sigh, you go into your bedroom to change into some nicer street clothes- you would rather be caught dead than wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt out in public. At the front door, you pull on your docs, and then you’re off to the grocery store.

If you’re there now, you decide it’s best to just get your grocery shopping for the week out of the way. You grab a cart and start perusing the aisles like you usually do.

You have a few things in your cart when you find yourself in the aisle with the wines and beers, and you’re currently pouring over the selections. What would your friend want? Probably just some Yuengling. So you throw a case of that into your cart before turning to look for the wine that you love. Little do you know, Melissa is turning her cart down the aisle that you’re currently in, and she recognizes you almost immediately.

You look so starkly different than she’s used to seeing you. If she’s being honest, she’s a little thrown off with your outfit. She’s so used to seeing you in your work attire, your hair either in a neat, low bun or down. But here? This look is entirely different from what she was expecting you to be done up in outside of work. She of course knew that you wouldn’t always be dressed like a teacher, but wow. She was not expecting this. You’re in a pair of tighter, ripped black jeans, you have a tank top on, and your hair is thrown up into a stylish messy bun with a few pieces strategically pulled out to give off the appearance that it’s an effortless look (it is for you). Is that a tattoo on your shoulder that she sees? And a tattoo on your arm? How has she never noticed that before? You have a cartilage piercing, bold earrings for your first and second, and… is that a nose ring? She didn’t even know you had your nose pierced. If Melissa’s honest with herself, it only makes you that much more attractive.

You turn, satisfied with your decision, and pop the bottle into the top of your shopping cart. You make eye contact with the redhead that is practically drooling over the sight of you. You give her a shy wave, but you don’t dare to interact. Don’t mix the personal from the professional. The woman snaps out of her own trance and waves back with a curious look.

You continue down the aisles, and you think that you’re in the clear from Melissa- you acknowledged her, that’s all you had to do. She goes on her way too, but the two of you run into each other again during checkout.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” she winks at you as she starts putting her groceries up on the conveyor belt. “Never pegged you as a beer girl.”

“Hey,” you say softly, shyly. “It- it’s actually for my friend.” That also throws Melissa for a loop. At school, you’re so confident, quick to make a remark. But now, you sound like you have something caught in your throat, and you nervously tuck one of the loose strands of hair behind your ear, as if that would make you more professional looking. “I’ve never seen you around here before?”

“I usually go to the one that everyone else goes to, but they were out of my wine, so…” she gestures to it before putting it up on the belt. “It was worth the extra ten minute drive though if it means I get to see you.” She winks at you with those emerald green eyes of her, but you don’t reciprocate. You nervously worry your lip between your teeth, as if you have no idea what to say.

Melissa understands your hesitation and shrugs. The two of you stand in line together awkwardly. She’s rung up, and as she leaves, you call a gentle, “Have a good weekend, see you Monday.”

She turns and blows a kiss your way, waving flirtatiously before leaving.

Your weekend is nice. Your friend comes over, you go out to the clubs, and you almost forget about the encounter that you had with the hot redheaded second grade teacher.

The small break from work is over all too soon, and you find yourself somewhat dragging yourself into Abbott on Monday, but duty calls. You’re back to wearing your lightly colored blouse and a sweater over top to cover the tattoo that you didn’t feel like putting makeup over today, you’re back in your dress pants and flats. You didn’t even bother to do your hair, just simply brushing it and letting it cascade over your shoulders instead.

You enter the staff lounge and it’s empty, as it always is. You’re always the first one in. Whoever comes next is always a mystery, but today, it’s Melissa Schemmenti. Of course it is. Without anyone else there to buffer, you know she is absolutely going to bring up your meeting on Friday night.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” the redhead says suavely. “Have a nice weekend?”

“Yeah, babe,” you shoot out. The coffee pot dings. “You want some?”

“You know I always do,” she sighs out as she makes a move for the cabinet with the mugs inside. She grabs hers before sauntering over to you. The second grade teacher hands you the mug before cozying up to you.

“For you,” you roll your eyes as your pour the scalding hot liquid into her cup.

“Thanks, babe,” she smirks and winks. “So… when were you goin’ to tell me about this little number?” she rests a gentle hand on your shoulder- the one with the tattoo.

“What do you mean?” you chuckle.

“That tattoo,” she licks her lips.

“I forget it’s there,” you roll your eyes. “Young Y/N mistakes.” Not true at all. You love that tattoo, and most of your street clothes show it off.

“It’s sexy,” she tells you lowly. “Kinda like the ear spike and the nose ring I had no idea you had.”

“I’m a different woman outside of school, babes,” you tell her, smirk evident as you start to fix your own coffee. “Didn’t realize I had to tell you about it all.”

“You don’t,” she shrugs. “I’ll find it all out myself… little miss alt girl.”

“In your dreams,” you fire out, and you get pretty close to her.

“Oh, every night,” she challenges you and moves even closer. At this point, the two of you are nose to nose.

And wow, it wouldn’t take much more for you to-

“Good morning!” Janine bursts in through the door, not knowing what she’s walking into.

You and Melissa couldn’t jump away from each other faster. The young, energetic teacher starts to ramble on all about her weekend, and your other colleagues start to make their way in. When it comes time to watch the news, Melissa settles herself in next you. Her hand finds its way to your shoulder, and she starts to trace the outline of you tattoo. Then, you feel the redhead’s hand make its way to your arm, where the other tattoo is that she saw. You didn’t know she saw that one too. She lets her fingers lazily trace around that one as well. All of your coworkers are too enamored with what’s happening on the screen to really notice, and Melissa’s green eyes are trained on the television as well. You could not be further from what’s happening on the screen. All you can think of is Melissa, and the things that she’s doing right now are driving you crazy.

Soon though, the kids will start to trickle in, and you know you have to get to your classroom. So you head out, a flirtatious smile and wink thrown the second grade teacher’s way before you close yourself into your room. You take a deep breath, and get ready for your day.

As you’re about to make your way out of your classroom, you hear heeled boots clinking along the linoleum floor, and you know those boots belong to the redhead that’s been on your mind all day.

“Hey, babe,” you says, back turned to the door, but you know it’s her. “Come to walk me out?”

The clicking gets louder, and before you can even think, Melissa has you pinned up against your desk. You can feel the corner of it digging into your back, and then you don’t because all you can feel are her lips on yours. Instinctively, you kiss her back. It’s better than you had been dreaming of. And then she pulls back, wipes away the lipstick she left smudged, wipes her own mouth to fix her own lip, and then winks at you.

“I’m done pretending that all this flirting we do is harmless,” she says once she’s righted herself. “You, me, dinner tonight at The Capital Grille. 6, sharp.”

You don’t know what else to do other than nod.

“And don’t come dressed in your teacher outfit,” she instructs. “I want the babe that you are… Ear spike, nose ring, tattoos out.”

With that, she turns on her heel and makes her way out of your room. As she’s making her way down the hall, you hear her call over her shoulder, “Don’t miss me too much!”

So much for not mixing the personal with the professional.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Note

I saw an Instagram reel - https://www.instagram.com/reel/C2H-mV3y2ng/?igsh=dHNlYWl2N3RpbWdz - that immediately made me think of Stud and Smartie! They’re one of my favorite pairings that you write about and I can never get enough of their story, they are perfect for each other! 🥰❤️

I hope you have a good weekend, Navy 🥰

I love this, nonnie, and it's very Stud and Smartie coded!

Just Because

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets you a card just because.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Lovelies, your girl is worn out, but I hope you enjoy this Stud and Smartie ficlet. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You yawned as you let yourself into the apartment, but quickly smiled when Alpine and Soot rushed to see you at the door. They brushed against both of your legs once you got your shoes off and set your keys down, your smile widening when they purred. You half expected Bucky to call out to you or make a joke that the cats were crowding his girl, but all that greeted you was silence.

No music, no television, nothing.

“Honey, I’m home!” You called out, frowning when Bucky didn't answer. “Where is he, huh? Is he taking a nap?” You asked, crouching down so Alpine could rub her head against your hand. Soot patiently waited until she was done for his turn. Like Bucky, he was crazy about his other half. You were convinced that was the case.

Okay, but if he’s actually taking a nap, I’m crawling into bed with him because I deserve all the naps and cuddles and orgasms. I mean, it’s not like I did anything extremely worthy of those things today, but adulting is hard, so I actually really do deserve love and warmth and hot sex.

You ceased the ramblings in your head as you headed toward your room to get into something comfortable that you didn't plan to be in for long. You felt your heart jump when you saw an envelope taped to your door, a smile spreading across your face when you recognized Bucky’s handwriting. It had to be something special or important, otherwise it would've been a post-it note.

But what is it?

You lightly bounced on your feet as you carefully took the envelope from the door. Part of you hoped it was not the first clue to a scavenger hunt. Not that you wouldn't enjoy that, but you wanted to set something like that up for him as a birthday surprise. Or a romantic gesture.

He deserves it.

Happiness bloomed inside you when you opened the card. It was reminiscent of the puzzle he had made for you when he revealed his feelings to you, the different pieces creating a heart. There was even a smaller envelope that held the “missing piece” for you to finish it.

YOU COMPLETE ME.

You thought your heart would burst from how full it was.

Gasping when you felt a warm, familiar chest against your back, you smiled as Bucky pulled you back against him by the hip. “This is beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

It isn't our anniversary. Not my birthday. Already engaged. Wait, was it the first time we made a pizza together? Is it the anniversary from the first time I blew him?

Bucky chuckled as if he read your mind. “I’m glad you like it. And there’s no occasion for it.”

“Okay then,” you said, whining when he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “So, why get me such a nice card then?”

It was a sweet gesture. One he clearly put some thought into since the card looked homemade. You'd have to get it framed.

“I got it for you just because I was thinking of you. I got it just because,” he said against your ear, making you shiver. “Because I love you, Smartie.”

He is the most romantic, perfect man and I will not burst into tears. I won't.

You turned in Bucky’s arms so you could face him, taking care not to drop the card as you put your hands around his neck. Tears sprang to your eyes anyway when he smiled and nuzzled his nose against yours. Love was in the small things and he reminded you of that every day.

“I love you, too, Stud,” you whispered, watching his blue eyes soften at your words. “Thank you.”

He leaned in for a kiss, your heart aching from how tender it was. “I’m glad you liked it. Otherwise, I would've had to make you fall in love with me all over again.”

You giggled as he kissed the tip of your nose. “Bucky, we’re engaged. I’m very much in love with you,” you reminded him.

Always will be.

“Yeah, my ploy worked,” he smirked at you. “I got you to move in with me.”

“You had a cheap room and a nice cat,” you deadpanned. Both things were true, but they were bonuses compared to the amazing package of a man holding you.

“And I made you fall in love with me.”

Cocky, but true.

“It’s because you're adorable,” you said with a tilt of your head.

Yes, my beefy fiance is adorable and easy to love.

“I try to be,” he said, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Don't want some book boyfriend taking my place.”

“A book boyfriend wouldn't get me the best puzzle or cards,” you said, though you did enjoy how he acted the last time he got jealous of you reading a romance novel. “Or take a nap and cuddle with me.”

He trailed kisses over to your ear. “Or give you orgasms.”

How did he know I was thinking that?

“You are welcome to take me to bed then,” you said, still a bit surprised at yourself for not jumping on him over the sweet card. But you stopped him when he reached past you to open your door. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“These ‘just because’ gestures? And every gift you’ve given me? They really mean so much to me,” you said, hoping he understood how much you appreciated them and him.

You still couldn't believe some days that he was real and in love with you.

He swallowed before he spoke in a quiet tone. “You deserve the entire world and I just wish I could give it to you.”

“You already have,” you promised, pulling him against you this time so you could kiss him.

Bucky had given you everything you could ever dream of by loving and believing in you. And you would get him the perfect gift as soon as you could. Something that said you were thinking of him. Something just because.

Because you loved him.

They bring me such comfort. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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anisespice · 2 months ago

Text

“ PARTY AT A RICH DUDE’S HOUSE ”

synopsis: after getting dumped, your friends propose you crash his house-party and completely wreck the place using the guise of the rambunctious partygoers as cover. little did you know, someone's been watching you.

warnings: mature language, mentions of violence, vandalism, suggestive undertones, MDI. tesla slander(?) hate those cars so so so much. i honestly don't know, i think this one's pretty tame :))

notes: kesha lives rent free in my head lol. also got inspired by that scene from the movie “bottoms” where they blow up the douchbag’s car >:))) not sure how i feel about it :// but it was fun to write helped with writer's block sooo hope you enjoy!!

notes ii: yall WHY WON'T WORDS WORD ANYMORE I-

It wasn’t difficult infiltrating the party. With all the commotion pouring inside and out, people taking full advantage of their host’s endless bounds of resources and bottomless pockets, blending in was a snap. Immediately, your senses were overwhelmed with the stench of sweat and bad decisions. Smoke clouded your vision as did the rumbling bass of the music, the music rattling you to where you could feel it in your bones.

An annoyance builds every time a partygoer bumped into you as you sifted through the crowds, driving you to start elbowing and shoulder-checking everyone around you. You received stank looks and slurred curses, but it merely molded with the rest of the noise surrounding you.

They were all basically there to celebrate your misery, so fuck them.

Even though you were on the prowl for the douche-nozzle himself to give him a piece of your mind, at some point you got caught up with various cups of who know's what in your hand, downing them like a fish out of water. You welcomed the delightful burn as it rolled down your esophagus, seeping into the wounds of your broken heart, and right into your stomach like a hot stone. You fought back the urge to vomit fire, body vibrating as you mentally set your mission on a different course...the garage.

“Y’know, that’d go a lot quicker if you used this.”

You yelped. Nearly slipping off of the cyber truck you were currently jumping on you regained balance in the last second, crouching down to slap your hands on the cool metal to steady yourself. While attempting to put a dent through the aluminum foil-ass top, you failed to notice your lone audience member chilling in a corner of the 10-car garage. How long he’d been standing there, you had no idea. All you knew was you had about four seconds to either teleport or hightail it to the nearest exit before he got a good look at your face.

“Shitshitshit,” you hissed, hurriedly and clumsily sliding down off the car, ready to book it. You really wished you hadn't drank as much before attempting to do this, but in your defense, you weren't expecting to have...company. However, as soon as your feet touched the floor, the stranger coaxed out to you with a free hand raised in peace, delaying your panicked scrambling.

“Hey, hey, relax. Believe me, if I wanted to narc on you I would’ve done so when you lit those firecrackers off in the guest bathroom. Hilarious, by the way."

Your heart sunk. An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of your stomach, not sure whether to be relieved or devastated—Question is, why didn’t he tell anyone?

Remaining vigilant you peered over your shoulder at him, guard up. “Who're you?”

He raised a brow. “Pretty sure that’s my line, sweetheart.”

You glared, turning around fully to scrutinize him. From the way he was dressed—Designer from head to toe even if on the casual side, blinding Rolex on his wrist paired with a few rings, equally icy studs in his ears along with a thin, and golden chain rested upon his toned, inked chest—He had money, no doubt about it. Not too bad on the eyes either..

Shaking your head of that last thought, you scoffed, “Don’t call me that. ‘m not anyone’s ‘sweetheart’.”

He shrugged, coyly. “Be happy to fix that, if you’d like.”

“Do I look in the mood for funny shit?"

He chuckled, tilting his head. “Nah, 'course not. Look more like you’re itching to bust some more shit up. But, gotta say, how you’re going about it s’kinda redundant. Those things may look like they're made out of construction paper, but you’ll tire out before you even make single scratch. So.. figured you’d appreciate a more practical approach.”

Too preoccupied giving him the stank eye, you hadn't seen the weapon rested in his other hand. Once you set your eyes on it and allowed his words to fully register, they slowly widened. The stranger’s grin sharpened at your muted interest, flicking his wrist to spin the slab of metal around before resting it coolly on his shoulder.

"Ah, crazy girl’s in the mood now?"

Your curiosity morphed back into annoyance instantly at his cheeky comment. “I am not crazy.”

He hummed. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Look, smartass, I'll have you know that I have a very good reason—” you pointed, ready to dump hours of alcohol-fueled rage on this stranger, only for him to immediately extinguish it with a mere wave of his hand.

“And you can tell me all about it when we go out for dinner after this. You want the bat or not?"

You paused, confused. Flabbergasted, even. Did this fool just ask me out?, you thought. Maybe you were just a little bit too tipsy and misheard, so you let it slide for now. With a huff, you finally said, skeptically, "Why...are you helping me?"

The stranger merely shrugged once more, eyes coated in mischief as he gave another spin of the bat. "Doesn't every criminal need a henchman?"

BAJI, HANMA, kazutora, mikey, draken, most of toman really, rindou, ran, izana,[insert anyone else who would fit].

#🍁wasabi #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #alexa play 'blackout' by breathe carolina #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #tokyorev headcanons

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ador3him · 5 months ago

Note

How about Sapnap wearing a cowboy outfit to surprise reader but she walks in on him as he's putting it on...she finds it hot so one thing leads to another and they fuck (and as they're doing it he speaks in his Texan accent- OMG 👀✨) (only if you're comfortable ofc)

✨ -

pairing: sapnap x reader

requested? yes!!! idk if you want to be an anon cause of the emoji but if you do lmk!

summary: sapnap wanted to surprise yn with a fantasy of hers but her surprise is ruined by herself.

content warnings: terrible use of southern terms cuz I'm Aussie, spanking, breeding, praising, SMUT!!!

authors note: IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA

---------------------------------------------------

Sapnap stood in front of his mirror in the room he shared with his long term girlfriend yn. Instead of his usual baseball cap he's wearing a brown cowboy hat tipped down slightly. And instead of his comfy, baggy attire he's wearing a matching brown and white cowboy outfit. The studded boots clicked slightly on the wooden floor as he moved around to look at himself in different angles.

Sapnap went to grab his final touch, a toothpick for his mouth. "Hey Nicky, what are we doing for-" yn stood shocked at the sight before her. "What's this?" She asked moving towards sapnap. Yn always had a fantasy of 'getting freaky' as she liked to say with sapnap in a cowboy outfit and his southern accent. "You like it?" He asked walking towards her. His hips forward slightly creating the well known cowboy walk from the movies. "I love it," She whispers grabbing his cheek and pulling him down to meet his lips with hers. "Good girl," he mumbled into the kiss, his accent getting more noticeable.

Yn reached over to sapnap's hat and grabbed it off his head placing it on her own. "You know what that means, sweetheart?" Sapnap asks softly into yn ear. Yn nodded and started to move them both to their bed pushing him down.

Yn took off her shirt revealing her bra, she also removed her panties under her skirt. "You look so good with my hat on, doll," Sapnap groaned propped up on his elbows. "You look so sexy in your outfit." Yn pressed kisses along his neck as she straddled his lap. She could feel the growing bulge through sapnap's flared pants. "Ride me like a good girl," Sapnap pulled yns hair at the root of her head. Yn moaned out a yes and lifted her hips so sapnap could maneuver out of his pants and boxers.

"Where's the condoms?" Yn moaned as she stroked his tip along her pussy. "I'm gonna breed you, don't need a condom, doll," his accent thickens when he thrusts up into yn. Yn let out a high pitched moan. "fuckin' ride me," sapnap slaps yn ass causing her to pick up the pace. Yn hat tipped down covering her eyes. "Nick," yn gargled out. "Keep ridin'" sapnap snapped grabbing yn throat. "Fuckin' useless," sapnap groaned out and flipped them over.

Yn moaned at the sudden change in friction. Sapnap pounded harshly into yn soaking pussy, his hand tightened around her throat. "Next time you're gonna ride me, do it properly," his hips thrust at every word going deeper into her. His free hand made its way to yn clit rubbing it softly. "Nick, please," yn hips buckled toward his fingers. His fingers sped up slipping on her slick. "Good girl," he whispers spitting down onto her clit. "Cum on my cock, doll," he encouraged. Almost immediately she let out a string of moans and clenched around his cock.

"Nick, please cum in me," she begged as sapnap continued to pound into her throbbing pussy. "Want me to fill ya up?" He taunts. "Please," yn sobbed out. "Put a baby in your pretty lil' tummy?" He said pressing his hand down onto her abdomen increases the pleasure. Sapnap let out one final moan and plunged deeper into yn cunt, thick ropes of cum spilt into her pussy. "Stay still, doll," his accent gets lighter as he comes down from his high.

"I might wear this more often," he says pulling himself out of her pussy. "Yeah, you should, baby," yn yawns grabbing the hat off her head, handing it to Sapnap. Sapnap begins to wipe the slick off her pussy cleaning her up. "Thanks, baby," she smiled readjusting the pillows under her head.

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thisapplepielife · 1 year ago

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Beautiful Boys

Prompt Day 23: Wayne Adopts Steve | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Lingering Injuries/Trauma | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Wayne & Steve, Wayne POV

Wayne is in Hawkins Hardware, looking at the fence pickets. He definitely didn't expect them to have this many choices. He figured he'd come in and buy what he needed, from the only option available. In and out. Wallet a little lighter, but no choices to be made.

But, no. There are options. Decisions. And he isn't sure which style Eddie would prefer. He just wants Eddie to have a place he feels safe outdoors, again.

Wayne reaches out to touch the samples, again, when he hears clattering and an "oh my god, I'm so sorry" that sounds an awful lot like Steve Harrington.

Wayne pokes his head around the corner of the aisle, and Steve is gathering up a bunch of swag hooks off the floor, swiping them back into his handbasket.

"What're you doin' with those, kid?" Wayne asks, crouching down to help him.

"Eddie's plants," Steve says, standing back up, pushing his hair back and up, out of his eyes. These boys and their hair they can't keep contained. Wayne smiles. He remembers how his (now long-gone) hair was in the sixties. Different styles, sure, but just as impractical, at times.

"Eddie's plants," Wayne repeats with a smile, then asks, "You're gonna hang them from the ceiling?"

Steve nods, and Wayne grins, "That's a good idea, kid. He'll love that."

Eddie has gathered up a lot of houseplants recently, tending to them, taking care of them, babying them. The first ones were sent to the hospital by his friends, and Eddie latched onto them. And now, Steve drags a new one home every week or two as a gift. Eddie is still recovering, might always be recovering, but his plants make him smile and give him something to do.

Wayne doesn't quite understand it, not with the black thumb he has, but it's like everything else about Eddie. Wayne doesn't have to understand it, to support him. If Eddie wants plants, they can have a whole houseful of them.

Eddie survived something he still hasn't fully explained to Wayne, might never, so if he wants to fill the house with greenery, so be it.

If he wants to fill the house with Steve Harrington, too, that's also just fine by Wayne.

Steve smiles shyly, "If you don't care that I put holes in the ceiling, that is."

Wayne doesn't care. "I'll help. I've got a stud finder, so we won't have them falling and cracking us on the noggin."

Steve laughs, and nods, "Thanks. What are you doing here?"

Wayne waves him over, getting Steve to follow him.

"Trying to pick fencing for the backyard. If Eddie's gonna keep dragging home strays, we'll need a place to put them," Wayne says, and Steve blushes, just a little.

"I could make a tent work," Steve teases, and Wayne squeezes his shoulder. Steve is always, and will always, be welcome in the house.

"Good to know, but I was thinking more along the lines of dogs, cats, raccoons. You know how he is," Wayne drawls, and Steve smiles. It's wishful thinking, because they both know the real reason for the fence. Eddie doesn't want to leave the house these days.

"I just assumed I'd get dog-ears," Wayne says, pointing at the slightly-rounded piece of wood on display. "But there are choices."

Steve studies them all, finally saying "I think Eddie would like the pointed ones the most. Looks dangerous," Steve says.

Wayne nods. He was thinking the same thing.

"They're narrower, be more work to set," Wayne mutters.

Steve turns to look at him, "I'll help you, you know that."

Wayne nods. He knows Steve will. He's a good kid, who spends most of his time hanging out in their new little house, doting on Eddie in one way or another. Wayne isn't blind. He knows what this is, what these boys feel for each other, even if Eddie hasn't told him yet.

He will. Wayne just has to be patient.

"Sounds good, kid," Wayne says, and Steve grins, big and bright. Like he wasn't sure his help would be accepted.

"I don't know much about building a fence, but I can learn. I can follow instructions," Steve assures, and Wayne pats him on the back.

"Let's double-check my math here," Wayne says, pulling a small notepad out of his pocket, rerunning his figures.

Once he's got a good number, Wayne directs them towards the stain options. Steve picks one with a red tint, and Wayne nods. Looks good to him.

When they get to the counter, he takes Steve's basket and adds it to his.

"You don't have to do that," Steve says.

Wayne knows he doesn't, but it's for Eddie and it's just a few dollars worth of hooks and bolts. He's definitely gonna get his money back in fence-building help.

"I know, I want to," Wayne says, opening his wallet.

Outside, Steve helps the guys from the lumber department load up the trailer full of the pickets.

"See you at home?" Wayne questions, and Steve nods and smiles.

"Yeah, at home," he answers, walking towards his car, with his small sack of hardware.

And they spend days hanging the over-abundance of plants in front of every window in the house, so many that it seems like they're living in a greenhouse, and then they work on the fence. Putting it up, picket by picket, together.

Sometimes, Eddie comes and sits on the patio and watches, but it still takes a lot out of him, even now, months later. Wayne's worried he might never fully recover.

But, Steve works hard to entertain Eddie. Steve's funny, and he treats Eddie real good. That's all that will ever matter to Wayne. Eddie's his boy, and by extension, Steve's his boy now, too.

Eddie and Steve fight over the radio, a welcome sound, and Steve's won.

So, John Lennon's singing about a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.

Wayne knows that feeling well.

He's got two of those beautiful boys, now.

close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone, he's on the run and your daddy's here, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy John Lennon, Beautiful Boy

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #wayne adopts steve #wayne munson fic #good uncle wayne munson #wayne munson is always the best #wayne munson & steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steddie ficlet #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles #Spotify

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mysteria157 · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 2

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~3.6k

CW: More profanity, reader’s best friend being a brash pervert

Summary: Flashback chapter. That first day when you meet him, you’re bright eyed and ready to work alongside him, filled with so many ideas that will benefit the company. Him, Nanami Kento, a highly esteemed director that always made your stomach flip in desire. But it turns out, he’s not what you thought.

Notes: Hi! Thank you all for sticking through. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Previous Chapter | Ao3 | Next Chapter

It Had To Be You Masterlist

Everything was always bigger in Tokyo.

With ten times more people than your modest city of Sendai, it was always a wonder when you got the chance to visit. It wasn’t like you didn’t have the means, but it was still too far for a weekend getaway so you couldn’t go as often as you liked.

Marketing agencies from all over Japan had gathered for the weeklong excursion to celebrate accomplishments, announce future ideas, and collaborate with one another to strengthen cross functional bonds. Your marketing agency was currently bringing in the most revenue, with the Tokyo branch sitting at the forefront. Naturally, they were given the opportunity to hold the annual summit of what intended to be the biggest event of the year.

For Ome, it was a chance to get away from her ‘boyfriend’. Normally, that would raise alarm for anyone else. But when she caught her boyfriend balls deep in his secretary after she tried to surprise him for lunch, leaving the city was better than setting his office on fire.

For you, it was another opportunity to network and get your name out there. The Tokyo branch was the headquarters for the marketing agency you worked for. Anyone who held any sort of higher distinction walked the halls of the building.

“You look fucking fantastic, stop fidgeting.”

You glowered at Ome, cheeks heating in embarrassment before smoothing down your ensemble for the 10th time in the elevator. A baby pink long sleeved mock top tucked into white high waisted office pants seemed like a safe option. You had your long spiral curls tucked away into a low bun, small stud diamond earrings and a modest gold necklace to complete the look.

“Did you spend all night trying to put that together?”

You rolled your eyes at her comment.

“No.” Yes.

“Stop making fun of me, I’m fucking nervous.”

She scoffed before walking in front of you, placing her hands on your shoulders. Of course, she looked gorgeous in her airy button up long sleeve shirt. Of course, she could pull off the skirt that stopped right at her knees and hugged every natural curve of her body. Her twist out was flawless and was pinned on top of her head, thick kinky bangs framing her face.

Natural African beauty wasted on a deadbeat boyfriend.

“Listen to me. You’re the smartest woman I have ever bothered to keep in my life, you’ve worked hard to get to where you are, you know who you are, and you know what you do. Be yourself and don’t try to be a hero. It’s annoying.” You snorted, smiling softly at her before wringing out your hands.

“Plus, you’re hot as fuck, if words don’t work just push up your tits.”

You smacked her hands off your shoulders, the action only making her chuckle.

“Don’t worry, your little office crush will definitely see that fat ass of yours.”

“Jesus Christ, Ome!”

Her chuckles ripped through the air as the elevator doors finally opened.

Being on the 48th floor of a 50 story skyrise definitely felt different from your office in Sendai. A simple receptionists desk was the first thing you both saw. Large and decorated with a fresh bouquet of roses, a woman with a name you didn't have time to learn and bright blue hair greeted you both and directed you past her. The small hallways leading away from her desk gave way to the rest of the entire office floor which was bustling with activity. It was so much more spacious than your own; intricately designed to have many cubicles up against the floor to ceiling glass windows and hallways leading to private offices and breakrooms separately. The center of the floor was open and complete with rich brown couches and a coffee table in the center to make for an open relaxing area for coworkers and visitors. The walls were decorated with minimalistic design, plants and flowers adorned corners and climbing vines wrapped around the cubicles. Even though everyone seemed to be so busy, it felt quite cozy for an office.

Jin rose from one of the couches when he spotted us, his pink locks like a beacon.

“You both look beautiful. Let me show you to the conference room before the rest of the team arrives.”

The Tokyo office had rented out a venue for the summit to house all their events for the week, but Jin wanted his team to actually meet with the branch a day before the festivities were set to begin. Today would just be a meet and greet on a more personal level. Even though that personal level would include various directors and the Vice President.

You smoothed your hands down your pants again as the looming anxiety slowly began to pull its way up your legs. No one looked your way as you walked past them, which should have been more than enough to calm you down.

“You’re looking pretty good from back here.”

Ome’s quiet voice mocked, her words curling around a good natured chuckle as her heels clicked on the floor behind you. You whirled around to glare at her, an elegant brow arching back at you in challenge.

“Quit it!” you hissed under your breath.

“Don’t frown, y/n. You don’t want your boo to see you so upset.”

You gaped openly at her before turning back around in silence, your face heating instantly. It’s not that Ome’s words were mean. They were blunt, just like her because you knew she was only acting this way to make you see how stupid you were being. You knew your stuff. You could probably walk into that conference room and take over if you needed to.

You were going to be fucking fine. And as far as the ‘crush’? It was completely illogical.

For all you knew, Nanami Kento had no idea you even existed.

The feelings were miniscule and stupid to entertain. He was serious in almost every interaction when it came to work. Monthly company video calls gave you a glimpse of the man behind the deep but distinctive voice. He was quick and to the point, never beating around the bush, and always one to express his disdain for open ended questions. He didn’t rise to his position out of sheer luck.

Nanami had never spoken a word to you. Never sent an IM to ask about project plan updates. Never called you on the phone to praise you on the last account you brought to the company.

But he had the most detailed reports you had ever read in your life. He wore odd glasses from the chances you could glance at him through the computer camera that always seemed to make your stomach flip. He seemed to be disconnected from the people around him but incredibly steadfast and involved with his work and the quality it brought to the company. Smart, efficient, and handsome as hell.

None of your current emotions made any sense.

Just a stupid teenage rom-com crush that would probably not have the happy ending of the guy finally noticing you and deciding to ask you out on a date.

But that didn’t stop you from putting together an outfit that was modest enough to show how professional you were but form fitting enough to show off your body.

If your words don’t work, show off your tits.

Dammit, Ome.

The cold air from the conference room shocked you out of your thoughts. The adjacent wall was complete floor to ceiling windows, brightening the large room and making it feel less sterile. The small group of people already present stood upon your entry and bowed gently.

“Welcome!” The voice was loud and gruff, the source a tall and well built man with sharp and rough features. Dark brown short hair that was shaved on all sides but spiky at the top, thick dark brown eyebrows and an even thicker mustache and goatee.

Stopping in front of you all, he smiled, the delightful gesture a sharp contrast to his serious exterior.

“Masamichi Yaga. It’s so wonderful that you all could join us today. I hope this week will be as exciting as we made it out to be in the itinerary.”

Jin shook his hand.

“I’m sure we will. The rest of our team should arrive shortly. For now, these are the two I told you about who keep everything smooth and efficient. Omelia Obeje, one of our Data and Analytics Specialists…”

Ome bowed politely, a gentle smile on her usually serious face.

“Pleased to meet you sir. Itadori-san likes to boast us both but,” she tilted her head towards you. “She’s the real brains of the team.”

You widened your eyes minutely, the anxiety that was sliding at up your legs now coming back alive to inch its way up your stomach with the intent to wrap around your throat. You bowed to cover your expression.

“F/n, L/n, sir. Jin and Omelia are incredibly modest, but I’m pleased to meet you.”

Yaga introduced you to everyone in the room. Everyone was polite and offered conversation, even going as far as to ask you about life in Sendai. But the brightest of the group were three interns that Yaga was doing his best to tutor. The most excited of the bunch, Itadori Yuji, was a stark contrast to his father’s calm and gentle demeanor. He bowed a little too sharply, his pink locks such an odd sight to see on someone else besides your boss. His friend, Kugisaki Nobara, took every opportunity to cut him off, speaking over him and lifting her chin with every exclamation as a means to assert dominance in the trio. The tallest was the most quiet, deep blue locks in natural disarray as he bowed politely and introduced himself in an equally quiet voice as Fushiguro Megumi.

You could feel your nerves settling slowly, and whatever body language you were giving off was enough for Ome to slide back next to you after a lull in conversation, quiet and withholding.

“You’re doing well.” She was teasing again but the hint of affection was enough to make you roll your eyes and smile at her. “Have you even thought about what you’re going to say to him?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, the question making your mind stutter as you scrambled for an answer. “You know…besides ‘Hello, my name is y/n. I’m the best at my job, I have a fat ass and I could rock your world if you let me.’”

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the 12th time of the morning, the corners of your lips curling up into a smile before you snorted at her.

“I’m serious, y/n. Any man would be lucky to even ask you out on a date. Be confident in yourself.”

That was the odd thing about Ome. As much as her words were blunt and cold, she could make you also feel like the best person in the room. At least she did with you anyway.

You hadn’t really had luck with relationships in the past. And it was simply because you never had the time. College was just as busy as high school. Your spare time was often spent on small hobbies, hanging out with Ome and other friends, and working part-time to pay your bills and stay ahead in every aspect of your life.

When you did entertain the thought of something with a man, it was always short-lived. You were too rigid with giving into compromise, too work obsessed, too busy thinking ahead and not living in the moment. At least thats what they told you. The one relationship that was long-term had ended so terribly that you didn’t leave your apartment for a month. So by the time you had graduated college, you were resigned to entertain a one night stand a few times a year and the comfort of your vibrator that never failed you.

Whatever words Ome was speaking to you at the time seemed to ebb into the background as a tall man—or probably the tallest man you had ever seen—walked up to you both. His snow white hair hung loose on his head, falling in layers and covering a fresh undercut. His face was soft, but his jaw sharp with full lips and smooth skin. But the most jarring were his eyes. Bright blue orbs that seemed to glow even in the sunlight, thick eyelashes that matched his hair color framed the exotic orbs as they gazed at you and Ome both. He was probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

He introduced himself as Satoru Gojo, Director of Product Management, and like all men who manage to breathe the same air as Ome, was transfixed with her immediately.

“Are you single?”

The question made you chuckle sharply. A high executive blatantly flirting with a colleague was ballsy. But he seemed like the type to do exactly what he wanted and give a shit about it some other time. Or just not give a shit about it at all.

Ome simply raised a brow at him.

“It’s only 8am, how very desperate.”

His bright eyes seemed to flash with mirth. “I’m just surprised there aren’t more people over here trying to talk to you.”

If it was an attempt to flirt, he wouldn’t get far with her.

“I hate vague innuendos and I’m not interested. Do you mind moving out of the way, Beanpole? You’re blocking the sunlight.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to not laugh as you watched Gojo gape at her in shock, confusion, and then outright joy as he smiled pearly whites down at her.

“You think I’m tall—”

“Gojo, bothering our colleagues is not the most logical way to spend your time.”

His voice made your stomach drop instantly, the hairs on the back of your neck rising but not our of fear as his tall frame stopped next to Gojo. He wasn’t as tall as Gojo, but you could hardly tell the difference. His blonde hair was fuller than you thought now that you could see him in the flesh, with locks combed back perfectly and parted along the side. The same odd glasses you remembered from video calls sat perched on his nose and you could just make out brown irises through his dark frames thanks to the sunlight. A hard cut jaw and cheekbones, and full lips pressed into a relaxed line made his expression just as serious as you remembered. A muscular but lean frame sat beneath a rich ensemble of deep tan slacks and a blazer, a navy blue button up with a spotted yellow and black tie.

Jesus fuck.

Nanami Kento bowed to you both, introducing himself as the Director of Strategic Partners. You knew. Of course, you knew. You had seen his fine print on many reports from recent projects next to Yaga’s name. To be so actively involved with the Vice President had to have been an honor.

After Ome introduced herself, she jerked her head in the direction of Gojo.

“Is he always this thirsty?”

“Unfortunately. Please ignore him.”

He shifted away from Gojo’s protesting form, eyes falling on you. You cleared your throat and bowed softly as you introduced yourself, willing your voice to remain even and smooth as you felt his steady gaze.

Be confident. You got this. Say something.

But before you could even open your mouth to utter another word, Yaga and Jin had called the room to settle.

You managed to avoid Nanami for most of the day. When he was in your vicinity to speak, it was always in observation as he watched others engage with you instead. Ome kept her mouth shut, too busy insulting Gojo at every opportunity that he managed to speak to her. It was intriguing to watch and even funnier to realize he was probably bringing her the most entertainment in a very long time.

Ome was having the time of her life, however your current source of stress lay in front of you in the form of mahogany doors. A gold name plate gazed back at you, K. Nanami.

After an hour of intense work that you were given the ability to draft, Yaga and Jin had practically shoved you out of their office with the documents and the opportunity to work closely with Nanami for the week to learn from his point of view. It was perfect for you. You could gain more experience and try not to have a heart attack in his close proximity.

You made it a point to avoid Ome on the walk down to his office but now you couldn’t deny her words of ‘encouragement’ may have been helpful in this moment.

You clenched the manilla folder in your hands, taking a slow breath before squaring your shoulders and knocking on his door. His deep voice answered from the other side, beckoning you in.

The inside of his office was warmer than you were expecting. The room was clean and crisp, a large bookshelf against the wall filled with texts that you would have to look closely at some other time. A tall and well cared for Monstera Deliciosa was growing in another corner under the bright sunlight, and his walls were filled with plaques, certificates, and artwork that had your mind racing with intrigue. His own desk was large for you but seemed to suit his tall frame. And he sat behind it, his blazer off and hanging on his deep red chair, elbow resting on his desk and his chin resting on his fist, Nanami sat. His stature radiated indifference and you tried not to let that shake you as you closed his door and walked to stand in front of his desk.

“Itadori-san and Masamichi-san thought it would be a great opportunity if we worked closely together this week. I look forward to working with you.”

He didn’t respond immediately, harsh eyes analyzing you to a degree that had your hands gripping the manilla folder a little tighter.

“May I have those?”

The large hand propping up his chin folded out towards you, long fingers crooking back towards him as a means to hurry you along. You gave him the documents, throat dry as you struggled for something else to say. He seemed to really…not want you here. And as excited as you were to be in his presence, the indifference was enough to second guess walking in here.

“While I understand Yaga and Itadori-san's intentions, I’m afraid having someone else working with me this week is not feasible.”

Immediately, you felt your blood run cold, your face falling minutely.

“I don’t under—”

“Having someone else working with me is not feasible. It’s a very easy statement to grasp.”

All hints of anxiety seemed to fizzle out immediately, your crestfallen face slowly shaping into a glower.

“I don’t think I’ve done anything to you to warrant this kind of harshness, Nanami-san.”

You tried to smooth out the expressions on your face. There was no doubt he could clearly see the anger on your face. You had done everything right, had been nothing but polite to him. Even if he was busy with work, this kind of reaction was completely unnecessary.

He pulled in a deep breath, broad shoulders rising with the movement as he looked away from you and instead flipped through the documents you had given him.

“I’ve already allocated the resources that I need for this week. Your assistance isn’t wanted. Perhaps Gojo can show you how things work, because I’m unfortunately quite busy.”

He managed to spew it all out without looking up from his desk, long fingers idly pressing against the paper to help guide his eyes as he read. Your assistance isn’t wanted.

The indifference in the room quickly gave way to tension, making your stomach clench and twist as the anxiety began to make itself known again.

And almost immediately your patience had worn out.

“I know how things work—”

“I mean no disrespect.” He cut you off again, flaring the anger in your veins. “This happens every year when Yaga tries to push someone into my office during the annual summit and I have to walk them through the basics.”

You clenched your fists against the sides of your pants, red beginning to cloud the edges of your vision. Walk you through the basics? As if you were an intern fresh out of college, desperate to learn but lacking any of the skills necessary to succeed.

You suddenly didn’t find him very admirable at all as he opened his mouth to speak again.

“I don’t have the time—”

“Saying it twice doesn’t make you sound smarter.” The harsh tone coming out of your mouth shocked you, but you didn’t let it show as you glared at him. “I can see that you’ve already made up your mind about me even though you’ve hardly said a word to me.” His eyes widened minutely before narrowing. You jutted your chin out toward the papers beneath his hand.

“When you’re done looking at the same word over and over, you’ll find the content schedule, marketing plan, and a partially drafted work agreement.” He gaze didn’t falter, but you could see the slight ruddiness in his cheeks. From what, you didn’t really care to try and figure out. What a stupid mistake this was.

“Don’t look so put out. I put it together and Masamichi-san approved them. That should check a few things off your list. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to see if Gojo-san has ‘something for me to do’”.

You didn’t bother to look at his reaction as you whirled around and walked briskly from his office, slamming the large door on your way out.

Like you said before. Your emotions towards him made no sense at all.

After all, this wasn’t a fucking teenage rom-com.

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dreaming-tonite · 2 years ago

Text

Pierced (through the heart)

A/N: my last time writing anything of any kind that isn't academic was 2 years ago and if I say I'm not rusty that would be one major fucking lie but the brainrot is real and I just need to get it out LMAO

Pairing: Hobie Brown x afab!reader

Warning: pwp, my Hobie Brown body (dick) piercing agenda, very brief oral (giving), I’m very horny for this man and it isn’t very hard to tell

Word count: 1.3k

Hobie Brown had a penchant for putting holes in himself, quite literally, and if anything, it was perhaps one of the first things you noticed about him.

(You told him the piercings were what got you, but even he would know that it was a pathetic attempt of a cover-up on why it seemed so hard for you to peel your eyes off of him. But bless his heart, he only took your deflection with a knowing glance and a slight, smug tug at the corner of his lips.)

(Since we all knew, the piercings were just the tip of your downfall when it came to this man.)

You probably knew where each stud was placed better than you know your own face — two on both brow bones, several running up the curve of his lobes, an industrial of his left ear that he got after a drinking game at the pub which he usually left empty.

He had made sure to tell you that it was, in fact, a drinking game that he won, but decided to do it anyways for the spirit.

Hobie was anything but a lightweight, which you would have believed even without much convincing, but there was something about the way he had to let you know that simply made you want to pretend otherways just to rile him up.

There was the one at the side of his nose that appeared out of nowhere one day but suited him so well it almost seemed like he was born with it. This was where you slipped, when you pretended to notice it sometime into your conversation, as if you didn't pick it up as soon as you took your first proper look at him that day, and asked as nonchalantly as you could if it was new.

But he left you no mercy that time, because he too would be lying if this wasn't exactly what he wanted.

"Huh," he hummed, the sound rumbling from the back of his throat and sending shivers down your spine as he looked at you straight. The glimmer in his eyes was evident even under the dimmed lights of the noisy pub, the drumming of your pulse louder than the bass pounding in your ear when his lips split into a teasing grin, "someone's been keeping notes on me, hm?"

He wouldn't admit the fire that set off when you looked away shyly, confirming that it hadn't just been wishful thinking on his part that you looked at him differently than you did anyone else.

Then there was the truly distracting one, your one true vice. You melted into puddles the first time you felt his lip ring on you in the form of a sloppy, heated kiss at the alleyway after one too many shots, the explosion of one too many stolen glances and lingering touches until the tension finally broke.

His hot breath fogged your sense until all that was left was him — the mix of beer and liquor in his mouth; calloused hands from years of guitaring grabbing you at the waist and holding you flat against him when your knees got weak; the slight chap of his lips reminding you that this moment was so, so real when you were starting to wonder if you had simply dreamed this all up.

Your fingers clawed at the fabric of his sleeve, bodies curving into each other.

And there it was, that darn lip ring in the middle of all this.

He swore he could have combusted when your teeth tugged at the ring slightly as you parted, your eyes hazed over and glassy from desire.

It glistened under the lights and you nearly let out a pathetic whimper when his tongue ran across his bottom lips, pushing the ring to the side in the process.

"My place or—"

"Yes," you felt braver than you had ever been and your hand tugged at the front of his vest as you repeated, lips just hovering next to his, "yes."

Hobie Brown usually had a lot to say about most things, but even he could not spare one more second to utter another word in that instance.

You thought that he already had quite a few going on above the neck, you had no idea what you were in for until the clothes come off.

His shirt was the first to go in a messy tugging of hands, immediately revealing the several studs lined up at his collarbone, prominent and calling out for your attention. You would have spent your sweet time sucking and nibbling on him if he would let you, but neither of you was in the mood for all of that pretence after such a long wait.

Next time, you thought to yourself, lips trailing down the center of his chest as he leaned against the mattress, head throwing back when he felt your hands grabbing impatiently at his belt.

The buckle clamoured before coming undone and with it the thick, studded belt that he always had on. One thumb hooked under the elastic of his underwear, the faint happy trail lined up under his naval beckoned your eyes lower as he pushed his skin-tight trousers down.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.

Two more, sitting at the crook of his pubic bone, as if the sharp line that made up the downwards V was not enough for the eyes. You gulped as your gaze drailed further south, your face heating up as you took in his half-hard erection.

There was no way this man didn't know what he was doing with all of this.

The bar nuzzling underneath the base of his shaft was just the tip, you could not help but press your thighs together when you saw the many silver studs lined up on the downside of his pulsing cock, a thick vein popping just underneath that glaring ladder of bars.

There you were, on your knees between his thighs as fabric pooled around his ankle, warmth pooling up in your mouth and traveling to your core while he stared right at you. Dark eyes hooded with lust, you wanted to whimper when his palm reached down to your head, tipping you back just so gently that you were facing him directly.

The other hand found its way to the base of his cock, fisting it in his hand. He could be so show off sometimes, lips curling when your eyes widened at the shiny silver at the crown of his tip.

You darted your tongue out when you followed the silver ball to see the bead of pre leaking from the slit.

"You gonna do something, or you're just gonna stare?"

He did not have to ask twice, and the loud groan he let out when you took him into your mouth almost made you cum without being touched right then and there, the bumps under your tongue as you started bobbing your head made you wonder just how heavenly it would be when you felt it inside you.

And as he usually did, it absolutely blew your mind.

—

Hobie Brown had and continued to have you in the centre of his palm, which you no longer cared to deny anymore. But even then, it was still completely out of hand when he just wandered in one day and tugged you to the side to a corner away from the crowd before rolling his tongue out without a warning.

The last thing you needed on this man is a tongue piercing, as if he wasn't already very good with his mouth already.

"You like?" he asked, smug and knowing.

Hobie let out a laugh when you tugged at him by the arm straight out of the door, not bothered at all when you turned around to send him a sharp glare.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown smut #spider punk x reader #spider punk smut #atsv x reader

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