#tongue piercing supremacy

[kkbardd]

[elkaseltzer]

bow nernar nuhner guitar solo fuck yeah

behold! the first fully finished drawing ive done in months!

part of an art trade with @leafycasper :> check out his page to see what i got in return!!

[meownotgood]

Aki with snakebites or a single lip peircing...

I understand and hear you anon

[momomallowart]

Want a lick~?

[sagie-artzz]

rushed cheshire cat midocchi

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ PEOPLE YOU KNOW ♡·˚

— [♡] ; the name "gojo satoru" felt foreign and awkward on your tongue after months of calling him "gojo-sensei" ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: fated feud, fem!reader, betrayal, angst, found family, trust issues, dark past, second chances, clan rivalry, hopeful ending, gojo collecting traumatized students 101.

wc. 5K

You were never supposed to know peace.

From the moment you took your first breath, your fate had been sealed by those who surrounded you, hands already stained with the blood of generations lost to the Gojo clan’s power. You were born into a cage made of their ambitions and hatred, their fear of Gojo’s supremacy shaping you into a tool—a weapon crafted for a singular purpose.

“Your life isn’t your own,” they reminded you, again and again, in the cold, dark halls of your clan’s compound. Each bruise, each scar you bore from training was a reminder of that truth. You weren’t meant to live beyond your mission; you weren’t meant to become anything more than the one thing they needed: Gojo Satoru’s downfall.

Day after day, you were sharpened. They taught you everything, everything but the chance at a life free from their shadow. Theories upon theories of how Gojo’s Infinity could be pierced, how his Six Eyes could be blinded, flooded your lessons. Every possibility was drilled into you, every failure punished. You learned to move silently, to breathe in the malice they planted deep inside of you.

They made you believe this was all you were ever good for.

The clan elders whispered of his power like a dark omen. His Infinity—a barrier no one could cross—and the Six Eyes, those cursed techniques that made him untouchable. You were to be the antithesis to all that. Where others had failed, you were supposed to succeed. They stripped you of your name, your identity. You were nothing but the weapon to strike at the untouchable.

“Gojo Satoru,” they would say, the syllables laced with bitterness. “He will fall. You will make him fall.”

But no matter how hard they drilled those words into you, a part of you—buried deep beneath the years of pain and manipulation—questioned whether you were truly capable of such a feat. Whether you were capable of anything beyond being a mere vessel for their hatred.

Infinity. Six Eyes. Words that loomed large in your life, despite never having encountered him in person. It was always about him. From your earliest memories, they drilled it into your head—he is invincible, untouchable. Your existence, they claimed, was the only thing that might tilt the balance. You had no identity beyond that.

When the time finally came, they sent you to Jujutsu High. After all, what better way to study the enemy than from within? Months of training culminated in this infiltration, hidden under the guise of a normal student.

But it wasn’t like what you imagined.

You thought he’d be different—distant, cold, untouchable like the legends described him. But Gojo Satoru was nothing like the stories.

On your first day, you felt his presence before you even saw him, his energy radiating through the hallways like the sun at high noon. It was overwhelming, suffocating even, but not in the way you had expected. You anticipated his aura to be a fortress of power, a wall you’d have to break through. Instead, it was na aura of warmth. He was... bright.

You wanted to hate him. You tried to maintain your focus, to remember the cruel purpose that had been etched into your bones since birth. But how could you, when he was so... friendly? His smile was disarming, his laugh loud and full of life. And the way he treated everyone—not just his students but even you, the supposed weapon sent to destroy him—was effortless. Casual, like he had no idea of the burden you carried.

“Hey, you must be the new kid!” Gojo’s voice had snapped you out of your thoughts on your first day. He tilted his head down slightly, even though he was much taller. Those eyes—those cursed Six Eyes, hidden behind his blindfold—seemed to pierce right through you. “What’s your name?”

Your name. Something so simple, yet you hesitated. The response you gave was mechanical, devoid of feeling, as you introduced yourself. Every syllable was heavy with the weight of your mission, the expectation of your entire clan on your shoulders.

But Gojo’s grin didn’t falter. “Well, welcome to Jujutsu High! We’re a pretty small group here, so I’m sure we’ll get to know each other real well.” He said, as though he had no clue who you were, what you were meant to be.

It was frustrating. Infuriating, even. Every interaction was supposed to bring you closer to understanding him, to finding a weakness. Instead, all it did was throw you into confusion. How could someone so powerful also be so... human? You were meant to tear him down, to be the undoing of this untouchable figure, yet it was him who was breaking you. Not with force, but with kindness.

He was too bright. Too... Gojo.

Days turned into weeks, and still, you struggled to reconcile the man before you with the target etched into your soul. The more you saw of him, the harder it became to remind yourself of your mission. He laughed at your awkward attempts to avoid his attention, teasing you playfully when you stammered through conversations. At times, you caught yourself almost enjoying it—almost forgetting.

But you couldn’t forget. You weren’t allowed to forget.

Your nights were sleepless, haunted by the faces of your clan, the cold voices of the elders reminding you of why you were there. You were their weapon, their creation. You had no right to lose focus. Yet, every time you closed your eyes, it wasn’t your mission that plagued you. It was him—Gojo, with his blinding smile and easy demeanor.

How were you supposed to fight someone who didn’t even seem to care that you were a threat?

Weeks passed at Jujutsu High, and despite your best efforts to keep your distance, you found yourself inexorably drawn into Gojo’s orbit. It wasn’t by choice, not really. He was just… everywhere. He seemed to appear out of thin air—his boundless energy always circling around you, pulling you into conversations, dragging you into group training sessions, or forcing you to spar when all you wanted was to retreat and focus.

“Hey, kiddo!” Gojo’s voice rang out from across the courtyard, cutting through the calm morning air like na explosion of sunlight. You tensed, the instinct to brace yourself for his overwhelming presence kicking in as you glanced over your shoulder. There he was, in all his glory, strolling over with that easy smile plastered on his face.

Kiddo. He’d taken to calling you that almost immediately. You hated how casual and comfortable it sounded, as though you were just some other student—just another kid under his care.

But you weren’t. You couldn’t be.

“Gojo-sensei,” you replied, your voice stiffer than you intended. His name felt awkward in your mouth, even now. Every time you addressed him, you could hear the echo of your elders reminding you of who he was—not a teacher, not a mentor, but the man you were destined to defeat. Still, the way he grinned at you made it feel like you were just one of his students. Nothing more.

“You seem tense,” he remarked, his voice playful as he folded his arms and cocked his head to the side. “Training too hard? You’re not supposed to carry the weight of the world, you know. Leave that to the old guys.” He winked, knowing full well the irony in his words.

You didn’t respond, hoping your silence would end the conversation, but Gojo wasn’t one to let things go. He slid in closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

“Come on, kid. Lighten up a little, will ya?” He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of it, solid but not heavy, grounding you in the moment. There was an ease to his touch, a warmth that contrasted with the rigid formality you had been taught to expect from him. “You’re doing great. Really.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard. It wasn’t just na empty compliment—he genuinely believed it. And for the briefest moment, you felt a flicker of something deep inside, something dangerously close to... pride.

But that feeling was quickly quashed as the memory of your mission came crashing back, pulling you down like na anchor. You weren’t supposed to enjoy his praise. You weren’t supposed to feel anything for him beyond what your clan had drilled into you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on the ground.

Gojo’s hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re a tough one, huh? That’s good. You’ll need it.”

You glanced up at him, confused by his words. “Need it for what?”

“For dealing with me,” he said, smirking as if that explained everything. “I’m a handful, or so I’ve been told.”

Under normal circumstances, you might have rolled your eyes or brushed off the comment. But there was something about the way Gojo’s presence lingered, something about his carefree attitude that made you want to stay, to hear more.

Despite everything you knew, despite everything you were supposed to be, you felt the faint stirrings of... trust. It was ridiculous, you knew that. Gojo Satoru wasn’t someone you were meant to trust. He was your target. The reason you were here. And yet, every time he called you “kid” or “kiddo,” it chipped away at the wall you had built around yourself.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Gojo suddenly said, his voice softer, his teasing demeanor dialed down a notch. “You’re strong. Smart. Got a good head on your shoulders. You remind me of myself when I was younger.”

The compliment hung in the air, heavy with implication. You swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. Was this a trap? A test? Did he know? Could he see through you and the purpose that had shaped your life from the start?

“I’m not like you,” you blurted out, the words sharper than you intended. Gojo blinked, taken aback for a split second before that disarming grin returned.

“Eh, maybe not,” he said, shrugging. “But that’s not a bad thing. The world doesn’t need two Gojos running around, anyway.”

There was a twinkle in his smile when he said it, and you could almost laugh at how absurd it all was—this man who was supposed to be untouchable, invincible, speaking to you like you were equals. But you couldn’t laugh. Not when your every instinct screamed at you to pull away, to build back the barriers you were letting crumble.

Gojo tapped your shoulder lightly, pulling you from your thoughts. “Anyway, don’t be a stranger, kiddo. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his retreating figure leaving you standing in the courtyard, more confused than ever. His words echoed in your mind, louder than the commands of your clan, drowning out everything you had been taught.

You had a purpose. You knew that. But with every passing day, Gojo’s light grew harder to ignore, and with it, the lines between duty and something else blurred just a little more.

The day it all fell apart, you had known something was wrong. The air at Jujutsu High felt different, heavier. You felt it in the eyes of your fellow students, in the whispers that followed your steps like shadows. But you pushed it aside. You couldn’t afford to be paranoid, not when your mission was still incomplete.

Then, they came for you.

The higher-ups descended upon you like vultures, swift and merciless. You were cornered before you could even react, their curses restraining you, leaving no room for escape. There was no explanation, no warning. One moment, you were walking through the quiet halls of the school, the next, you were shackled, powerless to move.

“Traitor,” one of them spat, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

Traitor. The word hit you like a physical blow, even though you knew this moment was inevitable. They had found out. Somehow, the secret you had been born to protect, the purpose that had been hidden deep within you, had unraveled before you could even make your move.

“Wait—” you managed to choke out, but the words were cut off as a curse tightened around your throat, rendering you silent.

It didn’t matter what you had to say. They wouldn’t listen.

Without hesitation, they dragged you through the halls, past the familiar places that had once been a reluctant sanctuary. Your heart pounded, not from fear, but from frustration, from the injustice of it all. You hadn’t betrayed anyone. You hadn’t even acted yet. But that didn’t matter to them. The mere existence of your mission was enough to condemn you.

You were brought before Gojo. His figure loomed in the doorway as you were shoved into the room, your body weak and trembling from the restraints. His face was unreadable beneath the blindfold, and for the first time, the usual warmth he carried was nowhere to be found.

“They’ve told me everything.” His voice was flat, no longer laced with the teasing affection he had once directed at you.

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, but nothing came out. What could you say? How could you justify your existence, when you had been molded to destroy him? You saw no sympathy in his stance, no compassion in his expression. Gojo Satoru, the man who had once laughed with you, called you “kiddo,” and made you feel like a person—he wasn’t there anymore.

“Take her away,” one of the higher-ups ordered, and without a word of defense, you were dragged from the room.

The arrest was swift. Brutal.

For days, you were left in the darkness. Deprived of food, of water, of any semblance of humanity. Your once-sharp mind dulled under the crushing weight of hunger and thirst. Your body bore the marks of countless interrogation sessions, each one harsher than the last. Bruises lined your arms and legs, dark and angry. Your skin was caked in dirt, your clothes torn from the repeated brutality.

They wanted answers—answers you couldn’t give them. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t have them. The mission had always been shrouded in secrecy, known only to the highest echelons of your clan. You had been a weapon, nothing more, trained to follow orders without question.

But that didn’t stop the interrogations. The demands for information. The relentless accusations.

“You were here to kill him, weren’t you?” one interrogator sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “To kill Gojo Satoru.”

You said nothing. Your voice was too hoarse, too broken to respond, even if you had wanted to. And what could you say? That you were born for it? That every step of your life had been carefully crafted for this singular purpose?

They wouldn’t care. They had already made up their minds.

Hours turned into days, and you lost track of time. The pain became a constant companion, dulling your senses until you could barely feel it anymore. Your body was weak, battered, and your spirit was crumbling under the weight of it all.

But the worst part wasn’t the physical pain.

It was the silence from Gojo.

There was no rescue, no sudden reprieve. The man who had once filled your days with light and laughter hadn’t come for you. He hadn’t defended you. You were nothing more than a mission now—a failed one at that.

In your darkest moments, you thought about the way he had smiled at you, the way he had made you feel like you were more than just a weapon. But it was all na illusion, wasn’t it? A fleeting lie you had allowed yourself to believe.

You were no one. Nothing. Just a tool that had outlived its usefulness.

And now, you were paying the price.

The room was cold. Sterile. The light above flickered faintly, casting weak shadows across the bare walls. You had been left alone for what felt like days again, your wrists raw from the restraints, your body aching from the strain of hunger and exhaustion. The silence was unbearable, almost worse than the interrogation. It gave your mind too much room to wander, to dwell on everything that had happened, on how completely you had failed.

You didn’t expect him to come. Not after all this time. Not after the accusations and the punishments that followed. Gojo Satoru wasn’t someone you thought you’d see again—not after the higher-ups had laid bare your betrayal. But when the door opened, and the familiar white-haired figure stepped through, your heart sank.

He was here.

The Bearer of the Six Eyes.

There was no familiar grin, no teasing lilt in his voice as he stepped into the room, his tall frame dominating the small, confining space. His blindfold was still in place, but you knew he could see you with perfect clarity—your disheveled hair, the bruises on your arms, the dirt staining your once-clean uniform. He could see it all, and yet he remained silent for a long moment, taking in the sight of you in chains.

“You’re a hard one to track down, you know that, kid?” Gojo’s voice, though light as ever, carried na edge you hadn’t heard before.

Kid. It stung now, more than it ever had. It felt like mockery, like a reminder of the bond you had lost—the bond you had destroyed with your silence and your deception. You looked up at him, your gaze bitter, hollow. His presence was still too much, too bright even in this dismal place. You swallowed the bitter taste that rose in your throat, refusing to allow any weakness to show.

“It’s Gojo Satoru now, isn’t it?” you said, your voice raw but firm. “Or maybe you’d prefer Bearer of the Six Eyes?”

The shift in how you addressed him was palpable, heavy with resentment. It wasn’t Gojo-sensei anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to call him that now—not after everything. The title you had once used with some semblance of warmth felt foreign, twisted in your mouth. Gojo stood there, unmoving, the weight of your words hanging between you like a wall.

He frowned, just barely, but enough for you to notice. “Gojo Satoru, huh?” His tone was soft, almost questioning. “That’s a bit formal, don’t you think?”

You didn’t answer, keeping your gaze on the floor, refusing to meet his eyes—Six Eyes, the very thing that had marked him as untouchable. The reason you had been made. You felt sick with anger, with the weight of everything that had been forced upon you, the mission that had led you here, to this moment of utter defeat.

Gojo moved closer, the sound of his footsteps reverberating in the small room, and you felt his presence looming over you. His voice came again, quieter now. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to talk like that.”

You let out a bitter laugh, hollow and strained. “What does it matter now? After everything, do you think I could still call you Gojo-sensei? I’m not your student. I never was. I was a weapon, designed to destroy you.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. You could feel his eyes on you, even behind the blindfold. He was studying you, seeing through your bitterness, through the layers of anger and betrayal you had wrapped yourself in.

“And yet, you didn’t try to kill me,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “If you were really just a weapon, you would’ve made your move by now.”

You clenched your fists, your body trembling with the effort to stay composed. “I couldn’t. I—” The words caught in your throat, too tangled with emotions you didn’t understand. “You don’t get it, Gojo Satoru. You were never supposed to be… like this. You were too—too bright. Too human. It made everything harder.”

For a moment, Gojo said nothing. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the tension between the two of you—the unspoken things hanging in the air, the weight of your mission pressing down on both of you. Then, without warning, he crouched down in front of you, bringing himself to your level.

“I don’t know what your clan told you, what they made you believe,” he said quietly, his voice almost too soft, “but you’re not just a weapon. I saw you, kid. I still see you.”

You flinched at the word ‘kid,’ but there was no teasing in his tone now. It was just Gojo—Gojo, who had once laughed and joked with you, who had treated you like a person, not na enemy. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to see you. He wasn’t supposed to care.

“You don’t get it,” you repeated, your voice breaking. “This is what I was made for. My whole life—it was all for this. For you.”

Gojo was silent for a long moment, his expression softening. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle but firm. “And now that they’ve thrown you away, what are you going to do?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They used you, kid. They molded you into something to fight me. And now that the higher-ups know, they’re done with you. They don’t care what happens to you.”

His words hit harder than any physical blow. You had always known, deep down, that your clan saw you as nothing more than a tool. But hearing it spoken aloud—hearing Gojo say it—felt like a knife twisting in your gut.

“You don’t have to keep living like this,” Gojo continued, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “You can choose something else.”

You stared at him, disbelief flickering in your eyes. “Choose? What choice do I have left?”

Gojo tilted his head, his tone softening. “You could stay. Stay here, at Jujutsu High. Be my student. For real this time.”

The suggestion hit you like a punch to the chest. Stay? After everything? You shook your head, the weight of the offer too much to bear. “I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Not after all this. Not after what I was meant to do.”

Gojo remained silent for a moment, as if considering your words. Then he stood up, his tall frame once again towering over you. “You were meant to do a lot of things, kid,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “But maybe it’s time to figure out what you want.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you alone once again. But this time, his words lingered in the air, heavy and full of possibility.

What did you want?

For the first time in your life, you weren’t sure.

Days passed, and with them, the cold, unfeeling walls of your confinement started to feel like a prison not just for your body but for your mind. Your thoughts swirled endlessly in circles, replaying the words Gojo had left you with. His offer to stay. To be his student—for real this time. But after everything you’d been through, after the torture and betrayal, it felt like a cruel joke. How could you possibly belong here?

Yet there was something in his voice that made it hard to dismiss. Something genuine, as though he saw a future for you where you couldn’t.

Late one night, the sound of voices broke through the stillness of your cell. Raised, agitated, echoing down the hall.

“Are you out of your mind, Gojo? She’s dangerous! Her entire purpose is to be a weapon against you!” one of the higher-ups growled.

“That was her clan’s decision, not hers,” Gojo’s voice shot back, sharp as a blade. “She didn’t ask to be born into that. You can’t punish her for what she never had a choice in.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Gojo was fighting for you?

“She’s a liability,” another voice chimed in. “We can’t risk keeping her alive. If she turns on you—”

Gojo’s laughter was cold and bitter. “Turns on me? You’ve already turned on her. You locked her up and tortured her for something she hasn’t even done. And now you’re talking about killing her? You think that’s going to solve anything?”

The silence that followed was heavy, the tension palpable even from your cell. You didn’t know what to think. Gojo was the last person you expected to go against the higher-ups, to stand between you and their judgment. And yet, here he was, doing exactly that.

“You don’t get to make this call, Gojo,” one of the higher-ups snapped. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment.”

“My emotions?” Gojo’s voice dropped, cold and dangerous. “If you think I’m doing this out of sentimentality, you’re more delusional than I thought. She has potential. If you kill her now, you’re wasting a resource that could be used to our advantage.”

“Potential?” The disbelief in their tone was unmistakable. “You think she could be of use to us after everything? She’s too unpredictable.”

“That’s because you’ve given her no reason to trust you,” Gojo responded, unyielding. “Let her train. Let her join Jujutsu High. I’ll take responsibility for her. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be the first to know.”

Another long pause followed, thick with hesitation. Finally, one of the higher-ups spoke, his voice clipped. “Fine. But if she steps out of line, she’s dead.”

The weight of their words settled over you like a lead blanket. They were giving you a chance, but only under Gojo’s watch. And the moment you made a wrong move, you’d pay the ultimate price.

Moments later, the door to your cell creaked open, and Gojo’s figure appeared in the doorway, his face obscured but unmistakable.

“Come on, kid,” he said, his tone softer than before. “You’re getting out of here.”

You hesitated, your body weak from confinement, but you pushed yourself to your feet. Every movement was painful, your muscles protesting after days of inactivity, but you forced yourself to stand tall as Gojo led you out of the cell. The air in the hallway was cooler, fresher, but it did little to ease the tension coiled in your chest.

As you walked in silence, following him through the winding halls, the weight of everything crashed down on you. Why was he doing this? Why was he fighting for you?

“You really fought for me,” you muttered as you walked beside him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gojo shrugged, his expression unreadable behind his blindfold. “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let them throw you away just because they’re scared.”

“But why?” you asked, unable to stop yourself.

He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression softened, though you couldn’t see his eyes. “Because if you’re a weapon,” he said, his voice low and steady, “so am I.”

You froze. The words hit you like a punch to the chest, so simple yet so profound. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer in the world, was admitting that he, too, was a tool—someone shaped by forces beyond his control.

For the first time, you didn’t have a response. You simply stared at him, the weight of his words pressing down on you.

Gojo didn’t wait for you to recover. He started walking again, his tone shifting back to its usual teasing lilt. “But seriously, just stop calling me ‘Gojo Satoru.’ It’s way too formal, and it makes me feel old.”

Despite everything, you felt a small, reluctant smile tug at the corner of your lips. “What should I call you, then?”

He grinned, though you couldn’t see it, you could hear it in his voice. “Gojo-sensei has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not happening.”

He laughed, the sound light and carefree, as if the darkness of the last few weeks had never touched him. “Fine, fine. Just don’t be so stiff about it, okay?”

The playful tone felt strange after everything, but it was oddly comforting. This was the Gojo you knew, the one who joked and teased, who acted like nothing could ever touch him. And somehow, even after everything, he was still the same.

When you reached the gates of Jujutsu High, Gojo paused, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You can stay here. Train. Learn. Be a student for real this time. But you have to choose it.”

You looked up at him, your chest tight with uncertainty. “What if I can’t? What if I fail?”

He smiled, that familiar, infuriating grin returning at last. “Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. But for now, just focus on being yourself. You don’t have to carry that weight anymore.”

The sincerity in his voice took you by surprise. After so long of being treated as nothing more than a tool, hearing someone speak to you like this felt foreign, strange. You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply nodded, too tired and overwhelmed to say anything.

As you stepped through the gates of Jujutsu High, leaving behind the darkness of your past, Gojo walked beside you, no longer na enemy, no longer a rival, but something else. Something you couldn’t name yet, but for the first time in your life, you felt the faint stirrings of hope.

“Gojo-sensei,” you muttered under your breath, testing the word.

He immediately perked up, flashing you a triumphant grin. “See? I knew you’d come around.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile found its way to your face. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end. Maybe it was the beginning of something new. And this time, you had the choice.

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[mykneeshurt]

Heyy!

How would 141 + Rudy and Alejandro react to the Reader that haves a tongue piercing?

TONGUE BAR SUPREMACY ON THIS PAGE! I recently bought a new bar for mine hehe. Found out my husband used to have his tongue pierced but took it out. He won’t put it back in. The wanker.

Warnings - allusions to smut, smut themes, piercings, gender neutral reader

Price 🥃

The first time Price saw your tongue piercing was when you were helping him with his reports. When you concentrate you had a cute habit of sticking your tongue out slightly. He loved it when your tongue grazed your top lip, as you desperately tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

He noticed a small black ball in your mouth which peaked his interest. ‘What’s that?’ He asked nodding towards your mouth. ‘This?’ You asked opening your mouth, your tongue piercing now in full view. ‘I didn’t know you had that.’

You smiled. ‘Yeah, don’t normally advertise it, like to see how long it takes people to notice.’ Price swallowed, hard. All he could think about was how it would feel grazing along the shaft of his cock. ‘Why’d you get it?’ He asked, trying to reposition himself in his chair subtly. Dropping the papers you walked around the desk, standing above him you ran your tongue along your teeth.

‘How about I show you instead?’

Soap 🧼

Soap hadn’t noticed you piercing until he felt it run along his tongue during a heavy make out session. He felt the small metal ball run along his tongue as he swiped his inside your mouth.

He pulled back ‘you’ve got your tongue pierced?!’ He almost sounded excited. You nodded, partly confused. ‘I used to have mine pierced! Took it out a long time ago though. Might have to put it back in.’

‘Oh cool! Will it go back in?’ You asked partly agitated, you wanted to go back to kissing. ‘I dunno maybe you can help me?’

You stroked his face, ‘maybe. But if you don’t start kissing me again I’m going to punch you.’ Taking that as his cue he placed his lips on yours once again, satisfying your hunger for him.

Ghost 💀

Ghost first saw your tongue bar when you poked your tongue out at him one day. You’d been sparring and he managed to get you in the floor. Flat on your back, completely at his mercy under his body. ‘Gotta be quicker than that to catch me’ he quipped. Rolling your eyes you stuck your tongue out.

Noticing the silver ball embedded in your tongue he took a double take. ‘Didn’t realise you had it pierced’ he said, somewhat surprised. You shrugged, still underneath him. He hummed to himself as he lifted his mask, sticking his tongue out you saw he had his pierced too.

‘I fuckin knew it!’ You shrieked in excitement. He allowed himself a small laugh ‘oh?’

‘Yeah, call it my super power. I can normally tell when people have it done.’

‘What gave me away’ he asked lowering himself closer to your face. ‘I can hear you playing with it for one. Two. You just look the type.’

‘Not much of a super power if you ask me.’

‘Wasn’t aware I was asking you’ you smiled. Your lips were dangerously close to one another’s now. Little did you know but Ghost couldn’t have been more turned on than he was right now.

Gaz 🇬🇧

You were out on a date with Gaz, at your favourite Italian in London. He was finally home from deployment, he’d promised you a proper date when he got back.

You were tucking into your pasta dish when you accidentally bit into the ball of your piercing. ‘Aw shit’ you muttered to your self, checking to see if you’d cracked your tooth.

‘You alright?’ Gaz asked peeking over the rim of the wine glass. ‘Yeah, just bit my tongue bar is all. So annoying when that happens.’ Gaz did a double take, eyebrows furrowed. ‘You’ve got your tongue pierced?’ His mind instantly took him to the dirtiest of places, he placed his hand over his mouth to hide is smirk.

Scoffing into your wine glass you smoked ‘play your cards right and maybe I’ll let you know what it feels like.’

Alejandro 🌹

Alejandro noticed your tongue bar straight away, he always watched your lips when you spoke. Wanting to kiss them, make them his own.

He’d never kissed anyone with a tongue bar before, he wanted to know what it felt like. If he could even feel it at all. He day dreamed about kissing you all the time he just had to plan to make his move.

Rudy ❤️

Rudy first saw your tongue bar when you had all gone out for ice cream. It was a team building day and due to how hot it was, you all went to the local ice cream parlour.

You sat opposite him, ice cream in hand and as you swiped at your frozen treat with your tongue he noticed the small metal ball. The tongue bar left a small divet in the soft cream. A small drop of the vanilla ice cream fell from the corner of your mouth.

Boring your gaze into Rudy you licked at the stray drop causing him to flinch in the chair. Licking again at the ice cream you slowed your pace dawn, this time making sure he got a full view of your tongue bar. Biting your lip you winked at him before sauntering off to the toilet. Hoping he’d take the hint to follow you.

[wheatcak3]

JSJFJSJNF GAKMFKWNDENNANWHGS HES SO 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️

Okay but the way @wheatcak3 's rocker bard got me in a choke hold---

[mychlapci]

Okay so, me and a friend of mine are rping and in it Drift was being the best fucking powerbottom

Anyway, hear me out, everyone assuming Drift has small titties from his flat chestplate but once they slide back a nice fat set of titties are there, with nipple piercings, with a chain connected to those piercings.

100% when Ratchet and Rodimus found out they immediately put it to use, yanking on the chain hard enough to cause drift to overload, his valve a mess of his own fluids and his mates, the same with his spike.

Out of all three of them 100% Drifts got some piercings on his valve, spike titties, and tongue, he was freaky back when he was Deadlock and never got them removed, which are definitely why Rpdimus is addicted to that spike, And Ratchet teasing the shit outta drifts valve

i believe in pierced Drift supremacy <3 pierced tongue, pierced valve, pierced titties... he has several in fact, with pretty chains connecting them... Ratchet and Rodimus make good use of 'em <3

[shybunny]

ANYTHING THAT INVOLVES A VAMPIRE PRIEST????????? VAMPIRE PRIEST SUPREMACY

vampire priest supremacy orz

🔞 this post contains erotic writing intended for adults. do not interact with this post if you are a minor/under eighteen

😇 biting, blood-drinking, hands free orgasm 😈 dubcon (seriously), blood, pain, fear

You’ve teased him and toyed with him and tempted him for so long that you’re sure he’s half-mad with lust for you by now. You finally manage to corner him alone in the rectory one night, and you make a pass at him for real, pressing close to him and telling him that you’ve seen him watching you, you’ve seen the way his eyes follow you whenever you walk by. Wouldn’t it be such a relief to give in, Father? You smile to yourself when he finally snaps. He grabs your shoulders and moves in to kiss your jaw, your neck, full-on licking your throat before you know what’s happening. It’s happening too fast; you try to pull back but his hands grip you tighter, unheeding, almost hurting. You start to feel a little disgust, a little fear. “What are you doing—?” you ask as he opens his mouth against you, teeth scraping against your skin, and then you gasp as you feel the piercing pain, as he bites down hard on your neck, pinning you in place, his sharp incisors piercing the skin. You feel his wet tongue moving against the wounds, and you feel his ragged groan of relief where your chest is pressed to his. He’s drinking your blood. You have no idea what to do. You sag into his arms but he holds you up, supporting your weight as he drinks from your neck, messily sucking and moaning into the raw wound. Jesus Christ, you thought he just wanted to fuck you. You want to be terrified but something about this is so much hotter, even through your fear you feel yourself becoming aroused. So this is how badly he's needed you. You sink even heavier against him and he stumbles back against the wall, sinking down against it and dragging you down into his arms, all without breaking his teeth’s tight hold on your throat. His arms are wrapped around your limp body, his hand cupping the back of your head, his mouth on your neck, groaning and sucking. You groan along with him, light-headed and breathless, shocked and turned on by the raw animal violence that was hidden inside this timid man.

He’s not even finished goring your neck. The wound is running dry, and for one moment of relief his teeth unclench from around your throat, only to bite down harder from a different angle, tearing open a new set of wounds. You moan embarrassingly but it’s drowned out by his own deep-throated groan as more of your blood pours into his mouth. He wraps his lips around your neck and starts to suck again, large hands clutching you tightly against him, long legs tangled with yours, bodies rocking against each other as he drinks from you, and as he holds you close to him and licks and sucks your neck you feel an urgent pressure building inside you suddenly, stunning you as it grows tighter and tighter in your stomach, until you’re cumming pathetically in his arms, cumming with his fangs buried in your neck, trying so hard to keep still, to keep it hidden from him that you’re falling apart like this. You bite back your tiny desperate cries, tense and shaking in his arms, until it finally ends and you slump against him with an exhausted sigh, feeling the urgency go out of his own body as he finally sucks the second wound dry, both of you heaving against each other with ragged, shaking breaths. You feel his jaw unclench, and he slowly releases your throat, blood rushing back into the compressed and bleeding skin. You feel his hot heavy breath against your neck. You’d kill to know what he’s thinking right now. Is this normal for him? Is he blaming himself? Does he hate you? Love you? Does he know, could he tell that you were cumming for him, just from that?

[herasversion]

Hogwarts Hearts: Love Beyond Houses

Summary: "Magic Hearts: Love Beyond Houses" unravels the tale of you, a Potter in Hogwarts, and Regulus, entangled in a forbidden romance. Through secret smiles and family tensions, your love challenges preconceived notions, proving that even within the enchanted halls of Hogwarts, hearts can defy boundaries.

a/n: This is my First Regulus black x reader Story, Hope you like it ! ( : Please let my know what you think and reblog and like. Also my requests are open(:

In the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, where the whispers of the past echoed through the stone walls, two unlikely souls found themselves entangled in a story that transcended the boundaries of blood and ideology. You, with your unruly hair and Gryffindor bravery, clashed with Regulus Black, a Slytherin whose dashing beauty, tall stature, dark hair, and gorgeous eyes hid a complexity within.

From the very beginning, you and Regulus were destined to be enemies. Your disdain for the pure-blood supremacy that the Black family embraced clashed with Regulus's loyalty to his family's ideals. Your paths crossed in the most unexpected of ways, each encounter a tumultuous dance of conflicting emotions.

Regulus, with his sharp tongue and piercing gaze, maintained an air of aloofness that earned him a reputation as a cold and distant Slytherin. You, however, couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Regulus than met the eye. The more your paths intersected, the more you sensed a vulnerability beneath the icy exterior.

As fate would have it, a twist of destiny threw you together on a mission to retrieve a mysterious object hidden deep within a cave – a mission that would force you to confront your differences and forge an unexpected connection. The journey was perilous, the challenges daunting, but as you faced the magical defenses protecting the hidden object, the walls between you and Regulus began to crumble.

In the quiet moments when danger lurked around every corner, you glimpsed a different side of Regulus – a softer side that contradicted the harsh exterior. Regulus, too, discovered that beneath your rebellious spirit was a genuine concern for others, even for a Slytherin.

As the layers of animosity peeled away, an unspoken understanding blossomed between you and Regulus. The sarcastic banter evolved into shared smiles, and the tension that once defined your relationship morphed into something unexpected. The line between enemies and allies blurred, leaving room for a connection neither of you had anticipated.

In the heart of that cave, facing the echoes of the past and the looming uncertainty of the future, you and Regulus emerged into the light, forever bound by a love that defied the conventions of your world. The enemies-to-lovers tale that unfolded within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts would be whispered about for generations to come, a reminder that love could conquer even the darkest of forces.

a/n: Let me know what you think as this is a different writing style then I use most of the time ( :

[scaryspears]

Coming from a card-carrying Kitana stan who also thinks Jade is super dope:

You forgot the part where Kabal accuses Jade of torture and we have no reason not to believe him.

Seriously, you are the second person I've seen hold Jade accountable for anything. Kitana deserves every bit of condemnation she gets (and possibly more) for how cruel she can be, but Jade gets off easy because people only see the Super Chill Bestie and not someone with very low regard for Tarkatans and their lives.

Having said that, what /do/ you admire about Jade and Kitana? I'm not sure what would be more dope than "at least somewhat racist" and "despot in training" are crappy. (Personally, I think it's super badass that Kitana defeated Shao Kahn, gained a masculine title, and led armies into battle. And Jade, well, who wouldn't want Jade as their bestie? Other than a Tarkatan, obviously.)

This is a mouthful, I know, but it's been driving me nuts and I'd be remiss not to address the seamy side of my favorite dynamic duo.

P.S. God tier username. Britney Spears and the Spice Girls were my jam as a kid, and I'm glad to see someone else remembers them. My sister and I had the Scary Spice doll with the tongue piercing lol

Thank you for the compliments on my user name, I listened to them a lot growing up.

When writing the headcanons I had to try my best to not be distracted by the fact that I'm a Mileena stan, and even then I will hold Mileena accountable, so Kitana and Jade do not get a free pass.

There's many occasions where they've shown that they are pretty terrible, and even though they are cool characters, they are unlikable people. Golly, I'd even say that they are hypocrites. They call everyone else out for their ego when they themselves are egotistical. To be fair, it's not just them that have a holier than thou attitude, but quick reminder that Sonya beat them both one on two in MK9 and they both continued showing hostility towards Earthrealmers and a sense of underestimating others.

Kitana is more Outworld than she is Edenian regardless of blood, and if she grew up thinking her father to be Shao Kahn then how did she even know she was Edenian? How did Jade know?

Edenian supremacy is just wild because their realm got conquered and are living in servitude to Shao Kahn or any big bad that comes along. Jade's parents literally gave her away for their own skin.

I pictured the alliance Kitana had with the Tarkatans not going well because she clearly still holds some discriminating views against them. It doesn't help that the Tarkatans are only shown to be servants meaning they (Kitana and Jade) grew up with the mentality of looking down on them.

The only thing I admire about Jade and Kitana is that they are fun to play as and have nice wardrobes, but that's it. I'm supposed to be rooting for her, yet she has a poor attitude. Don't get me wrong, a lot of the good guys have flaws that I can't look over. It's hinted that Sonya abused Cassie by randomly attacking her and Jacqui with arm bars (what the...), and she also looks down on people who don't have similar interests as her (from what I've interpreted). She's also terrible at parenting. I also headcanon that Cassie joined the special forces in order to impress Sonya, not because she actually wanted to.

I could say a lot about the characters, not just Kitana and Jade. And don't get me started on Kotal Kahn, he is such a clown. He and Jade deserve each other, honestly.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

final part of @secretarykang's ask since gil already has drunk hcs

gilbert feinze fashion headcanons

this man is a walking fashion icon tho like srsly he looks like someone who poses for the chanel magazine

gil actually knows what style fits him and the colors that would suit him so his servants are adamant on ensuring his wardrobe is top notch as possible

in fact, there's a time when gil punished some of them for handing him clothes that are too itchy he had to struggle during meetings with other clans (he just didn't feed them blood for like uhh one week which is torture in itself)

his color palette revolves on autumn browns and nudes? he's basically like a walking maple leaf at this point

he recently found out black items don't suit him as much as people make it out to be tho he wears black mostly when he is going to war conferences

most of gil's clothes in the demon world have victorian-esque with dark academia touch to it since he's the head of the feinze clan and he has to look like royalty so he assumes the post

he's more on long coats, white dress shirts with long sleeves, dark trousers, brown boots, and ofc attention to detail like silver link cuffs and piercings (yes he never forgets his piercings)

another item that he never lives without is his wedding ring since it's the only thing he got from giselle

also carries around a golden pocket watch that he exclusively got from karlheinz (so he would know if he reversed time and did some sht he needed to cover up)

tbh gil thought of doing like a tongue and nose piercing but he just went "I don't want them anymore" bcos he found out that he would experience talking like a baby and looking like a cow

btw he owns a lot of ruby jewelry bcos they remind him of blood (after all he stopped drinking blood ever since giselle died)

when he lived in paris, he would opt for trench coats and suits that would emphasize his frame (and he realized girls really dig him in suits bcos he be walking on the streets and they just come to him bcos he looks so good)

but when he resided in japan, he believed in kimono supremacy

like what suit? he'd rather wear kimonos since they're more comfy and the sleeves are loose and he can move and about

and yes, the color palettes would vary... kinda leaning more on the warm orange and red tones. but tbh gil had a hard time looking for the perfect kimonos and yukatas that would fit him

that was until he found out abt this manga called xxxHOLIC and he got all his kimono inspirations from watanuki kimihiro (aka main character of said manga)

one might think he's a cosplaying adult especially when he walks around in kaminashi 😭😭😭

for his footwear, he owns a lot of shoes (like he doesn't only settle for the classics) but one thing he doesn't wear that much are sneakers??? and it has something to do with his adult image like basically this guy makes sure he looks adult

even said one time, "at least I don't go to Ryoutei and pretend like I'm some kind of teenage transfer student" isthisshinandcarla

he mostly wears derby and oxford dress shoes since they are easier to pair with most of his suits. but when he's wearing a kiono, he would either go for a simple geta pair or his classic black brogue boots

ofc gil is not complete without perfumes bcos this guy owns a lot since he has lived for a long time. while there are tons of perfumes that's been out in the market, he always deviates towards chanel no 5 (aka one of the most hated perfumes by many)

and yes, he knew what the original chanel no 5 smelled like, hence he found the newer ones so different than what it smelled before

it's actually frustrating how gil can pull off this perfume and smell good even tho many people say it smells like an old grandma soap

he even bought the accompanying soap and lotion like anything chanel no 5 he has (even the giant bottle)

one time devyn passed by his office and she told him he really smelled so good like wood and tea and clean soap and when she asked his perfume, gil casually pulled out the bottle much to her own horror

"Are you kidding me? That famous Chanel no. 5 is your perfume?"

"I'm not. Why are you making a face like that?"

fun fact: chanel no 5 is also giselle's perfume

[clem-chan]

Flash Fic Weekend Event Part 1

organized by the @ino-supremacy server

Prompts: “It hurts.”/“I know.” & strawberry field

Title: Awakening

Pairing: GaaIno

Summary: The Lord of the Underworld picked his queen in a greenhouse the same way he would have picked a flower.

Rating: T

Word count: 491

Read it under the cut

In the greenhouse, there was no wind, but his robes billowed with each step.

Ino watched him through heavy lids. The humidity of the greenhouse lulled her mind, stretching past her defenses; she was dizzy, too relaxed, barely hanging on to the strong scent of soil and leaves.

At the back of her throat, Ino tasted rot. It drenched her. It drenched the air.

Gaara walked past her, and Ino rolled her shoulders back, tasting her sweat on her upper lip. Him. It was him who smelled of rot, she thought wildly, and her body sank deeper, her mind drifted.

A smile floated on his lips, fleeting.

And a part of her awoken briefly, terrified, gripping at her plants, clawing at reality.

Gaara’s fingers trailed on the table, fluttering, hunting. He hummed as he made his way between the potted plants, only pausing to admire the burst of colours of the flowers. Quietly to himself, he said the names of some of the plants before turning back his gaze toward her.

She fought against his gaze, and the overpowering rotting scent he carried.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she sucked in a deep breath. Weakly, her fingers searched behind her for support. They shook, they probed. They found nothing.  She sat down. And down, and down.

Her feet went through the ground, soil piled up on top of her.

She startled awake again, and again, griping at a drifting soil, her nails biting, black. In front of her, Gaara was now inches from her, towering over her. His pale eyes expanded, swallowing her whole.

“It hurts,” Ino mumbled through ashen lips, shivering, tears rimming her eyes.

She could feel herself dying, her body half-way through the ground. The soil shifted, ceding and receding, and it pulled and pushed and crushed her.

“I know,” Gaara said gently, and his hand pushed her farther down, to the underworld.  

Later, when Ino woke up, she was lying in a field of strawberries, her lips puckered, reddened. She could almost still taste the strawberries on her tongue.

She turned her head, her vision whirling. The sky was wrong, too red. The soil was too dry, only the strawberries moved, while the rest was terribly still.

The wind caught the overwhelming scent of strawberry, shaking the rooted limbs of the plants, agitating their leaves.

Ino blinked.

She barely remembered her greenhouse; it pierced through her mind in flickers, a distant dream.

Her hands curled by her sides, digging through the soil.

Ino looked down at them. They were sticky, painfully red, from the juice of the strawberries she had eaten. She raised her hands to her face, blocking out a blackened sun, and when she did, darkness fell upon her and the strawberries.

“Welcome to the Underworld,” Gaara said, by her head.

She shivered as he combed through her long golden hair.

“This is your home now,” he added, and Ino’s soul flicked out of existence.

[kwonhoshi0]

(yess i am doing this now)

okk so headcannon: i bet bakugou would be heavily tattooed and pierced tho!!! like he would have sleeves on both arms (and ofcourse all might tattoo bc tbh he the biggest nerd out there). also dont get me started on peircings - imagine him with a lip piercing or a belly button piercing or somewhere else🤧

yeah i will stop now

jesus lord JUST BAKUGOU WITH A TONGUE PIERCING IS,,, heavenly, idk if you follow @ realbakugou on instagram but it’s like what bakugous insta acc would be and the creator makes fanart and they gave him a tongue piercing and i WENT F E R AL

also something i find .. F U n is that bakugou is 6 days younger than me if he is his written age LIKE .. s i x days younger than me ugh we’re both aries no wonder we’re both so damn angry

[perzawa]

can we get sum piercer!toji x first timer fem!reader drabble/oneshot pretty pleaseeee 😳😋

a/n: AA yes ofc, i love this sm, i believe in piercer/tattoo artist toji supremacy 

warnings/tags! semi public sex?? fem reader, piercer!toji, oral, praise kink 

“just gonna push this through here,” he starts, instantly pushing the sharp needle through the skin of your nose. you wince, eyes pricking with hot tears. a grin of confidence stretches on your lips. your eyes stay shut while you bask in the feeling of a cold metal stud sliding through your nose. it stings, but only for a second. his rough hand gently grips your chin as he smiles down at you. the scar on his lips causes a familiar feeling to spread in the depth of your stomach. 

“you were cryin’ so much before, but now look,” his thumb caresses your bottom lip as a demented expression overtakes his face. “took it so well, didn’t you?” 

you wipe your tears on the back of your hand and nod quickly, his approval filling you with warmth. your eyes dart to the ground and your face flushes when you think about toji’s promise to you. “can i…” you attempt to hide your face in your hands, but he stops you - your chin finding its way into his hand once again. “can i have my reward?”

toji brings your lips to his in a quick peck, his free hand squeezing the fat of your thigh. his scar is rough against your lip. you exhale hard, grabbing the hand on his thigh and pulling it between your thighs. “i’ll give it to you as promised, sweetheart.”

“so needy,” he whispers. roughly grabbing your hips and pulling them closer toward his torso. your eyebrows furrow once you feel his bulge press against your heat, grinding slowly. your shaky hands fly to the collar of his shirt, hips rolling in order to meet his. the bulge of his cock rubbing against your clothed clit makes you eager to pull your skirt up and panties to the side. “we can do whatever you want, sweet girl.” 

his cock feels so hard against you. feels so good. your brain short circuits when his hips roll down on your warm pussy harder, hand gently squeezing your hips. whimpers and unintelligible words fall from your lips as you take it, your body erupting in tingles and goosebumps. 

when it becomes too much, you have to gather the strength to push him away. “touch me, please. i was so good for you.” your thighs rub against each other desperately. 

toji only nods, advising you to lie back on the cot. he drops to his knees as he spread your legs wide open for him. his tooth sunk into his lip as if to control himself after seeing you this way. the cool air hit you and a gasp escaped your mouth. “this is what good girls get.” he breathed on your bare pussy, the flat of his tongue colliding with your heat. you shivered, fingers flying into his dark locks in an attempt to have him closer – if that’s even possible. 

you feel too dirty. this is the fourth time you’ve even spoken to the artist, only coming when your friends were getting piercings. somehow, your first time with him alone you end up on your back and his face between your thighs. 

you can only blame him for this.

his gravelly voice that makes your chest buzz just right. him and the scent of coffee and peppermints weighing heavily on his tongue. you can only think of his tongue and the way it runs over your clit, muscle flicking the sensitive bud until you’re squirming and heaving.

he chuckles into your cunt as he laps you up, starting from your seeping hole to your pretty little clit. you can barely stop the gentle moans from cascading past your lips, let alone quiet yourself – but you try. 

your body shakes as his tongue lazily licks you up and down, spreading your juices. your thighs press against his cheek as you grind onto his tongue, your head reeling. his eyes meet yours. “oh god,” you breathe out, hips bucking into his face once again. toji pulls away for seconds before pecking your thighs. 

“you gonna use my face like a good girl, hm?” he wriggles the tip of his tongue over your bud, nails digging into your ass. a familiar heat creeps up into your belly and it makes you sob. the flicks of his tongue range from lazy to quick in seconds – it’s so unpredictable, your world is spinning and your pussy is pulsating. your eyes fall shut as you spasm, teeth sinking into your lip while everything goes white. 

little gasps spill from your mouth as you come down from your high, thighs spasming against his hot cheek. your breaths come out uneven and your legs drop. 

“thank- god, thank you.” 

toji gives your pussy another lick before pulling away. 

the way your slick looks so perfect covering his lips has you in shambles. you exhale, eyes staring into his. you hope you’ll be coming back for another piercing, soon.