#like i’m harassed at work almost everyday

[wonysugar]

doing what’s right | huh yunjin

synopsis : you were always on top of your shit, and yunjin hated your fucking guts for it.

pairing : yunjin x fem!reader

genre : bully trope?? smut

tags : major hate sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism. yunjin’s a bitch, reader’s a goody two shoes and a virgin, jealousy, classroom, public sex kinda? teacherxstudent roleplay, is this considered tag teaming?? degrading names, stripping, slapping (like once but still), fingering, slight boob play, chaewon mention kinda? it’s hinted, dumbification lowkey? that funky stuff~~

!! warnings : dubcon turned consensual, threats of blackmail, degradation, humiliation, bullying, harassment, yknow… that stuff so don’t read if any of this makes you uncomfy please !!

word count : 3.2k

a/n : angsty yunjin coming out soon dw.. i just loved y’all too much to release unwarranted ass angst without some sort of apology beforehand😭enjoy! been wanting to write more dark stuff since you guys really liked minjeong? so YAYY!! also this is like so not proofread if you see any mistakes please ignore as i am so tiredgkefmm

also also obviously NEVER DO THIS TO ANYONE EVER THIS IS TRULY HORRENDOUS :(( and ofc if it’s being done to you CALL THE POLICE DO SMTHH THIS IS ACTUALLY HORRIBLEE?? this is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes and does not reflect my thoughts!!

“hey y/n, since you like studying so damn much, how about you do my assignments for me?” her friends giggled, enjoying the show, “how’s that sound, hm? i’m sure you’d enjoy it.”

you continued to write into your notebook, tending to your work as you ignored the unfunny comments that the group of annoying girls sent towards you, the most distracting one of them all being thrown was huh yunjin’s. you just kept trying to focus on the math equation in front of you as you heard their loud giggles and mumbles behind you.

it was confusing. she’d seem really nice if you didn’t know her, since she rarely was ever mean to other students. plus, she looked really friendly and put together, it was almost welcoming; her ginger hair always styled perfectly, her full face of gorgeous makeup that she somehow managed to put on everyday, the nice outfits she’d pull with such a basic uniform. no really, who knew you could do so much with just a blazer and a skirt? she looked and acted so kind towards everyone.

except you.

as it turns out, she just had a thing against you, apparently. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it wasn’t difficult to guess that she fucking hated your guts, it was apparent with how she’d glare at you whenever you walked past her, books in hand, or how she’d look at her friends whenever you rose your hand, putting on a mocking smile as she nodded along to you. i mean, it’s not like she pretended to like you, you were very aware of her feelings towards you.

you didn’t really care, though.

sure, you were kind of bummed out that somebody as kind-looking as yunjin disliked you at first, but what could you do, in the end? not everybody was gonna end up liking you, and that was okay. that’s what society is, after all. some people will like you, some people simply will not, and that’s just life. still, though, it’s not like you did anything to cause her to hate you.. did you?

nonetheless, slowly but surely, you started getting invested in your task again, the remarks of the girls eventually being tuned out of your brain as you grabbed your calculator. 

that is, until you felt her more than overwhelming presence behind your shoulder. you could only sigh, 

god damn it.

she pulled on a strand of your hair as she threw her history book on the desk, startling you, “d’you hear me, bitch? the bell rang ages ago, either you go home and leave, or you stay here, be a useful little student and do my work. your choice.” 

you heard her friends cackle on the other side of the classroom as she pestered you.

god, and you were actually getting something done, for once.

standing up in a swift motion, you groaned and quickly picked up all of your things before shoving them inside your bag, getting ready to leave.

“since you asked so nicely.” was all you said, annoyed and heading straight for the door, your hand almost coming in contact with the doorknob. you were about to leave.

until she grabbed your hair and pulled you back, making you land butt-first on the ground, earning a collective laugh from the others.

“ow— w-what the fuck is wrong with you???” you yelled, grabbing the back of your hair, where she pulled on, caressing said spot in hopes of soothing it. 

“what’s wrong with you? i ask you a question, and you don’t answer?? not what i expected from miss goody-two-shoes..” she mocked, wearing a fake pout as she slightly tilted her head, “i’m incredibly disappointed, y/n..” 

you could only furrow your eyebrows and narrow your eyes at her, because what the fuck was actually wrong with her?? yeah, she was always annoying, but she never got violent with you, what changed today?

“no seriously, yunjin, what did i ever do to you?” you stood back up, unconsciously leaving your bag on the floor, “ever since i’ve met you, you’ve just been nothing but a bitch to me, and only me. seriously, tell me, what did i do to you?”

she, in response, only looked back at her friends who were sitting back and watching you two go at it, no really, they even grabbed chairs.

“what didn’t you do?” when she looked back at you, something in her eyes shifted, her gaze was no longer playful, it seemed evil, “everytime i look at you, you’re always on top of your shit,  always doing what’s right. i mean— for fuck’s sake, your posture’s always straight, your assignments are always done, your grades are fucking perfect, your goddamn locker’s organized…  and at lunch? you’re doing homework. you’re so— you’re just so fucking annoying. you realize that, right?” 

…was this seriously what this was all about? you took school seriously, and she didn’t, so she was.. mad about it?? i mean— you’re literal seniors, of course you were gonna take school seriously? you looked back at her, still processing everything. you were perplexed, and she was stepping closer to you as you backed away, unconsciously pinning yourself against the wall.

“i-im sorry..? i really didn’t mean to make it seem like i was rubbing it in your face—”

“see? there you go again, doing what’s right, as per usual. apologizing, being the bigger person, making me seem like the bitch here, right? i see right through your facade, y/n, you think you’re better than everyone, when really, you’re the worst kind of person out there.” 

at this point, she was inches away from your face, her gaze piercing through your soul like she was looking into the deep depths of your personality, searching for any sort of crack in your cool and composed demeanor. you always seemed so sure of yourself, she wanted to see you lose it, she wanted to see you lose control over everything around you, she was dying to see it.. 

but, much to her dismay, she found nothing.

“you’re fucking insane.” was what you whispered, looking at her with nothing but arrogance and worry in your expression. she stared back at you some more, before allowing herself to crack a distorted smile. what was she—

before you knew it, her lips roughly came into contact with yours as she grabbed your face, kissing you like she’d die if she didn’t. you were thrown off-guard, way off guard, especially because of how sudden this was from her, because of how sudden this was altogether. plus, the fact that you didn’t push her away just made it all so much more puzzling, why didn’t you? you were baffled, so baffled that you didn’t even realize her free hand roaming your body. she caressed all over your lower stomach, fingers tracing your thighs before reaching for your lower back, reaching under your skirt and cupping your ass almost immediately after her hand landed on it.

still hungrily making out with you, her hand ended up on one of your pockets, the one containing the classroom keys. of course, the teacher always trusted that you’d lock the classroom once you were done with your work, so he didn’t mind giving you the responsibility.

you didn’t even realize that she reached into the pocket and grabbed the keys, that is, until she quickly pulled away afterwards, leaving you breathless. as you opened your eyes again and caught your breath, you saw yunjin throw the keys behind her shoulder, “here,” the obnoxious sound of them being tossed around occupying your thoughts, “lock the door.”

watching as one of the other girls scrambled to catch them, you spoke up, “w-what are you—“

a loud slap resonated through the classroom before leaving space for silence to settle in, your face was stinging. then, when you raised your hand to put it on your cheek, trying to understand what on earth was actually going on, you heard the click of the lock.

“shut the fuck up.” she said, quickly grabbing you and your attention by the jaw and forcefully making you face her before putting on the fake cutesy face you know so well, talking to you as she would a stupid puppy,

“let’s play a little game, hm?” she slightly leaned in, in order to face you directly, “it’s gonna be called ‘how to be a good student’, the rules are simple; you’re gonna pretend that i’m your teacher and i’ll tell you to do certain things, you just have to obey. you can do that for me, right?” 

you gulped, fear plastered all over your expression as you looked back at her.. but also, there was a hint of anticipation? what was she gonna force you to do?? the sane part of yourself tried shaking it off, but to no avail. it was probably way wrong to admit, fucked, even.. but you wanted to see how far she would go. you wanted to see what she wanted to do to you.

you were scared, sure, but also somewhat excited.

she patted your cheek, bringing you back to the reality before you, her friends still behind her, sick smiles as they watched,  “understood?” she asked.

you could only reluctantly nod in response.

“words, dumb bitch. you’re usually really good at using those, aren’t you?” she tilted her head, eyeing your legs as her hand slightly fiddled with your skirt before her cold gaze went back on yours, “so, use them.” 

your breathing getting heavier, you tried to push away all of the ridiculous thoughts you had, why the fuck were you yearning whatever she was planning? you quietly and unintentionally whined, hoping that she didn’t hear, then you eventually managed to choke up a reply, “y-yes.”

she scoffed, “yes what? i’m sure you don’t talk to teachers like that, do you?” 

you closed your eyes momentarily, “yes.. m-miss.”

she snickered, letting out a mocking laugh shortly after as she mumbled something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you would actually do it.’, raising her eyebrows in the process. her friends seemed rather amused, too, since they were all cracking up behind yunjin, one of them even grabbed her phone and started recording. 

wait.

recording??

“t-the phone— what are you doing w-why are you recording—“

the girl in front of you rolled her eyes while backing away from you, sighing exasperatedly, “relax, if you just do as i say and listen to me, i promise you that we’re not posting it anywhere. okay?”

your reputation, your scholarship, she was risking all of it. what if your parents— you couldn’t even finish that thought without feeling chills down your spine

at this point, you had no choice but to trust her words.

“now, strip.” she added.

you hesitated, looking at every corner of the room, your brain desperately trying to forget that there were people watching you attentively. 

after a few seconds, your eyes eventually landed on the ginger standing in front of you, arms crossed. her gaze stern as she looked at you; you particularly noticed how she seemed to be devouring your entire body only using her hooded eyes.

that, for some reason, gave you the willpower to do as she told you to. 

you slowly and nervously unbuttoned your blazer and looked straight at her, your eyebrows slightly upturned, which earned a smirk from yunjin.

you looked like a prey being cornered by its predator, it drove her insane. 

you paid no particular attention to the friends that were screaming, cheering you on and insisting that you take it off faster, treating this whole situation like it was a striptease. once you were only in your bra, you moved on over to your skirt, unzipping the side and slowly sliding it down, still unsure of whatever the fuck you were doing at that moment.

yunjin seemed pleased, very pleased.

“good girl.” the way her tongue rolled off the top of her mouth saying that gave you goosebumps, “now, go bend over that desk and wait.” she added, pointing to… the teacher’s desk.

a surge of shame suddenly washed over you when you remembered the amount of trust that said-teacher had in you. what would he think of you if he knew you were being so inappropriate in his workspace? as if the wall you were standing against gave you some sort of comfort, you didn’t want to move. 

at all.

yunjin’s eyebrows furrowed, “come on, y/n.” she said, with a familiar, fear-inducing playful tone, “bend over that fucking desk or i swear i’m gonna make you regret ever attending your stupid classes.”

you were terrified, you knew she was fully capable of physically hurting you, she’s already done it up until now. 

so you did what she ordered. 

you obeyed.

you sucked up your embarrassment you felt in the process of walking past her friends, half naked and leaning against the desk. you kept your head down; feeling their phone cameras on you, you wanted to hope that hiding your face would make you feel better, so you just kept looking down. until,

a few seconds after, you heard noise behind you, noise that sounded like… bag scrambling? like someone was actively looking for something specific, which undeniably got you very worried. 

you remembered your bag, the vision of you leaving it on the floor kept replaying in your mind.

fuck?

nonetheless, said sound only lasted for a few more seconds before stopping abruptly. then, you heard footsteps, who you could only assume were yunjin’s, get closer to you—

you saw a manicured hand slide a sheet of paper, a pencil and a calculator across the table… 

the sheet.. was your math homework. the one you were working on not too long ago, it was in front of you.

then, feeling a hand gently rub on your lower back as the girls in the room giggled, you flinched slightly. “finish this assignment.” she ordered, cold, before adding onto it, “and under no circumstances do you move, okay?”

you breathed heavily, nodding. “y-yes miss..” was what you said, feeling a piece of your dignity leave your body with each second that passed by. what the fuck was she planning on doing to you?

without asking further questions, you grabbed the pencil sitting in front of you and went to work, trying to do what you do best; school work. for a few minutes, it went smoothly, you felt yourself getting calmer as you filled out the answers of the questions before you.

until you felt her fingers slowly slip your underwear down, her hot breath against your ear whilst she watched you work from behind, her friend group letting out ironic cheers. you heard her scoff as her middle finger came into contact with your.. embarrassingly wet cunt, rubbing it carefully.

“you’ve been wet this entire time, huh? didn’t know miss goody-two-shoes was so naughty.” you quietly whimpered at the touch, you were aching and you didn’t even want to fully acknowledge it. then, you heard some of her friends get up, getting closer to the both of you.

it was almost dehumanizing to admit that being treated this way turned you on this much, and the last thing you wanted at that moment was for her to know it.

she wasn’t as stupid as you thought she was, she figured it out fast.

she quickly stuck two of her fingers inside of you, watching you struggle as you tried to take her. “oh my god— don’t tell me that you’re a virgin?” she giggled, curling them and hitting your gspot as you bit your lip trying to suppress the lewd sounds that wanted to escape your mouth, “how does it feel to know that i’m the one taking your disgusting virginity, hm? shit, you’re fucking dripping for this, aren’t you?” was what she whispered in your ear, making sure no one heard it but you.

how considerate.

“mmh— y-yunjin—“ you attempted to turn your head over to look at her, but she quickly grabbed your jaw with her other hand and set it back to its original position. 

“i told you not to move, didn’t i? focus on the fucking paper, whore. don’t make me hit you again, okay baby?” she snapped, being rougher with her fingers in the process. you let out a moan in response, because as much as you tried to deny it, everytime she spoke just made you clench even more around her.

so she sped up the pace with each sound that you let out, it didn’t take long for her to start properly fingering you and allowing her other hand to grope your clothed tits, watching you lose yourself under her inappropriate touch. you wanted more, you weren’t even writing on the damn paper anymore, you needed more of her. you needed to hear her friends call you a brainless whore more often.

you needed it.

your brain was so foggy and blurry that you didn’t even notice one of her friends end up in front of you, shamelessly shoving the camera on you, “come on y/n, look here.” she whined playfully, her turn to take ahold of your face and move it however she pleases, the girl made you look up at her and stuck her thumb into your mouth.

what was her name? chaeyoung? chaeryeong?? chaewon??? you couldn’t quite remember.

god, you didn’t even fucking know her name and you just let her slur you out like this?

“tell me y/n, is miss yunjin making you feel good?”

more, you wanted more. whatever the hell this was, you wanted more, you craved more.

you nodded, eyes hooded and rolled back as you felt the ginger’s long fingers reach deep inside of you, curling at the perfect places, at the perfect time. it felt so good, too good. you slightly drooled on the bob-haired girl’s thumb as your body shook under the both of them. 

feeling yunjin’s mouth against your neck while she kept fingerfucking you, you blabbered, indecent things sounding like “k-keep going— i’ll never be an annoying bitch again i promise i— pleaseplease m-more—“ escaping your mouth.

everyone in the classroom was amused by this, you could tell by the things they said and the laughs they let out occasionally.

yunjin was especially enjoying it, because who would’ve thought l/n y/n would whore herself out for a group of girls she didn’t even know? not her, that’s for sure, but she lived for it, she waited so long for something like this to happen, and it finally did.

for you to be put back in your place, for you to be humbled, for you to be a begging and crying mess all over her. that’s what she hoped for whenever you opened your mouth in class. 

“c-cumming— i’m— c-cumming i—“ you moaned against the sloppy kiss you were having with the other girl.

suddenly, a huge wave of euphoria washed over your entire body, causing your legs and arms to shake, giving out. you weren’t paying any attention to the volume of your voice, but when you felt lips come into contact with yours, you figured that you were being a little too loud.

you wanted more, you needed more.

too bad they simply all left you there, alone, only words spoken by yunjin beforehand being “don’t forget to lock the door afterwards.” after being thrown the keys to the classroom.

#kpop gg #female reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #yunjin le sserafim #huh yunjin smut #yunjin x female reader #huh yunjin #anon asks #kinda?? #le sserafim yunjin #le sserafim yunjin smut #gg smut #kpop gg smut #smut le sserafim

[krav3nn]

ᰔᩚMINI SKIRTᰔᩚ

Summary: your always wearing mini skirts, climbing in them, bending over in them, etc. bill being your boyfriend doesn’t want you to flash any weirdo so what a better solution than to put you on his shoulders!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Bill loved when you wore mini skirts, he thought you looked beautiful in them. But the bad thing is other men also think so.

You wore mini skirts almost everyday, and you were always very active and curious. Bill loved that about you. But when you did stuff like this, your skirt would ride up.

Bill obviously liked it but he didn’t like that other men also liked it. He say the way men stared at you when you bent over to pick somthing up.

Obviously he could stand behind you when his happened to cover you and offer to pick the item up instead. He hated that people looked at you.

But he would never tell you what to wear, but he also didn’t want you to be harassed so he always protected you.

You would climb trees a lot and try to make it to the top. Or at least where you could sit on a sturdy branch. Again though when you did this, creeps got a good peek at your under where

Bill was a tall guy, he was around 6,4. So one day when you saw a tree he had an idea. What if he put you on his shoulders and let you climb from there so you wouldn’t be exposed but you’d be able to sit up there

So he mentioned it to you. “Hey princess?” Bill says squeezing your interlocked hands. “Yes Billy?” You reply with a sweet smile that makes bill melt

“Can I…put you on my shoulders and lift you up on the tree?” Bill asked. You were silent for a second, excitement building in your mind as you thought of it

“Yea! I would love that!” You said walking a bit behind him. Bill bended down to let you climb on his shoulders. He also put his hands around your waist to help you

Once you were on his shoulders you were nervous you were too heavy. “Billy?” You squeaked. “Yes baby?” Bill said, walking to the tree of your choice. “Am I too heavy?” You said looking down at him.

“What?! Absolutely not!” Bill continued, “your as light as a feather to me baby.” You smiled at the reassurance. Bill reached the tree and helped you get lift up onto it.

You stood on a sturdy tree branch and looked down at bill with a smile, you loved trees, it was your fixation and bill loved it. He thought it was so cute

Once you were ready to get down you asked bill, “can I get on your shoulders again!” As you smiled. “Of course leibe!” Bill said as he bent down again, letting you get on his shoulders.

Once you were on his shoulders he ran around to tease you. “AHHH!! BILLY DON’T DROP ME!!!” You laughed. “I won’t drop you baby girl.” Bill said walking again to where you were going.

This was most definitely going to be a daily occurrence. Though bill loved having you on his shoulders nobody could stare under your skirt and he got his baby girl on his shoulder!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

A/N: thank you @bunnysenpai31 for requesting this I love you sugarplum 😜 I’m still working on requests so more will be out soon!

#bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader

[saltydumplings]

Hi, I’m not really sure how this works but I was wondering if you could write a lil short story/snippet of villain x reporter were villain find reporter following then after a big battle?

thank you in advance!! 💙

Oh my god I did it. I wrote a request for the first time in months, oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--

Request #29

There was blood on their left shoulder. The villain huffed in annoyance, wiping at the stain with one hand and grimacing when it smudged.

That fight had been unnecessary.

The hero had instigated it - the villain giving them ample opportunity to stand down but their enemy was stubborn. Almost stupidly so. They took one look at the villain and decided that they couldn't possibly go one second longer without punching them in the face.

And, of course, the media would paint it as their fault. Because if the villain so much as breathed anywhere near the city centre then obviously their intentions were nothing short of nefarious. No, the villain didn't need to go grocery shopping at all: those bananas were clearly going to be the foundation for their next evil scheme - crucial some might say.

The villain groaned to themself as they walked down the alleyway, using their clean hand to pinch the bridge of their nose.

So much food had been wasted.

So much damage had been caused and for what?

If they were being honest, they weren't entirely sure if it was worth it anymore. If the cause that had led them to where they were still held out strong enough to reason days like this - destruction like this. Common destruction; everyday, needless, a mere swipe upon the hero's page but an ugly blot upon their own. The villain was supposed to be fighting for change but it seemed that everything they did only made the walls they were trying to tear down stronger. They were enabling the very thing they stood against and all the while they were hurting the people they were trying to save - trying to free from a society that never thought of them twice.

At this point, it was better to simply retire and let things return to the way they were. And, if in their misery they figured out a better way then perhaps they could try again...

The villain came to a sudden stop, wondering if they would truly give in right there and then, only to freeze at the sound of movement behind them. A short, scuffling noise - someone attempting to hide and not doing a very good job of it.

Surely the hero hadn't followed them?

The villain turned about, surveying the empty alley behind them, their gaze quickly honing in on a stack of crates. They waited patiently, silent, watching as their would-be stalker peered out from behind their cover and ducked down twice as fast - a small squeak of realisation echoing off the walls. Even if the villain hadn't seen them, they certainly would have heard that.

They let themself relax somewhat, rationalising that their pursuer was either a civilian or a moron. Perhaps even both...

"You realise that you're not exactly discreet, right?" they said.

There was a pause. A long one.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," the villain pushed. "Either you come out, or I drag you out. One--"

"No, no! N-No need for dragging!"

The villain felt their brows raising as their stalker revealed themself, quickly springing out from their hiding spot like a startled rabbit. They had been right: civilian and a moron. Though, when it came to members of the press, the villain couldn't really expect much else.

"I-I, um," the reporter stumbled on their words as the villain approached them, hands clutching onto their notepad shakily. "I just had a, er - a f-few questions. I-If that's alright with you, of course..."

Perhaps stubborn was a better word. Tenacious.

The villain had seen the way these people practically hovered around the hero. Had even seen one or two get punched by the crime-fighter out of pure annoyance and yet, still, more persisted to harass them.

None had ever attempted to approach the villain before though. None had ever dared...until now.

They stopped just centimetres away from the other, amused by the way the reporter held their ground even when they were clearly scared out of their mind.

"You get three questions," the villain allowed. "But I won't promise any answers."

The reporter's eyes widened. "W-Wait, only three?" they asked.

"Two now," the villain answered.

A beat.

The reporter floundered, opening and closing their mouth multiple times before hurriedly flicking through their notepad. Clearly they'd had their questions planned out - pages upon pages of them - but now they were having to choose only two.

The villain quirked a brow as they watched, foot starting to tap upon the ground while the seconds ticked by.

"Okay, I- no, no, h-hold on."

The reporter flicked back through their notes again, the villain tolerating it all of about five more seconds before snatching the pad from their hands and holding it out of their reach - the reporter giving a startled squeak before looking up at them with horror.

"G-Give that back," they said.

The villain smirked. "No."

"B-But--"

"But what?"

"I..." the reporter flushed, fingers twitching at their sides. "Could you please just give it back?"

The villain's grin grew sharper. "No. And you have one question left - better choose wisely."

"Wait, but that wasn't- I didn't- i-it--!"

"One question~" the villain chimed.

The reporter settled back into silence. Their gaze flicked between their notepad and the villain that held it, something surprisingly similar to a glare lining their expression. Were they about to...?

They did.

The reporter jumped up and snatched the notepad right from the villain's fingers, darting back immediately and flicking through it with frantic urgency.

Cheeky little--

Where the hell did these people get their courage from?

The villain went to snatch it back but the reporter raised their hand, reading out from the final page in an incomprehensible rush:

"DoyouthinkthatHeroshouldbeheldaccountableforthedamagetheycausewhenfightingyouanddoyoubelievethatthisdamageisnecessarywhenthwartingyourplans?"

The villain stopped. Blinked. "What did you just say to me?"

The reporter swallowed, taking in one steady breath before trying again more slowly. "Do you think that Hero should be held accountable for the damage they cause when fighting you, a-and do you believe that this damage is necessary when thwarting your plans?"

Of all the questions they could have asked, the villain had not expected it to be that. It stunned them: they were so used to people always taking the hero's side that they'd almost forgotten the rush of relief that came with being believed - that little thrill of confidence when you found out you weren't alone.

They paused, eyes wide as they studied the other in a new light. "No," they whispered.

"No?" the reporter questioned. They let themself relax a little - no longer cautious but rather curious.

"No," the villain clarified more strongly. "No: that damage is not necessary. And yes they should be held accountable for it - they shouldn't be allowed to use me as an escape goat for the destruction that they actively cause."

For a moment, the reporter's jaw went slack, fully engrossed in what they were saying. The second the villain stopped though they fumbled about their pockets, quickly fishing out a pen and clicking the lid off - taking a few scribbled notes before staring back up at the villain with shining eyes.

"Anything else?" they asked eagerly.

The villain flushed a little under the attention, and not in a bad way. The more they talked to the reporter the more likeable they became: the villain still thought they were stubborn - foolishly so - but they were beginning to recognise that it was more in a puppy-like way than anything truly annoying; the reporter was cute.

"They'll look for any excuse to attack me," they said, each word a small weight off their chest. "The papers will say that I was the one to initiate but I rarely am - that's just what the government wants you to believe. In fact, I'm sure Hero is instructed to be more reckless purposefully just to paint me in a worse light but that's never been my intention: never has been, never will be."

"I knew it!" the reporter said. Then they blushed when the villain raised a brow at them, ducking their head in a vague attempt to hide behind that tiny notebook of theirs. "I mean, I - I had some, er, speculations..."

The villain hummed. "Good speculations I'd hope."

The red of the reporter's cheeks darkened. "A-Any more comments you'd like to add?" they asked, changing the topic.

The villain had to resist the urge to sigh. Because yes; yes, they did. So many...but they didn't want to dump it all on the reporter at once and run the risk of losing the one person that they'd spoken openly to in years.

"What do you intend to do with this information?" they questioned back. "Do you plan to publish it?"

"W-Well, yes. If that's alright, o-of course." The reporter shuffled a little on their feet, suddenly shy. "Not in any of the major papers though - obviously. I mean, they would never let me... It's for a blog I write online. It's small but I-I like to think that it could grow to something bigger. Something that could, y-you know..."

"Change things?" the villain finished, watching as the reporter gave a small nod. "You want things to change?"

The reporter huffed. "Who doesn't?" they said.

The villain considered that a while. Considered it with a hesitation that they'd never had to deal with before. It was one thing to put themself at risk, it was a whole other thing entirely to then insert someone else into that same mess - to tangle them up in something that they could never get out of.

"How much?" the villain challenged. "How much do you want it?"

A pause.

The reporter swallowed, eyes glancing over the villain's frame in a studious way. "Why do I feel like you're giving me a massive, life-altering choice?"

"Because I am," the villain said simply.

"Oh."

The reporter fell silent again. Their gaze drifted away - focused back on the entrance of the alleyway that they'd followed the villain down before falling once more to stare at the notepad in their hands. They held it just a little tighter, lower lip caught between their teeth as they thought it through.

The villain waited patiently, a small excitement sparking within their chest when the reporter's attention drew back to them.

"More than anything," the other said, finally. "More than I can openly admit."

The other followed their direction without question. "O-Oh, right, yes I-- o-of course!"

The villain nodded. Smiled.

"Alright, then. So be it," they said. "You'll want to put that somewhere safe," they added as an afterthought, gesturing to the notepad in the reporter's hands.

They fumbled to put it away into a bag at their side, the villain watching them carefully as they did it.

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" they asked.

The reporter waved a hand dismissively whilst they struggled with the zip. "What, me? No, no, it - it's all work, work, work. I never really find the time for much else."

"So no one to expect you then?" the villain pursued. "No one you're meant to be seeing?"

"No, I--" The reporter paused, their eyebrows drawing down ever so slightly. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Because..."

The villain took a step forward then, hands reaching out to catch onto their shoulders. They pulled the reporter closer, the civilian's face flushing at the sudden contact - the sudden strong contact.

"I'm planning to enact my first official kidnapping," the villain said, "and I want everything to go as smoothly as possible."

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain #hero x villain #writeblr #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #villain #civilian

[sanjisblackasswife]

JJK Men When You Randomly Grab Their Tiddy (Black Fem! Reader)

A/N: I love Men’s tiddies.

Ft. Toji, Geto, Gojo

CW: Chaos and Gropping

Toji

I mean…who wouldn’t grab em

He’s constantly grabbing your titties so why not cop a feel yourself

However he thinks you’re just being horny and you have to let him know you didn’t mean it in a sexual way

He was laying on his back with no shirt on on your bed reading a pin up magazine and you felt like harassing him since it was his day off.

He doesn’t understand why you keep staring at him and gets a bit irritated.

“Come here.” His voice was low and raspy considering he was constantly tired on his off days. “What are you Doing, sweetheart?” He grabbed your hands to play with your fingers “Hm?”

You lost your train of thought until you felt his hand swat on your butt telling you to “pay attention “

You climbed on his lap to straddle him still looking at those huge GINANAMASOUROUS bazooongas he got

“I um…can I squeeze them?”

“What my balls?”

“No! Your boobies!”

“They’re not bo—-“

“Okay fine your chest i wanna squeeze em!”

He playfully rolls his eyes at you. Really? You’re watching him like a thief of the night and all you wanted to do was squeeze his TIDDIES?

“Okay…ah-!” He quickly grabbed your wrist, making you furrow your brows in confusion, “Gatta cockwarm me first.”

Your face went deadpanned. This horny mf—

“I’m still sore from this morning…”

“Quit lying I didn’t even go hard on you I was half sleep.”

“….fine. I’m not wet though—“

“Okay then sit on my face—-“

“ALL I WANNA DO IS GRAB YOUR TITS TOJI—“

Toji laughed seeing you so irritated with his demands. He of course wouldn’t let you do anything you didn’t want and enjoyed annoying you so he let go and threw his arms behind his head. “I’m just fucking with you…”

Your fake little pout quickly turned into a smile giving two big handful squeezes of his fluffy soft chest.

“Wow for a built guy you sure have soft tiddies.”

“Jealous?” He smirked at you, you glared at him with annoyance and pinched his nipple making him chuckle lowly wrapping his arms on your body dwarfing you into his chest. “Don’t you dare do that again.” Toji’s voice had a bit of playfulness in it as he warned you in your ear before peppering you with kisses.

Gojo

Mf wants YOU to squeeze em

He been working out a bit more and he just had to annoy somebody about it—somebody being you

“Look my boobs are almost as big as yours —feel!”

Mf will grab your hand and force you to grope him.

Eventually ends up making you rub his nipples with your fingers.

“Why are you like this.” Not giving him eye contact because you were so comfortable on the couch scrolling through TikTok with one hand now because the other was occupied touching your boyfriend’s chest.

“Commmonnnnnnn y/nnnnnnnn.” He snatched your phone making you cuss at him. He was smiling at you through his shades kneeling beside where you were laying completely shirtless. Most women would pounce at the opportunity of touching Gojo Satoru’s tits but you have been with him long enough to get accustomed to his crap.

“Just one squeeze! —-Like how I do your ass.”

“SATO!”

You groaned and adjusted yourself to get up looking at him tired like as your scarf was slipping off your head, he scooted closer in between your legs with his chest puffed out like a bird biting his lip in excitement. He really enjoyed having his tits played with.

You groped them and smirked. They did in fact get bigger.

“Why are they so round.” You flick his nipple making him snicker flinching holding his sensitive teets. “Mine aren’t even that perky.

“Aww Baby.” He pecked your pouty lips. “Your tits are Devine. Let me see em.”

“No!”

“Commonnnn you seen mine!”

“YOU MADE ME—?!”

Geto

“BACK WOMAN!”

“LET ME TOUCH THEM!”

“BACK I SAY—!”

Almost everyday after he finishes training, Geto dreads coming home because it’s like you have some kinda sweat kink because you immediately wanna grope him when he comes back home sweaty

Moreso his tiddies

He knows you love grabbing his chest, he lets you do it a lot when you both cuddle but eventually you start to suck on his nipples as well and he’s just so sensitive there he can’t last too long when you do it so he tries to keep the Gropping to a minimum

But you’re nearing your cycle and you get very touchy and horny during this time

Geto and you were running around the entire house as you were like a dog in heat trying to catch a bone.

More like Geto’s bone.

But today his chest looked extra groppable. They looked so bouncy and squishy especially with his scar showing right in the middle of it.

You needed to squeeze em.

Right now. Geto was on one side of the dining room table and you were on the other breathing harshly after running up and down the stairs as if it were a game of tag.

“JUST LET ME TOUCH YOU!”

“NO YOU ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY WHEN YOU ARE LIKE THIS LET ME TAKE A SHOWER!”

“LET ME TAKE ONE WITH YOU—“

“ABSOLUTELY NOT MOVE!”

He rushed out the dining room and you scurried right behind him. You got tired of his antic and started to get impatient so you did the most sane thing to do

You jumped on his back and you both fell.

Thank God you had long carpeted hallways because Geto probably would have had a broken nose the way he face planted on the floor.

“Y/N!” He rolled over on his back laughing completely giving up. He was so over you right now seeing you rub and press your hands against his sweaty chest, smiling at them like you found gold. “What is wrong with you?”

“I love your tiddies so much.”

“Yeah I know you do—-ah!” Geto croaked out a moan feeling you already latching your lips to his nipples.

Don’t worry he got back at you later.

#jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x black reader #toji x female reader #toji x black reader #toji headcanons #toji imagine #daddy toji #toji scenarios #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #geto headcanons #geto smut #geto x black reader #geto x female reader #geto scenarios #geto x y/n #geto fic #geto fluff #gojo x female reader #gojo x poc reader #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojo imagine #gojo scenario #gojo saturo #gojo headcanons

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Hello I absolutely love your writing! I wanted to ask if I could request a Soldier Boy imagine? Specifically one where the reader is Black Canary. She’s an incredible fighter, has her loud ear piercing sonic scream & the bad ass bodysuit with the fishnet tights! He’s basically smitten & wants to go out with her. Although she hesitates for sometime because of his reputation he manages to convince her. But we also see him admiring her when she’s working out/training and when she’s saving people/being a hero. Thank you💕

A Compliment A Day

masterlist

pairing: soldier boy x black canary!reader (female supe)

summary: soldier boy gives black canary a genuine compliment each day to show her he’s capable of being a good person

rating: R for language

word count: 1.6k

warnings: soldier boy (he’s a warning for this one, but he does get better), language, workplace harassment (?), i think that’s everything

timeline: set in an au a few years after season 3

author’s note: anon thank you for requesting!! i’m hoping this is what you were looking for! 🫶

It had been years since Vought came crashing down and Neumann was put behind bars. Supe Affairs had been running smoothly, and from the ashes of Vought arose a group of Supe’s who called themselves ‘Avengers of Justice’.

They were determined to keep their fellow Supe’s in line before S.A. could take them god knows where, as well as keep the average citizens safe.

You were the informal leader of this small group. Mainly because it had been your idea in the first place, but also because no one dared go against you. Everyone knew you were holding back your full potential when it came to your powers. The last time you used them almost at full blast, was when you single handedly destroyed Vought Tower. One screech and the empty building collapsed; also temporarily damaging everyone’s eardrums in a two mile radius. (The damage only lasted a couple days, and reports showed that a few people even had better hearing afterwards.)

You were also the leader because you had saved most of the Supe’s who followed your commands.

Soldier Boy was one of them. When you learned he’d been put back under you were determined to get him back. And you did. You managed to free him and get him the hell away from the Feds before anyone realized you were in the building.

He was incredibly grateful, and at first he showed it in the most inappropriate ways.

For example, the first thing he said to you when he woke up and you were saving him was, “Wow, you’ve got great tits, miss.” You slapped him in the face before you both fled.

You didn’t stand for about half the things he said. You kicked his ass several times before he fully understood why you got so offended by the comments.

“Thank you for saving me all those weeks ago, Tweety Bird,” was the first non-sexist, nice thing he said to you. Although, the nickname made you want to scream and break his eardrums.

“No problem Army Man,” you replied with a forced smile.

He’d never admit it, but he genuinely liked how tough you were. How you didn’t let him get away with anything; his dirty dishes in the sink, his dirty socks in the living room, and many more everyday things that he never used to worry about.

But you kinda annoyed him too. To him, he was The Man of the house (well, old clock tower apartment, turned watchtower for Supe’s who worked with you) and you were supposed to respect him. You were a woman, it was your job to make him dinner, not the other way around!

The first time he said these misogynistic thoughts out loud every single Supe at the base looked at him like he had three fucking heads. You were pissed as fuck and demoted him to clean-up duty for two weeks. Suddenly his dirty dishes in the sink came back to haunt him.

He shut his mouth after that.

**

“Canary, we’ve got a live one!” one of your Supe’s informed you as you walked into the apartment. “Campbell down at Supe Affairs is claiming the Supe killed these people on purpose, we beg to differ.” You hit play on the video in front of you.

“Well that clearly wasn’t his fault!” you scoffed, watching as the Supe seemed to emit a force from himself but looked terrified at the outcome. “I’ll call Hughie and sort this out. Is the Supe already in custody?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Soldier Boy said. “I called the cum guzzler and he insisted that this Supe had malicious intent.”

“Please tell me you did not call the head of Supe Affairs and call him that?” you groaned. Soldier Boy just grinned. “God damn it Soldier Boy! Now I have to call the bastard and grovel.”

“Sorry,” he piped, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. “It kinda just… came out.”

“Well, you live and you learn.” You shrugged then eyed him. “Well, you live anyway.”

“Hey! I’d like to think I’ve learned quite a lot given the fact I was raised in the fucking thirties! I’ve been working with you for two-and-a-half years now and it’s been how many months since I called you a bitch?”

“Check the whiteboard, Soldier Boy, it’s been two weeks since you last hit on me.”

“I still think singling me out with ‘Days Since Last Soldier Boy Incident’ is a form of discrimination.”

“It’s not when you’ve personally insulted every single one of your co-workers,” you laughed.

“Insulted?” Soldier Boy furrowed his brows, seeming somewhat hurt. You picked up on that and decided to drop the conversation.

“Look, just listen in when I call Hughie and learn how I talk to him without pointing out the fact I could break his spine, okay?”

“Okay,” Soldier Boy huffed.

**

You were lifting weights in the gym room (a section of the “apartment” converted into a makeshift gym) when Soldier Boy came in to join you.

“Hey, did you mean what you said earlier?” he asked. You put the weights down and looked at him, silently asking what he meant. “When I try to compliment you… does it actually sound like an insult?”

“Soldier Boy, the last time you ‘complimented’ me, you said that my fishnet tights made me look fuckable. That is not a compliment.”

“Yeah it is! I’m saying they make you look good!”

“Alright, I’m gonna do you and every woman you come in contact with in the future, a huge favor. If you really like someone, try complimenting something other than their looks. For example, tell them you like their sense of humor, or their taste in music. Do not go up to a co-worker and say they look fuckable.”

“So, instead of saying what I’m thinking right now about your gym clothes, I should say that I think it’s incredible you can bench over two-hundred pounds even though strength isn’t really your superpower?”

“Yes! Thank you, Soldier Boy.” You smiled a little.

“Well, then get used to hearing really specific compliments from now on, Tweety, because you asked for it.” He smirked then left the room.

“It’s Black Canary, Army Man!” you called out to him.

**

True to his word, Soldier Boy complimented you on literally everything but your looks the next few weeks. He made sure to give you (at least) one genuine compliment each day in hopes you’d see him as more than a barely tolerable co-worker.

One you really enjoyed hearing was; “I like how you can keep a couple dozen Supe’s under the same roof without them killing each other. I think that really says something about what a great leader you are.”

He said that after two Supe’s had fought each other over breakfast cereal and you managed to calm them both down. At first you thought he was being sarcastic but when you looked at him, you realized he was completely serious.

Another one that stuck out was; “This may be ironic, given the fact you could deafen anyone you come in contact with, but you are an incredible listener, Tweety Bird. You’re really easy to talk to and you give great advice.”

The nickname was growing on you.

But your absolute favorite and the one that made you swoon (you would never admit it though) was when you and Soldier Boy had been too late to a crime scene to save a handful of hostages. The two of you were seated on the roof of a building nearby; you had tears running down your face and he looked at you with such compassion.

“I know it might not seem like it right now,” Soldier Boy started, reaching out to touch your hand gently. “But you are an incredible person and you do not deserve everything you’re putting yourself through right now. You are strong as fuck and what happened here was not your fault. You’re a fucking hero, Tweety Bird, and I love that about you. But you’re human too and I love that even more.”

You slowly turned your head to look at him, tears still clouding your eyes.

“Thank you, Soldier Boy,” you whispered. “I know I usually don’t take your compliments very well but seriously, Army Man, thank you.”

“Anytime.” He smiled, not looking away from you. “Can I say one thing about your looks right now?”

“Sure, I think you’ve earned it given the fact you’ve gone three weeks without saying anything,” you laughed a little.

“Your dark eye makeup is running like crazy right now-”

“Wow, way to kick me when I’m down!”

“You didn’t let me finish! It’s running like crazy but you still look so fuckin’ pretty.” He smiled wider when you nodded in acceptance. He stared down at your lips as you smiled.

“If you’re thinking about kissing me-”

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna try anything, I know I’m about one wrong word away from my ears bleeding.”

“Well, I was gonna say go ahead and kiss me but-” He cut you off again but this time with a kiss to your lips. “Wow you’re good at that,” you mumbled when he pulled away after a moment. “I think I understand your cockiness now.”

“I’d love to take the credit, but that was definitely all you, Tweety.”

“Maybe we just have perfect chemistry,” you whispered and leaned in for another kiss.

“Guess we won’t know without a few more experiments, huh?” He kissed you a third time.

“I’m free all night, Army Man.”

#the boys #soldier boy x reader #the boys fluff #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy #soldier boy fluff #by ​mind empty just fictional people #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[rylem33]

Punked

This is my half of a story swap with @nihility-of-darkness. It is a bit long (8k words) but I really enjoyed this transformation. I hope you enjoy it too. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking down the dimly lit street, Rachel tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear and glanced up at Chris, a small smile playing on her lips. “So, how was the day at the precinct?” she asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity. The modest elegance of her dress fluttered lightly with the evening breeze, a contrast to the seriousness often found in Chris’s day-to-day.

Chris let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, the weight of the day momentarily visible in his eyes before he masked it with a smile for Rachel. “The usual chaos, you know. Paperwork that seems to regenerate overnight and a couple of cases that don’t want to get solved. But enough about me. How was the bookstore today? Any interesting characters wander in?”

Rachel’s face lit up at the mention of her workplace. “Actually, yes. There was this little boy, no older than seven, who came in insisting on buying a book about space with his own money. He was so determined to learn about the stars,” she recounted, her enthusiasm infectious. “It’s moments like those that make me love my job even more.”

Chris chuckled, the tension from his day visibly melting away with Rachel’s story. “You always did have a way of finding the magic in everyday moments,” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

Their peaceful night took a sudden turn when they came upon a scene straight out of Chris’s workday: a group of punks was harassing an older woman, attempting to steal her purse. Without hesitation, Chris let go of Rachel’s hand.

“Stay here,” he instructed, moving forward to intervene. His voice, when he spoke to the assailants, was authoritative and calm, “Let her go.”

Rachel watched from a short distance, her anxiety visible. Chris managed to subdue the punks with surprising efficiency, restraining them until he could call for backup on his phone. Within minutes, police sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder as reinforcements approached.

As the police took the punks into custody, the leader, his gaze fixed on Chris and Rachel, caught Chris protectively wrapping his arm around Rachel. In that moment, the punk shouted something, his voice carrying a menacing tone that cut through the night air. The curse was loud, clear, and unmistakably directed at them.

“What did he just say?” Rachel’s voice trembled slightly as she turned to look at Chris, seeking reassurance.

Chris’s face was set in a frown, a mix of confusion and concern. “I’m not sure, I didn’t understand the language he was using. Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it.

“Are you okay?” she pressed, her eyes searching his for any sign of what he truly felt.

“Yeah, I’m fine. More importantly, are you?” Chris’s concern shifted back to Rachel, reinforcing the protective bubble he always tried to maintain around her.

“I’m okay,” she responded, her voice steadier. “Let’s not let this ruin our evening.”

They resumed their walk, attempting to reclaim the peace of their earlier night, but neither Chris nor Rachel were able to shake the uncomfortable feeling of the encounter.

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

Chris walked into the apartment, the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders. The case he’d been working on had taken a difficult turn, and it had demanded more of his time than he’d anticipated. As he closed the door behind him, the comforting aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him, instantly lightening his mood. Rachel had prepared dinner, and even though he was late, the table was set, and the food was kept warm, waiting for him.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Chris apologized as he saw Rachel, who was tidying up the kitchen. Her gentle demeanor and understanding smile were a balm to his frayed nerves.

“It’s okay, I figured it was something important at work. Sit down, dinner’s ready,” Rachel responded, her tone soothing. Despite the delay, her patience was unwavering, a trait Chris had always admired.

As Chris began to eat, grateful for the meal in front of him, he noticed Rachel sitting across from him, her attention partially on a book she was reading. However, it wasn’t the book that caught his eye; it was the absent-minded doodling she was doing on her arm. A small, but unmistakable drawing of a skull and crossbones had begun to take shape under her pen.

“Is that a skull and crossbones?” Chris asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. It was an unusual choice for Rachel, whose aesthetic and personality seemed so at odds with the symbol she was sketching.

Rachel looked down at her arm, seemingly surprised to find the doodle there herself. “Oh, this? I didn’t even realize I was doing it. Just feeling a bit fidgety, I guess,” she said with a slight laugh, brushing it off as nothing more than a random distraction.

Rachel glanced once more at the drawing on her arm, a small concentration frown creasing her brow. Without further comment, she quickly wiped the pen ink off her arm, erasing the skull and crossbones. The ink smeared slightly against her skin before it was gone, leaving no trace of the doodle behind.

She then turned her attention back to her book, immersing herself in the world of words and stories, her earlier fidgetiness seemingly forgotten. 

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

Chris was still asleep when the sound of Rachel moving around the apartment more loudly than usual started to seep into his consciousness. The sound of drawers being opened a bit too forcefully and objects being set down harder than needed suggested she was in a hurry or perhaps a bit agitated.

Then, quite distinctly, Rachel’s voice cut through the semi-silence of the morning. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, a word not typically in her calm and collected vocabulary.

Chris’s eyes snapped open, and he was instantly alert. “Rachel? What’s wrong?” he called out, concern evident in his voice.

“It’s stupid, I can’t find my bookmark. The one I always use,” Rachel’s voice floated back, a mix of irritation and disbelief coloring her tone. The frustration over such a small detail was unusual for her; Rachel was the type of person who approached most of life’s minor inconveniences with patience.

Chris sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “That doesn’t sound like you. Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice was full of concern, not just for the missing bookmark but for the noticeable shift in Rachel’s behavior.

“I don’t know… I’m just not feeling like myself this morning,” Rachel admitted, her frustration giving way to a hint of confusion over her own reaction.

A few moments later, she came into view at the bedroom doorway, ready for work but visibly off, her usual morning brightness dimmed. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late,” she said, attempting a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Okay, see you tonight. Take care,” Chris replied, watching her leave before falling back to sleep.

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

Rachel was behind the counter at the bookstore, focusing on a book reading.  As she read, the pen in her hand seemingly moved almost of its own accord. Over time, small but elaborate doodles began to populate her left arm.

Later on, customers came and went, greeted by Rachel’s now somewhat distracted presence. Uncharacteristically, her language had taken a casual turn, sprinkled with curse words that slipped out as naturally as any other word. “Yeah, that book is fucking fantastic, you’ve got to check it out,” she recommended to a customer, not even flinching at her own language.

It wasn’t until a coworker, Jenna, pulled her aside that Rachel became aware of her actions. “Hey, Rachel, you okay? It’s not like you to…well, curse so much. And what’s with the arm art?” Jenna’s tone was a mix of concern and confusion, her brow furrowed as she gestured to Rachel’s doodle-covered arm.

Rachel glanced down at her arm, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn’t realized she’d been drawing on herself again, let alone cursing in front of customers. “Oh my God, I… I didn’t even notice. I’m so sorry,” she stammered, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. She quickly tried to rub off the pen marks with her hand, but they only smeared.

“Don’t worry about it too much. Just maybe keep an eye on it? And maybe lay off the sailor talk in front of the customers,” Jenna suggested gently, giving Rachel’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading back to work.

Rachel stood there for a moment, mortified. This wasn’t like her at all. She’d always prided herself on her professionalism and poise, especially in her work environment. Taking a deep breath, she resolved to pay more attention to her actions.

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

Rachel stepped into the apartment, immediately enveloped by the savory aroma of dinner cooking. Chris, wanting to make up for the previous night’s missed dinner, had taken it upon himself to prepare a meal. The rich, inviting smell prompted Rachel to exclaim, “Wow, this smells fucking amazing!” as she threw her arms around Chris, planting a big, wet kiss on his lips.

The intensity of her greeting and choice of words took Chris by surprise. This kind of language and the level of affection were uncharacteristic for Rachel, especially right after walking through the door. He noticed something else, too—an ink smear on Rachel’s arm, which stood out against her skin. 

“Been doodling on yourself again?” Chris asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he tried to lighten the moment.

Rachel looked puzzled for a second. “How’d you guess? Oh, right, detective skills,” she quipped, following his gaze to her arm. Noticing the smear, she added, somewhat loudly and with a brashness that wasn’t typical for her, “Yeah, I guess I fucking got carried away.”

Her tone shifted abruptly, as if she suddenly became aware of how she sounded. “I, um, I’ll just go clean up before dinner,” she said, her voice returning to its usual, softer register. With a quick, somewhat embarrassed smile, she headed to the bathroom to wash off the ink.

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

Chris and Rachel sat at their dining table for dinner. Chris sat upright, his detective eyes always attentive. Across from him, Rachel slouching yet jittery. Her once long blonde hair messily cut to shoulder length.

Chris looked at Rachel questioningly. “Why did you cut your hair?”

“I don’t know,” she replied truthfully. “I was in the bathroom cleaning up and just decided it needed to be shorter.”

Chris wanted to press, but decided against it. As the meal continued, Rachel launched into an excited recount of her day.

“You won’t believe what happened today,” Rachel began, her voice louder and more animated than usual. “This guy walks into the store, right? And he’s looking for this book that’s basically impossible to find. So, I’m there, trying to help him, and I swear, I almost said, ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ But I caught myself.” She laughed, a bit too loudly, and continued, “I mean, who does that five minutes before closing?”

Chris smiled, noting the slight edge to her language. “Sounds like you handled it pretty well, though.”

Rachel nodded, her leg bouncing under the table. “Yeah, but that’s not the best part. So, I start looking through the database, and—oh, this is the kicker—I actually find it!” Her voice soared with excitement. “I was so surprised; I almost let out a ‘shit’ right in front of him. But, you know, professionalism and all that.”

Chris raised his eyebrows, amusement mingling with concern. “Sounds like an eventful day. I can’t remember the last time I heard you curse so much, though.”

“Oh?” Rachel paused, her fork midway to her mouth. For a moment, her demeanor shifted back to her usual self, more measured and calm. “I guess I did get a bit carried away. It’s just been one of those days, you know?”

Her expression sobered as she continued, “Anyway, after that, I spent some time reorganizing the back shelf. It was kind of therapeutic, actually.” Her voice had softened, returning to the familiar, gentle tone Chris was accustomed to.

Chris nodded, listening intently. “That sounds more like the Rachel I know. Reorganizing shelves and finding lost books.”

Rachel smiled, a genuine, softer expression crossing her face. “Yeah, it’s the little victories, right?” Then, as if a switch had been flipped, her enthusiasm reignited. “Oh, and guess what else? I fucking—oops,” she caught herself with a quick glance at Chris, “I mean, I managed to sell that rare first edition we got last week. Can you believe it?”

Chris chuckled, though the concern didn’t quite leave his eyes. “That’s great, Rachel. Really. Just…watch the language, maybe?”

Rachel’s cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment. “Right. Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.”

Chris’s expression turned serious as he broached a topic of his own. “I’ve got some news from work,” he began, pausing to make sure he had Rachel’s full attention. “We received a tip. There’s a gang leader coming into town, and I’m going to have to be away for a couple of days. The department needs all hands on deck.”

Rachel’s animated recounting slowed, her demeanor shifting as she absorbed Chris’s words. The fidgeting stopped momentarily, replaced by a look of concern. “That sounds serious,” she said, her voice losing its previous buoyancy. “Be careful, okay?”

Chris reached across the table, offering a reassuring squeeze to her hand. “I will. It’s just part of the job,” he replied, trying to ease her worry.

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

That night, Rachel’s usual reserve was replaced by a noticeable boldness as they settled into bed. Without hesitation, she closed the distance between them, initiating a kiss with Chris that carried an assertiveness he hadn’t seen in her before.

“Rachel, wow, I’m not used to this… but I’m definitely not against it,” Chris said, a mix of surprise and delight in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I just felt like it,” Rachel replied, her tone bolder than before. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no problem at all,” Chris quickly reassured her, his voice laced with affection and a hint of amusement at her newfound forthrightness. “I love this side of you, too.”

“Good, because I fucking love you, Chris. And I want to be close to you, now more than ever,” Rachel said, the curse word slipping out effortlessly, as if it were a natural part of her vocabulary now.

Chris paused for a moment, taking in her words and the intensity behind them. “I love you too, Rachel. More than anything,” he responded. 

They went back to kissing and enjoying each other’s bodies.

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

The next day, with Chris away on his stakeout, Rachel was tidying up some shelves when two men entered, immediately drawing her attention with the distinctive scent they carried. The smell intrigued her, lingering pleasantly in her nostrils.

Approaching the men who were perusing the fiction aisle, Rachel couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Hey, need any help finding something?” she offered, her voice carrying her newfound boldness.

The man in the leather jacket turned to her, a friendly grin on his face. “Nah, we’re just browsing, thanks. Got any recommendations, though?”

“Sure, a ton,” Rachel started, then, without thinking, blurted out, “But, damn, what’s that smell? It’s really good.”

The men looked at each other, slightly taken aback but amused. “Uh, probably just our cigarettes,” the man replied, his grin widening. “Didn’t think they’d be a hit, especially indoors.”

Rachel laughed, louder than she intended, her internal filter on vacation. “Well, shit, I usually can’t stand cigarette smoke, but you guys must have some magic brand or something.”

From a few feet away, Jenna, her coworker, couldn’t hide her dismay. “They smell like cigarettes, Rachel. That’s it. Cigarettes,” she said flatly before walking off, clearly not sharing Rachel’s sudden appreciation.

The exchange left Rachel momentarily confused. She shrugged off the moment, focusing back on the men with a shake of her head and a puzzled smile.

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

Rachel sat at her kitchen table.  The room was quiet except the sound of the soft scratching of pen on skin. With a lit cigarette hanging from her lips, she meticulously drew an elaborate design.  Each line and curve flowing into the next, shaping into what was unmistakably a phoenix rising from flames.

The centerpiece of her makeshift tattoo was the phoenix itself, its wings outstretched in defiance, detailed with sharp, angular lines for a modern, edgy flair. The feathers were adorned with geometric patterns and spikes, a nod to the punk culture’s aesthetic of rebellion and resilience. Surrounding the mythical bird were flames, but these weren’t just any flames; they were intricately designed to resemble barbed wire and chains.

Every so often, Rachel paused to take a drag from her cigarette, examining her work with a sense of satisfaction that seemed to fill the room alongside the smoke.  As she finished the last touches on her design, Rachel leaned back, and stretched her arms above her head. She glanced at her work.

“Fuck yeah,” she smirked.  “Tomorrow, this is going to get inked for real.”

She took one last drag and then put out her cigarette directly on the table leaving a small burn mark in the otherwise clean tabletop.

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

Late into the night, Chris finally made his way back to the apartment, exhausted from the stakeout. The first thing he noticed as he opened the door was the unusual smell of smoke that seemed to have permeated their home. Before he could process this further, Rachel was upon him, her energy and affection undeniable as she showered him with kisses and wrapped him in a tight embrace. 

“I fucking missed you so much,” she said between kisses, her words laced with a fervor that was new to Chris.

Taken aback not only by her language but also by the taste of smoke on her breath, Chris gently pulled back. “Rachel, you taste like smoke. Have you been smoking?” he asked, concern creasing his brow.

At first, Rachel tried to brush off his concern with a wave of her hand and a dismissive laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just trying something new,” she said, attempting to redirect his attention.

However, Chris persisted, his worry evident. “Rachel, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

It was then that Rachel seemed to come back to herself, the flurry of affection pausing as she met his gaze. For a moment, she dropped the cursing, her voice dropping to a softer, more troubled tone. “I don’t know, Chris. I just… I’ve been having these thoughts, these urges to smoke, curse, and just… throw myself at you. I tried fighting them, but they feel so natural now.”

Chris’s concern deepened at her admission. “Rachel, maybe you should see someone about this. A therapist could help sort out what you’re going through.”

The suggestion, however, sparked a defiant reaction from Rachel. “Therapy? I don’t fucking need therapy, Chris. This is just me being more… me, I guess.”

Noticing the weight of concern in Chris’s gaze, Rachel shifted her approach, her demeanor turning more playful and teasing, yet direct in her intentions. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a more suggestive tone, laced with her newfound habit of cursing.

“Hey, fuck the worries for now. How about we just go to bed? I promise to make it worth your while,” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips, her suggestion clear in the sparkle of her eyes.

Chris, despite the exhaustion clinging to his bones, found himself caught in the sudden shift in Rachel’s mood. “I’m really beat, Rach. The stakeout was a nightmare,” he tried to protest, the weariness evident in his voice.

But Rachel wasn’t having any of it. She wrapped her arms around him, her resolve clear. “Come on, don’t be such a fucking spoilsport. You need to relax, and I need… well, you. Get that cute ass in bed, detective,” she insisted, her language bold and filled with a playful directness that Chris hadn’t heard from her before.

Letting out a resigned yet amused sigh, Chris allowed himself to be led towards the bedroom, his concern temporarily shelved. As they crossed the threshold into the dimly lit room, he caught a glimpse of Rachel’s arm.

“Did you… get a tattoo?” Chris asked.

Rachel turned her arm, displaying the tattoo with a mix of pride and defiance. “Yeah, I fucking did. Pretty badass, right?”

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

The next morning, Chris awoke to the inviting aroma of fresh coffee. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his way into the kitchen, where the sight that greeted him was Rachel.

She was standing there, wearing only panties and a t-shirt that had been cut up in a way that it revealed much more of her body than any of her usual attire ever did. The shirt hung off her in tatters, deliberate cuts that turned it into something daring and bold. 

Offering Chris a mug of coffee with a wink and a swift kiss, her initial flirtiness was unmistakable. “Morning,” she chimed, her voice playful yet edged with something new.

“That’s quite the… look,” Chris remarked, trying to tread lightly, though he couldn’t mask his astonishment at her choice of attire.

Rachel’s flirtatious veneer cracked instantly, annoyance flashing across her face. “I’m so fucking tired of all my clothes. They’re just so damn boring,” she snapped, her frustration evident as she surveyed the remnants of her once-conservative wardrobe.

Without warning, her irritation seemed to evaporate as she grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the counter and lit it, a defiant gesture that was becoming all too familiar. “Fuck it, I’m not going to work today. I need to go shopping,” Rachel declared, her tone leaving no room for debate as she inhaled deeply, the smoke curling around her in a rebellious dance.

Chris, coffee forgotten, attempted to interject, “Rachel, what about your job? And… this isn’t like you. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

But Rachel was already dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand, the lit cigarette punctuating her movements. “I’m fine, Chris. Just need some new fucking clothes, that’s all,” she retorted, effectively closing the conversation as she exhaled a stream of smoke, her decision made.

No sooner had Rachel declared her intentions to skip work for a day of shopping, than her demeanor shifted once more. Her expression changing from annoyance and defiance, back into a sweet smile. She approached Chris, cigarette still in hand, and with a swift, fluid motion, straddled his lap at the kitchen table. 

Leaning in, Rachel planted a deep, passionate kiss on Chris, her tongue playfully teasing his.  The kiss lingered and Rachel felt Chris get hard, his cock pressing against her panties.  His breathing deepened.

Breaking off the kiss, she looked into his eyes, her expression softening even as her language retained its edge. “I’ll fucking call work and make sure it’s cool. Don’t worry about it,” she promised, a tender reassurance mingled with her now habitual cursing.

As she slid off his lap, she turned back to him.  “I fucking love you, Chris.”  Chris took a sip of his coffee when something soft hit him in the head.  Looking up, he saw a naked Rachel sauntering out of the kitchen toward the bedroom.

“You fucking better not keep me waiting,” he heard her call.

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

Rachel found herself pushing open the door to the clothing store, one known for its alternative flair. The recent additions of shiny metal piercings adorning her ears felt like a badge of honor. As she perused through racks of leather and lace, her fingers brushed against the fabric.

Spotting a particularly daring set of outfits, Rachel couldn’t help but imagine herself in them. “Damn, I’d look fucking hot as hell in these,” she mumbled to herself. The idea of stepping out in such bold attire thrilled her.

The thrill of the moment surged as she clutched the chosen items closer to her chest. “Fuck paying for these,” she thought, a wicked grin spreading across her face. The notion of simply taking what she wanted sent a rush through her veins, edging into arousal. It was a high she hadn’t anticipated, but one she found intoxicating.

As Rachel’s heart raced with the thrill of shoplifting, a fleeting thought of Chris flickered through her mind. Chris, with his detective’s badge and his adherence to the law, would undoubtedly find her current actions more than just problematic. “What would Chris think if he knew? Being with someone who just… takes what she wants?” she pondered, the fabric of the stolen clothes soft under her fingertips.

The idea that her actions could reflect poorly on him, possibly even damage his reputation or career, briefly sobered her excitement. She could almost hear his voice, mixing disappointment with concern, reminding her of the consequences, of how things could spiral out of control if she were caught.

But then, a mischievous spark ignited within her, pushing those concerns to the back of her mind. “He won’t find out. I’m not gonna get caught,” she reassured herself, her confidence swelling. After all, she had never felt more alive, more herself, than in this moment..

With a determined grin, Rachel dismissed the worries about Chris and what might happen if she were caught. The risk, it seemed, was part of the allure, adding an edge to the rush she felt. “I fucking want these clothes. They’re mine,” she thought fiercely.

She effortlessly slipped the items into her bag like she had done it a thousand times before.

Exiting the store, the clothes secured in her bag and her pulse still quickened from the act, Rachel’s eyes caught the neon sign of a hair salon across the street. The sight sparked an immediate decision. “This blonde shit has got to go,” she declared, as she crossed the threshold into the salon. “Make it black, and fucking chop it off,” she instructed the stylist.

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

Later that day while Rachel was out shopping, Chris’s phone rang. The precinct called him in; the punk from their encounter weeks ago was ready to plea bargain. Chris was exhausted from his stakeout, and his time with Rachel, but quickly left for the precinct.

In the sterile confines of the interrogation room, Chris faced the punk he arrested days ago. The punk seemed almost too at ease, given his current predicament, a smirk playing on his lips as he regarded Chris from across the table.

“So, detective, how’s life treating you these days? Your girlfriend doing well?” the punk prodded, his tone laced with a mocking curiosity that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Chris stiffened, his instincts warning him that this was more than idle chatter. “She’s none of your concern,” he replied tersely, trying to steer the conversation away from Rachel.

“Oh, but I think she is,” the punk continued, undeterred. His demeanor remained playful, almost enjoying the game of cat and mouse they were playing. “After our last little… encounter, I’ve been curious about how she’s ‘coming along.’ Noticed any interesting changes?”

Chris’s heart raced, a mixture of anger and fear knotting in his stomach. He had been trying to ignore the nagging suspicion that Rachel’s recent changes weren’t just coincidental. “What did you do?” he demanded, his voice low, a dangerous edge creeping in.

The punk leaned back, clearly enjoying Chris’s reaction. “Let’s just say, I left a little gift for you both. A token of our encounter,” he teased, his gaze sharp. “I’m curious, detective, has she developed any… new hobbies? A sudden interest in things she previously couldn’t stand?”

For a moment, Chris faltered, images of Rachel’s recent behavior flashing through his mind—the smoking, the cursing, the sudden shift in her personality. He had to fight to keep his composure, realizing he was giving away too much. “You’re going to tell me what you did to her,” he said, voice hard, regaining his footing. “But first, you’re going to tell me about your boss. That’s what this is really about.”

The punk’s smile faded slightly, recognizing that Chris wasn’t going to be baited any further into revealing more about Rachel. Yet, the satisfaction of having unsettled the detective lingered. Chris, though momentarily shaken, refocused on the task at hand.

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

Rachel paced her living room, adorned in leather and fishnets that clung to her, showing off her body. Her reflection in the mirror was bold, almost unrecognizable—the makeup around her eyes dark and heavy, giving her a wild, untamed look. Various new piercings adorned her ears, glinting under the light, while her hair, once simple and blonde, was now a striking asymmetrical cut dyed a deep, rebellious black.

With a lit cigarette in hand, she exhaled a cloud of smoke, admiring her new look.  “You look fucking hot babe,” she said to herself. 

A ring of her phone cut sharply through the room, Chris’s name flashing on the screen.

“Chris,” she answered, her voice a cocktail of frustration and anticipation, the cigarette dangling from her lips.

“I’ve gotta head out. That punk gave us something big, and it’s time-sensitive,” Chris’s voice came through, rushed and laced with a hint of regret.

He dove straight into the revelation that had been haunting him, the curse that now explained Rachel’s drastic transformation. “Listen, Rachel, that punk from the other night, he… he cursed you, okay? It’s making you act out, embrace all this… punk behavior.  He said it would make you crave smoking, punk clothes, makeup, even sex.

“Fuck, so there’s a reason I’m turning into a goddamn walking cliché of a punk?” Rachel’s voice cracked, a mix of anger and relief slicing through her. The confirmation brought clarity, but with it, a swell of horror at the implications.  “And now I know why I’ve been so fucking horny all of the fucking time.  I’ve jilled myself off twice since I’ve been home and I’m still all jittery.”

“Listen, we’re gonna fix this. We’ll find a way,” Chris assured her, his voice steady, a beacon in the chaos that had become her life.

“Fucking promise me” she demanded.

“I promise,” came his quick answer.  “As soon as I get back.”

“You better get back here fucking soon,” she exhaled a plume of smoke as she spoke. “And stay safe, I love your fucking ass.”

“I love you too,” he said as he hung up.

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

Rachel, now fully immersed in her new punk persona, strutted into the bookstore the next day for work. Dressed in black leather pants that hugged her tightly and a transparent black top revealing a black lace bra underneath, she was a visual shock to the quaint, quiet atmosphere of the store. Her face was framed with heavy, black makeup, and the smell of cigarette smoke lingered around her, marking her presence before she even spoke.

As she walked in, her boss, who had been arranging books near the entrance, looked up and did a double take, not recognizing the person in front of her.

“Excuse me, can I help you with something?” her boss asked, her voice polite but cautious.

“It’s me, Rachel,” she responded with a half-smirk, her voice laced with a newfound boldness and a hint of defiance.

Her boss’s expression shifted from confusion to shock and then to disapproval as recognition set in. “Rachel? But you called in sick yesterday… And this look, this isn’t appropriate for the bookstore,” her boss stated, struggling to reconcile the Rachel she knew with the person standing before her.

Rachel laughed, the sound harsher than she intended. “Yeah, well, I needed a fucking day. Thought I’d shake things up a bit,” she said, her words casual.

The boss took a moment, her disappointment palpable in the silence that followed. “Rachel, this…your attire, your language, it’s not acceptable here. I’m sorry, but I have to let you go,” she said firmly, the decision clearly paining her.

“Fired? For being too fucking real?” Rachel retorted, her anger flaring. “You know what? Save it. This place is fucking shit anyway.”

With that, Rachel turned and stormed out of the bookstore, the small bell ringing loudly as the door slammed.

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

After being fired, Rachel’s next destination was a local dive bar, a place she’d never before considered her scene, but now felt inexplicably drawn to. She was chasing the numbing embrace of alcohol, yearning for its dulling effect on her spiraling thoughts and emotions. Her appearance alone was enough to turn heads as she entered the dimly lit, sparsely populated bar in the middle of the day.

Striding up to the bar, Rachel slammed her hand down, demanding the bartender’s attention. “I need a fucking drink, make it strong,” she declared, her voice cutting through the low hum of midday patrons and the crackle of a worn-out speaker playing what the bar considered music.

With a glass of something potent in hand, she made her way to a corner table, the clack of her boots on the sticky floor announcing her every step. Lighting up a cigarette, she took a deep drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke as she slumped into the chair, her entire demeanor one of defiance and unrest.

“This music is shit,” she muttered to no one in particular, a sneer twisting her lips as she scanned the room, her gaze challenging anyone to contradict her. Her voice, louder than necessary in the near-empty bar, was tinged with a mix of anger and disdain.

As Rachel sat, nursing her drink and lost in thought, an attractive man caught her eye as he approached with a confident stride. He placed a fresh drink in front of her with a smile that seemed to know too much. “Thought you might need another,” he said, his voice smooth, inviting conversation.

Intrigued and admittedly enjoying the attention, Rachel gestured to the seat opposite her. “Why not,” she replied, a playful smirk forming on her lips.  She leaned forward to grab the drink ensuring the man had a great view of her tits.

The man took the invitation, sitting down next to her and leaning in. His hand quickly found its way onto her thigh as he talked about nothing in particular.

Rachel, drawn in by his confidence and directness, felt a need growing within her. She entertained the conversation, her responses laced with innuendo and the promise of possibility. “You’re not too bad on the fucking eyes, you know,” she teased, leaning forward, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “And god, am I in the mood for some trouble.”

She traced her fingers across his chest and licked her lips teasingly.  As the flirtation reached its peak, Rachel leaned back, her expression shifting to one of contemplation. “But here’s the kicker,” she continued, locking eyes with him. “As fucking horny as I am right now, and believe me I’m rev’d up, I’m madly in love with someone. He’s the kind of love that changes your whole fucking world. So as tempting as this…whatever this is…might be, I can’t. I won’t cheat on him.”

The man, clearly taken by surprise, faltered momentarily, his interest piqued even more by her declaration. Rachel, relishing the moment, continued, “But if looking at a hot piece of ass and a bit of fun conversation is your thing, feel free to stay.  But first, I have to change this fucking music.”

Internally, Rachel was at peace.  This curse, as improbable as it seems, has caused her to change dramatically.  But at her core, her love of Chris remained true.  Somehow she knew she could deal with these compulsions knowing that she maintained control of that central concept. She loved Chris and nothing could change that.  

The man, though visibly disappointed, couldn’t help but respect her honesty and ordered another round of drinks.

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

A few days later, Chris returned. The first thing he saw as he entered the apartment was a layer of smoke.  Then he saw Rachel sitting on their couch, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle in the other.

She was decked out in full punk attire: black leather, chains, and a defiance in her eyes that matched the aesthetic. Yet, when she saw Chris, her expression softened, and a familiar warmth spread across her face.

Chris paused, taking in the drastic changes. “Rachel, this is…wow, you’ve really changed,” he said, trying to mask his surprise.  He noticed more tattoos were now visible on her arms, and additional piercings dotted her ears and one on her nose, glinting metallically, and he thought he saw two barbell shapes poking through her braless top. 

Rachel hugged him, her movements confident yet welcoming. “Chris, look, I know this is… a lot,” she admitted, gesturing to her tattoos and piercings. “But I need you to know something important.”

“What’s that?” Chris asked, his concern evident in his voice.

Rachel took a step closer, her expression serious. “Despite all these changes, how I feel about you hasn’t changed. I’m still me, Chris. I love you. That’s the one thing this…situation hasn’t touched.”

Chris, still processing the visual transformation, focused on her words. “I love you too, Rachel. No matter what you look like, or how many tattoos and piercings you get,” he responded, his voice steady and supportive.

Rachel’s face, alight with relief and warmth at Chris’s acceptance, reflected a mix of emotions. Her gratitude was palpable, her voice carrying a sincerity that touched Chris deeply. “Thank you, Chris. That means everything to me,” she expressed, her eyes softening.

But as quickly as the vulnerability appeared, it morphed into something more provocative and daring. Her posture shifted, becoming more assertive as a wicked grin spread across her face. “But let’s cut the crap, Chris. I’m fucking starving for you. This whole transformation thing? It’s made me hornier than ever,” she declared, her tone laced with a boldness that was both new and electrifying.

Chris, taken aback by the sudden shift, couldn’t suppress a startled laugh, the tension breaking between them. “Well, that’s…quite direct,” he managed, his surprise giving way to a growing warmth in his gaze.

Rachel leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, her breath hot against his ear. “I don’t want to be direct. I want to be fucking clear. I need you, Chris. Now.” Her words were a demand, leaving no room for ambiguity.

The intensity of her desire was palpable, and Chris felt himself drawn into the depth of her need, the raw honesty in her demand igniting his own longing. “Rachel, I…” he started, any thoughts of hesitation evaporating under the heat of her gaze.

She cut him off with a finger to his lips, her eyes alight with a challenge. “No more talking. Show me you’re glad to have me back,” she said, her voice a sultry command that left no doubt about her intentions.

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

After their moment of intimacy, the room still buzzing with the electricity of their connection, Chris and Rachel lay together, wrapped in the quiet aftermath. It was Chris who broke the silence, the weight of his recent experiences pressing on him.

“We made some serious inroads into that gang, finally caught their leader,” Chris began, his voice carrying a mix of pride and exhaustion. He detailed the operation, describing the den they’d infiltrated, the people they’d found there—rebellious, adorned in punk aesthetics, aggressive in their defiance of societal norms.

As he spoke, he didn’t immediately notice the shift in Rachel. But as he inadvertently started to disparage those people, comparing their lifestyle and choices to something negative, something undesirable, he saw a change in her expression. Her face, which moments ago was soft and open, hardened.

Rachel’s reaction was immediate and fierce. “So what? You think I’m just like them? Some kind of freak?” she snapped, her words sharp, her vulnerability turning into anger.

Chris realized his mistake too late. His descriptions, meant to share a part of his life with her, had instead drawn an unintended parallel between Rachel’s recent changes and the very elements of the gang culture he was condemning.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Rachel. I was just talking about the gang, not you,” Chris tried to explain, scrambling to repair the sudden rift his words had caused.

But Rachel was already on the defensive, hurt and retreating behind a wall of vulgarity and anger. “Fuck that, Chris. So now you’re saying I’m just another one of your cases? Some problem you need to fix?” she retorted, her voice rising, the pain evident beneath her harsh words.

As the harsh reality of his words set in, Chris could only watch as Rachel jumped out of bed.   She rapidly layered her punk attire over her naked body, closing off their moment of shared intimacy.   

“I’m sorry, Rachel, I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chris said, his voice filled with regret as he attempted to reach out to her, to explain.

Rachel, however, was in no mood to listen. With her outfit complete, she gave Chris a final look, one that was cold and distant. She turned to him, flipped him off, and left the apartment with a “fuck you”..

Chris was left alone. It dawned on him then just how much Rachel was struggling beneath the exterior changes.  The changed hair style, the tattoos, the piercings, the clothes.  These were layers of compulsions acting as a casing over who she was on the inside.  Something he’d been so careless to hurt.

Realizing he couldn’t let her walk away like this, not when she was this hurt and vulnerable, Chris quickly dressed, grabbed his coat, and chased her out the door. He needed to find her, to apologize, and to show her support, to show her his love.

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

In the crowded dive bar, Rachel found a table far from the bar, immersing herself in the anonymous hum of conversations and clinking glasses. She caught the bartender’s eye, and recognized him as the man who flirted with her a few days before.  She nodded an acknowledgement before sharply gesturing for a drink. Without much delay, he navigated the busy space to bring her a double shot of whiskey.

“Here’s your drink,” he said, setting it down in front of her with a cautious look.

Rachel snorted, her mood souring further in the noisy environment. “About damn time. I needed this fucking drink yesterday,” she shot back, her words laced with the sharp edges of her current state of mind.

She tossed back the whiskey, feeling it burn down her throat, a brief salve from her pain. Sliding the empty glass back towards the edge of the table, she locked eyes with the bartender. “Hit me with another,” she demanded, her stare intense, daring him to comment.

He hesitated, the question in his gaze obvious as he assessed her. The bar buzzed around them, but Rachel’s table felt like a separate world, her demand hanging in the air.

“Sure, I’ll get you another. Just… take it easy, okay?” he finally responded, a mix of professionalism and personal concern in his voice as he took the glass and turned back to the crowd.

Rachel watched him go, a smirk briefly crossing her face at his concern. She leaned back, her demeanor challenging anyone who looked in her direction.  It was unnecessary, everyone left her alone.

Chris entered the dive bar, the noise and dim lighting a stark contrast to the clarity of his mission: to find Rachel. His eyes quickly adjusted, and soon enough, he spotted her in a corner, isolated yet unmistakably present. Before he could take more than a few steps towards her, Rachel’s voice cut through the murmur of the bar, loud and laced with anger.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Chris!” she yelled, her words sharp enough to draw the attention of nearby patrons. “Go back to your perfect, clean-cut world and leave me to my low-class punk life!”

Chris, his resolve firm despite the icy reception, didn’t stop walking toward Rachel even as her shouts pierced the buzz of the dive bar. Her anger was palpable, a raw, unfiltered wave of frustration and defiance aimed directly at him.

“Rachel, please, just let me—”

“No! Just fuck off, Chris!” Rachel cut him off, standing from her seat, her posture rigid with anger. “You think you can just waltz in here and what? Save me? I don’t need your fucking pity or your clean, tidy life!”

Chris reached her, standing firm in the face of her fury. “It’s not about saving you, Rachel. It’s about understanding you, being there for you. I messed up, okay? I get that now,” he said, his voice calm but earnest.

Rachel’s response was immediate and physical, her hands pushing against his chest with surprising strength. “You don’t get shit, Chris! You see this?” she gestured to herself, to the tattoos, the piercings, the outfit. “This is me now. You can’t just come here and pretend everything’s fine!”

But Chris didn’t back down. Instead, he caught her hands gently, pulling her into an embrace she didn’t resist for long. As her hits slowed, and her anger turned to sobs, he whispered, “I’m not pretending, Rachel. I see you—all of you. And I love you. All of you.”

Her voice muffled against his chest, Rachel’s retorts softened, her words blending with tears. “You’re such an idiot, Chris. This… all this is fucking crazy. And you’re here, like some… some…”

“Like some fucking loser who loves you too much to let you go through this alone?” Chris offered, a half-smile in his voice.

Rachel let out a choked laugh, nodding against him. “Yeah, fucking exactly. God, you’re impossible.”

Chris pulled back slightly, looking down into her tear-streaked face. “And you’re incredible. Look, I’m sorry for not being there the way I should have. For not seeing how hard this has been on you.”

Rachel sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re fucking here now, aren’t you? Detective genius found his wayward punk girlfriend.”

“I did. And I’m not going anywhere,” Chris affirmed, his gaze locking with hers, a promise in his eyes.

As Chris and Rachel settled into their newfound calm, the bartender made his way over, a look of concern etched across his face from witnessing the earlier outburst. The noise of the bar seemed to quiet down around them, focusing attention on the small drama unfolding at their booth.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, directing his question towards Rachel, his eyes darting between her and Chris, trying to gauge the situation.

Rachel, now noticeably more at ease, offered him a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, everything’s good,” she confirmed, her tone light but sincere. She then gestured towards Chris, a playful glint in her eye. “This straight-laced, narc-looking dude? He’s actually my loving boyfriend. Was just telling you about him the other day.”

The bartender, picking up on the shift in Rachel’s demeanor and the affectionate, albeit teasing, introduction, nodded politely. “Glad to hear it,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of relief. Setting down the drink he had brought over for Rachel, he added, “Well, if you need anything else, just let me know.”

With that, he turned and left them.  Chris and Rachel shared a look, one filled with love and understanding. The bar seemed to forget them, the noise ramping up again.

After the bartender left, ensuring Rachel and Chris had everything they needed, the atmosphere between them shifted towards a lighter mood. Rachel leaned in closer to Chris, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Guess what? I didn’t just waste my time while you were playing detective. I went shopping,” Rachel said, a smirk playing on her lips.

Chris, intrigued by her tone and the look in her eye, leaned in as well. “Oh yeah? What’d you get?” he asked, picking up on her playful energy.

Rachel’s smirk broadened, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Found us some new toys,” she revealed, her choice of words deliberate, her expression daring him to ask for details. “And I’m not talking about fucking action figures. Think more along the lines of… adult fun.”

Chris’s response was a mix of amusement and surprise. “Is that right? Sounds like you’ve got quite the evening planned for us,” he replied, matching her provocative tone.

“Yeah, I figured we could use a little… excitement. Shake things up a bit,” Rachel said, her words heavy with implication and a hint of challenge. “You game?”

Chris laughed, the sound rich with warmth and anticipation. “With you? Always,” he assured her, reaching for her under the table.  Her hand brushed his aside and teasingly stroked his cock. Rachel’s laugh in response was genuine. “Good, because you’re in for one hell of a night, detective,” she teased.

“I think we’re in for one hell of a life, Rachel,” was his reply.

#f2f transformation #personality change #corruption #f2f

[mxlktxa]

ᴍʏ ᴛᴏʀᴍᴇɴᴛᴏʀ

ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ!ᴀᴜ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ; ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ!ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʙʙʏ ᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ; ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ*, ᴅɪɴᴀ ɴᴏʟᴀꜱᴛɴᴀᴍᴇ (ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ), ᴊᴇꜱꜱᴇ ɴᴏʟᴀꜱᴛɴᴀᴍᴇ (ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ), ᴀʙʙʏ ᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴏɴ, ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ ᴄᴡ; ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, 18+ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ/ᴠᴇʀʙᴀʟ ꜰɪɢʜᴛꜱ, ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ, ᴠᴜʟɢᴀʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛꜱ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ/ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ (ɴᴏᴛ ꜰᴀᴛᴀʟ), ᴇʟʟɪᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴅɪᴄᴋ (ᴏʀ ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ) ᴡᴄ; 2.7ᴋ, 14.6ᴋ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

˗ˏˋ ‘ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏʀᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ’ ´ˎ˗

It had been months since I had broken up with Ellie. I spent three years in a shitty relationship with her, being ignored, argued with, beat on, lost some friends, lied about, cheated on. And that’s not everything. She was an amazing person for the first three or four months but then slowly trickled into being so… Undesirable. Abusive. Repulsive. Vulgar. I told my side of the story to anyone who would listen but it only lost me a few more friends since Ellie apparently was a champ at making herself much more likeable and convincing. Not to Dina, Jesse, or even one of my other exes, Abby. She was the biggest sweetheart.

During the first two months of me trying to forget and move on— in reality, I just spent crying and beating myself up— she would stalk me at my work place, follow me wherever I went, sent messages begging for me to come back on different socials and don’t get me started on how many numbers and accounts she’s used when I ignored and blocked her. She even asked Abby about my whereabouts and tasks, threatened to kick her ass if she didn’t tell her anything. She doesn’t even like Abby! It was a living hell. I had to move maybe two times and switch jobs just to get away for a maximum of three months. But now here I am. Seven months with peace, somwhat still heartbroken and feeling like shit but nonetheless moving on and a little happier.

I jolted awake, gasping softly and rubbing my eyes slightly. I flipped onto my stomach, to hug the pillow I was laying in and try to clear my head, rid myself of the images of the little nightmare I had.

“Did you have a good nap?” Abby chuckled, noticing I was waking up. Looking to my nightstand, I squinted at the screen, trying to see a bit better, being reminded that I was supposed to be watching a movie with her.

“Shit,” I whispered, “Abby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to knock out,” I huffed, rubbing my eyes again.

“It’s not a problem.”

“I just haven’t slept a bunch lately and I’m so paranoid.”

“Y/N.”

“I know I shouldn’t be, I should calm down and chill out but—.”

“Y/N. It’s fine. You’ve every right to be afraid right now and you don’t need to explain yourself. I understand,” Abby’s words gave me a bit of comfort, relaxing my muscles and just smiling at her.

We both knew there was still some sort of connection between the two of us but we held off on getting back together. Mainly since I wasn’t trying to see anyone in a romantic manner for a bit but also because Abby swore she would wait until I was ready. I know it seems like we’re already offical to some with how much we talk and hang out but I swear we aren’t. Not yet. She was just the biggest sweetheart. Dina and Jesse were busy almost all day everyday with their little music career but they checked up on me just enough.

“Did you like Coraline?” I asked, finally coming back to my senses about how long I’d been staring at this woman, shyly looking away and shaking my head.

“Yeah, it was pretty good,” she said, “I loved the final form of the Other Mother, that was super cool,” Abby admitted with the biggest smile on her face. We both went silent for a second, tension growing and my expression faltering.

‘You fucking come back here, you stupid bitch! I’ll fucking kill you!’

Suddenly, I was cold and afraid. Bits and pieces of my dream coming into thought just to harass me. The room was only getting colder and any blanket I threw on top of myself didn’t help. Mind you I had about three thick blankets in the room.

“Tell me what happened, babe,” Abu spoke with confidence, immediately catching what she said, “Er, Y/N. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, don’t… You’re fine,” my eyes met my phone screen finally, “I had a dream that I was finally fed up with Ellie so I got a restraining order. Once she was aware, she didn’t give any fucks about it and broke into my house, demanding I dismiss it or she would kill me,” I shrugged.

“Have you put placed one on her?” Abby looked to me with worried eyes but her face showed confidence, “nevermind, you just… yeah.”

“Big dummy,” I giggled, reaching for my phone and getting under my blanket, “do I still talk in my sleep?”

“Yes, actually. There were some things you said that I couldn’t pick up on but we did have a full conversation.”

“What? About what? What did I say?”

“I’ll send you a recording. It was funny,” Abby chuckled, shaking her head. I shook my head and sat up, walking downstairs to the kitchen.

Abby and I sat in a comfortable silence, doing our own things at the time. I set my phone up against a little jar before I went to search for a snack and something to drink, glancing over occasionally Abby was minding her own business, doing whatever research she was doing this time. Last time, she was trying to do research on some pirates, Henry Avery or something.

After about ten, fifteen minutes, I turned to the camera seeing that Abby was already staring at me. I grinned at her, a piece of toast in hand and a cup of apple juice in the other.

“Butter and jelly?” Abby asked. I only nodded at her, taking a bite of my little snack, “you love that stuff.”

“Best thing I could ever have.”

“Above your fruit bowls?”

“Definitely not,” I scoffed, taking all my belongings and going to the living room, “do you think you can come see me tomorrow? I wanna go out,” I whispered, continuing with my toast.

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Maybe we can see Dina and Jesse, get some lunch or something… I don’t know.”

“We can figure something out, no worries,” Abby shrugged, reaching for her phone, “listen, try and go back to bed, yeah? I can pick you up tomorrow morning and we can figure it out,” Abby smiled at me, looking me all over.

I nodded at her, immediately going to finish up my toast and put my apple juice away. I walked upstairs, peeking at Abby who was settled and waiting on me. My head met the pillow, Abby and I yawning in sync.

“Abby?” I whispered, hiding half of my face in my pillow, “should we just say fuck it and make it official? I think I’m ready to start over. But with you.”

Abby chuckled, nodding, “I want whatever you want. You know this.”

“Then I guess you also want some sleep so we can go out tomorrow,” I brought the phone closer to my face. Abby copied the action kissing the camera before I could, “goodnight, Abs,” I hesitated yet sighed softly, “I love you, Abigail.”

Her eyes lit up, filled with joy and surprise, “I love you too, Y/N.”

We waved at the camera before hanging up on each other. I held my phone to my chest, all giddy and excited about getting back with Abby and getting to possibly hang out with her, Dina, and Jesse.

I glanced at my phone, getting a hold of it to check if I jad amy notifications. I wished I hadn’t though.

‘open the door we need to talk’

I read the message from the unknown number that was showing up, my entire body feeling cold and stiff. I thought this was over. I thought that I could finally have peace. I changed my number and have moved so much, I don’t know what else I could possibly do!? This had to be a dream, a joke. It was Dina fucking with me. No, no, it’s Jesse, he’s doing this.

Shaky fingers tapped the message, typing insanely slow, deleting and re-typing, wanting to send a message that wouldn’t escalate the situation and would make her go away.

‘??? wrong number???’

You idiot. Why would you send that? She knows when I’m playing dumb, she always did. Fuck me.

‘y/n dont fucking act like this yk who it is and yk better than this’

‘ellie just go home. its been so long just let it go’

‘scuse me?’

That door is definitely getting kicked down.

‘ill call the cops’

‘sweetheart youre not that stupid’

‘you dont know that’

‘ik that you should open this door before i kick it down and drag you to the car now lets fucking talk’

My mind raced with multiple scenarios, Ellie coming in and sending me to the hospital, forcing me to pack and move back with her, Ellie trying to pleasure me and coaxing me into coming back to her, and sweet talking me. Giving a genuine, sincere, heartfelt apology. So manny kisses, hugs, apologies, everything. She’d tell me she loves me and take me out so much more than she did before. I could see it now, Ellie taking her time to—

“Open the door wider,” Ellie demanded, leaning in the crack of the door and grinning softly at me, “I just wanna talk babe… I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Fuck, when did I even come downstairs? “Ellie. I’m tired I don’t wanna talk. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“I’m not asking you again,” she cut me off, hand behind her back so obviously reaching for her switchblade.

“Ellie.”

“Open the door!”

The door was kicked open, knocking me back which allowed Ellie to storm in, shutting the door behind her, backing me into a wall.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Y/N, it’s okay,” she whispered into my ear with a faux, sweet tone, “I just wanna talk, okay? Let’s talk.”

“I-I don’t want to.”

“Yes you do, baby. Come sit. Just like we used to, come sit with me and we can talk.”

I didn’t even get to make up my own mind. I was dragged to the couch, nearly thrown down. Ellie finally revealed her switchblade, the cold metal against my chest, slight pressure being applied. I sat, horrified to even breathe or move even just my eyes away from her neck.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered in my ear, “you know I love you, yeah? I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Ellie,” I whimpered at the blade being taken away from my flesh, dragging my feet up as carefully as possible so I could position myself to push her away whenever I was ready.

Ellie’s forehead connected with mine, her other hand coming up to caress my face with such gentle and loving hands. That didn’t make me forget about the switchblade in her hand, it only worried me more.

“Why’d you leave, babe? Hm? We can work this out, I’ll change. I promise.”

“You’ve said that countless times, Ellie. Each time you never changed, only got worse,” I complained, “you would ignore me when we were out together which is embarrassing, you cheated on me whenever I told you I didn’t want to be intimate with you, you sent me to the hospital, disrespected my parents and so much more!”

Ellie went from caring and cautious to angry and unreasonable. Too quickly. My hands shot up to her chest, regretting that I raised my voice at her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to yell at you, I’m sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she huffed, “I don’t know who you think you’re raising your voice at but it’s definitely not me,” her fist clenched on my shoulder, knife coming in contact with my thigh, “you’re gonna fucking act right.”

“Fuck you,” with that, I kicked her away from me, sending her over the table and on her ass. I bolted up the stairs, nearly tripping over a few steps but successfully made it to my room, locking the door.

“You stupid, fucking cunt!”

I searched my bed for my phone, grabbing it from under my pillow.

“Y/N! Come out right now!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Abby. Call Abby!

“It’s about to get real fucking stupid in this house, come out right now!”

Please, please, pick up.

“Hello?” Abby hummed.

I sighed, quietly thanking god as I wiped my tears away and sniffled before replying, “Abby, please, it’s Ellie!”

“What?”

“Ellie’s here! She’s trying to get in the room! Can you please come!? I’m so scared!”

Abby didn’t even respond, I could only hear her blankets shuffling and soon the rattling of her keys, “try to call Dina and Jesse too, okay? I’m on my way.”

“Please hurry, Abby,” I hung up and texted Dina and Jesse, begging that they would at least read the message.

“You have three seconds to open this door or you’re in for it big-fucking-time!” Ellie was banging on the door, cracks already so evident within the door.

“Go away, Ellie! I don’t wanna talk and I don’t want to be near you!” I cried, gunning it to the window after sliding my phone beneath the bed.

“I don’t give any fucks on what you want! Open the fucking door!”

I opened the window, attempting to punch out the screen but I had no strength to do so and I didn’t think kicking it would do any better. While I made my weak, sorry attempts, Ellie was just starting to do real damage to the doors. My body went into overdrive, pushing, punching, and shoving the screen.

“Leave me alone!”

A few more punches had done the trick, instantly crawling through the window. Only to realize if people see me on my roof they’ll either think I’m crazy or they’ll just stare. I didn’t really have time to think about that as Ellie had barged in the room, storming over to yank me from the window and to the floor.

“What’s going on in that stupid fucking head of yours, hm? And Abby? What’s going in with Abby? You back with her? Hm?” Ellie’s words were almost muffled as I was trying to recover from how hard my head had collided with the floor.

“Ellie, stop it,” I whined, seeing two of her and whimpering with my hands in front of my face. Ellie pulled my up by the hair as her switchblade sat on my thigh, “please don’t, Els.”

Everything froze. Ellie stared at me while my vision started to fix itself. She seemed please, almost. Her lips rested on my neck, sucking and biting on mu flesh as the blade now sat on my abdomen.

“I’ve missed hearing that.”

“Stop it.”

“You know I love you, babe.”

“I don’t wanna do this, Ellie.”

“Shh, just relax.”

“Fuck you.”

Our eyes met. I was terrified, she was was well beyond livid. I furrowed my brows, wincing lightly at her. Her expression showed that she was apologetic yet had no intention of truly apologizing for what she had just done.

She had stuck her switchblade right in my midsection.

“Ellie?” I whispered, hand coming to meet the new wound she’d given me, “did you?”

“I tried to stop it. But you don’t fucking listen,” she spat, withdrawing the weapon and walking away.

My phone rang from beneath the bed. Glancing at my little gash, I wailed at the sight, deciding to crawl to it anyways.

Abby…

With my bloody hand I held my wound and the other gave attention to the call, “Abby?”

“Y/N? Are you okay? Is she still there? I’m about to pull into the driveway right now.”

“She,” I whined, applying pressure to stop the bleeding, “stab wound. It’s not too deep. It hurts so bad. She’s gone.”

“She stabbed you?”

“Just focus in staying awake, yeah? I’m coming up!”

Just as she promised, I heard a car pulling in and a door slamming shut. Her voiced echoed from outside and on the phone, breathing completely uneven.

“Abby!” with all my might, I begged for her, dropping the phone and struggling to even stand, “Abby, help me!”

I met her at the top of the staircase, falling into her arms, gradually blacking out. I could barely make out what she was saying. ‘Okay’? ‘Got you’? That’s all I could make out.

I don’t know why Ellie had such a hard on for me but I do know that she won’t be moving on anytime soon.

I just want to be safe. I just want her to leave me alone.

When will this be over?

————————

ᴀɴ; ɪ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴇɴꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ʏᴀʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜰ ɪᴍ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏ ᴄᴡ’ꜱ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴍᴋ

#modern! au #the last of us #the last of us p2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine #tlou #tlou2 #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #ellie williams #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou ellie #ellie tlou #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie imagine #𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ⋆˚✿˖°

[twisted-lusty]

Explaining the situation.

Hello dear sinners. I’m Lust(y), and, as some of you may know, I was a small Twisted Wonderland writer who just disappeared during the start of 2023. Well, some of you may know what happened to me… but for those who don’t: I almost got doxed.

You see, the main focus of my blog has always been NSFW… And I not only used to write NSFW of the 3rd years (like in this blog) but also from the other characters of the cast - with exception of Ortho. I always separated the media from reality and I still follow this policy, however, some people don’t see the same. I really don’t mind with folks blocking me or not enjoying my content, however, I was heavily harassed by the fandom. 

Most of the time I used to delete the comments, but sometimes, I was a bit petty or showed them some arguments. Anyways, soon the asks in my inbox started to get heavier and I started to feel a bit afraid. It got to the point I received gore links and other stuff. Still, I wasn’t that worried… until someone sent a message with the name of my city on it and explicit threats to find where I live, study/work and places I tend to go, together with my real info.

Of course, it was probably just someone crossing information, but still, I got extremely afraid. It’s not everyday someone sends you the name of your city that isn’t so popular for people outside of Brazil. I got very scared and just wiped up my blog from Tumblr - and nowadays, I see how irresponsible it was from me. I should have at least left a note behind and not make people I used to interact with share what happened. I feel deeply sorry for you guys and the friends I made in the fandom.

I may still have some prints of the messages I received, however, it’s not guaranteed. I will try to find those as some kind of proof, but it may be hard to do so.

The blog was initially made because a mental health professional advised me to do so, to somehow help me… It soon proved to be hell to me, but nowadays, I decided to give another chance. Again, I apologize for everything and hope you guys can forgive me! I don’t want any kind of problem or drama anymore…

Thanks for everything. I’ll try to be as active as I can, however, it may be a bit hard due to my personal life and the little paranoia I got from the situation. I don’t plan on doing big projects like continuing the fangame or anything like this… and probably, I’ll just stick to Tumblr. 

Anyways, thanks for reading, my little sinners. If you have any questions, feel free to send me.

With love, Lust~

#twisted-lusty #twisted lusty #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic

[astxroiid]

meant to be yours // stalker!edward nashton

wc: 4.3k

Warnings: dark themes! Stalking, obsession, manipulation, screaming, murder, 1 mention of s*x trafficking (not Ed), mature themes! swearing, smut, 18+ content, oral (m and f receiving), implied inexperienced!Eddie, bondage, penetration, unprotected sex! Please be safe irl! dom!reader, sub!eddie, masochism, sadism, bondage, breath play.

Summary: as you start fresh in a new city, you hope Gotham won’t be the same as the town before. And after beginning a relationship with the cutest boy you’ve ever seen, you really hope things go well - but it all takes a turn when he leaves his laptop open and unlocked…

Author’s Note: I do not support any actions taken in this fic. This is purely for self indulgence - I do not condone these actions in the real world. Stalking is a real crime and a horrible thing to actually do. I’m just writing out my own sexual fantasy.

navigation ✩ part two <?>

Edward had frequented the café you work at almost immediately after you got the job. Granted, that wasn’t long, but seeing such a handsome man everyday gave you something to look forward to.

You’d been pretty down after leaving your hometown - your ex having ran you off. Edward already knew that, though. He also knew his name was Michael and he grew up in a wealthy family - but you hadn’t.

Typical, he thought, some big and rich town boy looking to use a pretty girl for a short time before discarding her and moving on like it never happened.

But - rather uncharacteristically - he didn’t move on as fast as they normally do. He held on, harassed you into quitting your job and losing your friends. That wasn’t enough for Mike though. He wanted it all. He continued with his tormenting until he was satisfied and you had fled town.

Edward made a mental note to compare this man to Icarus, flying to close to the Sun, too greedy for his own good. Edward would make sure his wax wings melted. But that was an issue for later.

Right then he was focused on getting your attention. At this point in time you’d never spoken to each other. At least verbally. In Edwards eyes he just knew the glances over your shoulder meant something more than seeing if he needed a refill.

It was a way of telling him you were interested, you wanted him - just as much as he wanted you.

To be fair, he wasn’t completely deluded. His creep-o brain hadn’t made it all up. You were interested. And you definitely wanted him. Your favorite pastime being filling up his cup, slightly bent over with your shirt undone. This gave Ed a complete face full of your chest.

The best part was watching his face go red but he’d never move his eyes, keeping them set on the one spot. You’d giggle, ask if he was okay, pretend you didn’t know. But you both knew you meant it.

One day you had purposely worn your skirt higher, bending over and letting Ed see your red laced thong. His eyes never left you after that.

Another day you had deviated from your schedule, requested off on a day you normally worked. This threw Eddie of his rhythm. You walked in wearing your normal clothes, one’s Edward never saw outside of binoculars, media posts, and long distances away.

A low-cut, v-neck shirt and tight jeans topped off with Vans and sparkling jewelry.

You scooted into the booth opposite him, smiling. The poor boys expression was one of shock and fear. Were you confronting him? Had you found out it was more than just coming into the café everyday? Did you find out his plans for Michael?

None of it made sense. Why would you be smiling if you had?

You giggled. “I figured since you haven’t asked me out yet we’d just have a date here. It’s long overdue, don’t you think?” He nodded his head excitedly.

Edward smiled at the memory, you’d always been so forward, choosing action over inaction every time. He kissed your forehead and tucked you in.

“Mmm. D’you have to go to work?” You groan from the bed, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a proper kiss. Ed hums and struggles to catch himself as you pull him down more.

He breaks free, panting. “Honey, I’ll be late.”

“I don’t give a shit,” you retort, pulling him on top of you. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in, grinding up into his hips. His head hangs between your neck and shoulder. He groans at the pleasure.

“Stay with me,” you plead in a sultry tone, rubbing him with each sentence. “I want to feel you again.”

Your menstruations start to work on Eddie, he’s giving in. He kisses your neck and you feel him harden in his pants. 

It takes you starting to unbutton his shirt to bring him back. “My love, I really have to get going. I’ll miss the train.”

You huff and roll your eyes.

“Wait for me?” He asks. It’s a simple question that highlights undertones of a fear you’ll leave.

“Of course,” your voice is so soft it melts his heart. He kisses you one last time.

━━━━ ✭˚ ? >

You’d fallen back to sleep soon after Eddie left. You’d definitely had a long enough night to put you out of commission for the whole day.

You woke to the sound of a notification dinging. You checked your phone to see if it was Edward, only to realize your phone was dry. You look around for the culprit, connecting eyes with Ed’s laptop.

You squint at it angrily, moving to shut the screen but your eyes glimpsed the text appearing. The notification.

‘Local Billion-Heir Dies in Explosion at His Own Estate’ It’s talking about Michael.

Your hand comes to cover your mouth gently as you click open the article. Someone planted a bomb in his house, timed it perfectly to catch him off guard. They also leaked a lot of terrible things Michael and his family had been involved in.

Were it not for his death, you’d say he deserved it. His dirty laundry being aired to the world. Serves an asshole like him right. But he died. You remind yourself. He didn’t deserve death. Even after everything.

You happen to look up and read the tabs open on Edward’s computer. Basic stuff. Netflix, YouTube, and Spotify filling all three of the notes. Opening Netflix brings you to the movie you were watching with Ed last night - interrupted by other activities.

You check Spotify, finding a couple of handmade playlists and artists you could easily guess he listens to. Moving to YouTube you keep the same curious mood, sure it won’t be any different than the previous two.

It’s a video of a man sitting behind a table, plastic and metal pieces of a device scattered before him. You read the title. ‘Bomb Building for Beginners’

You gasp and jump back, knocking over the desk chair.

No. No this couldn’t be right. Just a crazy coincidence. Something for work. He is the head risk analyst at Shuttle Co. Maybe that has something to do with it.

You need to look more. The video is pretty basic, the man states that the video is purely for viewing purposes and not to be followed.

You search his desktop, hoping to find nothing while your heart pounds in your chest and a voice in your head knows you’ll find more.

There’s a file. ‘M.C.’. Michael Collins.

“Please be wrong. Please be wrong,” you beg in a whisper while clicking it.

You’re not. It’s pages upon pages of information about Michael. His parents. Where he went to school. What his hobbies are. Every partner he’s ever had since high school - including you. There’s pictures here you’ve never seen from the press.

Did Edward take these?

There’s also diagrams of bombs, how to detonate them from safe distances, keeping them untraceable…

You feel like your going to faint. Or vomit. Probably both. But some morbid part of your brain is still curious. It still wants to look, see everything Ed has done.

You find more on what Mike and his parents got up to. The files leaked to the press. The Collins’ ran a sex trafficking ring as well as some other extremely illegal incomes of money.

Their story of wealth was bullshit.

Maybe it was deserved. The thought passes your mind for a millisecond before you correct yourself. No. Not good. No one deserves to die like that.

C’mon. You know you wanted Big Mike Collins to get what was coming to him. And based on the evidence, his family was long overdue for a reckoning. The voice in your head persists.

“No! Stop. No one should kill anyone. I’m not defending a murderer.” You hit your temple with the heel of your hand.

You freeze, looking at the clock on the wall, realizing Ed will be home any moment. You scramble around trying to figure out what to do.

Do you take the laptop? Turn it in to the authorities? No, surly they’ll kill Eddie for what he did. You don’t want another murder. Do you leave him a note? Ask him to leave you alone - don’t talk to you ever again?

Your thoughts are interrupted buy Edward’s apartment door opening. “Hey, sweetheart, I missed you.”

His eyes land on your worried expression before flicking to his laptop, open and displaying his plans for Michael. Fuck.

“S-stay away,” you extend your arm in front of your body. “You’re a murderer!”

He sighs, setting his bag down. “Y/n, I only did what was best. You can’t tell me that asshole didn’t deserve his karma.”

“You’re crazy!” Ed steps toward you, palms up in submission. You jump back. “Get away from me!”

You run to the bathroom, locking yourself in.

“Y/N! Y/n, please. Listen—”

“Go away!” You sob, back pressed to the door. Your arms wrap around your knees, hugging yourself.

“He was terrible to you. He deserved to be put in his place!”

“By killing him?!” Your voice cracks and Ed’s heart breaks to hear you so broken.

“You saw the things he and his family did. How corrupt they were. They had it coming.”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Edward freezes, looking aghast. “I— but we— we’re meant to be together, y/n. Please. I’m yours! Just give me a chance!”

“No. You lost that chance when you killed a man,” you turn to the door angrily, pretending the wood was Ed’s face.

“Please! Open the door!” He begs, desperate. “Let me make it up to you! I promise! I’ll never do it again!”

Silence.

“Y/N OPEN THE DOOR!” He punches the wood dividing the two of you. “Open the door… please.”

The last word sounded so needy it reminded you of the night before. Involuntarily sending butterflies to your stomach and the memories. Fuck this is wrong on so many levels.

You hear his quiet sobs behind the door. Your positions match each other. Backs pressed into the wood, heads leaned back with arms hugging your legs. Everything the same down to the tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I wanted you to feel safe with me,” Edwards voice is hoarse and pathetic yet somehow still erotic. “I knew you’d never feel secure with that asshole still out there. I knew your fears of him coming back and breaking us up. But y/n, I’d never leave you. Not for anything.”

Against your better judgment, your heart warms at his words. How much he cares.

He’s demented! The logical side of your brain tries to reason. But the irrational side is giving in, sending heat to your core at the sounds of Eddie’s panting.

“Please don’t leave me,” fuck his begging is getting to you. If he keeps it up your logic won’t last long.

You both sit in silence for a moment. Fuck it.

You stand and Edward turns at your noises just in time for you to open the door, looking down at his pathetic form on the floor.

“Y/n- please I—”

You lean down and kiss him so fast he has little time to breathe. You place your hand under his chin, pulling him up. He struggles between standing and not breaking his kiss with you, scared it’s the last.

Once he’s up and his face above yours, his hands make their way to your jaw - holding you close. You press your tongue into his mouth and Eddie hums. Your jaws move in time, used to each other.

“You said you wanted to make it up to me?” You say parting from Ed and allowing him to breathe. He’s panting hard.

“Yes! Please! Anything. I’ll do any—”

“Get on your knees.”

His pupils dilate. “Yes ma’am,” he hits the floor immediately. You know this is wrong but - fuck - the way he’s looking up at you, glasses fogged, hair a mess, waiting.

“Take them off,” you gesture toward your shorts and he obeys. Grabbing the hem and tugging them down hastily. “Underwear too, Ed.”

Just your demanding tone alone has Eddie hard as a rock in his slacks. Once he’s done as he’s told, you smile and pull your shirt over your head.

He’s watching your every move like a hawk. Never taking his eyes off you. He sits with his hands in his lap, waiting for further instruction.

You run your fingers through his hair, lightly grabbing a handful.

“Go on,” you look him dead in his eyes. He knows what your saying and he follows. Opening his mouth he connects with your already soaking wet pussy. You’re both still keeping eye contact while his tongue starts to work on you.

You lean your head back and moan loud when he presses through your folds, flicking your clit. You use the hand full of hair to push him harder against you.

He moves his hands from his lap to your hips, massaging circles in the bone. Your legs go weak at the feeling of him working his tongue on you, knowing exactly how to press and push to get you closer.

You moan his name loud enough to feel the echo through the tiny apartment. You’re both panting, with you singing his name out repeatedly - sprinkling in bits of yes and swears to fuel his desire.

Eddie decides your not pushing hard enough and uses his grip on your thighs to pull himself into you with such a force you almost lose your balance.

You pull his head back by the hair and Edward moans at the pleasure, breathing heavy. You kneel down, bringing yourself to his level. Your lips connect again and you hum at the taste of yourself.

“Get on the bed, love.”

He nods again and stands at once, making his way to the beaten mattress.

Edward lays flat, patient for you, yet nervous most of all. You climb on top of him, raising yourself above his body. You reach into his side drawer and pull out a pair of fluffy handcuffs you never got around to using last night.

You gently take his wrists in your hands. “You gonna be a good boy for me?”

He gives a small, yet eager nod, doe eyes trained on yours.

“Words, baby. Use your words,” your voice, Ed notes, is gentle - like rain, or sunshine.

“Yes. I will.”

“Good.”

You lock his wrists in place, pulling the cuffs through the metal of the bed-frame.

You climb down his body, pushing his shirt up above his chest and moving on to his slacks, unbuttoning them as you place a tender kiss to the happy trail just above the low hem-line.

You take his pants and boxers down in one fluid movement, letting his impressive erection fall to his stomach. The poor boy already leaking pre-cum onto himself.

You bite your bottom lip and smile.

Once his pants are off you settle between his knees, taking his length in your hand.

He’s already pretty vocal. Moaning at the pleasure of just your hand on him. You knew he hadn’t done much before you but fuck you loved this.

You pump your hand once, rotating your hand and rubbing your thumb across his slit before moving your palm back down.

Fuck the moan he gives in response is enough to make you cum. It’s whinny and needy and silently begging for more. But you can tell from just this it’d be easy to make him cum.

You lift his cock up and lick a long stripe from base to tip, locking eyes with him as you go.

“F-f-fuck, ah…” his hips shake as his head falls back.

“You like that, baby?”

“God— fuck. Yes! Please…”

“Please, what, love? What do you want me to do? Anything for my sweet boy.” You brush his sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.

Already sweaty? Damn. You had more of an effect than you’d thought.

“P-please… keep touching m-me. Please,” he struggles against his restraints, wanting desperately to touch you.

“As you wish.”

You continue moving your hand up and down, rotating and pumping at an agonizingly slow pace.

He’s whimpering now.

“Mmm. Uh. More… please?”

“More? I’m using my whole hand, I can’t use more of that.”

He moans again as you stop your hand to grab his balls, squeezing them into your hand along with his shaft, letting them fall out of your grip as you move to pump him again.

“Mouth… use your mouth, fuck. Please.”

“Like this?” You ask, giving him an evil look as you wrap your mouth around the tip of his dick, swirling your tongue and humming.

“Y-yes. God— more, please,” he looks pathetic; his arms are straining against the handcuffs, face contorted in pleasure, hips shaking, chest sweaty.

You decide to stop teasing. Taking him more and more in your mouth, sinking down on his cock.

His exclamation of pleasure doesn’t fall on deaf ears, that much is evident by the pool of arousal dripping from your core, down your thighs.

You use your hand to pump what few inches you can’t take. He groans, long and whinny.

“F-fuck…”

You hum, sending vibrations throughout his base. You start to bob your head at a pleasant pace, not wanting to torture him anymore.

A string of curses leave his mouth along with hums of your name.

You dig the nails of your unoccupied hand into his thigh, leaving crescent shaped indentations in Edward’s skin.

He hisses at the pain mixing with pleasure, groaning when you drag your fingers down, leaving red scratches as you go.

You scoop his balls into the same hand that’s holding his length, squeezing them together.

“Fuck, baby— I’m close. Please— shit!” He interrupts himself when you spit on his tip, using your free hand to work it down his shaft and back up to the head of his cock.

You pull away from him, not ready for him to finish yet. Reaching up to the restraints at his wrists you unhook the claps and free him from the cuffs.

Ed’s hands immediately fly to your hips, shoving his face into your breasts - which happened to be positioned perfectly above him.

You smile, humming at the pleasure, and sit back on your heels. Edward follows you up, eyes locked on yours the whole time, mouth never leaving your tits.

His arms wrap around your body, Ed pulling you as close to him as possible. You run your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp along the way.

“Such a good boy for me…” you trail off, flashes of what was happening before all this coming to you. Reminding you of what he did.

Fuck this is wrong. Twisted in every way imaginable. But isn’t this what you’d always wanted? A man willing to do anything for you - not afraid of your big and rich ex, not worried of Mike coming for him because of you?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the pleasure of Ed pushing your hips down, grinding you against his erection.

“Fuck…” you’re more sensitive than you thought. Edward moans with you at the feeing - sending vibrations through your chest.

“C-can i— um- could i…”

You look down at him expectantly, his doe eyes locking on yours, he’s pleading with you to understand what he’s trying to say so he doesn’t have to speak it out loud.

You know what he wants, but it’s so fun to hear him ask. You play dumb.

“Could you what, baby? What does my pretty boy want?” You brush your hand through his hair and down the side of his face, cupping his chin.

He smiles sweetly at the nickname. “Can I put it in?” His voice is small, insecurity laced in his tone.

“Of course, baby.”

He nods quickly, reaching beneath you and aligning himself. You help him; leaning up, pushing your chest more in his face (though he’s not complaining), moving your hips to get him adjusted right.

You sink down slowly onto Edward’s cock, groaning and the sensation of him stretching your walls.

“Ah-h— uh…” he moans in your ear, trying his best to calm his heartbeat, or even steady his breathing. To no avail.

The sight of you, completely naked, cock pressed into your cunt, and blissed out will always have this effect on him.

“F-fuck,” he shakily groans and you rock your hips back and forth. He keeps looking between your face and where your bodies are connecting, unsure of what to focus on.

“Please… fuck. Y/n, please keep going. God! Don’t stop…”

You wouldn’t dream of it. Because fuck he feels amazing. He’s deep enough for you to feel his cock pushing into your cervix.

You lean in and capture his lips in a heated kiss. You push your tongue into Ed’s mouth, moving your jaws in time with each other.

You soon move your face to his neck, biting down. He exclaims in both shock and pleasure. You keep your teeth sunk into his skin until your satisfied with the mark that will be left.

You push Edward back, making him lay down again. You lean back, looking toward the ceiling. Edward wraps a hand around your breast and pinches at your nipple.

You moan at the mixtures of pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck, baby. Squeeze them,” you instruct. He does as he’s told. Using both hands to squeeze your tits, massaging them and occasionally rubbing your sensitive nipples.

You lean forwards and Eddie’s hands move to gently hold your hips as your fingers wrap around the columns of his throat, cutting of his circulation.

His head feels dizzy as you expertly roll your hips down onto him. A strangled moan leaves him and you don’t let up on your movements.

There’s a knot forming in your stomach, but you can tell Ed is closer to cumming than you.

You tighten your grip on his neck when you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck… can I- can I cum?” Edward’s squeezing his eyes shut, concentrating as hard as possible.

“Cum for me, baby. I want you to finish inside me. I wanna feel you filling me up.”

And just as he tips over his own edge you release his throat, allowing the blood to flow back to his brain.

Eddie cums deep inside you, holding your hips down to his.

The moan he gives is pathetic and needy, high pitched as he breathes out your name.

Ed uses his hands to move your hips, making you grind a few more times on him.

You slide off of him, feeling hollow without him in you.

You let him catch his breath, smiling down at him.

“Did you..?”

You shake your head. He looks upset.

“Don’t worry, love. You’re helping me with that. Right?”

He nods aggressively.

“Good.”

You move to position your core above his face, looking down your body and into his expectant eyes.

“You’re going to eat me out until I cum. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Edward hooks his arms behind your hips, resting his hands on your inner thigh.

He stretches upward licking through your folds, pulling a moan from deep in your chest.

You push yourself down onto his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue pressing inside of you. His nose grinding into your clit.

“Mm, fuck. Ed… just like that.”

He makes your hips grind into his face, causing pleasure to erupt throughout your body.

You look down at him, eyes connecting with his as you grab at his soft blonde locks. Ed moves to your clit, sucking and lapping at the sensitive nub.

Your moans are like honey to Edward, sweet and gentle. He feels himself grow hard again. He didn’t mean to but— fuck you taste so good, so sweet, and your noises, and the way you look right now— he couldn’t help himself.

“Eddie… baby… I’m so close.”

He almost misses it, too lost in thought. Almost.

He slows his pace, pressing his tongue flat against your clit and working it up and down. Even strokes bringing you close to your release but not fast enough.

You take it into your own hands, grinding down onto his face and getting the force you desperately crave.

The knot in your stomach tightens and pulls until you believe it truly can’t anymore.

You tug on Ed’s hair, pulling out a moan from his throat. That’s what draws the rope in you taught. Releasing on Eddie’s face, squeezing his head with your thighs as you cum, shaking.

He laps it up, devouring your climax and anything left. Fuck you taste so fucking sweet.

You huff and pull yourself off of him. Eddie is smiling hard, satisfied with your pleasure from him. You land beside him, turning your head to Ed and matching his smile.

You kiss him, tasting yourself. He leans his full body into you. “Are you hard again?” He looks ashamed of himself.

“C’mere,” you tug him on top of you, letting Edward prop himself up on his elbows before he slides into you.

“It’s gonna be a long night, huh?” You giggle and Eddie smiles back at you.

“I sure hope so.”

━━━━ ✭˚ ? >

You wake beside Edward, smiling as you tighten your grip around his torso. You run circles on his skin as your mind wonders.

This was so wrong. You’d just knowingly slept with a man who committed murder. He killed a man. And he was unfazed. If it’s all so bad… why don’t you actually feel bad about it?

He’s so sweet. And he loves you, that much you know. He’s willing to do anything to keep you safe. You love him too. Nothing should get in the way of that. And Michael? That sex-trafficking, abusive asshole deserved it. He had it coming.

Thank y’all for reading !! Had a lot of fun w this one but please remember that I condone none of these actions and it’s purely fantasy!

proofread and editorial help by: @spidey-multi

#ed nashton #eddie nashton #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #Ed Nashton x reader #edward nygma #ed nygma #edward nygma x reader #ed nygma x reader #the riddler #the riddler x reader #riddler #riddler x reader #Paul dano #paul dano riddler #paul dano x reader #paul dano riddler x reader #the batman 2022 #edward

[ricflairdrip20]

Requested by: @the-tales-of-ren

————————————————————————

“Are you ok?” - (David Wallace x Reader)

You were sitting in David’s office eating some pasta that he ordered for the both of you.

Ever since David invited you to have lunch with you, you’ve been eating at his office almost everyday. Even if he hadn’t invited you, you were always more than welcome, unless he’s having lunch with his fellow higher-ups. While you two are together, you talk as if you were long time friends. Because you are, for a few months since you’ve been working at Dunder Mifflin corporate as an accountant. David is the number one reason you always looked forward to coming to work. Although you like your co-workers, it’s David you like the most. Like, really like him.

You quietly ate your pasta, deep in thoughts.

Although you had a good childhood, you didn’t have the best teenage years, or college years. For years, you were the subject of abuse amongst your classmates, mostly mentally and verbally. Despite issuing numerous reports to the staff, there were no actions taken. The students weren’t held accountable for their behavior toward you, which is very stupid, given the school claimed they have a zero tolerance policy about this stuff. You truly do not understand how an education institution turned a blind eye away from something they claimed to be against.

You didn’t realize David was calling you until he called you a third time, finally getting your attention.

“I’m sorry, what?” You were almost embarrassed that you were spaced out.

“Are you okay?” David asked concernedly.

“Oh… yeah,” you hesitated while nodding, doing a not so stellar job at convincing David that you were.

“Doesn’t seem like you are,” he said with a knowing look on his face.

You stared at him for a few seconds, mentally debating on whether to share what’s been bothering you. You decided to share only the surface.

“Well, it’s just some stuff that happened when I was growing up,” you waved your arms dismissively, but to David, the subject was too much a cause for concern.

“What happened?” he asked as he leaned closer.

“Um, well, just some kids that were harassing me, and teachers not doing anything about it,” you replied, looking down. When you looked up, you saw a mixture of sad and disappointed look on his face.

“But, uh, if you want to know more about it, I’ll tell you. But not here,” you continued. David nodded in understanding.

“(Y/N), I want you to know that I’ll always be here if you want to talk. I’ll never judge you, okay? I’m always here for you,” he replied and you smiled widely. The way he said it brings such comfort to you and you couldn’t be more grateful for someone like David.

#the office #david wallace #david wallace x reader

[neopuppy]

I went to the Dallas show too and everyone I talked to said the GA situation was mess. I had seated tickets so it wasn't that bad for my friend and I, but our friend in GA said the line/fast pass situation was insane.

I was so ready to be bias wrecked by renjun but jaemin just wouldn't let it happen

I high-key want to see the dreamies again

MANNNNNNN i wont get into it abt the line drama too much, idc what they venue said either it was 1000% their fault. As someone who was raised by armys to smarten up abt how kpop works when I first got into it I rly never wanted to do a GA crowd again after how wings tour went down💀😅 but 7dream……

the whole everyone show up at the same time to get in line without any staff to handle how it goes is the venues fault, they were letting people get crushed, smothered and injured just bc we’re “kpop stans and the worst fandom they have ever had to deal with.” and then going on twitter to make fun of us 💀 also idc what anyone says there are a group of 20-30 foreign girls cutting lines at every stop and will not allow anyone to talk to them rationally. There are also about 15-20 American fans doing the same thing- thinking they control front of the line and saying the most ridiculous shit…..unfortunately most of them are Haechan stans too. They make it harder for the rest of us bc they were acting crazy as fuck, everyone else I met was pretty normal and calm😭 but those people were rly insane and staking out the venue by hiding in bushes/trees and piles of dirt the nights before. GA crowds need to be abolished bc some of these people are just abnormal.

idk I have been to well over 50 kpop concerts and ykw, Dreamzens are the worst. like, hands down the worst fandom experiences I have had irl have been in Neo City, they rly do have some of THE worst sasaengs I have ever encountered and it’s not limited to Asian fans, a ton of Western fans have adapted that behavior. It’s rly weird and sad to see.

BUT!!!!! None of that can deter from how fun and amazing the concert was oh my god I love them so much I almost cried a few times I’m ngl, like I’m not that person but NCT Dream mean a lot to me(despite how awful the fandom is, online AND irl), I heavily deep-dived Dream during the pandemic/lockdown and they in many ways became my safe space throughout the mental strain covid put me through(and still does). Their music and them in general bring me more comfort than I realized, like finally getting to see them all together felt idk….. I felt happy again, like my heart was full. It was so nice, I’m crying just thinking abt it, I love them so much bfjwixidcn.

I have really been getting over kpop and very disheartened with it ever since lockdown restrictions have been lifted(even prior bc the way kpop was moving during the pandemic made me pull back big time). Concert etiquette is lost, younger/new generation fans are the most disrespectful and entitled pieces of shit literally ruining the fun, and people are more insane than ever……like I cannot handle this culture of newer fans that truly believe they will become y/n and get an NDA by acting like a wild animal and holding up not only stupid signs but also crossing lines between fan/artists.

There are more problems in this fandom beyond Judy(iykyk) for example, but the fact that people enable her delusion by saying she is pretty and they aren’t doing much to shove her away. SHE READS MY JENO FICS LIKE THE REST OF Y’ALL……. She is not fucking anyone in NCT and its sick how even the fandom has no respect for these artists as human beings

Like I have traveled for many concerts now, and it is 1000% extremely easy to not stalk or ‘conveniently’ show up at the same place as kpop idols. People with the same flights/hotel/at the same restaurant/off-schedule events etc etc are going out of their way to harass these idols.

The whole experience of being a kpop fan is an everyday struggle for me bc on one hand I love these artists for their work and talent so much, on the other hand being associated with fans who act like wild animals that were raised by apes is sooooooo humiliating and not in a nice kinky way either.

I keep saying this is my last year with anything kpop idk. I just wanted to see the neos a few more times in concerts bc they rly do have the funnest concerts imo, but something rly shifted after lockdown, bitches went too crazy fr. I wanna go back to 2019 when concerts were more abt having fun with your parasocial friends and less abt getting attention lmao. Ok I ranted butttttttt yeah. Asking for kpop stans to act somewhat normal is…..outlandish I suppose.

Hopefully the next time I see the Dreamies will be more pleasant! I know this arena is much safer and more prepared for kpop stans bc they handled enhypen’s crowd rly well when I saw them there. Either way I’m going to have fun! Hope everyone stays safe💚

#asks #not putting a read more cut bc I said what I said #the things people have been doing this tour is down right EMBARRASSING

[smallestapplin]

A nsfw idea: emmet and ingo's(separately) s/o harassing their boyfriend by calling out to them during a busy work week, only to give them a deep, passionate and over the top kiss(I'm thinking dipping, jumping in their arms, pulling a kabedon on them) before quickly escaping every. Single. Day. THOUGHTS? :D

and prayers bestie, cause you’re gonna need it.

Asks are open

🔞18+🔞

-

-

🔲Ingo🔲

- A busy work week will never stop you from torturing your poor sweet boyfriend.

- Poor Ingo.

- He can’t always get to his phone when you call so you settle for messages.

- Your lewd messages leave him so red.

- He is a good boss and has some modesty (unlike someone-) and tries to think of literally anything else other than what you’re texting him.

- And when you show up to his work? After all that? He is absolutely down for this but shh.

- You had called out to him just before he got into his office. Holding a bag of lunch for him.

- He thought you were going to spend lunch with him.

- Especially after you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a heated almost sloppy kiss. Pressing your body against his.

- His mind went blank, you two were still in the hallway!

- But you pulled away, handed him his lunch, and left.

- Now surprisingly it took two weeks of this everyday for him to break.

- He would endure the teasing cause he thought you were just being overtly affectionate and didn’t want to pressure you.

- Then he realized no, you were in fact teasing him.

- Ingo never thought of himself as a rough lover.

- But he is about to be.

- It’s a game of cat and mouse between you two at this point.

- He will catch you eventually and it’s at home. (With how loud he is that’s a blessing.)

- He caught you in the kitchen and just proceeds to bend you over the island and fuck you.

- His chest pressed against your back as he jackhammers into you.

- He makes it his mission to make sure you can’t walk after this.

- “S-sensitive! Ingo please!”

- “I’m sure you can give me one more, cum for me one more time.”

- It’s never just one more.

🔳Emmet🔳

- you really like danger, huh.

- You probably get away with this for two days.

- The first day you battles his subway line cause you were board and wanted to mess with your boyfriend

- Which works! And he’s very happy to see you.

- Just before you two get off the subway you pin him against the wall, making sure his hands are to the wall. And kiss him.

- It’s such a sloppy kiss, mostly tongue and you press yourself against him with a subtle grind.

- Then the train doors open and like that were you gone

- Leaving behind a very horny and frustrated Emmet.

- But the second time you tried this on him on a busy day?

- Big mistake.

- You did the same as you day on the train but in the hallway. Which flipped and suddenly you’re in a supplies closet with Emmet’s devious grin.

- He doesn’t help you keep your noises down, in fact he wants you to be loud, let everyone know what you’re doing as punishment.

- Your back to the walls, legs around his waist and arms around his neck, while he grips your hips and thrusts up into with reckless abandon.

- “Aw darling! Listen to you, you sound like a good whore.”

- Emmet likes hearing you.

- Your face buried in his neck trying to be quiet.

- But you’re failing.

- Only getting louder and louder as he continues.

- I hope you don’t mind being fucked stupid and unable to walk.

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokemon ingo x reader #pokemon smut #pokemon ingo #pokémon #pokemon emmet x reader #pokemon emmet

[olderthannetfic]

My current fandom -the one I’m most active and have made actual connections in as opposed to occasionally reblogging and reading some fics when I’m in the mood- is TINY. As in less than 150 ao3 fics in almost a year in tiny. There’s about…20-30 of us on Tumblr. Sometimes I miss being in a bigger fandom with lots of art and something new to read almost everyday but today an author I still follow from an old favorite ship posted something that made me SO grateful for my quiet discourse-free corner were everybody reblogs the same things in waves and we all know each other and chat about a bit of everything because there’s just not enough material to do anything else.

The juggernaut fandom this author’s in right now honestly sounds like a nightmare. A lot of it is on twitter which…yeah, never been so happy I never made an account (we had one troll in my tiny fandom, one, and guess what? It was someone coming from twitter taking screenshots to pearlclutch about shippers and get pats on the back from their equally *shocked* twitter friend’s!). They’re drowning in discourse. The usual pattern of any author who does well getting a target painted on their back for dogpiling and harassment thinly veiled as social justice is alive and well. From what I understand she had a fic get popular quickly, so she found herself targeted before she had time to find friends a decent support network which doubly sucks. I loved her stories and remember her as always fun and kind, it was truly disheartening to hear what she went through.

Fandom for me has always been about connections, when a space is so toxic it eats you up and spits you out before you can even make them what’s the point of sharing your work?

--

[rollercoasterwords]

Heyo so idk if you know but some fanfic authors (specifically in the Marauders community, even more specifically Jegulus authors) here on tumblr are trying to organize a ‘no post november’ where they don’t update their stories or blogs for the month of November in retaliation to the chronic policing about what you can and cannot write in this fandom. You posted an essay a while back that I think about almost everyday, it talked about influencer culture and fan work and it was so well said. I’m just curious on your thoughts on this as I feel like it sort of plays into what you talked about previously.

hi! yes, i have seen stuff about no post november. i feel like i've made my stance on morality policing in fandom spaces pretty clear, but even so i'm probably not the best person to talk about this just because

i am not a jegulus writer atm

i have not faced intense harassment to the level that i know some other writers have

i think it's great to see writers banding together and sticking up for each other, and i fully support that. while i am a little wary about the possible ramifications of situating fanfiction within the dynamics of a consumer economy by framing this as a strike, i think as far as it's being used to show solidarity, it's really cool.

#ask

[lyvm43]

2020 was one of the hardest years of my life and changed me as a person. It was the first year I truly understood that life is short and you need to cherish people and be kind and live like you and or everyone else could die tomorrow. George Floyd was brutally murdered in my neighborhood. On 38th and Chicago. That could’ve been my uncle or any one of my cousins or any one of my friends or the people I grew up with. There is still a memorial for him there and it is now known as George Floyd Square. Then during the protests racists came from their white suburbs and small towns and tried to burn down as much as they could. We are still rebuilding. 2020 was when we felt like white people started to actually believe us for the first time about the racism black people face and that meant EVERYTHING. But I still told people nah we gotta see how they act in a couple years to see if it’s all just an act. And here we are a couple years later and so many are proving that their support and solidarity with black people back then was just a performance. So they could feel better about themselves not because they actually care.

The Palestinian struggle is our struggle. I have seen so many similarities between how Palestinians are treated by Israeli settlers and how black people have been and still are being treated by white people here in the US and in other predominantly white countries. The Jim Crow era in the US is almost identical. All it is is a different side to the same coin.

If you have not shown support for Palestine then you also have shown that you do not support nor truly care about me, my family, and my people. It shows that you would never stand up for me. That you would have never stood up for my people in the past when we were experiencing so much horror at the hands of white people. And that hurts. That is the most heartbreaking thing about it. I’ve heard so many stories from my family of all the racism they’ve dealt with their entire lives. My mom still gets treated poorly by white people when she goes out alone. Even when I’m with her the difference in how I get treated vs her just cause I’m lightskinned. It’s appalling. I’ve had friends constantly be called the n word by groups of white people here. So it’s very crazy to me to have people in my life say they care about me or want to be my friend or want to get to know me but have not shown an ounce of support for Palestine even when it’s as horrible as genocide. I work with only white people who keep calling it a “war” and a “conflict.” They buy starbucks everyday yet in the same moment tell me how much time they spend on tiktok but somehow haven’t seen a single video about all the boycotts?? I work for the government and people started faxing us protest letters and my coworkers have only shown annoyance. And this is after they all see the Palestinian flag I have on my bag that I bring to work everyday. It is so draining to go and work with these people everyday. These are the same people that want to be my friend and want to know everything about me. You can not show “care” for me and not the rest of poc all over the world. It doesn’t work like that. Because we are all facing the same oppressive institutions. We are all fighting against white supremacy. So I encourage all poc to peep the white people in their lives and see if they truly care about you. If they have not uttered one word in support for Palestine, there’s a good chance they don’t.

By now it is clear, and it always has been we just weren’t paying attention, that Israel is evil and full of monsters. It is clear who you should be supporting. Indifference, complacency, and silence are the most dangerous things in the world and it allows poc and minority communities to be harassed, tortured, murdered, and wiped out without any consequences or repercussions. Just because it doesn’t directly affect you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter and that it’s not worth your time or effort. We are all living on this earth together.

I am so scared for them after this 4 day pause ends. What’s going to happen??

I was struggling before this all happened and I’m struggling even more now. I can’t sleep most nights and when I do I have really unsettling dreams, I can’t eat, I cry everyday, my anxiety has been non stop, and I woke up at 4am this morning and had a panic attack.

If I feel like this and I’m not even there nor Palestinian all I can think about is how every single Palestinian is feeling. It’s all so horrendous.

The Palestinian people deserve the whole world and more. Everyday I’m wishing for a free Palestine.

Showing support takes one second of your time.

Free all oppressed people.

[atrophy-fathers-daughter]

Pet peeves about my roommate that literally make me consider ended it

1. Garbage in the sink I swear to fucking god who puts garbage into the sink? It makes me sick. Not only is it in the sink but it’s wet and mixed in with dirty dishes

2. She doesn’t do dishes. I went on a dish strike for 8 days where I did not go anywhere near the kitchen sink because it was so disgusting and she didn’t do dishes once, in EIGHT DAYS.

3. Dirty shoes in the house. Not just I need to grab something I forgot. Dirty shit covered shoes all through the house with no concern of cleaning up

4. Leaving the front door open. Why? Why can’t the door just be fucking closed? I have a cat and I’ve made it so abundantly clear that she can not go outside yet the door remains open every fucking day

5. Not cleaning. She does not clean whatsoever it’s disgusting

6. Complaining about her job. She doesn’t have a ‘real’ job she’s a farmer and I know farmers work they run the country but she literally doesn’t do anything she go outside for 4 hours max just to order other people around

6. Coming in my room uninvited. My room is my one place that I have control, the one place I keep clean. She comes in almost everyday to complain about her fake job and get my room disgusting. Sometimes she just comes in to shake off her dirty barn clothes and then leaves

7. Regularly leaving the stove on. Every other day I come home from work and the fucking stove is on. Is it so goddamn hard to have some fire safety

9 she’s a koreaboo. The absolute worst one I’ve ever seen. I enjoy kpop so I’ve seen saesangs and she’s worse

10. Having opinions like a white man. She’s so far right politically and it’s awful. Her opinions are the only ones that matter and if you disagree you’re wrong

11. Claiming to be asexual then telling me I’m her ‘lesbian pass’ and that I’m her lesbian. I am not a lesbian I’m an agender bisexual being constantly harassed

12. Not being okay with transgender. She has no idea I’m agender or Skye because I simply cannot deal with what would happen after that conversation. Her little brother is trans and as far as she’s concerned he’s dead to her.

13. Not believing in therapy. She’s a literal psychopath. I don’t say that lightly she has murder fantasies regularly and does kill animals‘ just because’ she once killed a cat who just had a kitten because she didn’t like it anymore.

14. Wishing her mom would kill herself because she finds her very annoying. Her mom is severely depressed and has been having an awful time since her accident which was tragic is all I’m going to say about it. She told me this proudly knowing I have tried to kill myself and have been hospitalized because of it.

15. Being against my consumption of recreational drugs. It is legal where I am to smoke weed which I do for medical reasons mostly sometimes I just feel like I need and that’s okay. I’m not an addict not that there is a problem with people who are it’s mostly just an occasional thing. I took up smoking darts because of her even though I do vape it wasn’t enough to deal with her which she is also aware is her doing.

16. Being so incredibly loud all the time. She has one volume and it’s screaming. Her voice is ruined because she’s never used an inside voice. Her hearing is gone because of her own yelling. And every time I’ve brought it up to be quiet she and I quote ‘that’s what you get for living with me’ getting a little excited is okay I get that but yelling at top volume from 8 am to 11 pm is just in called for

17. Treating me like I’m beneath her because she sublets to me. I’m less of a person because she rents out a room to me. Treating me like this is her apartment and I am an unwanted guest. I pay rent and a lot I might add to be in a single room not really allowed to do anything or use the living room. Because that’s hers and I can use it if I don’t change the tv or move anything.

18. Telling me to move out so she can turn my room into a ‘mannequin room’. If you didn’t think she was a psychopath before she wants a room dedicated to mannequins. Not to use just to have there because it would be better than having a human friend.

19. Not letting me have friends over because she doesn’t like them, yet inviting her friends over on a week night to be even louder because she doesn’t care that I have work in the morning

20. Making me take her places. She does not drive anywhere she has a license and car. She’s a terrible driver that shouldn’t be on the roads but that’s not why I have to drive. She just doesn’t like to and thinks is better that I’m a chauffeur. Never has she once paid for gas and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but gas is fucking expensive. Buying me a drink most times when we go out is good enough to her.

21. Hating my style. She hates on what I wear because I’m more punk/ getting into gothic even though her preferred fashion is tech wear which is also alternative fashion. She also hates the mohair I like even though I like kpop we don’t listen to the same groups and has to comment on how bad she thinks what I enjoy is

22. Constantly victimizing herself. She’s a bully and all around bad person who thinks every problem is about her. Her brother who’s trans said she makes him feel like killing himself and she thinks that just him trying to make her feel bad. She’s constantly fishing for compliments to make her self feel better like asking you to tell her she’s not terrible or stupid.

23. Not believing in therapy. She thinks therapy is a joke and seeing a therapist is stupid and makes you week. The only reason I have survived being around her is because I was in intensive therapy for years. The only thing keeping me together is working through my issues with a licensed professional but to be that’s just a joke and a waste of time.

I’ll probably have more but I think that’s all I can handle thinking about for now, thank you for coming to this long winded rant and I’m sorry this is on the Internet

#mental health #sorry for the rant #lgbtq #roomates #illnesses #koreaboo #angry rant #list