#making me rethink my sexuality and shit

[beautifulmysteryisme]

Excuse me, ms girl. Sammmmyy???!?

No regard for my mental health🥵🤯🤯

[vamptastic]

it's just sort of a bummer to grow up somewhere and have literally worked for the city government and know more about the history of your stupid town than anyone else and then be constantly reminded that half of the people here want me to die because of my religion or how i look or whatever other unquantifiable otherness i possess. and if i express this perpetual othering to anybody who has not had to experience it they assume it is all in my head and i am clearly paranoid or begging for attention.

[mintyys-blog]

Hii!! I just wanted to say that you're writing is amazing and I love reading all of ur Mark fics, I wad wondering if you could be able to do some hc abt how the variants would react to Asa!Reader from chainsawman in the panel where she uses her clothes to transform it into a weapon? Then the variants r just caught off guard but are just seamlessly distracted- Keep up the good work! But don't overwork yourself pls take care and drink lots of water.🩷

HEADCANON | variants with asa! reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS: sexual themes

MAIN MARK

The battlefield is chaos—cracked pavement, twisted metal, and chunks of collapsed buildings surround you both. Mark’s hovering mid-air, eyes scanning for the next wave of threats when he hears your voice behind him.

“Stay close. I’m gonna make a weapon.”

Mark turns just in time to see you tug off your jacket.

“Wait, wait, wait—” he says, eyes widening as you whip your arms out of the sleeves and throw it to the ground. “Y/N, what are you—why are you—”

You kneel swiftly, hand planted over the fabric. “I told you. I’m making a weapon.”

And just like that, a glowing light pulses from your palm, crawling through the seams and threads, your jacket morphing and twisting until it reshapes—sharp, glimmering, deadly.

Mark’s mouth opens but no words come out. His face is bright red.

“You—uh—” He stammers, trying not to look directly at you. “You could’ve just—warned me or—kept it on and like—used something else?!”

You glance up, calm and unfazed, hoisting your new blade. “It needed to be something meaningful. My clothes work best.”

“Y-Yeah, I got that,” he mumbles, looking off to the side like he’s suddenly very interested in a broken lamppost.

You take a step forward. “What, are you embarrassed?”

“No!” Mark says too quickly, holding up his hands, then rethinks and covers his eyes. “Okay—yes. Kinda. I just didn’t expect you to start stripping in the middle of a fight. I mean—it’s badass! Totally badass. But also a little… distracting.” You smirk and brush past him, the newly-forged weapon resting against your shoulder. “Try to keep up, Grayson.”

He floats beside you, still red, still flustered, and muttering under his breath. “Can’t believe I blushed in the middle of a fight…”

SINISTER MARK

The fight’s been brutal—fists colliding like thunderclaps, the city below long forgotten. Blood paints your cheek. His knuckles are raw. You’re both breathing hard, standing across from one another on a shattered rooftop.

Sinister Mark grins through bloodied teeth, head cocked slightly to the side like he’s enjoying a private joke.

“You’re good,” he pants, voice low and teasing. “Better than I expected. But you’re slowing down.”

You say nothing. Just pull in a steady breath, eyes burning into him like coals.

Then you start unbuttoning your shirt.

He freezes.

“…Is this your way of surrender?”

You don’t answer. The air shifts—thick, heavy with tension. Sinister Mark watches your fingers work down the buttons with cool precision, each movement deliberate. Too smooth. Too calm.

His grin falters. “You know, if this is some ploy to throw me off—” He gestures lazily toward you with one hand. “—I gotta say, it’s working. I’m officially thrown.”

You drop the shirt.

Then you move. One hand slaps onto the fabric at your feet, and a pulse of supernatural energy rushes through the threads. The shirt writhes—glowing, contorting—and suddenly it’s not fabric anymore, it’s a weapon. Gleaming. Sharpened. Alive.

Mark blinks once.

Then a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, dark and intrigued. “Well… shit.”

You lunge, blade aimed for his neck. He jerks back, barely avoiding the strike as concrete explodes behind him.

“You turned your clothes into a weapon?” he says between dodges, a note of twisted admiration in his tone. “That’s the most reckless, insane thing I’ve seen today. I love it.”

Another swing. He ducks, grabs your wrist—but you’re faster, kicking off his chest and flipping back onto your feet. “I don’t surrender,” you say coldly. “I make others surrender.”

Mark’s tongue slides across his teeth. His eyes gleam. “I’m so glad I didn’t kill you earlier.”

MOHAWK MARK

“You seriously wanna square up with me?” Mohawk Mark cracks his neck, floating a few feet off the ground. “I ain’t gonna hold back just ‘cause you’re cute, y’know.”

You don’t respond. Your hands reach for the hem of your top layer—cool, calm, confident.

He raises a brow. “Uhhh… what are you doing?”

One arm slips out of a sleeve. Then the other. You toss the jacket to the ground with a soft fwump.

Mark’s eyes follow the motion. His smirk twitches.

“Wait—hold on—are we about to fight, or are you undressing to distract me?” He pauses, sincerely confused. “Not that I’m complaining, just—like—is this a thing? Am I supposed to do it too?”

He actually glances down at his own shirt.

You crouch, pressing your palm against the discarded garment. A ripple of light floods through it, and in seconds, the fabric morphs—twisting, stretching, forming a monstrous bladed weapon with jagged teeth and pulsing energy.

“…Oh.”

He stares.

Then bursts out laughing. “YO. Okay, that’s hard as hell—never mind what I said.”

You rise, weapon in hand, silent as ever. Your stance is steady. Deadly.

Mark runs a hand down his face, still chuckling, eyes a little wide. “Here I was thinking you were tryna get flirty, and you were just cooking up some anime-level transformation on me.”

He floats back, arms raised in mock surrender. “Alright, alright—you got it. You win the ‘most dramatic way to start a fight’ award. Hands down.”

He grins again, sharper this time, muscles tensing as he enters stance. “But if your shirt turns into a sword, then I gotta know what your pants do.”

You dash toward him. “Worth a shot!” he yells, laughing as he dodges the first strike.

OMNI MARK

The sky’s split open behind you—battle smoke choking the air. Debris floats like ash, the city below a graveyard of cracked steel and fallen towers.

Across from you hovers Omni Mark—arms crossed, cape torn, eyes narrowed. He watches you coldly, expression unreadable. Like a god surveying a gnat.

“You’re wasting time,” he says flatly. “Whatever trick you’re stalling with—it won’t save you.”

You exhale slowly. Then, without a word, you start to remove your coat.

His brow twitches.

“…What are you doing.”

One sleeve slips off your shoulder. Then the other.

He blinks once. His lip curls faintly. “…Is this a distraction? Are you trying to seduce me?”

You don’t answer. You drop the fabric at your feet and crouch, fingers pressed against it. It begins to pulse—light crawling like veins across the cloth.

Omni Mark’s eyes track it warily, and for the first time in the entire fight… he looks mildly unnerved.

The jacket convulses, glows—and transforms. Twisting steel-like threads sharpen into a brutal halberd, humming with power.

You rise slowly, weapon in hand. Calm. Composed.

Omni Mark tilts his head back slightly, staring down at you with a look that lands somewhere between disgust and irritation. Like you just did something deeply uncultured in front of royalty.

“I’ve fought gods,” he mutters, voice dark and slow. “And none of them ever needed to strip to be dangerous.”

His tone is laced with disdain. Not at your power. Not even your weapon. But the aesthetic choice of your transformation. You take one step forward. He doesn’t move. “If you take off anything else,” he warns in a flat monotone, “I will leave.”

VILTRUMITE MARK

The silence between you is razor-thin.

Blood drips from your lip. His knuckles are bruised and smoking. You both hover high above the wreckage of the city—everything stilled, for one breathless moment.

You stare him down. No words. No smirks.

Then your hands reach for your coat.

Viltrumite Mark’s eyes narrow. His muscles flex instinctively, ready for a feint, a blast, a sneak attack—

But instead… You peel it off and let it drop. His expression shifts ever so slightly. A barely-there twitch in his brow. His jaw tightens. “…What are you doing?” he asks, voice quiet. Controlled.

You step toward the coat, kneeling.

His gaze sharpens, but there’s something else behind his glare now. Suspicion. Distrust. Confusion.

“Are you trying to distract me?” he says, tone laced with accusation. “Trying to seduce me into dropping my guard?”

You don’t respond.

“I’m not like human men,” he continues coldly, eyes locked on yours. “Sexual gratification doesn’t affect me. I’m trained. Conditioned. Distractions like this—”

Your hand hits the cloth.

A sharp crack of light explodes outward. The fabric twitches and groans, twisting into a gleaming, monstrous blade that pulses with your will.

Viltrumite Mark goes completely still.

The words die in his throat.

“…Ah.”

For the first time in this fight, he’s speechless. His eyes dart from the weapon to your bare arms, then back to the weapon. You rise slowly, weapon resting on your shoulder, looking entirely unfazed.

“I wasn’t seducing you,” you say. “I was building a weapon.”

He doesn’t respond right away. His hands curl into fists, eyes unreadable now—somewhere between tactical recalculation and a flicker of something else.

“…Then next time,” he finally says, voice rougher than before, “say something first.”

You smirk, stepping forward. “Wouldn’t be as effective.”

He exhales harshly through his nose. His cape snaps behind him as he charges again, this time faster—but just barely missing the pink in his ears.

FULL MASK MARK

You’re both knee-deep in a cratered street, surrounded by rubble and the scent of burning ozone. The battle’s taken a turn—too many enemies, not enough time.

Full Mask Mark lands beside you hard, his boots cracking the pavement. He turns his head, masked visor glinting in the smoky dusk.

“You’re hurt,” he mutters. “You need backup.”

“I’m fine,” you reply. “I just need a stronger weapon.”

Then, without another word, you start unbuttoning your shirt.

Mark doesn’t move, but his entire presence shifts.

“…You’re stripping. Why.”

His voice is low, but there’s a definite hitch in it—confusion with a hint of something else buried underneath.

You kneel and press your hand to the cloth.

“No, seriously,” he says again, sharper this time. “Why are you taking your clothes off?”

The ground trembles as your jacket pulses, threads shifting into a jagged, curved blade bristling with otherworldly energy. The weapon rises in your grip, born from the familiar fabric.

Mark freezes for half a beat. His fists clench.

“…That’s not how weapons are supposed to work,” he mutters.

You shrug. “It works for me.”

There’s a pause. His head tilts slightly—like he’s trying to figure out if he should be impressed or mad. Then he steps forward, fast, close, the metal of his mask inches from your face.

“If you ever do that again,” he growls, “warn me first.”

“Why?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He doesn’t answer. Just turns, storms back into battle, shoulders stiff.

But as he moves, you swear you hear him mutter under his breath:

“Freakin’ power-stripping… insane…” And later, when he helps you up from a wrecked building, he casually throws a blanket around your shoulders without saying anything.

MASKLESS MARK

The air is thick with smoke and tension—sirens wailing in the distance, wind howling through the broken skeletons of buildings. You’re both standing over a pile of corpses. His knuckles are wet with blood. Yours are shaking from fatigue.

Maskless Mark’s eyes flick lazily toward you, hair wild and face spattered with crimson. “You look like shit,” he says with a grin.

You ignore the jab. “I’m making a weapon.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, voice loose and low, a little too casual for the scene. “What’re you gonna use—pipe? Bone? Piece of that guy’s spine?” He jerks a thumb toward the mangled body behind you.

Instead, you reach for your shirt.

He goes still.

You pull it off without fanfare, dropping it in the bloodied dirt. Then you crouch and press your hand to it, aura flaring bright.

Mark watches the glow spread.

The fabric shifts, convulses, then solidifies into a warped and serrated war-scythe.

“…Huh.”

You grip the handle, rising smoothly. “Let’s go.”

But he doesn’t move.

Instead, he stares. Sharp eyes raking over your weapon, then your form, then the place where the shirt used to be.

Then his head tilts.

“…Do that again.”

You blink. “What?”

“That. Strip. And make a weapon out of it.”

His voice is dark now, grating—hungry.

“I wanna see what else you can turn into something deadly.”

You narrow your eyes. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” he says, stepping closer. There’s blood on his lip. “I think it’s hot. And terrifying. Which means I like it.”

You raise the scythe in warning. He just grins wider. “I really like it.”

PRISONER MARK

The ruins echo with your footfalls—ash curling in the air, the two of you surrounded by the aftermath of something explosive and violent. Prisoner Mark, shirt torn and chain scars still red around his wrists, leans against a cracked slab of concrete.

He’s panting. Bleeding. Still smiling. “I like your style,” he grunts, voice scratchy. “You hit harder than I expected.” You roll your shoulders and start peeling off your jacket. His brows rise. “…Well I’ve never had a woman strip for me before.”

There’s a teasing lift to his voice, but also a genuine note of surprise—like he’s half-convinced you’re flirting and half-convinced you’ve finally gone crazy from radiation exposure like him. Then you crouch, palm flat against the fabric.

The glow erupts instantly—cloth twisting, mutating, pulsing with energy as it reshapes into a brutal weapon. A massive blade, jagged and gleaming, forged from nothing but what you wore. Prisoner Mark blinks. Then blinks again. “Ah,” he says slowly, pushing off the concrete and dragging a hand through his messy hair. “That makes a lot more sense.”

You hoist the weapon and look at him expectantly. “Still want to flirt?” He shrugs, a grin tugging at the corner of his busted lip. “I mean, I’m flattered either way.”

You shake your head and start walking past him, weapon balanced on your shoulder. He stares after you, then mutters to himself, amused: “She took her clothes off and made a sword out of it. Yep. Definitely my type.”

EMPIRE/TARGET! MARK

He’s standing above you on a floating slab of debris—hands behind his back, the viltrumite insignia glinting in the scorched sunlight. Mark watches you with the detached amusement of a man who thinks he’s already won.

“You came all this way just to die?” he asks. “Admirable. If not predictable.”

You don’t speak. You slip off your overshirt and let it fall to the concrete. He blinks once, then lets out a low, amused hum. “…I already have enough wives,” he says, voice smooth as polished steel, “but I wouldn’t mind taking you as well.”

You don’t look at him. You kneel and press your hand to the fallen garment. A golden ripple lights the air, twisting the fabric into a vicious blade with harsh curves and a growling hum.

Mark goes quiet.

His expression shifts—only slightly—but enough.

“…Oh,” he says, now descending to your level, eyes sharp and curious. “You weren’t stripping for me.”

The weapon hums in your grip as you rise.

“You’re not the only one who commands power,” you reply.

He smirks, watching you with something keener than lust now—interest. Amusement. Respect, maybe. The kind you give to a worthy adversary. Or a future queen.

“I see,” he murmurs, circling you like a serpent. “You make war with your clothing. How… poetic.”

He stops just behind you, voice low, breath warm at your ear.

“Still,” he adds, “if you ever decide you’d like to rule at my side, I will make room in the palace.”

You swing the weapon without warning.

He dodges, still smiling.

“Feisty,” he purrs. “You’ll fit right in.”

[sansaorgana]

maybe i’ve been watching too much GOT/HOTD shit but…tttw au where reader decides to seduce paul into p much being her servant (kinda like what cersei did to jaime except she still does actually care for him a bit). and lady jessica pushes for the marriage between reader and feyd to get her away from paul. i just feel like that’d make the fight between feyd and paul just that much more personal 🫢

THROWN TO THE WOLVES MASTERLIST

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hello! I hope you still remember my multichapter fic 🥴 It's been a long time but I needed a break from it to create other stories and finally it's time for me to write the requests that were about this universe. For the start I went with this twisted AU and be warned because I have abandoned all my moral compass while writing it lol 😳🙈 I mostly explored the dynamic between the characters here and I don't think you have to know "Thrown To The Wolves" to read this story but it surely will make more sense if you do! 😊 Also, since it's an AU – and a wicked one as well – I didn't tag anyone from this fic's taglist. I also didn't tag anyone from the Feyd-Rautha's taglist because it's an AU of already existing fic that not everyone has read, so... I didn't want to bother anyone 😅

WARNINGS — INCEST, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), Reader is NOT a good person (as we already know... but she's even worse here)

WORD COUNT — 5,380

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

Watching your half-brother train, you only pretended to read a book in front of you. You couldn’t focus on the words because you were still rethinking the argument you had with your father earlier. Now, when Paul was officially an adult, Duke Leto Atreides signed a document that only solidified your brother as the heir and the next Duke.

He might not have been from a legal union like you were, but he was a boy. However, you had a feeling it was about more than that. After all, if your father wanted to change the law and allow women to inherit, he would do that. No, it was about Paul being his favourite. It was about Paul being prepared for this role from the moment he was born. It was about Paul being born from a woman that your father truly loved. Unlike your mother whose cold grave you had visited earlier that day. You were the only one visiting her.

To think that you were supposed to be born a boy. Paul was supposed to be a girl. Yet, the cruel universe played a joke at your expense. And now you were a burden of the Atreides family instead of an heir. Unless…

The book you were reading was a history one, telling stories of ancient times and the ways of the noblemen in the past. It mentioned gross and yet fascinating acts of the forgotten practices to keep the royal bloodlines pure. Incestous relationships between cousins… and even siblings. At first, reading the book late at night in your room, you had felt disgust at the mention of a sister-wife. But now, watching Paul training and reliving an argument with your father, you began having second thoughts.

The only way of getting the title of The Atreides Duchess would be to marry Paul. And he was of gentle, soft nature. He was not only devoted to you in his brotherly, naive love but also innocently easy to manipulate. You had done that multiple times before already; making him take blame for something you did or do something for you that you didn’t feel like doing yourself.

Would he be easy to seduce, though? You wondered, trying to shake off a small wave of guilt and disgust at the thought. You had to be stronger than your moral compass to survive. You knew already that Lady Jessica was plotting behind your father’s back to send you away, to marry you off to some awful, insignificant lord and get rid of you. Seducing Paul was your only way of staying at home and of getting the power you wanted.

To have an apple and eat an apple, you thought, biting on your lower lip.

Paul was inexperienced with women. Not that you were very experienced with men yourself but you were observant and interested in the subject. You studied books, interactions, gossip. Paul was not interested in such affairs at all. His whole life was studying and training, being moody and sad about his future role of the Duke.

Oh, the irony. He didn’t even want to bear this title that you so badly craved.

You closed the book loudly, startling him a little and getting his attention. He raised an eyebrow at you but you only smirked and gathered your things to go back inside.

At the supper table, you were acting moody and annoyed. You watched from the corner of your eye how it was catching Paul’s interest. When you excused yourself in the middle of the meal and left, visibly pissed at something, it didn’t take him long to follow you.

“Sister, wait,” he called for you in the corridor when you were near the doors leading to your chambers. “What is it? Talk to me,” he pleaded and grabbed your arm from behind.

“Oh, sweet Paul,” you smiled and turned around to face his confused face. He was sweet indeed. And he was a pretty boy, which you hadn’t been thinking of before for obvious reasons. But it wouldn’t be that difficult to force yourself to kiss him and lay with him. “You’re so adorable for worrying about me,” you sighed. “You’re the only one here who cares for me.”

“That is not true, (Y/N), you know that,” Paul fixed a hair strand on your face to push it off of your cheek. “Our father loves you and my mother… She cares about you, too. In her own way. I know that.”

“Your mother?” You snorted, looking up to meet his worried gaze. “She’s plotting already, don’t you know? She wants to marry me off and… And you as well,” you lied, looking away and pretending to get all shy.

“What?” Paul furrowed his brows as he let go of your arm. He was shocked to hear your revelation. “Am I not too young to get married? I mean, I know I could but… Shouldn’t I get older and wiser and…”

“I know,” you interrupted him and looked back into his pretty hazel eyes. “But what can I say? They want you to have a future Duchess already, so she can come here and be trained how to be a great leader one day by your side… To replace me…” You faked a shiver of your voice. “That was the reason behind my argument with our father. What did he tell you?” You bit on your lower lip.

“That…” Paul swallowed thickly, not wanting to anger you or offend you, “That… That you are angry about me inheriting. I wanted us to talk about it, actually. I wanted to explain to you that it is not my wish. I would love to give the title to you. I do not wish to rule,” Paul assured you and took you by your hands.

All those sweet, gentle gestures that you had been giving no second thoughts until now since they were innocent. But now, you savoured each one of them, coming up with ideas how to use them against him.

“He lied,” you sighed and looked down, sadly. You felt a small sting in your heart but you had to ignore it. “The argument was about me not wanting to leave Caladan… Not wanting to leave my home and my family. I don’t want to be sent away… I will miss you, you’re all I have,” you faked a sob and hugged him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck so he couldn’t see how fake your crying was. You sniffed a few times to make it more authentic.

Paul was surprised and a little petrified. However, he put his arms around you to pull you closer and rub your back.

“Oh, sweet (Y/N), my dear sister… I won’t let them send you away if you don’t want to… And not to anyone you wouldn’t desire yourself,” he assured you.

“I don’t want you to get married yet either… I… I…” You were looking for the right words as you took a step back to look at him again, faking a shivering lip and glossy eyes by blinking a lot. “I wish we were children again. Just you and I, always together. I don’t want anyone to ever come between us.”

“No one will come between us, (Y/N),” Paul squeezed your fingers. “I promise you that. You’re my sister, you forever will be. I love you,” he nodded and gave you puppy eyes.

“You… You don’t understand,” you pulled away and opened the doors to your room. “Go away, I shouldn’t be near you,” you took a deep and dramatic breath in. “It’s bad for me, I… Oh, I shouldn’t tell,” you sighed and walked inside your room, hoping your weird reaction would intrigue him.

And indeed, Paul followed you inside. He caught you by your wrist and made you stop as the doors closed behind him. You had him trapped between the wall and your body even though he was the one holding your hand. But his grip was gentle as usual.

“I don’t understand, (Y/N). Please, what’s wrong? I hate to see you like this,” he was worried and desperate to help you. You bit on your lip and smirked, changing the atmosphere quickly as you took a step ahead and got free from the grip of his hand.

Taking a step ahead, you forced him to retreat and his back hit the wall. Your faces were inches away and you batted your eyelashes innocently as you stared at his lips hungrily.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Paul swallowed thickly.

“You wanted to know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered seductively. “It’s a sinful disease, Paul, and believe me, I’ve tried to get rid of it but I can’t. You’re all I can think about,” your words were so soft and quiet, almost inaudible, for his ears only.

“We…We shouldn’t… “Paul whimpered pathetically. However, he didn’t even try to push you away. You raised an eyebrow at him, genuinely surprised at the lack of more definitive reaction.

“So, you want me to stop? Tell me then, sweet brother. I don’t want to hurt you,” you assured him and caressed his cheek with the fingertips of your right hand. He closed his eyelids and breathed in your scent. “Want me to stop?” You repeated the question teasingly.

Paul didn’t dare to say it out loud. He only shook his head as a no.

You had expected this task to be easy but you didn’t suspect it to be that easy. When you pressed your body closer to his, you felt how hard he was between his legs. Poor sweet Paul, so desperate for any girl’s attention, so inexperienced. He would really let his own sister take care of him. You chuckled and finally joined your lips together in a gentle kiss, not wanting to scare him away.

It was your first kiss, too, after all. And, for some reason, you really liked it. You liked that your first kiss belonged to your own brother, to your own flesh and blood. Even if Lady Jessica sends you away one day to marry another man, he would never possess you with his first marriage kiss for your own brother had the honour.

“I know you love your mother,” you whispered after breaking the kiss. Paul’s cheeks were flushed, his lips parted. He opened his eyelids slowly, looking at you in awe. It was adorable. “But she hates me,” you reminded him. “You must change her attitude towards me, you know. You don’t want them to send me away, don’t you? Who else is gonna kiss you so sweetly when I’m away?”

“I… I must leave now,” Paul swallowed thickly and pushed you away before running out of the room.

It left you confused but you knew that your confusion was no match with his. He was turned on and scared, he needed alone time. So, you gave him that and went to sleep yourself, a little anxious but also excited since the plan seemed to be working better than you had been expecting.

At first, Paul was ignoring you. Shyly looking away, blushing like crazy, avoiding your gaze. But you were relentless, always around him, talking to him with other people around, forcing him to answer and look at you. Eating by the same table, you would find moments when no one paid attention so you could treat yourself with fruit and honey in the most seductive manner while looking into his eyes. And you made sure to touch him briefly every time you walked past him. The poor boy was in physical and mental torture, you could see that and you only waited for him to snap.

You began to wear more revealing dresses and show off your body. But everything changed on the day you walked inside his bathroom, pretending it was an accident. He was in the bathtub, you just wanted to borrow a towel – a stupid and unbelievable excuse.

However, you didn’t walk in on him relaxing or taking a nap in the embrace of  warm water, no. You walked in on him being busy with himself with his lips parted, head thrown back and eyes shut close. The name he was moaning out loud was yours.

Gently, not wanting to startle him, you helped him to finish. And even though at first he was terrified of you seeing him like that he quickly gave in, too desperate to have any shame left in his body.

That act sealed your sinful union. He finally gave in to the ill-natured attraction and began to follow you around like the most loyal servant. And whenever you were left alone, he was like an overexcited puppy, wanting to kiss and be kissed, wanting to touch and be touched. Just in case – aware of the norms noble women were supposed to live by – you didn’t allow him to actually spoil your innocence. But everything else was allowed.

You were not only pleased with your seductive skills and the fact you had the future Duke wrapped around your little finger. Some twisted, wicked part of you was also happy from the fact that you managed to spoil your father’s favourite child; his little precious toy was broken now. Paul Atreides was rotten forever now. There was no going back from such sin.

You were damned already anyway. But it felt nice to drag someone down with you just for the sake of annoying your father and Lady Jessica.

Your own pride made you less attentive and careful, meanwhile Paul’s mother was very observant when it came to her son. He was the apple of her eye. She knew that his relationship with you had always been close but she noticed the sudden odd mood swings of Paul. First, he avoided you nearly shyly, only to follow you around even more than ever before again? You two had always been hugging sometimes, sharing an innocent kiss here and there but now Lady Jessica felt like it was getting more and more often for you to share affections. And she felt bad for suspecting a weirdly sexual energy behind those acts but after some time she stopped feeling guilty as she realised something had been going on behind her back indeed.

One time she decided to follow her son who went straight to your chambers after the training. Her footsteps were light and quiet, she took her time and gave you an opportunity to develop the situation. She pressed her ear to the doors and heard soft moans, sweet praises. Even though she had been suspecting it, she still felt shocked and disgusted to find out the truth.

Your heart stopped in your chest as the doors were pushed open and you spotted Lady Jessica catching you kissing her son. His cheeks went crimson red in an instant.

“Mother…” He swallowed thickly, standing up and clasping his hands in front of himself, trying to hide his erection.

Lady Jessica was speechless. Her eyes widened at first and then they squinted as she laid them on you.

“You little witch,” she hissed at you. “You twisted, evil minx. What have you done?”

“Me?” You acted innocent but you couldn’t hide a smirk.

Yes, it was scary to be found out. But it gave you satisfaction that she now was aware of how you had spoiled her sweet, precious son.

“Mother, don’t blame her!” Paul sweetly defended you, he was truly adorable. But he was ignored by the both of you. It was between you and her. He was only a tool.

“Have you got any idea what you’ve done?” Lady Jessica asked you harshly.

“What about it?” You asked and clenched your jaw.

What was the worst punishment anyway? You realised suddenly that even being sent away wouldn’t be so bad… The victory of spoiling Paul was the most delicious part of this situation.

“I will not tell your father,” Lady Jessica approached you to put her hands on Paul’s arms to walk him away gently. “For his own sake. He would be devastated. But this will be over. You better start packing,” she gave you a contemptuous look.

“Mother, no!” Paul pleaded. “I love her, I do. Can’t I marry (Y/N)? That’s what our ancestors were doing, why can’t we?”

You chuckled at him. He was so sweetly naive. Lady Jessica slapped his face.

“Stop talking nonsense!” She pushed him out of the room and then gave you one last look. “You look proud of yourself for bewitching my son. I’ll make sure you’ll pay for that.”

“And you’re not proud of bewitching my father?” You asked.

“I will send you to the Harkonnens, you spoiled brat. Their rot matches yours. But good luck with bewitching any of them,” she threatened.

The mention of the Harkonnens made you scared indeed. But you didn’t want to show it. Not in front of her.

But she was right. Wrapping Paul around your finger had been easy. Too easy. Doing the same to a Harkonnen would not.

However, you decided to keep your head high. You would never show fear or defeat in front of Lady Jessica.

Because of Lady Jessica’s words, you treated the marriage with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen like a challenge. With many attempts, you finally managed to tame him and it was your biggest pride.

Now you laughed at the memory of how proud you had been for spoiling Paul. It had been meaningless and too easy. Taming Feyd-Rautha to be your pet made you feel invincible.

Paul had been so naive and innocent that in the beginning of your marriage, he had still been sending you secret letters about his love and devotion. The news of his death had been nearly relieving – there would be no more pathetic, desperate letters, you had thought, while burning the last one.

Your husband knew about your past. Feyd-Rautha loved everything sick, twisted and rotten to the core. You had told him about Paul to impress him and it had worked. You had even allowed him to read some of the letters from Paul before burning them.

Finding out that Paul was alive after all, and he had gained power on Arrakis that you and your husband could only dream of, felt like a punch. You could see a switch in Feyd’s behaviour while you waited for the confrontation. He was observing you quietly and battling with his own thoughts. Feyd-Rautha had never been insecure before. But now he had a feeling you might still feel attraction to Paul Atreides. Especially now, when Paul was a powerful leader, too. After all, what spurred you on the most was power and influence.

What would Paul do seeing you again? You both wondered silently, without sharing your thoughts with each other. Would he want you back or would he toss you aside? Feyd feared that Paul still wanted you. You hoped he would. It would provide you safety no matter what outcome of that day would be.

Not that you didn’t love Feyd-Rautha. In the process of taming him, you had found yourself enamoured with him. You were two halves of the same rotten apple. But the most important thing for you was your own survival. Your own and the child’s under your heart.

The guards took you and other prisoners of the Arrakeen Palace to see the mysterious Muad’Dib but you all had already known who he truly was. The Reverend Mother, Princess Irulan and you – all the women amongst the prisoners – had known it for sure that the brave Fremen leader had to be an Atreides. You shared a connection with Paul, you were of the same father, the same surname, the same blood, the same flesh… Each other’s first lovers.

He looked different now; more mature. His hair was longer and curly instead of being neatly combed. His eyes were harsher and blue from the spice. You were nearly petrified at the sight of him because he… He looked handsome and attractive. You suddenly remembered all the shared kisses and affections and it made your cheeks burn.

“There you are, sweet sister,” Paul’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you. “I’ve been missing you,” he pointed out but you could spot harsh irony in his words.

From the corner of your eye you spotted Lady Jessica. Her power and influence had grown as well those past few months. She was a local Reverend Mother with her face covered under veils, chains and tattoos. She looked like the most intimidating and the most powerful person in the room. She probably was, even though you were standing next to The Emperor himself.

Lady Jessica had to already turn Paul against you. She had to tell him that you had been doing nothing but manipulating him for your own gain. You suddenly realised that you were in deep trouble and you instinctively searched for Feyd-Rautha’s hand to squeeze it. He was your husband, the father of your child, your perfect match made in hell. You had to keep him close, stay with him. Paul was never an option after all. He had been nothing but a game.

“Brother,” you greeted Paul with a nod of your head. “I thought you were dead.”

“You hoped,” Paul fixed you with a smirk.

“No,” you only answered.

“Come here,” he ordered. You felt the eyes of everyone watching intensely, wondering what was really going on. After all, the only people who knew about your unusual connection were Lady Jessica and Feyd-Rautha. Although you were suspecting that the Reverend Mother knew, too.

Feyd’s hand squeezed tighter around yours. He didn’t want you to leave his side. Walking up to Paul meant exposing yourself, you could be easily harmed. And it was not only about you at the moment. You were carrying the Harkonnen heir. The future Baron was growing under your heart.

“Come here,” Paul repeated the order, more harshly now. You let go of Feyd’s hand and walked away, feeling him move uncomfortably. However, he granted you personal freedom to make your own choices. He only watched carefully, like a guard dog that he was.

“I am here, brother,” you announced, standing right in front of Paul, facing him bravely. One of your hands rested on your abdomen.

“I am wiser now,” he told you. “I know that your intentions with me were never pure nor driven by your uncontrollable desires. You planned it all. Calculated.”

You remained silent, keeping your head high. You only heard the whispers of other people, wondering between each other what the conversation was about.

“And despite that knowledge, I must admit, I remain infatuated,” he confessed. “But you’re spoiled for me now. Your stench is one of the Harkonnens.”

“For I am a Harkonnen,” you nodded.

“Apparently, so am I,” he raised an eyebrow and you furrowed yours.

“How is that so?”

“The Baron… The late Baron,” Paul explained. “The one your husband slayed last night. He was my mother’s father.”

Everyone went silent. Those were two secrets that he had revealed – you didn’t want people to know that it was Feyd killing his uncle.

“You might have the Harkonnen blood flowing in your veins, dear brother, but you are no Harkonnen. You’re weak like an Atreides,” you spat out.

“Me? You, dear sister, you are weak. All your power, all your successes, they all only come from the men you have managed to wrap around your pretty little fingers. But you have achieved nothing yourself,” Paul’s jaw clenched as he reminded you with hatred burning through his eyes. “The only thing you actually did was to open your legs for the Harkonnen and carry his spawn,” Paul looked down at your womb with contempt.

There was so much jealousy in him, you spotted. He was not angry at you for manipulating him. He was angry at you for carrying another man’s child. And there was nothing more dangerous than a rejected lover.

Paul grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away, exposing your swollen abdomen.

“You cannot touch her,” Feyd barked and Paul looked up behind your shoulder to meet your husband’s gaze.

“There he is, my sister’s new pet,” Paul’s words were braver than you expected. No one would dare to speak to Feyd-Rautha like that.

“It’s a nasty thing to be jealous,” your husband spoke. “You see, she is my wife, she lays with me every night. You are nothing but a tossed aside toy who has only been given a taste but never a full meal.”

Paul was right, you suddenly realised. That you held no real power, that it only came from the men you had associated yourself with. Because now they were talking about you as if you were an object.

“Are we here to witness some wicked family drama? Spare me that,” The Emperor’s voice made you all turn your heads to look at him. He was disgusted and annoyed.

“You are here to pay for what you’ve done to our father,” Paul left your side to approach The Emperor and you took the opportunity to hurry back to Feyd. You stood behind him, clinged to his muscular arm, feeling protected by his strong, armoured body.

“Stop your pathetic show, Atreides,” The Emperor smirked. “There is a massed armada in orbit. You’re facing a full invasion.”

“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me? They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think?” Paul asked him. “I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis!”

“He’s a fraud,” Feyd chuckled ironically. “My wife is the Duchess Atreides, I am the Governor of this world.”

“And so it is,” The Emperor nodded. “You’re nothing but a Fremen terrorist.”

“Gurney,” Paul called out the name you recognised. But when you looked at the man, he had no love nor sympathy in his eyes for you. So, you showed none as well.

“My Lord,” Gurney nodded at your brother.

“Send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all the spice fields,” Paul threatened. 

He was a madman now, you thought as Gurney nodded.

“You’re out of your mind,” The Emperor pointed out what everyone was thinking,

“He’s bluffing,” your husband spoke up as you clinged to his arm even tighter. You had a feeling already how this confrontation would end up like. It was either you and Feyd or Paul. There was no other way. And Paul’s behaviour was worrying. You were starting to suspect he had higher chances of winning than you had been predicting.

He wouldn’t kill you. He still cared for you, perhaps he still craved you. He would never be nice to you, but he’d keep you close, of that you were sure. But he would never let your husband or your child live. And that was the moment when you realised that you didn’t only care about your own self.

You cared about Feyd and you cared about your son. Way more than about your life. You’d rather die alongside them than live a few more decades alongside your brother without them.

“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides,” The Reverend Mother warned him.

“Silence!” Paul screamed, using The Voice, startling everyone in the process.

It was no secret that this ability was reserved only for the Bene Gesserit. For the women of the order. A man possessing this knowledge was not only dangerous but also extremely powerful.

You were doomed, you thought, covering your abdomen with one of your hands again. Your unborn son was your only hope. The Reverend Mother had mentioned before that he was out of control. The Harkonnen medics had outdone themselves with their genetic manipulations while helping you to create life. His abilities could interfere with Paul’s.

But it was only an unborn baby with its brain not even yet fully developed. You couldn’t possibly count on him to save you. Right?

“Abomination,” The Reverend Mother muttered to herself.

“Message sent, my Lord,” Gurney announced.

“On what authority was this message sent?” You spoke up again, finally gaining the courage although it was easy to do so when you were still hiding behind Feyd. “I am the Duchess Atreides. The leaders of the Great Houses know that, too. They will not listen to the threats of terrorists!”

“As a servant of the Imperium, you will bow at my feet!” The Emperor snapped. Paul’s behaviour was getting out of control.

“Your feet?! You’ll be lucky to keep your head!” Paul yelled at him and walked up to all of you as he took a contemptuous look at Princess Irulan. “I’ll take the hand of your daughter,” he announced and you swallowed thickly at his plan.

So… He did not want to marry you anymore. Perhaps you wouldn’t be as safe as you had suspected before.

“She will remain safe,” Paul’s voice softened as he spoke. “And we will rule together over The Empire. But you…” he looked at The Emperor again. “You have to answer for my father.”

“Do you know why I killed him?” The Emperor squinted his eyes and despite feeling very detached from your family those past few months, you felt a little sting in your heart at the mention of your father.

You realised that now you were standing by the side of a man who was responsible for his death. What a twisted world you lived in. And what twisted things you had been forced to do to survive.

The Emperor approached Paul now as well, they were facing each other and you had to admit that despite his age, he was a brave man to do that. Everyone claimed he was not in his best shape anymore and that was true but the strength of his mind and spirit was still visible.

“Because he was a man who believed in the rules of the heart. But the heart is not meant to rule,” The Emperor explained. “In other words… your father was a weak man.”

You had this conversation before. With the Baron Harkonnen. Late Baron Harkonnen, you remembered. Now your husband was bearing the title. But yes, a few months earlier, in a dark room, you had this conversation with the Baron. You had agreed with him then. And despite the pain in Paul’s eyes, you had a feeling he was agreeing with this, too.

And Paul agreeing with such a statement could only mean that he no longer wanted to play nice. He had discarded your father’s ways and chose the path of violence.

“You will be defeated and your Empire will be mine,” Paul drawled out through gritted teeth before laying his eyes on you and Feyd. “And the cancer of this Empire that is The Harkonnen dynasty will be erased,” he added. “I will tear your spawn out of her body and take your wife as my concubine,” he told your husband. You felt his muscles tensing.

“The only thing you take, will be your death at the end of my blade,” Feyd warned him and took a step ahead, ignoring the way you were clutching onto his arm, trying to make him stay.

“You don’t even have one on you,” Paul pointed out.

“Then spare me a weapon and stand to fight me like a man,” Feyd dared him.

“Accept mine,” The Emperor offered and you stiffened at the realisation that it was not only the blade he was giving your husband but also the fate of the outcome of this day, the fate of the Empire, the fate of his and his daughter’s life. Feyd nodded and you approached him one last time before the duel.

“Do not fail me,” you pleaded harshly.

“You want these to be the last words you tell your husband before his death?” Feyd teased with a smirk. Fearless as usual; he never feared the end of his life. Not in combat at least. He had told you already that this sort of death was everything he had been wishing for. To die like a warrior.

“No,” you shook your head with a nervous smile. “So make sure they won’t be.”

MASTERLIST

[wonton4rang]

how do u think bnd boys wld act around you when they’re high?

bnd legal line being high or involved in drugs is one of my favorite concepts, oh myyy. plus, most of these came out as smut kinda thingy so yeah 😔

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why'd you only call me when you're high?

pairing: bnd legal line x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, mentions of drugs usage, dirty talk, pet names.

summary: how would bnd legal line act around you when they are high.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sungho; let's go to a parallel world where he might do drugs cause i honestly don't see him into it but yeah. i feel like he would turn into this excessively touchy/ funny guy that would just not know the concept of personal space. he would sit besides you, his hand on your thigh while it went dangerously close to your heat only for him to laugh at your blushed cheeks and kiss your lips to whisper against them "you would look so pretty sucking my dick right now". and it was great, yeah, if the other members were not sitting across the room in the other couch.

riwoo; he goes into subspace and i'm a 100% sure, he would be so lovey dovey and happy, making those awful jokes with a numb tongue before he goes completely quiet. tbh you didn't noticed at first but when you looked for him with your eyes and saw him facing the floor while he played with his fingers, you knew he was wasted. so you just made your way to him, holding his hands and softly kissing his lips, whispering a loving "wanna get out of here, baby?" that only made him excited because he knew what you meant, whenever you looked at him like that he ended up w his dick wrapped by your pussy and his legs shaking and hurting due to the intense sex you gave him. and he quickly forgot anything and everything that was making his head go to places.

jaehyun; myungjae is such an ecstasy boy, damn. he's horny asf 24/7 and when he gets high?? he could even come across as too dirty or pushy because he is making you rethink everything you say when he makes a sexual joke about it, his hands getting freaky on your body, grazing your boobs under that shirt, your thighs and even lifting your skirt a bit so he could go further. but it was all in public so you would tell him to shut it off, only for him to take you to his car and fuck the shit out of you on the backseat.

taesan; dongmin gives me one of the strongest "if i did drugs, i'd smoke weed" vibes ever, like damn. so be aware that when he got high he would be almost the opposite, his jokes wouldn't be as innocent as always, his eyes won't look at you the soft and loving way they always did, and his voice would turn two tones down while he barely responded to whatever you were saying because he was so lost in the way your lips moved he did not gave a single fuck about what you were saying. so he would start a kiss, a rough one, suddenly towering over your body and giving zero to none space for you to even backup or take the lead if you wanted to. he would be demanding, rougher than usual and very quiet, he would probably adventure and try new stuff only to be really ashamed when he came down from his high. but it was that or him simply listening to the music blasting out his speakers while he starred at the ceiling with your head laying on his shoulder or his lap and he played with your hair.

leehan; i feel like leehan could be two sides of a coin, no in between, he could either be super scary or super cute. i feel like he wouldn't like to do drugs as a daily basis so he would do it at a party, his head spinning so much his eyes could only register light schemes, he would love the vibe too, specially because you always were there with him to take care of his pathetic self. yeah, that until you both got back at home, he is typically one to be very active sexually so if he is on his "scary" side of the high, he would push you against the wall, whispering a mean "you're such a fucking slut. teasing me all night when you knew i couldn't fuck you there", his voice low and his alcohol infused breath hitting your face and it honestly made you nervous because you knew he wasn't thinking right. but oh well, he still fucked you and you were the one asking for more afterwards.

[suskz]

Guess who’s back~

hello my lovely angel <3

I was gonna recommend anonymously again but we need the pic.

so. Remember when chan broke us with this:

I was thinking about what if chan, like, handcuffed you to the bed? Being all rough and shit. Yep. I’m ill lol. So I was just wondering if you weren’t too busy if a fic/drabbles on the table? have a good day/night

remember to eat and drink water💕💕💕

Hi sweetie ♡

Need to say that rough sex with Chan has me on my knees 🛐

I’m sorry that it took so long for it to be finished. I rewrote ur ask like 3 times cuz I didn’t like the way it was coming out lol.

Then I found the right idea, but I’m not totally satisfied with how I wrote it in some parts. Still hope you like it!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

pairing: Bang Chan x fem!Reader

w/c: 2,5k

tw: smut ; rough sex ; dirty talk ; degradation kink ; praising kink ; choking ; handcuffing ; established relationship ; clit play ; it’s not specified, but there are safe-words between them, anyway reader doesn’t use any of them ; bruises.

When you see them, your eyes cling to the shiny pink metal you just found at the bottom of your boyfriend’s closet.

You take them and you turn them over in your hands, observing them carefully. It’s part of the toys he’s used in the past, just not with you.

Your relationship is quite new, and you haven't really discussed your sexual preferences yet. In fact, you're still discovering them, being new to your first romantic relationship. But the way your heart beats faster, your cheeks flush, and you feel a certain tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach at the images that come to mind at the thought of what he might do with those handcuffs, it leaves you with some questions.

But when you hear his voice calling you, you realize you've paused too long. You place them back in their spot and pick up the light white blanket he asked you to retrieve, which had been covering the heart-shaped handcuffs you've just discovered.

When you return to the living room, he’s putting the movie on TV. After cuddling up on the couch, with him half-lying down and you on top of him, covering yourselves with the blanket, he makes it start.

But you can't focus on it because of your previous discovery. Your desire to try it is so high. You think it's time to try introducing something new into sex, and that could be a good start. The only thing left to do is to ask. If only it were that simple.

"Channie…" his name escapes from your lips before you can rethink.

"Mh?" he directs his attention to you without taking his eyes off the TV.

Only when you raise your head to look at him does he do the same, locking eyes with yours.

"Well..." you say, unsure, "I found a c-couple of handcuffs under this blanket, in your closet," your voice comes out more stuttering than you want it to.

"Oh," he says surprised; he doesn't remember leaving them there, "I must have left them there by mistake, I'll put them back in place another time; thanks for telling me, I guess," he observes you closely, "Is there something wrong?".

"Uh... well," there's a small moment of silence, and finally you find the courage to tell him, "I thought we could try them." you take your eyes away from his, looking down, and you're thankful that there's no light in the room other than the one emitted by the TV because you feel your cheeks and ears start to burn.

The movie is long forgotten, and you expect questions from him, but he simply nods. He places two fingers under your chin and lifts your head so you can look him in the eyes, "Do you want to try now?".

"I mean, if you want to...".

"I want it," he replies immediately, "Now, be a good girl and go to the bedroom to undress while I tidy up here, okay?"

You nod quickly and head to the bedroom. You hear some noise in the living room and figure Chan is rearranging things while waiting for you to be ready for him.

You get rid of your pants and shirt, remaining only in your underwear, since you're not wearing a bra. You wonder if you should also take off your panties, but then you remember how much he enjoys touching you over them and seeing them get wet for him, so you keep them on.

You take the handcuffs from the closet and place them on the bed next to where you sit cross-legged, waiting for him.

And a few minutes later, you hear the door of the room open and you raise your head in his direction.

He pauses for a moment at the door, gazing at you, and his lips curl into a smirk. You feel your cheeks warm slightly as you watch him approach you.

He reaches you on the bed and positions himself over you, making you slide back until you're lying beneath him.

"I told you to undress completely, didn’t I?" he looks into your eyes, and before you can respond, one of his hands firmly grabs your inner thigh and you gasp slightly at the sudden touch, "But I won’t complain." He leans in over you and captures your lips with his.

He kisses you deeply and slowly, exploring your mouth with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. The room would be completely enveloped in silence if not for the subtle slurp of your tongues intertwining and the soft sighs escaping from your lips.

His hand that was on your tigh now begins to go up your body, brushing your core with his thumb in the process, continuing up your stomach and stopping at your breast, which he grasps, making sure to have your nipple between two of his fingers. He brings his two fingers together slightly to pinch it lightly, and the slight moan he elicits from you makes him repeat the action.

He breaks away from the kiss only for a moment; while his thumb teases your nipple, his other hand grips your inner thigh to open your legs further and lower his hips onto yours, pressing gently, which becomes rougher as you resume kissing, making both of you moan and making you feel how hard he is in his pants.

Before pulling away, he bites your lip, and then you look into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily. Your lips are red and swollen from the kiss, and he smiles, looking at you.

Finally, one of his hands reaches your most intimate part, sliding his thumb along it, feeling how wet you’ve made your panties, “Did I get you all worked up without even touching you properly?” he teases you.

You give him a fiery look, “The situation here tells me the same about you.” You reach for the crotch of his pants, grabbing and squeezing it, making him gasp. He returns your gaze and lightly slaps your pussy before lifting his body from yours, still remaining between your legs.

His gaze falls on the handcuffs next to you, and he takes them in his hands, observing them. “You’re just waiting for the moment when I fuck you with these, aren’t you?” he huffs a little chuckle through his nose. “First choking, now these; you like being submissive, huh? Leaving me in control of everything.” there’s a slight edge in his voice that shows how truly turned up he is. Just the fact that you’re trusting him so much, letting him have total control of your body, makes his mind slightly dizzy.

He looks at you and sees the desperation now colouring your features. “Now, face down, ass up”.

You do as you’re told, turning over and raising your ass, and putting your forearms on the bed to keep yourself slightly up so that your face isn’t pressed into the pillow. But without warning, his hands grab your arms and put them behind your back. You feel his hand just above your wrist, and then cold metal touching your skin, and you feel a shiver run through your entire body at the sensation.

His hand tightens its grip on your hip while the thumb of the other presses against your entrance, making your panties even wetter, then he pulls them down to your ankles. He would like to play with you a bit more, but he doesn’t feel that patient right now.

He lowers his pants and boxers just enough to pull out his cock, and you feel arousal coursing through your entire body at the thought of him fucking you with his clothes still on while you’re completely naked underneath him at his mercy.

He grabs the underside of your asscheeks —and beginning of your thighs—, spreading them apart and taking a good look at your hole clenching around nothing; then, one of his hands breaks away from your skin to slide two of his fingers inside, making you whimper.

You move your hips back and forth to the rhythm of his fingers, which is fucking slow, but his other hand tightens harder where it grips your skin, as a warning. And you hope it bruises.

He pulls them out and wipes them on one of your cheeks, and without any warning, he enters you in one swift motion, immediately starting to move without giving you time to settle properly.

“S-slow down—“ you ask him breathlessly, but he doesn’t.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” his breath is heavy, “To be tied up and used the way I like, huh?”. At his words, you clench around his cock, making him moan and grip your hips tightly.

He lowers himself onto you and rests his hands on the bed. Your face is pressed into the pillows as you try to stifle your moans. But it’s difficult with the way his cock moves so skilfully inside you, hitting your weak spots, making it so hard to hold back that you’re breathless and think about asking him to stop for a moment. You’re not usually so shy and never try to hold back your moans, but this time is different, maybe because of the handcuffs? You don’t even know.

But he notices. He stops, slides an arm under your breast, and lifts your body. His other hand grabs the headboard of the bed for balance.

His tongue licks that patch of skin behind your ear where you’re sensitive, “Why aren’t you making yourself heard?” he whispers and starts moving again, “I want to hear how good I make you feel, so don’t you dare hold back again.” it sounds like a threat, but you ignore that as his movements become faster than before, and soon he makes you fall back onto the bed, with half of your face on the pillows but your nose and mouth free, and this time you make yourself heard loud and clear.

“Good girl.” if the nickname didn’t make you moan loudly enough, his hand gripping your nape to choke you and push your head down definitely did.

With every thrust, you feel yourself on the verge of coming and you fucking love this so much.

Suddenly, you feel him stop, and your wrists are freed; but you don’t have time to understand what’s happening or to complain before he pulls his cock out of you and you’re turned onto your back.

He takes your arms and brings them to the headboard of the bed, where he puts the handcuffs back on you, securing them to it.

And then, he looks at you.

He observes your entire body, from your tear-streaked face with saliva-coated lips, to your wet, stretched out pussy, begging to be filled again.

Finally, your brain starts to reason again, and if possible, your cheeks flush an even deeper red. You feel exposed. You want to cover yourself with your arms, and you try, but the metallic noise that comes out reminds you of the situation you’re in. You try to close your legs —as much as you can with him in between them— but his hands roughly grasp your inner thighs, spreading them apart again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hives you a disapproving look, “Why should you hide from me, huh?” He seems annoyed, mad, and you shrink under his judgmental gaze. “I don’t think you deserve my dick inside you again. Maybe I should leave you like this: handcuffed to the bed, naked and needy for the rest of the night. What do you think about that?”.

You feel like crying at his words. He couldn’t really do that, could he?

You shake your head quickly.

“Obviously, a slut like you just wants to be filled with dick all the time,” he takes his cock in hand and slaps the tip against your clit, and as you moan freely, he suppresses the groan that tries to escape his lips. “isn’t that right?”.

“Please.”

“Please what?” he responds coldly, looking down on you.

“Put it in, please.” you beg him, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“What if I don’t?”.

You feel tears of frustration forming at the corners of your eyes, “Channie…”

He slaps his tip against your clit again, drags it to your hole, “You’ll cry if I don’t put it in, won’t you? What a crybaby.”, and then he finally pushes it in.

He starts thrusting into you again, a little slower this time, but deeper than before.

Again, you feel the need to grab onto something, anything, but you can’t, and this makes you frustrated.

He places his hand on your stomach and presses, “Feel it” he moans, “feel my cock pushing inside you”. When your mind registers his words and you glance down at his hand, he removes it, and you can clearly see the outline of his cock bulging from your belly.

This is what makes you both feel close to the edge.

Chan feels he can’t hold out much longer. His hand reaches down where your bodies meet and takes your clit between two fingers, lightly pinching it.

"Are you about to come? Huh? You want to come, don’t you?".

"Please, daddy please." Your eyes are closed and your head thrown back into the pillows, so you don't see the way his face tightens at your words. A loud groan leaves his lips and your walls are painted with white spurts of hot cum. You follow right after him.

You don't realize you've blacked out for a while until you open your eyes and see Chan filling your chest and shoulders with sweet kisses.

He looks at you, and finally his gaze is soft and relaxed, “How was it?” he asks you attentively.

You smile, “Amazing, as always”.

“Good.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips.

Afterward, he takes a warm cloth and cleans you, puts another pair of underwear on you, and one of his shirts simply because he likes to see you wearing his stuff, while he puts on his boxers.

He applies a soothing lotion on your wrists as you talk about how you felt, and finally, he lies down in bed with you, covering both of you with the blanket.

You rest your head on his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat relaxes you as he strokes your hair.

“Was I too rough?” he asks, needing to make sure you don’t feel any pain.

“A bit, but I also liked it because of that”.

"I wasn’t too mean, right? Everything was good?" he's sure you would have told him if it was too much for you, but he still feels the need to hear confirmation from you that everything is okay.

“No, everything was perfect, baby, don't worry," you stroke his side.

“Good," he says, feeling more relaxed, "sleep now." he caresses your shoulder.

You already feel your eyes can't stay open any longer, but you still lift your head to give him a goodnight kiss.

And you fall asleep like that, in each other's arms, in the relaxing silence of the night and the sound of your hearts beating for each other.

[ykulovesocialsux]

𝐘𝐊𝐔𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋---𝐘𝐊𝐔𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

HEADLINER

all rights reserved @ ykulovesocialsux 2024

warnings :) nsfw (heavy cursing, sexual themes) unprotected sex, missionary , mating press, model!geto, photographer!reader, black fem reader, not proofread, lowercase intended

minors/ageless blogs do not interact

socialsmutsocialsmutssocials

you never thought that your client geto suguru would be the sexiest man you had ever laid your eyes on. you've worked with him most of the time from big clothing brands, to little boutiques he was a cool person and your friendship was very flirtatious but this was a whole new level.

being a photographer was a fun and reliable job. shit got hard but it was definitely worth it. especially if you had a view like you did in front of you almost everyday. the black haired man had nothing but his undergarments on. His briefs stopping right below his v line and black trimmed happy trail.

this was a sight to see.

"like something ya' see sweetheart?" he smirked as the makeup artist was doing her last final touches. you rolled your eyes. and you'd definitely be lying if seeing him like this made you feel some type of way. snapping the pictures was easier than expected. it was editing them to be perfect that made everything hard.

having to stare at an image like that. for hours practically had you creaming your pants. light edits were made nothing major he was a handsome man but pesky fly aways from his long hair would not be tolerated on the cover of ELLE magazine.

you felt a hover over your shoulder as you had your laptop propped on your legs. "ya' staring at my dick?" banter like this was normal. he would always pick fights with you after the photoshoot just to make fun and give you a bagel.

but it wouldn't be weird if you actually weren't staring at every crevice of his briefs. "no, that's not professional." he hummed in his response handing you a bagel. his silk robe that has suguru embroidered in the back of it was visible as he took a seat in front of you.

he obviously had a manspreading problem. knees facing from east to west. a visible line of sight to his inner thighs. was this man not wearing any underwear?

still making finishing touches. he opened his mouth to spark a conversation between you two. "whats yer' favorite sex position?" he slightly grinned as he finished off his tea. "i hardly think that's professional."

"since when did you care about being professional?" he had you stopping in your tracks. you grimaced slightly before starting again. "missionary." you went back to editing pictures disregarding his full on rant about how he prefers the mating press position.

"it's way more intimate."

he looked at you with daring eyes he was definitely undressing you visually. "what do you know about being intimate. do you even know were the clit is."

"oh of course i do you wanna go back to my dressing room and find out?"

a long agonizing silence the tension was thick and mighty. rethinking every syllable that came out of his mouth just then. was he being serious? he looked like he wanted to pounce on you right then and there.

obviously if you did commit to this and it got out you wouldnt believe the damage this would cause. not to just both of your careers but you guys companies and agencies you two both work for.

although hero was a overwhelmingly attractive man. and it's not like you weren't thinking about his girth, length, and pace.

"maybe."

"is that a yes hun?"

his replies were fast and snappy. he definitely thought about this conversation before. "i suppose so."

he huffed hot air. leaned forward towards you. a light chuckle coming from his throat. his adam's apple bobbed. "girl you're gonna get me in trouble." he stood in front of you and took two step towards you to stand over you.

he put his hand over the rim of your computer screen and gently closed it shut. he got in your face. "ya real pretty when you're conflicted."

"m' not conflicted now."

that's how you ended up in the situation you were in now. in the missionary position while geto's thrusts were going in and out of you in a fast pace.

this was too much for you. he had a very high stamina. crawling away wasn't working he would only pull me back. a milky white ring formed around the base of his dick. his shaft long, veiny, and shiny. the rhythmic sounds of skin plapping together.

his strong musky scent and the heat for your bodies colliding together in the most intimate way possible is making reach you your climax faster than usual.

"mmph!- fuck!"

"mmyeah? fuck yeah, fuck yeaaas."

you had already reached your limit with this unsustainable mount of pleasure. geto on the other hand, hasn't. he flipped your legs up mating press position. his vigorous pace has started again.

the fucked out expression never leaving your face. your voice was being dragged out. it was raspy with desperation.

"please- mm fuck!"

"shutup and grip my cock with this pussy."

you obeyed. using as much strength as you could to help him cum. his moans and groans got louder and so did yours. behind the tiredness in your eyes deep down you loved this shit.

a couple of weeks later the magazine was published

HEADLINER : GETO SUGURU

all rights reserved @ykulovesocialsux

[cramathonn]

Thoughts on Jane and Seth as a couple? And fun headcanons about them if you have any?

Ohoho, heck YEAAAH

I love Jane x Seth, they're so cute

Teasing dom woman and dense af submissive and pure man who she can ABSOLUTELY suplex (he'd let her but not without a fight, would so consider it training)

But like, I had a thought before this one and it was just

"Tom and Jerry but make them humans and Jerry is trans and a dominatrix" – My brain about Jane x Seth

And headcanons about them? Hmm, I think Jane would have a hard time spending time with Seth due to her missions and all, but she would try to make time, absolutely.

Seth would SOOO try to get her to come to his family time weekends. I mean, that's his gf, she's family now so like, family weekends with parents AND hot gf? Sign him up!!!

Seth is also the shyest boyo in the planet. Don't het me wrong, he IS dense as fuck, but once he gets the hint? Oh, he's blushing, oh he's hiding behind his tail and turning around to Jane cannot see his face (she loves seeing him all flushed and shy, that's her recharger, your honor)

I also can see them having sparring dates and training dates. Seth is a very hardworking individual and constantly tries to improve his physical capabilities. Considering that Jane EASILY bested him in their first encounter, he'd obviously want to constantly spar with her like, PLEAAAASE TEACH HIM HOW TO BE NIMBLE ON HIS FEET HE IS BEGGING

NSFW headcanons ahead! So if you're a Minor, please stop here!

Jane if VERY naughty. Like, have you SEEN her trailers??? That woman is the incarnation of Aphrodite AND Dionysus combines (aka she's the incarnation of SEX). So like, she will absolutely go down on Seth. Also, T4T Jane x Seth anyone?

But like, since so many ppl see Jane and Seth as Tom and Jerry, may I offer you transfem Jane, the queen of tucking? Like, Seth had NOOO idea she was trans and when he found out he just found her like, 10x hotter.

Like, imagine your girlfriend, who you know is strong af and sooo fucking cunning, finally tells you she is trans and you just "Omfg my girlfrend is so fucking strong and determined and beautiful and she has such a huge di-"

Seth is a virgin, I'm sorry but that SHOULD be common knowledge between all in the fandom. Like, bro has NO game due to how dense and blunt he is. While Jane has THE game, like, even Belle said she had rizz for fuck's sake! That woman is bisexual hazard in a way that she CAUSES the hazard and is, most possibly, a lot of people's bi awakenings (I just know some poor straight woman is looking at her going like "Wtf, why is she so pretty holy shit I wanna date her" and having to stop and rethink their entire history with sexual and/or romantic attraction)

Either way, Seth is prideful but not in an arrogant way, so I'm having a hard time deciding if he would vehemently deny that he's a virgin or if he would just... Say it. NO WAIT, BETTER OUTCOME. Jane is making out with him and he's so nervous and he has a boner (or his pussy is wet, live your headcanons to the fullest!) and Jane teases him about it and he's so so anxious and nervous and shy and gosh she catches on that it's his first time so quickly and she asks him about it and I can just SEE his ears pressing against his head in shame and him slowly nodding without making eye contact....

Soft first time. Jane is SO caring with him for his first time. Ngl, they probably continue to go soft for the first couple of times before Seth is comfortable with experiencing... But I feel like he would be very vanilla even after experimenting (is also very traditional with the "sex is supposed to be romantic" thought and that almost fucks up his first time until Jane calmed him down through it and just... Told him it doesn't need to be romantic and it can just be a fun and enjoyable activity)

Either way, Jane is kinky af, she was a dominatrix once and you CANNOT take that away from me. She revels when Seth lets her go rough on him and she's like, the queen of aftercare, change my mind

Very healthy couple who respects each other's boundaries. She knows she has to be blunt and very literal with Seth so that he can get things and he kinda appreciates it, since it's not always that people understand his problem with getting social clues or context hints. He hated it at the beginning, thinking Jane was babying him, but he quickly understood that he wouldn't be able to understand her boundaries as well of she didn't do that, so he talked to her that day and thanked her PROFUSELY (they ended up cuddling in bed after that)

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART TEN

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: you are forced to hear what Manu has to tell you, and a surprise at the office makes you rethink your relationship with Javier

Warnings: hurt, angst, offenses, fluff, mentions of smut, sexual tension, jealousy and more angst

A/N: sorry taking so long, I was sick and I was caught up in a sudden Agent Whiskey vibes that got me distracted from Javi and Joel 🥺

Also, I think it's pretty obvious I have no idea how the DEA office works in the show, so in my story, I picture it as the station of B99 where there's the upper floor department which is the DEA and the lower floor department that it's the station, lol

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• PART THREE

• PART FOUR

• PART FIVE

• PART SIX

• PART SEVEN

• PART EIGHT

• PART NINE

5.3k words

When Manu left his home that Sunday morning, he was determined to face the man he hated the most in the world. 

He wasn't sure how he began hating that man, but it had something to do with the moment he joined the police enforcement in Colombia. 

He was a typical american guy, looking down at everything in Manu's beloved country and always thinking he was above all. 

Maybe it was his smug smile, those stupid tight pants as if he'd been trapped for over a decade or how the office girls swooned for him. He hadn't exchanged more than two or three words, but whenever they had some mission concerning Escobar and the DEA dogs, that motherfucker walked around with that attitude, as if he was better than anyone else. 

Manu just hated how pretentious he was, how he swore he had all those women on his feet. Most of the time, he did, but the women he had on his feet weren't the kind of women Manu liked. They were usually cheap, easy girls, or literally prostitutes. And then he saw you. 

You were possibly the most beautiful woman Manuel had ever seen in his life, you were always sweet and kind to everyone, politeness and efficiency were something everyone from the office noticed, you treated everyone equally… except for maybe Colleen, it was noticeable how you couldn't stand her, but no one could actually blame you as that woman was kind of annoying. Manu watched you from afar every day, since you began working at the station. He liked admiring you, he had never spoken to you, but in his mind, he was sure you were a beautiful person, inside and out. He just didn't understand why you seemed to be attached to Peña's hip, you weren't a cop, you weren't his partner and you certainly weren't his girlfriend, as the word on the street said Peña didn't do relationships. 

And yet, you gave him the heart eyes, you were always laughing together and very often you giggled at whatever he had said. 

Manu was always confused as to why someone like you, could orbitate around Javier. 

Then, Carlos initiated his weird obsession with you. He still went after the girls in the office, but you seemed to linger longer in his mind. One of the reasons was that, just like Manu, he also couldn't stand Javier. And winning one of his girls would be a great victory for him. And also because you never gave Carlos the time of the day, and it drove him mad. Not many women refused him, but you did, so when flirtation didn't work, he turned his aim at you, and tried making you the office's joke, which Manu immediately put an end to it, when he was around at least. He didn't need people gossiping around and distracting themselves from work. 

So he just decided not to listen to any of that gossip and remind himself that everything that came from Carlos was pure shit. 

And then you were transferred to his department, and when he met you, he knew he'd made the right choice by not letting any gossip about you influence him. You were everything he'd dreamed of in a person and just the fact that you actually took a liking on him, was enough to show Manu that sometimes good things happened. 

During your brief relationship, Manu never really liked the fact you were once so close to Javier, but just as he had his own past relationships, you did too, besides, you were always so honest when you said you didn't have anything with him, you two were friends and nothing else, and well, as for Manuel, he had no reasons to doubt you.

He was bothered ever since he woke up the day before, he'd spent a wonderful night with you, you had finally had sex, he was staying at your house and that must've been a big deal, right? But once he woke up, he heard you whimpering and moaning in his sleep. He smirked happily, assuming you were dreaming of him and possibly wanted another round of him.

So he trailed kisses around your neck and your shoulder, which you sleepily welcomed with more moans, but then he heard Javier's name coming out of your lips.

Manu didn't really believe it at first, he must have misheard what you said, and even after he questioned you and you explained yourself saying you were just telling him good morning. Once again, he believed you, he had no reasons to doubt you after all. 

Then when you both got to the barbecue, he couldn't help but have that characteristic feeling of hatred and anger spreading through his body. The mere presence of Javier caused that. Everything about that guy bothered him, made his skin crawl and the fact he kept his stupid, ridiculous sunglasses on all the time pretending he wasn't eye fucking you, was driving him insane. 

Manu couldn't lie about the fact he was a little disappointed when you asked him to go home, he loved every minute of the night you had spent together and every fiber of his body was longing for a repetition of that, he wanted to do it again, to have you lost in his arms, being in so much pleasure you couldn't help but being loud as hell. However, he didn't want to overstay, if you were asking him to leave you had a good reason, and for the third time, Manuel Herrera believed in you because he had no other reason not to.

When he woke up that Sunday morning, he sighed as the side of the bed you were supposed to take as your own was cold and empty. He hoped he could wake up to your sleepy, smiley face, but that was not happening. He got up and made himself breakfast, taking his time to think about your relationship and smiled at himself, he had something good going on and he wanted to assure things would continue that way. An idea crossed his mind and after debating it with himself, he decided to do it, as there was a slim, but consistent possibility it would work out. 

He saw himself driving to the place of the guy he hated the most in the whole wide world: Javier Peña.

At first he hadn't planned it very well, but it was something pretty simple, he was going to talk to Javier in a straightforward way, no beating around the bush, he was just going to straightforward ask Javier to leave you alone once for all. 

He wasn't trying to control your friendships, but he didn't trust Javier and since you seemed to have been so vulnerable towards him, he thought it could be a nice request, a fair request, even. Especially since Javier had been treating you like shit for months, Manu thought it would be a decent idea. First he was going to knock on his door, have a chat with him and then he would go to your apartment, kiss you on the lips and take you out for lunch. 

He stood in front of Javier's door, knocking on it and as soon as the door opened, he recited the words he'd rehearsed in his mind, until he went completely silent at the image of you, standing there, naked underneath that shirt and Manu's world was forever changed by that. 

At first, it took him a split second to recognize you, he'd eyed first the naked legs and only then his gaze went up until the confirmation of who it was hit him harder than a train running right off the track. His first assumption was that it was just another hooker opening the door, but when he realized it was no one but his own girlfriend, it felt like the ground had disappeared from under his feet. 

"Manu?" You whispered in shock, he was literally the last person you thought that would knock on Javier's door. You were even holding his badge, being sure Javi himself returned to get it, but not your boyfriend. He just stood there, with a shocked and horrid expression, he didn't dare say a single word, instead he saw as your lower lip trembled and your eyes immediately filled with tears. 

"Manu" his name was nothing but a ghostly whisper coming out of your lips "I'm so sorry…" you began your apologies but he didn't want to hear any of it. 

He ran his hands through his hair, in frustration, pain, heartbreak.

"How long, Y/N?" His voice was steady, he really thought it was going to break, show you how gutted he really was, but to his own surprise, it came out as emotionless as it could be.

"Manu, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for anything to happen, I was gonna go and talk to you later today, explain to you what's happening, I know I hurt you, but I don't want you to hate me…" 

The way he stood there, not moving, not speaking, just staring at you was worse than if he was throwing a scene. So far, you had only met the good side of him, the side that was docile and sweet, you had no idea how he'd react to the shock of catching you red-handed. 

"How long, Y/N?" He repeated himself "how long have you been double dealing like that? How long have you been cheating on me with Peña?!" He raised his voice and grabbed you by the arm. His grip wasn't painful but it was strong enough so you couldn't simply break free from it. 

He took you inside Javier's apartment and closed the door, not wanting the neighbors to experience that scene. 

"I-I haven't been with Javier for long… it happened last night, but I was gonna talk to you Manu, I swear. You are a great guy, and you deserve someone good to you, someone who doesn't hurt your feelings and can love you…" you explained, as you couldn't control your sobs, too many feelings flooding you all at once, finally the guilt and shame you had been lacking appeared. It was completely different now, at the light of the day. During the night, you'd been so caught on in your feelings for Javier, he was arms length close to you, he was right there, you couldn't resist, and your boyfriend… well, at that moment he was just an idea, a thought pushed away to the back of your mind. But now, Manu stood there, flesh and bone, right in front of you, anger and disappointment all aimed at you, and he was right in every single aspect. What you did to him was inexcusable, you couldn't even try to justify… what could you tell him? You couldn't resist Javier? You were carried away in the moment? You loved Javier and the whole reason why you dated Manu in the first place was because he made you forget your heart break for a little while? Would all those excuses be enough for you if the roles were reversed and you just found out your boyfriend had spent the night with the woman you hated the most in the world? You knew it wasn't enough. 

"Ay, eres tan dulce!" He scoffed and looked at you, before turning around and taking a good look at the apartment "even when you were bouncing on Peña's cock you were still worried about my feelings… aren't you a great girlfriend?" 

"I'm so sorry Manu, I never meant to hurt you, I really care for you, but we are not right for each other.." 

"I'll give you one on that, querida, we are definitely not right for each other, because unlike your new boyfriend, I don't go out with whores" he said in a low voice "you know, Carlos always said you were one of those, a whore, a tiny little stupid girl who ran after Peña like a puppy with stupid heart eyes in hopes one day he would pay the slightest attention to you, and I always thought he was wrong… but now, I see he was absolutely right. I just came over to have a small chat with him, about you, by the way! So he would leave you alone, and I find you here, playing housewife, cleaning up after his mess, look at the way you are dressed, for fuck's sake, I've seen Peña pick up prostitutes wearing more clothes than you are right now! But I guess Carlos was right, you are not only a bitch, Y/N, but a real stupid one… out of all the men you could get involved with, you go and choose Peña?!" Manu laughed softly "I don't usually have hard feelings, and to be honest, if I could I'd wish you to be happy with him, but the problem is that I know you won't. Because he is an asshole, he's a manwhore, and you and your tight little pussy aren't gonna be able to keep him to yourself much longer, eventually he'll grow tired of you, and he'll go after other whores to seek the pleasure you won't be able to give him any longer, so I just know for a fact you won't be happy with him, but it's fine by me, because you deserve every single heartbreak he's gonna put you through, Y/N" Manu said giving you one last glance, a glance full of despise and walked out the door, leaving you alone with your guilt.

Now, if Manu had slapped you across the face, or kicked you in the guts it would've probably hurt less than his words. 

You knew he was right, you couldn't even try and argue, he was just right. You had played with his feelings, used him in order to feel better about yourself and pretty much just to make Javier jealous. 

You felt so ashamed of yourself and you wanted to curl up in some corner and disappear, everything he'd told you echoed through your mind. You didn't regret your night with Javi, not in a million of years, but now you saw you could have handled things better, not only that, you should have handled things better, that was the bare minimum. Manu never deserved the heartache you put him through and you would live with the guilt of that. 

You walked back to his bed and curled up under the blanket, you wanted him there, you wanted to assure yourself he was real, what you two had was something worth screwing up your relationship for, but at the same time your ex's words were haunting you. Was Manu really right? At some point, would Javi just get tired of you? 

You didn't know when you fell asleep, but you certainly did so while you were still crying, and only at the smell of Javier as you buried your face into your pillow was able to calm you down. 

                             •••

Now, Javier was annoyed. 

He wasn't just annoyed, he was pissed off. If he were trapped in a room with Steve Murphy and Pablo Escobar chances were he would shoot Murphy. 

Javi felt he had been ripped off a dream, he'd spent the perfect night with you, the woman he loved and craved and he had made plans to spend the perfect day with you. 

He would bring you breakfast in bed, sit next to you and enjoy your company, maybe share a cigarette with you. Then, he would invite you to shower and play with your tight, sweet and beautiful pussy there, kiss your body and soap all over it, so his hand would be a lot slippery when he explored your body. 

Taking you to bed, he would probably rail you, and god, he wouldn't save any of his fantasies, he would have you on top of him, doggy style, topping you, it didn't matter, he just wanted your body against his, he wanted to spill inside of you and keep you to himself. 

Then, as a gentleman, Javi would take you out on a date and finish this perfect Sunday buried balls deep inside of you once more. But then, Steve began knocking on his door like a madman demanding Javi to go check on La Quica information that led to nothing and deprived him from a whole day of you. 

He wondered what you were up to, though. As he drove through the streets of Colombia and pretended to hear Murphy's words, as he blabbered about his wife, his kid and his life. But Javi's mind… ohh that was elsewhere. 

He licked his lips and focused ahead, but all he could think of was you. He wondered if you went back to your place, if you'd changed clothes… what if you were on his bed, legs spread and fingering yourself thinking of him? The thought made him groan and his jeans get a little tighter.

"Wow, pay attention, man!!!" Steve suddenly said as Javi had run the red light and nearly hit another car. 

"Jesus… sorry" Javier mumbled as he got back to his senses, your sweet pussy nearly got him killed, he smirked at himself. 

It didn't take much longer to get home, he was just so eager to see you. Javi was convinced you were getting ready for your date, maybe he should have bought you some flowers? He wasn't sure, he hadn't been on a date in ages, what if you didn't like flowers? Was it possible? Women usually liked flowers. He could always get some on your way to the restaurant, it didn't really matter, he just wanted to be near you. 

He barely paid attention to Steve saying his goodbyes and got into his apartment. He knocked on your door first, but as he had no replies, he went to his own, maybe you were still there. 

He silently walked inside, and headed to his bedroom, he called you in a low voice but didn't get an answer, he didn't like that silence and closed his eyes, allowing himself to be taken back to his pop's ranch, he was sure he would never be welcomed by silence, instead there would always be music, laughter and giggles, coming from his loving wife, you and your babies. 

He shook his head, he couldn't keep having these thoughts, it was too damn early for that, he didn't even know if you relationship would last. He wanted to, of course, but he also knew you deserved better, so if you ever found someone really good and would like to be with the new guy, Javi was sure nothing could be done. 

But those self loathing thoughts died the moment he found you in his bed. You were still in his shirt and his heart clenched at the image. 

You were just so relaxed, so gorgeous, and he smiled at himself. It felt like a whiff of new air, leaving the suffocating feeling he constantly had in his life, his job and just going home to something good. Suddenly he understood what his dad meant, fuck, he understood what Steve meant. It was about having something to come back home to. 

Javi got rid of his shoes and sat next to the edge of the bed, he admired you, your hair, your body. You were everything Javier ever wished for, and he was aware it was too much for him, but it didn't matter at that time. 

His hand went for your hair, caressing it gently, seeing how you barely moved in your sleep. His hand ran down your back this time, he stroked you over the shirt, and saw how it rolled up, exposing your cheeks. He bit his lips, your ass was so perfect, so gorgeous, inviting, it was a sight that would always drive him insane, but at that very moment, he didn't want to touch you inappropriately, he wanted to feel you closer. He lowered his body and sank his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, it smelled like home to him. Javier chuckled at himself at how pathetic he was, you definitely put him under your spell and he loved every single minute of it. 

When Javi wrapped his arm around you, you shifted and raised yourself startled as you didn't even remember falling asleep in the first place. 

You turned around and saw him, he looked puzzled, confused even, but you didn't care. You just threw your arms around his neck and pulled you for a real tight hug. You tried controlling your tears, but it was hard. That heaviness in your chest wouldn't go away, it seemed every time you took your breath something stung inside and it was like a pool of tears were being contained by a thin curtain that was about to burst at any minute. 

Javi just held you, keeping you in his embrace as tight as he could, though he immediately demanded to know what was going on. Through his mind the worst possible scenarios ran freely, he gulped thinking of what could've happened to you, fuck, for a moment he feared even someone from Los Pepes had tried to harm you in any way, but when your shaky, low voice professed the name of your now, ex-boyfriend, everything made sense. 

Truth was, Javier was so drunk in love, he spent his afternoon living in a world where only you and him mattered and only you and him were a couple. No one else existed, no else was in the picture, so of course he forgot about Manu's pathetic existence, and consequently, also forgot you were going to talk to him.

"Shit baby, what happened? Did he hurt you? Did that motherfucker harm you? If he touched a strand of your hair I'll go over there and I'll fucking kill him!!!" Javier raged, though you didn't seem physically bad, he didn't trust Manuel at all. But your head shook and your grip got tighter around his body, in a clear sign you didn't want him to leave at all. 

So he patiently waited. He rubbed your back, pulling you so close you were now on his lap again, and for the sweet coincidence of having you on top of him like that for the second time in less than twenty four hours, he smiled. With the exception that this time you were the one who needed to be comforted. 

And eventually you started talking. 

You told him in details, how you noticed Javi had forgotten his badge and you were just so sure he was the one knocking on the door. You told him about Manu's shock, how silent he was, until how he crushed you with his words. 

But you didn't stop there, you looked into Javier's eyes, not hiding your tears and told him how every single word Manu had told you was right, how guilty you felt and his heart shattered, as he had no clue on how he could help you. 

Javi cupped your cheeks, wiping your tears with his long fingers and pecked your forehead. 

"Guilt is painful too, when you have conscious, it hurts to deceive someone you care about. I'm sorry it is eating you up alive, cariño, but the damage is done and all I can tell you is that I'm here for you… maybe it's too soon, maybe it's stupid but if you want to try, I want to try, we can make something out of this situation… maybe what he talked about last night, about the ranch, about leaving our jobs, maybe it could happen.." 

Javier's eyes were so hopeful, so full of expectation you couldn't even believe in yourself. It was just too much, too many feelings overwhelming you, crushing you and he was there, wanting to date you. 

Oh my god, the date.

You were supposed to go on a date with Javi, and there you were, crying your eyes out because your ex barked a few mean words to you. 

You felt so angry and so tired, you could feel another wave of hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes, but his soft touch snapped you out of your crisis. 

"Come on, princesa, let me get you home" he said in a calm voice, helping you out of his bed and crossing the hallway with you. It was funny how close you two were living and how easy it was to just come and go. 

He closed the door to your apartment behind him and once more cupped your cheeks, holding your head in place and making you pay attention to him.

"You need to rest, you're too nervous… it's just a lot of emotions, I ain't no expert, but I guess it is making you suffer, so you should take a shower, put on some of your own clothes…" he pointed at his own shirt that covered so little of your beautiful body "we can just go on our date tomorrow or some other day, there's no pressure… I can also stay tonight, or not… you can think about that while you shower" his voice was calm and he just walked you to your room, opening the wardrobe and picking you something he thought you would enjoy wearing. 

That was some domestic Javier Peña you didn't think you would ever witness. It made your heart warm, melting slowly and you suddenly felt like your chest had been cleared away, like a wave of good, positive feelings were going through your veins and for a brief second, that known feeling everything would be alright. 

You didn't even bother looking at the clothes he pick vced for you, instead, you just got rid of his shirt.

"Javi?" You whispered and waited as he turned around, you rested your arms on the side of your full naked body, a little nervous, not sure what to do with them, as Javier stopped everything he was doing and stared at your gorgeous, naked body. 

He had touched you, and he had eaten you out, sure, but it was dark the night before, he'd seen you but not as explicit as he was at that moment, and he loved it. 

He could feel his cock twitching in his pants and didn't hesitate in walking to you, arms around you, pulling you for a deep kiss. 

You corresponded to it, wanting his body on yours. It wasn't enough, you were craving him just as much as he craved you. 

"I want you to shower with me, Javi… please" you begged against his lips, though you knew you didn't have to beg, he would take you right there and then if it were to him. 

As you helped him undress, you both jumped at the phone ringing.

You ignored it at first, your hands unbuttoning his painfully see through white shirt, giggling as you kissed along his jawline and down his neck. 

But then the phone rang again, and again and at some point, Javier sighed annoyed and broke the kiss, walking to your living room and picking it up. He didn't care if it was your mom, your dad, your sister or Pablo Escobar calling you, he didn't make any efforts to sound remotely polite, he just wanted whoever was calling you to stop. 

"Oh, hello agent Peña… I've been calling your apartment but I had a gut feeling you would pick up Y/N's phone…" Manu's voice greeted the man with a sinister excitement, he sounded way too happy for someone who had just found out he'd been cheated on.

"Anyway, I'm sorry to interrupt your night, but as Y/N might have mentioned, I got the evening shift at the station tonight and we made an arrest… now our prisoner is asking specifically for you, to see if you can help with the release" 

Javier's blood ran cold. 

What if they'd arrested someone from Los Pepes, that would explain why that son of a bitch was probably grinning as he talked on the phone. In fact, the whole call was weird, it sounded like a trap to begin with, but he'd called and asked for Javier himself, and not for you… so he didn't really think Manu would try and do something against him, then yes, you confirmed he had the evening shift that Sunday, which meant he might have been telling the truth. 

And it also meant Javier would only find out when he got there. 

At first he said no when you insisted on going with him, even if Manu had come up with an evil plan, Javi was driving towards the office, there was no problem, there were always so many people no matter what time of the day, so he couldn't really try to do anything against him. But Javier wasn't comfortable with the situation, what if it was indeed someone from Los Pepes, he didn't want you to see it, to witness it… it was humiliating, embarrassing even. But then you gave him those beautiful puppy eyes of yours and he had to give in, he always did when you begged him right. 

As you both arrived not later than 30 minutes, you both saw Manu waiting at the door, he was in his full uniform and smiling big as he realized you'd come along. Just like he had planned. 

He greeted you both good evening, which was ignored as Javier rushed inside, getting to the cells as fast as possible, you followed him right behind, being also tense and curious to know who was the mysterious prisoner. 

"So, as I was trying to say, the prisoner is an old friend of yours, Agent Peña…" Manuel couldn't hide his excitement as the two of you stood in silence.

"JAVIIIII!!!" a squeaky voice came from the inside of the cell, where the prostitute was being held. 

"G-Gabi?" Javier stuttered, swallowing hard as he looked from you to the woman. 

Gabriela used to be his favorite girl to go to when he needed a hand… or a mouth… or any other part really. He'd spent quite a lot on her services over the years and the two of them had the closest thing Javier could call a relationship before you came along. He'd paid for her services, enjoy them and she would still linger around for a cigarette or two, there was even a time she ended up falling asleep next to him, and they only woke up in the morning, and of course, she didn't charge any extras. 

Manu saw your jealousy expression and felt so much joy. He had predicted Javier would screw things up with you, but he just had no idea of how fast he would do it. Even if Manu was enjoying every single second of it, even he thought it was kind of ridiculous how quick your fantasy of living a happy life with Javier was falling into pieces. Because even if he did get his shit together - which Manu and everyone, even you deep down, doubt it, would you still be able to deal with his past?

Manuel grabbed the key and opened the cell "here it is, the person you requested, ma'am" he bit his lip to try to hide the smile the moment Gabi dramatically wrapped herself around Javier's neck and began crying into his shirt, telling him a sob story of how one of her clients refused to pay so the situation turned into a whole scene and the cops were called and she was arrested even if it was unfair. 

Your stomach churned at the scene and you tried your best to remind yourself Javier had a life before you, a very busy one, but would that be frequent? From time to time you'd have to handle ghosts from this past like that?

When that that woman who knew your man better than you did, intimately, more than you did, wrapped her arms around his neck, you knew you had enough for the night, not only for that, but for the whole weekend. 

You turned around and walked out of the station.

____

A/N: so I guess Manu's "revenge" was pretty satisfying, wasn't it? I told you guys I wouldn't turn him into a bad guy, and idk to me he had all the right to call reader that way and he could've done it even worse but I guess he's just a good guy after all. And then he had a little help from destiny and now we gotta wait and see what happens next!!! Tell me what you guys think of this chapter besties ❤️

[moonstruckme]

IN a week - what I’ve never seen in a Steve 80’s pop star AU!!! his hair? joes actual voice? THE FACE? He’s always giving pop star to me

Yessss thanks sm for requesting honey!

join the party

popstar!Steve x fem!reader ♡ 705 words

“Oh wow.” You swipe a magazine from the rack by the checkout. “The sexual exploits of heartthrob Steve Harringon? Inside source tells all?” You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “Stevie, is there anything you’d like to tell me? Has Robin sold you out?” 

“She would,” Steve allows, not even looking at the magazine as he sets your groceries on the conveyor belt. Nancy has told him a million times to not risk being out in public like this, but he says he misses the mundanity of it. I just want to go to the mall and shit like that with my girlfriend, that shouldn’t be a big ask. So they’d compromised; Steve sacrifices the volume of his hair every time he goes out by squishing it under a baseball cap, and Nancy gets the peace of mind knowing that there’s no chance of her most big-time client being recognized while his hair (practically trademarked, at this point) is covered. “But she has even more fun with feeding them ridiculous stories. She says my real life is too boring.” He wraps his arm around you, drawing you away from the magazine rack. “Monogamy, you know?”

“Such a drag,” you agree, gratified when he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Wanna see what she told them?”

Steve makes a noncommittal humming sound, but he leans over to watch as you leaf through to find his page. “Ooh, this is a good picture of you, babe.” Steve winks at you from the page, skin glossy and laminate. “Okay, so you slept with every single girl at Hawkins High while you were there, you…apparently had a very passionate fling with an heiress on vacation in Bora Bora, and you were found in a closet, completely naked with two girls at a party…in uptown?” You gawp at him, feigning betrayal. “Stevie, was that the party last week? When did you slip away?”

He jostles you by the shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“You’re so sweet to me. Hey, look—” you pick up another magazine, reading off the cover, “The seven-step regiment Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington doesn’t want you to know.” 

“You’re joking.” He scrambles to see over your shoulder, and you laugh, showing it to him.

“I am,” you confess, and Steve actually sighs in relief. “It says five steps.” 

“Suckers,” he scoffs. “Don’t fuck with me like that, babe, that’s my income you’re joking about.” 

You laugh again, reaching up to take his hand where it’s slung over your shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short,” you say, intertwining your fingers. “It’s only like, ninety percent of your income. You’ve got some talent.” 

Steve looks at you, eyebrows rising nearly to the brim of his hat. “Oh yeah? Changing our tune from the car this morning, are we?”

You scoff, but he only wrestles you closer, pulling you tight against his side. “I didn’t say you were a bad singer, I said you couldn’t hit the same notes as Madonna.” 

“But I did,” he says smugly, taking out his wallet as you approach the checkout. 

“Well, you tried.” 

Steve hums disappointedly. “M’gonna have to rethink all these free, private concerts if my audience doesn’t appreciate them,” he says. 

You smother a laugh, pressing a hand to your chest in a show of dismay. “What? No, please, Mr. Harrington, you can’t do that. I’m your biggest fan!”

“Harrington?” The cashier, a man not much older than you or Steve, looks up from the groceries. “Like, Steve Harrington?”

Steve tenses, and you feel instantly guilty for your dramatics. “Yup,” you say quickly. “I’m a big fan of his.” 

The man nods. “Me too. Heard he’s back in town for a bit.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“Yeah, but I mean, we probably won’t be seeing him around much,” he says matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders. Steve looks down as subtly as he can, hiding his face under the brim of his cap. “When you get that famous, you can’t just be going out in public like the rest of us. Poor dude would probably get mobbed.” 

“Probably,” you agree, smiling as you squeeze Steve’s hand in your grip. He sneaks his other hand to your waist where the cashier can’t see, pinching scoldingly at your side. “Wouldn’t want that.”

[paragonrobits]

Mizora: Wyll, listen here. I want you to find Karlach and either DESTROY her, or be destroyed BY her. Mizora, some character development later in a good playthrough where Wyll and Karlach are being flirty: SHIT. WAIT, NO, LET ME RETHINK MY WORDING, I DIDN'T MEAN LIKE THAT Wyll: Fun fact. Did you know the Armor of Agathys spell can be used... recreationally? If you're brave about it Mizora: ...I think I may need brain bleach Karlach: Oh fuck off! What's her problem anyway? Since when does SHE care about uncomfortable sexual implications, she's got that gross vamp thing going on. Wyll: Oh no, its not the sexuality that bothers her, that's the same kind of tool of degredation and control as a devil likes. I think its the trust, affection and genuine love that's given her some kind of allergic reaction Mizora: THE LOVE! THE SICKENING GROSS SENSE OF COMFORT, IT'S MAKING MY BONES ITCH SO BADLY THEY'RE GOING TO POP OUT OF MY SKIN Wyll: Mizora! You want to know something funny? The warlock spells come from YOU. I wouldn't be able to do that without your influence, so this is your fault Mizora: NO, I CAN'T BE ASSOCIATED WITH LOVE LIKE THAT, MY INFERNAL STREET CRED WILL BE BESMIRCHED, I WILL NOT BE THE NEXT FHJULL FORK-TONGUED

[sugudoe]

It is a FACT that men ONLY do romantic and sexual things with FEMALES and they ALWAYS will.

It is CANON geto is a MAN.

It is CANON geto ONLY does romantic and sexual things with FEMALES and he ALWAYS will.

let me say this for once so you stop sending me these stupid messages — i don’t give a single fuck. first, you’re an anonymous user repeating the same stupid text and only changing geto to gojo, you’re also someone in the middle of the fucking night who decided to send me this. tell me what the fuck did i do to deserve this? i laughed at first, but then i noticed, there is something wrong with you. it doesn’t fucking matter what canon says, i’m a writer blog, i make fucking fanfics, do you honestly think i care about canon when i create “x reader” type of shit?

i’m seriously thinking you’re confusing me with someone, because most of my works are fem!reader x them, but if you’re talking about when they are the background characters, then you better bet i’ll make them a couple, idgf what canon says, idgf what YOU say.

i could, also, show you the amount of evidence for satosugu, but your ass is deep in this nonsense shit — after all, it’s fictional characters and you are sending me shit ton of dumb texts trying to make me rethink if a character is gay or straight, so i’m not wasting more of my time with you, i tend to not want to argue with people i know wont change their minds, and i won’t change mine either, so get the fuck off, please.

if you don’t like that i make them a couple, if you think canon is more important, then stop interacting with satosugu accounts, how about that?

[bullshit-tqia]

i suppose i want to know why are trans people the demographic you’ve decided to go after so vehemently?

if you think trans people are predatory and evil, i think i sit right here as an example of that being false. i’m a 16 year old trans girl, who’s been forced back into the closet time and time again by transphobes. i’ve been raped once and physically beaten by groups of people four times, all for the crime of being a “sexual deviant” trying to invade women’s spaces or assault them. i was twelve. (i was raped in the boys’ bathroom, i have never made an effort to be allowed to use women’s bathrooms or locker rooms, etc, out of a combination of fear for my safety and concern for others’ comfort. i also haven’t used a public restroom besides the single-person disabled bathroom at my school since that day) am i still a predator simply by being transgender? and before you say someone indoctrinated me into being trans, i grew up in a house with transphobic and somewhat homophobic family, and i never even got to meet another trans person until i was 14, three years after discovering my transness

I don't buy the stories made by teenagers, just because I know teenagers have a tendency to make shit up to "win" an argument. Nothing about you as a person, just something I adhere to out of principle. I like evidence first and foremost. I am not a "believe all victims" kind of girl.

But there is one thing that makes me suspicious of what you say, and that is this contradiction:

"i’ve been raped once and physically beaten by groups of people four times, all for the crime of being a 'sexual deviant' trying to invade women’s spaces or assault them..." "i have never made an effort to be allowed to use women’s bathrooms or locker rooms..."

How can they beat you for something you never did? If you never made an effort to be in women's private areas, then they can't beat you for being in those areas. They can only assume that is your intention, but I feel like I would have to assume that this is what you mean, but I don't make assumptions out of principle. You need to clarify.

I was also raised by conservatives, but I still identified as transgender because of internet access at a young age. Irrelevant. Isn't it kinda weird that so much has changed since you were 11 and 16 but somehow this one thing has stayed the same? At 11 I wanted to be a teacher, at 16 I wanted to be an animator, at 21 I wanted to be a lawyer. So much changes in your teenage years but I feel like you've assumed that it is impossible for you to rethink your own identity or that it is impossible for your 11-year-old self to be wrong. Was I correct that I will become a teacher at 11? Yes. Imagine if I adhered to the same rigid thinking that it was inevitable that I would become a teacher just because I wanted to be one. That it was inherent in my identity.

Then when does that cross from being a legitimate identification of the self to a self-fulfilling prophecy? If you act under the assumption that you are destined to be a teacher, you will make decisions that will make this future more likely. You will pave your own path, meaning it was only determined to be so because you thought it was determined. If you stop thinking it is a determined future, it will stop being a determined future.

Of course, this comparison fails on multiple levels, but I am using it to tell you to allow yourself the flexibility to change your mind. Do what I refused to do at your age, stop identifying as female and stop thinking its "fate" and identify as a man in your own head for a few weeks. Just as a trial run. Do all the things you thought you had to do to think of yourself as female, like using a different name or set of pronouns for yourself internally, but for your biological sex. The point of this is to show that you're fulfilling your own prophecy and that once you get out of the habit of fulfilling the prophecy, the prophecy won't exist anymore.

I don't think children are predators unless they rape or assault someone. I think the same of many adult trans-identified males. I think a lot of them are insecure and disillusioned, nothing more. I'm not a radical feminist, I'm a southern conservative who identifies as gender critical.

[smartie-chan]

Me, in the authors notes of my last fic, knowing very well that I would write a Sequel no matter what: Maybe I'll write a part two :3 Who knows. The comments on my fic - and on here, thank you, I saw you!! - made me smile a lot. Back when I wrote my first ace!Robotnik fic, I didn't know if people would like it or not. There wasn't even an AO3 Tag for it.

But now I see a lot of ace Robotnik art flying around and it warms my heart.

Fun fact, I almost considered giving you sex-neutral Robotnik, because I have now experience with smut - kind of - but decided against it after all. Sorry if I got your hopes up.

Smartie, why do you have experience with smut, are you okay :O ????

Thanks for asking. I am. But a while ago, someone I'm not friends with anymore said some acephobic things towards me, claiming that the fact I wasn't capable of writing smut was weird. Like, clearly, other aces could write smut just fine. If writing smut repulsed me, then perhaps, I should consider rethinking my sexuality.

Which, first of all: Fuck you Karen. I don't see you writing smut either. And besides, it's not that it repulses me. It's just not appealing to me. And why should I be forced to write it anyways, if the characters I write are all just as sex-repulsed as I??? Seems like you were missing the point, honey. In fact, there is so much wrong with that notion, that it would take us hours to unpack all the problematic shit saying something like that implies.

Despite that and to prove a point, I went and wrote smut. No, you can not find it anywhere. Because I haven't posted it yet. I'm ... kind of unsure if I wanna orphan it or not. It's not Stobotnik, although I DID consider Stobotnik for my secret smut project. It's probably not realy good smut either. Which, you know, makes sense. I could probably improve if I wrote more and got feedback. But you see... writing that smut hasn't made me magically change my mind on the whole concept. Smut is still unappealing to me. So I doubt you'd see me explore that going forward.

That being said, I guess I kind of want someone to pressure me into releasing my horrible smut, lol. Because a part of me does want to know how BAD I actually did.

[tarabyte3]

Fic Updates

It's been a while soo....

I Want You to Show Me Weak — As I've stated before, there are only 2 chapters left in the entire fic. I'm going to be finishing both of them before I post chapter 26. Then I'll be posting chapter 27 the next day. Gonna end the fic with a bang 😏 I have everything outlined and thought out, I just have to finish writing it (I'm very excited about what I have planned/written for the final chapter, which includes the ending). Though I will admit, it's been difficult to write knowing I'll be saying goodbye to this story. I'll miss my boys SO much 😭, as well as this version of Kino x Reader, but I want to finish it for myself and for all of you! Besides, there's always the possibility of oneshots set in this universe in the future AND I'm not done writing for Kino. Not even close! I have no date estimate at the moment, but I'm trying to give this one my full attention so 🤞

The Devil Makes Us Sin — Once Show Me Weak is done, I'm going to give this one my full attention for a while. (Though, to be honest, even though I'm trying to focus on finishing Kino first, I still keep this document open and regularly pop in to write a paragraph or two. What can I say, David is VERY fun to write for 😏, I love him, and I must follow the serotonin). The next few chapters will be shorter so they should go quickly, and I already have around the next 4 of them half written (I actually have about ~25k of future stuff written last time I checked, including parts of chapters MUCH further down the road 😅).

Other Wips

While my focus has been on my ongoing stories, I do have a few other WIPs I have actual content written for! So here's an update on those as well. For fun.

Personal Trainer!Kino x Reader Modern AU — I have the beginning of this story and a few scenes written, and SO many notes for it. (My relationship with my trainer is fantastic. He's 50% big brother energy, 50% wingman energy, but he says THE most out of pocket shit so I immediately write it down after my sessions. Because him saying it does nothing for me, but imagining Kino saying it?? 😵‍💫🫠🥵) It will probably end up ~5 chapters total. Probably.

And Your Heart, Love, Has Such Darkness (David x Reader smutty Oneshot) — I started this one a year ago because I wrote something for TDMUS that didn't quite fit, but I liked it enough to keep it and make it its own thing. It's over half done right now, so it will likely be the next oneshot I post.

I Didn't Want to Hurt You, but You're Pretty When You Cry (Dark!David x Reader) — I think this one will end up about 3 chapters long and will contain a lot of content warnings. It's going to be more horror focused (with splashes of dark humor because I cannot help myself). I adore the opening chunk I've written. It gave me goosebumps.

Secret Andy Blorbo x Reader Oneshot — This one started as a joke on Discord about an Andy blorbo that is not only incredibly niche/unknown, but is actively not attractive (one of the very rare times Andy Serkis does nothing for me. In fact, when I see him, my vagina makes the windows shutdown noise). Except I made the mistake of saying, "I want to try to write for this character as a fun challenge just so I can sexually confuse everyone." And it, uh, spiraled from there and made me rethink my entire stance on this character (thank you for not only indulging me, Hannah, but encouraging me and giving me more ideas 💖 I loved [redacted] thirst day in TNBF)

Halsin x Tav — That's right, I'm writing for the sexy druid. It'll be 2 chapters, and it's about a third of the way finished. This Tav will be a human fighter, but is otherwise written more like a Reader Insert. (Side note: going back to 3rd person POV after writing a lot of 2nd person POV is harder than I imagined 🙃)

Paz Vizsla x Mando!Reader Oneshot — That's right, I'm also writing for the big Mandalorian. It's about a third of the way finished as well. (These last 2 are actually a little intimidating because the fandoms are MUCH larger, but I need to get them out sooo fuck it, it's happening.)

So as you can see, even though I haven't posted very much outside of Liam Black, I'm still writing a lot. Apparently I just have commitment issues and a lot of ✨thots✨ 😌💖

[lycorisx]

Im so sorry people are shit and sexualizing your art work. It really is like one of things "wtf am i suppose to reply with that" and people cannot be NORMAL!!!

Thankyou- yeah a lot of people are just strange. It’s a shame really because I’ve sort of had no choice but to distance myself a bit from making Hellsing artwork because I keep attracting the wrong people to my posts.

I’ve said this before but even ‘ship’ artwork I will refrain from drawing because I’ve seen mutuals be absolutely ripped apart for it online lol. People are brutal sometimes.

I’m not a prude person lol. I know that when people see like my Alucard artwork for example people comment stuff like idk ‘I want him to eat me’ and that’s totally fine because I know that’s 1. A compliment and 2. Them talking about the character lol.

I just have a problem when it involves minors in my artwork. Makes me uncomfy when people see artwork I’ve made of young Walter (the dawn, 14yrs old) and proceed to comment inappropriate stuff. Makes me rethink ever drawing young Walter again type of thing 🥸

Sorry for this long one but I appreciate your apology- but it’s not your fault dear. People are just gross :(