#like it feels like shit when it’s acting up and makes me feel like shit but also

[xavierfan]

more bre3ding/cr3amp1e p-links pls 🫣

warnings: sexual content below! p-links and sexually explicit descriptions are in this post

i genuinely don't know what to say anymore but this is sylus. on everyone's soul, THIS IS SYLUS

this one too

this too

sylus likes to fuck his seed back into you himself, he does so quite softly. it's an extremely intimate act when he does it, he's gentle and slow, and it's really not about possession to him. he just likes it— the warmth, the slickness, the sound, and the lewdness of it all.

> heavy breeding kink with no hints of possessiveness, he straight up just wants you to have his kid idfk. he would definitely say stuff like, "you're going to make a wonderful mother to our kids." / "kitten, one day you're going to get pregnant and i'm going to be so lucky." / "fuck, kitten, you want me to fuck my cum back into you, right? you want me to get you pregnant, right?"

idk why but this one gives me a caleb vibes

this one is also him

this one too

this too 😭😭😭

i keep adding caleb links im tweaking

caleb really enjoys watching his cum leak out of you. he would tease you, "pipsqueak, you're wasting it", as he just watches you squirm. to him, this is something akin to 'marking' you, walking up behind you later while out talking about, "think you're still leaky, pip."

> he's also probably got a crazy breeding kink mixed with a little —or a lot— bit of crazy obsession idfk, shit like "when your belly gets big, everyone's going to know who you belong to" / "one day i'm gonna get you pregnant" / "you'd look so good carrying my child, pips" / "if you let it all out, you'll hurt my feelings pips."

i think rafayel kind of goes feral once you let him cum in you... like he just keeps going idk

teasing him

rafayel is less breeding kink more crazy about you. loves anything to do with you, sex is not an exception, and he puts you on a pedestal a little differently to the rest of the boys. a bit like a mutt, you let him cum in you and suddenly he can't stop rutting into you, trying to chase another high.

> less breeding kink, more pathetic subby male who is so fucking excited to be fucking you. "fuck. fuck. fuck. 'm gonna cum again, please? please let me keep going?" / "princess, you feel soo good, please." / "princess, i'm sorry, let's keep going..." / "i'll be so good for you, princess, let me keep going."

sorry i know you specifically asked for breeding and i know this isn't but it still has cum ...

this is also zayne idk

zayne....

zayne rarely ever finishes inside of you, citing that it's not good for you, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to. idk how to explain it, he doesn't let himself finish inside of you because he's worried he'll lose self control.

> heavily likes the idea of breeding, like it probably takes everything in his body to not ram into you as he feels his balls squeeze, probably in your ear talking about "you'd look so beautiful pregnant." / "want to start a family with you." / "one day i'm going to get you pregnant, no need to worry." / "if you keep asking me to cum in you, i just might one day..."

i think xavier would like you fucking yourself with his cum... like shoving anything that comes out back inside

this one too

anotha one

xavier just wants to watch your fingers plug your hole up to prevent any more spillage. it brings a smile to his face to see how desperate you are to keep all of his seed inside of you, it probably gets him hard all over again prompting him to say something like, "don't worry, there's more where that came from."

> no specific breeding kink per say but likes the possessive element of pregnancy like caleb, "they'll know what we get up to at night." / "maybe when you're pregnant he'll stop coming up to you" / "want everyone to know how good you make me feel every night"

notes : i couldnt find that many links 😭😭😭 i've been searching all day so i'm sorry anon... pls forgive me... i hope the little blurbs makeup for the lack of links :(

[backtothefanfiction]

Sleep Talking | Joaquin Torres

Summary; Joaquin could never keep a secret.

Warnings: none, this is all fluff

A/N: I couldn’t sleep until I’d put something out so yeah, this is just a real quick short before bed kind of story. I’ll get back on my asks/wips/part 2s of stuff tomorrow. For now, enjoy this. Also sorry I haven’t done tags it’s late and I’m tired so hope this finds you fine.

You woke unable to breathe. “Ouch, Joaquin,” you grumbled as your mind and body slowly dragged itself from sleep.

“Huh?” He grumbled sleepily.

“Baby, you’re squishing me.”

“What?” he groaned, but you could tell he was only half awake.

“Roll over. You’re squishing me. And you’re making me feel like I’m sleeping with a freaking radiator. Jeez.” you moaned as he shifted slightly and you truly felt how stifling it had become under the covers.

“It’s not me. It’s you,” he sleepily grumbled. You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he grumbled another response. “No.” he said with a sigh as he rolled back over onto his back on his pillow. “It was you. I know you ate my sandwich.” he mumbled.

Sandwich? What was he- ohhh, he’s sleep talking.

You chuckled to yourself as you rolled over onto your side to watch him sleep. Every now and again his lips would silently move to talk again, but it was mostly silent. You were just about to close your eyes and go back to sleep when you heard the words, “Because I’m going to marry her.”

There was a pause as if he was listening to someone else speak before he said, “What do you mean who? Y/N who else. I’ve already got the ring. I’ve been keeping it in my underwear drawer for weeks now.”

You were suddenly wide awake. You didn’t know if it was just the dream or if there was some actual truth to it and his subconscious was bleeding through. But there was one thing for sure, you weren’t going back to sleep until you knew for sure.

You tried to be as quiet as you possibly could as you crept out of bed, reaching for your phone and turning on the torch. Your feet padded quietly across the floor as Joaquin continued to let out small little murmurs. Every tiny shift you made to open the drawer sounded like thunder in your ears and you desperately hoped he wouldn’t wake up and catch you in the act. You gave one last quick tug on the old dresser drawer and there it was. Barely concealed by a pair of underpants, a square blue box.

You stood frozen in agony as you warred with yourself over what to do. Did you look and ruin the surprise completely or did you pretend you didn’t know it was there and climb back into bed. But you couldn’t help it. Now you knew of its existence, it was going to be burning a hole in the back of your head. You just wanted to be sure he picked a good ring, you tried to reason with yourself. You could be a good actress. You could still look surprised. You tried to rationalise as your fingers pulled out the velvet box. I mean he’s asleep, he’s not gonna know. You thought.

“Baby? What are you doing?” Joaquin asked, his voice hoarse with sleep. You looked at him guiltily. This was no sleep talking, he was well and truly awake now, sitting upright in bed as his eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the light of your torch in the dim room. That’s when he looked at your hands. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed. “Baby, I- wait, how did you-“ he paused as you continued to stand at the end of the bed frozen. Then he realised. “I was sleep talking.”

“Yes.” you finally said softly.

He groaned in frustration. “My mom said I could never keep a secret. I just wished for once I could have kept this one.”

“It’s alright,” you said.

“Did you look?” he asked.

“Not yet.” you replied. Your answer brought a soft smile to his face and he silently beckoned you over to sit with him.

“You know, I was waiting to do this on that trip to New York we were gonna take in a couple of weeks.” he began to explain, “but I guess this is good too.” Although it was dark in the room, you could tell he was beginning to blush as he took the box from your fingers.

“Y/N,” he said as his fingers deftly removed the ring from the box before he set it to one side. He tucked the ring into his fingers so you couldn’t see it just yet before he shuffled closer to you to continue his speech. “I have been in love with you from the minute I laid eyes on you. You can ask any of the boys, the second I saw you I said, that’s her, that’s the girl I’m going to marry. And of course they didn’t believe me, but I knew. You’ve been there with me for everything. Every hard day. Every promotion. You were always there to be my light and cheer me on.” he said, his voice shaking slightly with nerves. “You make every single day of my life, so much brighter and I don’t ever want to think of a day when you don’t wake up by my side. Y/N, will you do me, the greatest honour of my whole life,” he said, finally holding out the ring to you. “Will you marry me?”

It may have been 4am. It may have been in the dark of the night and extremely unconventional, but it was Joaquin. And you were always going to say yes to Joaquin.

[sayangrafayel]

LADS react to you singing your heart out to a BREAK UP (RAGE) SONG!

Sometimes you can be in a happy and healthy relationship but damn those break up songs are just so good.. you know!? How would the boys react to finding you singing your heart out to the lyrics? 🎤

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb

Sylus

Just watch as I crucify myself for some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning! My God, love's embarrassing as hell! (Love Is Embarrassing - Olivia Rodrigo)

You and the twins and Mephi are jamming to the song singing along to it and having a little dance party.

"Sweetie...?" "Oh hi, Sy!" "What is happening here?"

The twins keep trying to scare him into thinking you're actually mad at him, when he finally clarified everything with you, the twins.. well, good luck for them. (Dw you will defend your boys so they won't face harsher punishment)

Xavier

If that was casual then I'm an idiot, I'm looking for an answer in between the lines, lying to yourself if you think we're fine. You're confused and I'm upset but we never talk about it.. (Sharpest Tool - Sabrina Carpenter)

You and Xavier were out with your work friends, you guys went to a karaoke bar. You were tipsy when Tara hands you a mic and tell you to sing so you just chose the song you currently like!

Xavier was silent the whole time you were on the mini stage, this happened before, you were tipsy and he picked you up from a bar and you told him how he makes you question everything.. (Xavier's Close Feelings tender moments)

But as you come down you gave him a little hug and smile and he gets reminded that it was in the past, way in the beginning of your relationship. Now, it's simply just a song you like. :)

Rafayel

Shout out to my ex, you're really quite the man. You made my heart break and that made me who I am! (Shout Out To My Ex - Little Mix)

He was in one of his boring and long meeting when he scrolled on his phone and see the video on your moment post.

He suddenly left without saying a word and rushed to you.

Called you, screaming and (crying) "HELLO? LAST TIME I CHECKED WE WERE STILL IN A HAPPY RELATIONSHIP!? I LEAVE FOR AN HOUR AND I'M YOUR EX NOW???"

Zayne

Is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together, so I can love you? Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything? Or do you just not want to? (Renegade - Big Red Machine, Taylor Swift)

When he heard you singing it his heart sank. What is happening. Why did you suddenly sing that? Did you relate to it? Did you feel that way about him? Did he make you feel that way?

He wanted to talk about it but he was scared of your answer. You weren't wrong. But you weren't right either. It was not anxiety that's stopping him from giving you everything...

He tried to show his affections in words and actions even more the next day and you were so confused, you ask him why and he explained that he's trying to be a better boyfriend, but you tell him he's been the best even before he tried to be more!

(I'm so sorry Zayne girlies the hurt/comfort just felt right here)

Caleb

Tell me how's it feel sittin' up there? Feeling so high but too far away to hold me? You know I'm the one who put you up there. Name in the sky, does it ever get lonely? Thinking you could live without me! (Without Me - Halsey)

He saw you singing your heart out during a karaoke on your friends' moment post.

"Sorry, have I been away too much? I should fly back and see you more often, I'm so sorry, honey..."

Drowns you in gifts and of course that forgiveness for Caleb coupon is gonna come out too. You were so confused as to why your boyfriend is acting this way.

[patchworkideas]

I have a folder named 'Story Ideas' in my home system, for easy access.

In there, I have a folder for each fandom that I write in.

If a Wip stays a one shot or only an idea post it stays in the general fandom folder it belongs to - with AUs and Crossovers in the fandom that uses the characters or has the biggest influence.

If it grows it becomes it's own folder. If I already know the future name at that point it will be named that, otherwise it gets a descriptor that stays even after it has a name. (example: My 'Coming Forth By Day' Story is still in a folder called Subnautica AU in the Yu-Gi-Oh Folder.)

The chapters are neatly named 'Chapter 1' or 'Chapter 1-6' etc, depending on how frantically I was writing. If it got written in one file it stays in one file. (This became more common since I started dictating, where i need to check for dictation errors before I can close a file (to listen to my own voice to check) and often new ideas are howling to be given voice before the check for the prior one is finished.)

Most bigger stories with their own folder also get a subfolder called notes.

That's the danger folder, where the wild things go and nothing is safe or certain. I have doubles, often actually writen or rewritten notes, sometimes removed scenes or whole removed chapters. Notes in order and notes very much not, in whatever order they came to me or I thought they fit best.

The notes folder is the depth of my mind and very often contains a multitude more words than actual make it into the story. (Long Way Around is an extreme example - by the time I had 10k posted, I hit over 100k in notes for everything still to come. Something that has been invaluable for me as I continued writing it these past years. It's been slow going but it's allowed me to keep the plot for these last 3 chapters i still have to write after almost 4 years now. Though there's a lot more to edit and polish before we get close to posting those even once they're finally written, since I hiatused to ensure I don't drop one of the myriads of threads I'm weaving together in the critical third act.)

I love writing, and I lost so much in the chaos of not having it organized in the past. So now it is.

.... Don't look on my PC where I do most of my drafting via dictation though. There's a folder called 'transferred to phone' for everything I already copied over to my phone. My phone has fandom folders but no notes, big stories are only told apart by name + chapter number. I then send the draft from my phone via different email addresses to my tablet, where all the notes and edits etc happen. *That* is where I'm organized in the above fashion.

... There and in a dedicated backup drive where I copy my tablet files to - admittedly not as often as I should. But even if I lose edits someday I at least know that I'll never lose the original draft.

Which makes it much easier to edit without abandon since the original never lost if I fuck something up beyond recognition during editing. Or in case of technical issues, obviously.

Backups are important, doubly so for anything creative.

... And I still manage to lose track of small ideas because each fandom folder usually has a shit ton of those small idea files that never become a full blown story.

And I still very much enjoy reading through those occasionally and enjoying the diamonds in the rough, those I forgot and those I didn't.

I love writing, and I love my stories. <3

Edit: And now, after actually checking, since I didn't want to risk tumblr eating my post, I realize that for some unfathomable reason I forgot to set up the fandom folder system that I have literally been using for over a decade on my tablet - probably because I figured 'I love this new fandom! I'm going to write for nothing else ever again!' when I did it. *sigh* It always feels like that, it never is X-D

So the majority of everything has the fandom name in the title, aka 'Subnautica Yu-Gi-Oh'. The handful that don't I'll need to rename at some point and finally sort everything into folders as it should have been...

And what was i thinking when i wrote my game fandom stories in the gaming folder - which does have the 'fandom/game name' folder system at least! And I usually do back those up too, since my game notes are also fun (and just as long, looking at my +100k Oxygen Not Included notes...). And I suppose some of these are stories to help me remember what happened last...

But they're still stories, and I wonder if I'll remember to check for stories in 'Games' someday 🤔

Sigh. I have a very specific order in my head. It doesn't always make it onto the page. Kinda like in writing. But it's otherwise still as described above and I'm very proud of it.

only sort of related to the wip meme that's going around, i'm curious, now: how do you, personally, organise your wips?

this does not feel like a poll kind of situation—it's a 'just reply or reblog and add to the body of the post' kind of deal. please feel free; i'm genuinely curious.

[luvst4rc0r3]

“Drunken courage”

Sevika x reader

The Last Drop was loud, chaotic, and reeking of sweat, smoke, and bad decisions—just the way Sevika liked it. After the argument earlier, she’d needed space, a drink, and a place where no one expected her to talk.

So, there she was, nursing a glass of something strong, letting the background noise swallow her frustration.

Then you walked in.

Sevika froze, her grip on her drink tightening. Shit.

She thought you’d gone home. After all, you were the one who told her to leave—yelling, pacing, getting that little crease between your brows that meant you were beyond mad. Sevika hadn’t fought back much; she knew when to pick her battles, and tonight, she’d chosen to retreat.

And now, here you were, looking like trouble.

You marched straight to the bar, ordered something way too strong, then downed it like you were trying to set your insides on fire. You didn’t even notice her at first. Just strode up to the bar, ordered a drink, then another… then another. Sevika wasn’t even sure what had you so pissed off anymore. It had started over something small, but like all fights with you, it had spiraled into something bigger. You were mad, she was mad, and neither of you were ever good at backing down.

Sevika sighed, rolling her shoulders. She should’ve left before you saw her.

But she didn’t.

She stayed.

And the second you turned your head, your gaze landed on her.

For a moment, you just blinked. Then your expression twisted into something fiery, familiar.

“You!” you slurred, pointing dramatically. “You absolute, thick-headed, stubborn-ass—do you even hear yourself when you talk?! Do you think before you open your damn mouth?!”

Sevika exhaled through her nose, tilting her glass back. “Here we go.”

“No, no, don’t ‘here we go’ me!” You stumbled forward, eyes blazing, hands moving like you were trying to swat at invisible problems. “You—ugh, you drive me insane, Sevika! Do you even—do you even hear yourself when you talk? You think you’re all big and bad and—gods, you’re so stubborn! And—and frustrating! And—ugh!”

The Last Drop had never been this quiet.

Every gambler, every drinker, every brawler who had ever seen Sevika knock a man out cold with a single punch… was now witnessing you, standing in front of her, absolutely going off like she was some rookie enforcer who’d just tripped on their own billy club. every brawler who had ever seen Sevika destroy men twice her size… was now watching her sit there, completely still, as you unleashed all your fury on her.

And she just took it.

Didn’t argue. Didn’t roll her eyes. Didn’t tell you to shut up.

She just sat there, letting you get it all out, watching you with something… soft in her gaze.

“You always act like you don’t care, but then—then you do these little things,” you accused, voice wavering. “Like making sure I get home safe. Or bringing me food when I forget to eat. Or—gods, Sevika, you act like you don’t give a damn, but I know you do!”

“You always have to act like you’re the biggest, baddest bitch in the room, but when it comes to us? You run!” you accused, hands flailing in exasperation. “Oh, I need to be alone. Oh, I don’t have time for feelings—Sevika, if you don’t want this, just say it! Just—just say you don’t care and I’ll stop wasting my damn time!”

Your voice cracked, and Sevika’s jaw clenched. She wanted to reach for you, but she knew better. You weren’t done yet.

“I—” Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard. “I just don’t get it. If you want me, just say it. If you don’t, then—then let me go. But stop acting like you can just walk away and I won’t care, because I do, Sev. I care too much and it sucks.”

You were almost crying by the time you finished, eyes glassy, shoulders tense. The silence stretched between you both, thick enough to choke on. Around you, waiting to see what would happen.

Silence.

The whole bar was watching. Hell, they’d stopped pretending not to.

Sevika sighed, slow and heavy, before pushing herself up from her seat.

You immediately stiffened, like you expected her to storm off. Maybe you even wanted her to.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she stepped forward, closing the space between you, her human hand reaching up to cup your jaw. Her thumb brushed over your cheek—so, so gentle.

“Of course I want you,” she murmured. “I thought that was obvious.”

You blinked up at her, lips parting, but no words came out.

“You’re drunk.”

Your hands balled into fists. “No shit, genius.”

“And you’re gonna regret this in the morning.”

“I regret you,” you shot back, still fuming.

Sevika let out a sharp exhale through her nose—was that a laugh? Oh, that just made you madder.

“I hate you,” you grumbled, crossing your arms like a petulant child.

Once her laugher died down she exhaled softly. “I’m not good at this,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, just for you. “Talking. Feeling. I don’t know how to say the right things, and I don’t want to screw this up, so… yeah. I left. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Your bottom lip wobbled slightly, and Sevika had to fight every instinct to just pull you into her arms right then and there.

“You done yelling at me?” she teased, the corner of her lips twitching up just the slightest bit.

You let out a breathy, exhausted laugh. “No. But I’m tired.”

Sevika huffed, shaking her head before wrapping an arm around you. “C’mon,” she muttered, steering you toward the door. “Let’s get you home before you start crying in front of a bunch of thugs.”

You grumbled something into her shoulder, but let her lead you out, letting yourself lean into her warmth.

“You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning, and I really don’t feel like dealing with your hungover whining.”

And as the doors of The Last Drop swung shut behind you, the whispers and bets started.

“Never thought I’d see her get chewed out like that.”

“Yeah? And live to tell the tale?”

“Man, she’s so whipped.”

IM TRYING TO COMPLETE REQUESTS AND MANAGE HOMEWORK😭

I NEED SLEEP RN I AM DEPRIVED OF IT

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

✧. 🐍 TITS, ASS OR THIGHS?

If Zayne and Caleb had to choose, it would be thighs—every damn time.

Caleb was the type to act casual about it, but the way his hands never left your thighs told a different story. Sitting next to him? His fingers would be tracing idle circles against your skin, squeezing just enough to make you shift in place. Laying in bed? He’d have his head resting on them, kissing the soft flesh like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. But it was when you were wrapped around him, legs locked tight around his waist, that his obsession really showed.

“Fuck, pipsqueak,” he’d groan, grinding deep into your pussy as his cock throbbed inside you. “You tryin’ to trap me here? Keep me buried in this pretty cunt?” His fingers dug into the plushness of your thighs, holding them open so he could watch himself slide in and out of your soaked heat. Every thrust had him panting, gaze flicking down to where his cock stretched you, glistening with your slick. “Shit—these thighs, baby. I could cum just from feeling ‘em squeeze me like this.”

Zayne, on the other hand, didn’t just love your thighs—he was fucking obsessed with them. He'd never admit it outright, but the way he grabbed, bit, and marked them told you everything you needed to know. If you so much as tried to close them around him, he'd slap them apart with a sharp smirk, watching you jolt.

“You think you get to keep these from me?” he’d sneer, his cock already pressing against your dripping slit. He’d spread your thighs wide, staring at your clit twitching with need before dragging the thick head of his cock along it, teasing. “Nah, sweetheart. These thighs are mine.” And when he finally slammed into you, he’d growl at the way they quivered, his fingers bruising your soft flesh. “Fuck—look at ‘em, shaking already. You like this? You like when I use your thighs to keep you nice and open for me?”

Caleb worshipped them. Zayne ruined them. And both of them made sure they were covered in cum by the time they were done.

If Xavier and Rafayel had to choose, it would be ass—no hesitation.

Xavier acted like he didn’t have a preference, like he was too composed to be caught up in something so simple. But the second you turned around? His sharp blue eyes were locked on your ass, jaw tightening like he was barely holding himself back. And when he had you beneath him, pressed into the mattress, he didn’t bother pretending anymore.

“Look at this,” he muttered, gripping the plush curve of your ass with both hands, spreading you open just to watch your pussy clench around nothing. “Bet you love teasing me with this—walking around like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.” His cock was already leaking, thick and aching as he dragged it against your soaked slit, teasing your clit before pushing in slow. His grip tightened as you arched, forcing you to stay in place while he sank in to the hilt. “Yeah… this is what you wanted, huh?” His voice was low, smug, but his fingers trembled where they dug into your flesh. “Wanted me to fuck you so deep you feel me in your stomach?”

Rafayel was the opposite—he didn’t bother hiding how obsessed he was. The moment he got his hands on your ass, he was squeezing, grabbing, leaving marks with his nails and teeth. He’d groan every time you rode him, watching the way your ass bounced with each drop of your hips. But what really drove him insane was taking you from behind, one big hand pressing down on the small of your back, the other kneading your ass like he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, slamming his cock into your soaked pussy, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. “Shit—this ass was made for me.” His fingers spread you wider, watching the way his cock disappeared inside you, coated in slick. "Gonna fill you up—gonna make you cum just from me using you like this." His thrusts turned rougher, desperate, and he groaned when your walls clenched tight. “Yeah, that’s it—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum all over this pretty ass, aren’t you?”

Xavier liked to tease. Rafayel liked to claim. Either way, your ass was theirs, and they made sure you knew it.

If Sylus had to choose, it would be tits—without question.

From the moment his hands first cupped them, Sylus was hooked. He wasn’t shy about it either—whenever he had the chance, his palms were kneading, thumbs teasing over your nipples just to see you shiver. He loved how soft they felt against his calloused fingers, how they looked when they were spilling out of your clothes, how your breath hitched when he kissed down your neck and nipped at the sensitive skin. But what really drove him insane? Having them pressed against his face, his mouth worshiping every inch.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lips already wrapping around a hardened nipple, sucking slow and deep while his other hand massaged the plush curve of your breast. “So fucking perfect—made just for me, huh?” His cock was already hard, throbbing against your slick heat, but he was too lost in the way your body arched for him, the way your clit twitched when he rolled a nipple between his fingers. “Look at you,” he murmured, breaking away just enough to admire the way your tits bounced with every needy grind of your hips. “You like this, don't you? Letting me suck on you while I stretch this pussy open?”

When he finally pushed inside, he groaned at the way your walls squeezed him, your body trembling as he filled you. His mouth went straight back to your tits, licking and sucking like he was desperate, his pace slow but deep, making sure every thrust rubbed against that perfect spot inside you. “Fuck—gonna make you cum just from this,” he muttered, voice rough as his cock dragged against your clit with every grind. “Gonna fill you up, have you milking my cock while I suck these pretty tits dry.”

Sylus didn't just love your tits—he worshiped them. And he made damn sure you knew it.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[ovaryacted]

i wish you would write a fic where clint kidnaps you and takes you on a crime filled cross country roadtrip where you slowly start to fall in love with him and become his lover in crime 🙂‍↕️

LEVERAGE

─ Clint! x fem! reader || WC: 1.8k

CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUTTY. Age gap implied [Clint is canon age, reader is 25+]. Mentions of kidnapping. Violence. Murder. Hitman! Clint. Clint is not a bad guy. He just does bad shit. Scammer boyfriend (booo). Murder Daddy to the max. Sexual tension. Flirting. Pet-names. Praise Kink. Lewd thoughts/fantasizing. Masturbation (from reader). Light handjob. Some tummy love cause I fucking said so. Possible Stockholm Syndrome? Not strict to canon.

You sneaky little bitch (I say this with love). Now you know damn well I'm already writing something official for Clint, but because I love you prima, I'm gonna entertain you for a bit cause I couldn't resist this ask. I wrote this in one day hella sleep deprived, you better fawking like it. (I know you will 🤫) Fyi, this is very different to what I usually write, but I still hope it's enjoyable for some because I had fun doing this. Proofread by moi. <3

You didn’t know how you got yourself in this situation. Well you did, but you were still trying to put the pieces together, to find what would click in this narrative of fuckery you found yourself in.

You had a feeling your boyfriend wasn’t the world class act he tried to be for you. Surely, it had to be a facade with the way he managed to take you out on nice dates and pay for extravagant gifts you felt guilty about having to begin with. He was charming, treated you with a kindness and consideration that was fairly unheard of with your prior partners. It was working too well, and in this fairytale you lived, the nagging voice of guilt harshly tugged on your intuition the longer you thought of the what ifs. What if this wasn’t what it seemed?

It was all a matter of time until your impenetrable bubble of safety finally popped.

On your way home after a night out with some friends, the heavy weight of a palm forced its way over your mouth as you were dragged into a dark alley. You tried screaming, licking and biting at the assailant’s hand to break free from their grasp, but it was no use. The click of a gun pressed to your temple sent your blood running cold, standing fearfully ridgid with tear-filled eyes, praying to whatever higher power was listening to ensure you’d make it back home.

“If you quit your squirming and listen to me, this will go by a lot faster, darling.” The stranger behind you rasped in your ear, his voice raspy and deep, pulling at chords deep inside you. “Now, you be a good girl and tell me where your fucking boyfriend is.”

The best thing for you to do was cooperate right? At the time, you thought it was. Your assailant gave you some of the details with your sight obscured thanks to the thick bag over your head; the gag over your mouth and your wrists tied to your back didn’t help either; keeping you in place in the backseat of this man’s car. Had you known that your boyfriend was in some bad business with a couple of people, you probably would’ve rethought ever agreeing to meet him at a bar for drinks on your first date. A debt went unpaid for too long and pissed off the wrong crowd, and now they were back to get their payment.

The car came to a sudden stop, halting at what you assumed was your boyfriend’s home. Breath hitching in your throat, you heard another click, and then a sigh.

“Stay right here, and don’t move. I’ll think about letting you go when I come back.”

A car door opened and closed, an eerie silence filled the space around you, fine tuning your ears to make out anything you might pick up. You don’t know how long you were sitting in the backseat for, bag over your head and worst case scenarios ruminating through your mind. A jolt coursed through you when the car shifted with movement, a presence felt right next to you instead of further up in the driver’s seat.

The bag was lifted abruptly, seeing your kidnapper face to face. You were met with chocolate brown eyes and slicked back hair, curling at the nape of his neck. Studying his face, you noticed the scar he had that started from his cheek and crossed over to the bridge of his aquiline nose. The splatter of blood tainting his stubbled cheek and neck also weren’t missed by your sight, spending longer than necessary watching his hands, bloody fingers tightly wrapped around the base of his gun.

“Now this can go one of two ways,” the man started, keeping his piercing gaze on your perceiving one. “Either, I kill you right now, and you can join your little boytoy. Or, I take you with me, and you can keep me entertained while I do my work. What’s it gonna be, darling?”

You figured you really didn’t have any other choice but to go with him, accepting your doomed fate with a spiked pulse and unsteady breath. The toothy grin the man gave you stirred something deep within you, a disturbed shiver rolling down your back at the implications of what he had in store for you.

He goes by the name Clint, so you’ve come to learn, and despite his menacing appearance, he was anything but aggressive towards you. He refrained from ever laying a hand on you, keeping you in close proximity to him as he handled whatever jobs he had to take care of. He was considerate enough to keep you fed, to offer you a bed and a shower in the motels he rents for nights where he plans on doing stakeouts.

Clint wouldn’t spare you a glance the first time you two shared a room together, gripping your wrists harshly when you tried to slap him once he undid your restraints. You failed miserably in your attempt to hurt him, and the promised threat he barked back at you with his knife by your neck was enough to shut you up then and there. There was always the looming threat of what you knew he had the capacity of doing, and you didn’t know where to draw the line between suspicion and inquiry.

Clint never spoke about what he did to your boyfriend—ex boyfriend now, but you knew enough to fill in the gaps. From the way he proficiently cleans his pistol as you curiously watch him from afar, he knows how to use his hands. Whether that be with his weapon of choice or washing the leftover crimson from his flannel shirts, you could tell he was rather…dexterous.

The days on your journey with Clint had started to blur together, and with it, the anxiety of your impending death ebbed away. He had spared you early on, deciding it would be easier to keep you around, a sight for sore eyes, his primarily despite never admitting to it outloud. Whenever he went to complete a job, he’d leave you back at the motel he rented for the night, securing the place so you wouldn’t be able to escape his grasp. At times, he’d still find it a surprise when you would be right where he left you, either taking a nap on one of the cheap beds, or trying to find something to do in the small space.

Along the way, you stopped fighting him, the initial panic that festered inside you evolved into something else. A gnawing urge; a hunger. It started with the faint looks, the ones you would steal when Clint was occupied doing something else. Checking a map, counting bills, putting bullets in the magazine of his gun. He made you nervous, in a way that took over your mind when you were left alone, restless nights spent dreaming about your captor who slept on the other side of the room.

The memories of your previous lover were steadily replaced with fantasies of a stranger, all menacing and rugged around the edges, a mysterious allure that drew in your attention every time your eyes met his. The conversations between you began to flow easier, he was teaching you how to take his gun apart and put it back together again, praising you after you finally got it right.

“That’s it, baby. I bet you can do that again for me, right?”

It came to a point where you intentionally looked for his recognition, his husky compliments rushing through your head, and slithering down between your thighs. Your hands did the same when Clint was gone for the day, slipping to the center of you and rubbing the slick pearl that’s been tense and pulsing for too damn long. In the haze of your consciousness, you wondered what it would feel like if it was his calloused hands on you, his tongue tasting you, the length of him carving room for himself in your cunt as he claimed you the way you wanted.

You couldn’t take the strain anymore.

Clint had just come back from another job well done, his duffle full of wads of cash and his knuckles bruised. He offers you a grin and a sly wink, handing you the bag and mumbles that he’s taking a shower. You let him go with a hum, having half a mind to join him, but you knew better than to make the first move now.

He didn’t spend too long washing off the grime from his long day of work, popping out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. A trail of steam followed him as he stepped out, water dripping down his broad chest and his hair slicked all the way back. You didn’t realize you were blatantly staring at him until Clint turned to face you, the scar on his face stretching with his grin.

“Something caught your eye, bunny?” he was cocky when he called you by your pet name, and you were equally as predatory when your lips tugged upwards with a nod.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you flap your lashes as he saunters towards you, the hint of a mischievous glare reflected in his brown irises. His fingers come to pinch your chin, his thumb encroaching on your bottom lip, staring down at you with a newfound lust. You leaned forward, testing your limits and lightly kissing a spot under his belly button, nuzzling the hair that lined his lower belly. You could feel the rumble of his groan vibrating through him, leaving more kisses over his wet skin.

A sneaky hand moved up his thigh, squeezing tentatively at the thick muscle you felt twitching under your touch. Glancing up at him, you carefully reached for the towel wrapped around him, tugging it out of your way and revealing himself to you. His cock, thick and heavy, bobbed in front of you, your mouth watering at the sight, craving the heavy weight of him on your tongue.

His palm moved to cradle the back of your head, a gentle tug of your hair brought your attention back to his face. Your glassy sight landed on his dark ones, black engulfing brown until there was nothing left but the void of his carnal appetite.

“How about you show me some of that appreciation you’re long overdue for, hm?”

Your eyes gleamed at his suggestion, his length twitching the minute you grabbed a hold of him, jerking him with a flick of your wrist in gentle motions and placing a kiss on his tip with a playful smile.

It may have been the end of your old life the minute Clint snatched you up, but you think your new way of living has much more to offer.

©️ ovaryacted 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[isaisliterallyhim]

heyyyy love your fics <333

can you do sugar daddy Kaiser who's always been rude and rough with reader but one day when he realises he's falling in love with them he's really gentle, asking how they feel and praising them? if possible can you do fluff along with nsfw???

ahh hii anon!! thank uu i appreciate ur words <33 anywayss i love the plot ohh gosh ygs r so creative omg

"And all I wanna do is stay with HER"

ft. michael kaiser . sugar daddy! kaiser . ooc! kaiser lol... . ness is in the story omg! . is ness ooc! too... . yes ness is ooc asw . character development.? . eventual smut . sex gulp... . piv ! . afab! reader . mistreated! reader ... . fluff asw . unreliable narrator

wc: 1.0k

"she's annoying." kaiser grumbled, taking a sip of wine. ness looked at him, "[name] cares about you that's why." the magician tried to lighten the mood. clearly, it didn't work.

"she just wants fucking money." he retorted. ness frowned, "can't you look at it in a positive way.? at least she's trying. take a look at all the others you've had."

that sentence had kaiser reflecting for a bit. "huh. i suppose you have a point for once, ness." the prodigy felt himself get a little flushed. "you're treating her so rough, how often does she even ask for money.?" ness continued. "don't be so harsh man! she's trying..."

the emperor tsked. "if she's so 'perfect' you take her then." he grumbled. jeez this guy is really helpless man... ness looked at kaiser disgusted for the first time.

"keep acting like that and she's bound to become who you think she really is." ness thought as he picked himself up and left kaiser to his thoughts.

later within the night, kaiser found himself scrolling through your photos after sending you some money (oh need that.) it hit him you were gorgeous. pretty face with a kind heart.. he was going to go insane.

the more he scrolled the more he admired your beauty. you radiated an aura that he just couldn't place his finger on. perfection was a word too vague to describe it.

shaking his head, he set his phone down. hands on his head, he was wondering. what the literal hell was he doing.? all he's ever done was treat you like shit because he had such horrendous experiences with others.

i mean, you were like the others. you were just there for the money... and attention i guess. but there was something more to it. he was just to blind to see it. (tf r ur glasses for mihya bro.)

it was late — hella late. 2:32 A.M.? there's no way you'd come over right? so what the heck were you doing at his door in a matter of moments?

kaiser opened his door, surprised. "you — you actually came?" he asked, somewhat in disbelief. "i'm right here aren't i, dumbass.. plus you called." you shrugged.

the satin on the bed somewhat wrinkled as the both of you sat down. "um, so why'd you want me to come ove-" you were quickly interrupted by an apology. "[name], liebling. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for my behaviour, how i treated you. scheiße, i'm so fuckin' sorry."

he held your visibly smaller and softer hands. his hands feeling quite the opposite. you were kinda a dumbass, "wha — michael huh...?" you shook your head giggling, "what are you apologizing for?"

his gorgeous blue eyes stared into yours. "don't act coy with me, [name]. you don't need to forgive me. i'll do whatever for your forgiveness. please. do you want more money? gifts.? flowers..? wha.. god. what do you want?!" kaiser asked desperately.

you looked at him with a deadpan expression. god, has this man ever been treated alright.? "mihya, i don't really want anything. yea i mean i love money i mean — who doesn't love money. but i'm not here solely because of money." you sighed.

"yes, you have money is definitely a positive trait but, you have more to it. money isn't the only thing that makes you lovable." you continued to ramble. his hands released yours. you were caught in his embrace.

"mihya.?" you whispered. kaiser knew how scary it was to love someone. the amount of devotion you must give. the time and effort. one wrong move? it could all crumble.

his embrace got tighter, you were tensing a little bit up. was he gonna beat you like what the heck is goin' on?! he knew you were always running away from love, 'cause your daddy never gave you enough :((

hey, same for him as well, no? "meine liebe." kaiser breathed, "let's try again together. i'm done with the 'you deserve better' bullshit. i have the choice to be better and i'm taking it."

he loosened his embrace on you, hands on your shoulders. you met his gaze. all it could scream was blue of desperation. not going to even lie, most dedication you've seen in your whole life.

you were still skeptical — hell, i can't blame you! you've been mistreated all the time by partners, getting taken advantage of... what change is this rich and attractive man going to do? he has the money, the women ugh... thinking about it made your head hurt.

"what do you say, liebling. let me show you.?" he leaned in, mumbling into your ear. hah! as if you'd believe what he said and give him a chance.

kaiser would be lying if he said he didn't regret making up with you earlier. he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss you. hell! every bit of fiber within him missed you! his lips on yours, oh gosh. he's going crazy. :c

a little while after what was supposed to be a sweet make out, he found himself aligning his tip to your slit. you had glossy eyes as you stared back up at him. he had you pinned onto the bed...

"are you sure?" he asked stroking your stomach, his hands then tracing your curves. "fuu-uck. you're perfect." he mumbled. you nodded in response.

as he buried his length into your warmth he swore he got sent to heaven. "sh-shit.. scheißescheißescheiße...! please you're made for me..." he continued, his lips once more pressed onto yours.

nah, at this point his cock was stretching your opening... it hurt. kaiser broke off the kiss as he groaned, "you take me so damn well.. i'm sorry for being so horrid to you."

you were practically crying, was it cause the sex was good? cause of kaiser? you didn't know! "m-hya.." you sobbed out so sweetly. it was kaiser's last straw.

your walls were sucking his member in man..! how could he not..? your noises could kill him oh gosh! one last thrust and his length was kissing your womb :c "i'm sorry meine liebe, i-" the emperor didn't even get to finish his sentence as he finished in you <3

he pulled out just to push his fingers back in. admiring your form and expression. maaaan, kaiser couldn't ask for a better girl >< dawn came, so did kaiser, 'cept he n you came multiple times :3 kaiser could make it better. all he needed was just one more day with ya.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags !! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc

a/n: hey guys.. hey anon.. guess who's finally back heh... my writers block actually fried me so bad its diabolical man.. yes i lost motivation half way along w the plot tbf i had this in my drafts for 2 weeks or smth... i'm so sorry if this wasn't what y'all wanted ill cook for the future ones ;-; not proofread btw good GAWDDDD if kaiser was my sugar daddy man.. money and hes hot YES PLSS (no im nawt shallow but tuition fees are booty bro yall cant blame me.) yes this is all yap ALL MY NOTES ARE YAP OK </3 but um.. yay ilygs a lot mwa mwa <3

[inlovewithpandora]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ When you and JJ are having a heated argument, going back and forth about something stupid, you’re tired of talking so you think of the perfect idea to shut him up: flashing your tits in his face.

Music Advisory — Featuring: JJ Maybank // fem!reader, light angst [slight arguing], light teasing, smutty descriptions/mentions [breasts, titty fucking, implied p in v], flashing [from reader] very suggestive ending, usage of pet names

Duration — 1.0k words

Words from Artist — This is the first time I’ve written for JJ so I’m excited for you all to be reading this! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I enjoy reading y’all reactions and would love to hear your thoughts <3

Current Platforms — main m.list・obx taglist・navigation

The argument started over something stupid, something neither of you will probably even remember tomorrow but currently JJ’s standing in front of you, red-faced and fuming, hands on his hips as he runs his mouth about something you could honestly care less about. “You always do this!” he accuses, blue eyes blazing with fire. “You push and push, and then when I call you out, you act like—like I’m the crazy one!”

You scoff, not believing JJ is trying to make it seem like you’re the crazy one. “Oh, I’m the crazy one? JJ, you’re the one yelling like a lunatic over—what was it again? Me going to that party with Sarah?”

“Yeah, that damn party with Sarah!” JJ repeats with emphasis, throwing his arms in the air, pacing like he’s about to wear a hole in the floor. “You know damn well there was gonna be trouble there with those kooks, but do you care? Nope! You just do whatever the hell you want!”

You roll your eyes, not appreciating his attitude or tone of voice. “Oh my God, JJ, it was just a party. I wasn’t walking into a war zone.”

“You might as well have!” He turns around to face you again, frustration practically radiating off him. “You know how crazy those parties get! And when shit hits the fan, guess who’s gotta deal with it? Me!”

You’re so done with this argument now, you’ve practically checked out and just let JJ argue with himself. His protectiveness is sweet. You love that he wants to make sure you're safe at all times and out of harm's way but right now, his concern is just annoying when the party wasn't even that bad.

The fact that he looks ridiculously good all riled up and upset isn’t helping. While your eyes are focused on his large callous hands waving in the air, imagining how they would feel for his palms to roam your body, an idea pops in your head. A terrible, impulsive, yet perfect idea that’ll make him shut up, carry you to the bedroom, and put you through the mattress.

“Jayj.”

“What?”

With his attention fully focused on you, without a second thought, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lift it, flashing him mid-sentence. When his eyes hone in on your round, plump breasts, JJ completely freezes up. His mouth hangs open, his train of thought derailing so fast it’s almost comical. His hands, which had been wildly gesturing a second ago, drops to his sides like his brain had short-circuited.

You bit back a smirk, enjoying watching his eyes dart down, then up, then down again. JJ’s is definitely a tits type of guy, he’s practically obsessed with yours and loves giving them his attention whether that’s in the bedroom when your having sex, when you both are cuddling and he wants to use them as a pillow, or coming up to you and giving them a light squeeze just because.

JJ’s still standing there, looking like you’d just knocked the wind out of him. “Are you—” His voice cracks, trying to reframe his thoughts. “Did you just—?”

“Did i just flash my tits in your face? Yes, I did.” You say smugly while letting your shirt fall back down, feeling proud of how one look at your breasts and he’s practically lost for words.

“That’s—that’s dirty.” he mutters, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear his mind and ignore the strain that’s forming against his pants. Then, as if remembering why he was mad in the first place, he straightens up, his expression going. “But that doesn’t change the fact that—”

You sigh dramatically, not understanding why he’s still running his mouth about the same topic. You realize that you have to crank things up a notch, do something that you know will shut him up for good. You move closer until you are right in front of him, your voice dropping to something teasing and sweet. “JJ,” you interrupt, tilting your head with a sly smirk dancing across your lips. “Do you really wanna keep running your mouth about some dumb party or you wanna come show your girls some love?”

When your boyfriend watches you pull your shirt up for the second time, putting your breasts on display and swaying your chest lightly, causing them to move in the wind, his breath hitches. His jaw clenches like he wants to stick to his argument, but with the warmth stirring in his groin, his cock aching, begging to fuck your tits until his cum spills onto your flesh, he decides to put the argument on hold and accept your alluring invitation.

“You fight dirty, princess.” He grumbles, his hands cupping your breasts, running his thumbs over your hardened nipples, making a soft whine come from your lips. “You think flashin’ those pretty tits in my face is gonna get you out of trouble?” He says with a heated tone, dipping his head so his lips hover just over yours. “Nah, sweetheart. That just earned you some.”

Before you can react, JJ bends slightly, gripping your thighs and hoisting you up against him, making your breasts press against his chest. You yelp, your hands flying to his shoulders, clinging to him while he’s already walking, carrying you toward the bedroom like he’s got a plan brewing in his mind.

“You wanna distract me? Fine.” he says, kicking the door open before tossing you onto the bed. He stands at the edge, eyes raking over you like he’s deciding what area of your body he’s going to give his attention to first. His smirk turns sharp, almost predatory as he starts unbuckling his pants, pulling his boxers down and allowing both articles of clothing to fall at his ankles. Once you're naked underneath him, he lines the bulb of his cock with your already dripping entrance and slipping the tip inside, making you gasp from the delicious stretch. “Let’s jus’ see if you can handle what happens next.”

Fanbase — @sturnstarkeylvr @desigyall @princessadaniii8 @gillybear17 @rafestoothbrush @daisywonderland @saturnsdevilz @shadyshadyy @m-mally @jj-maybank944 @jordscosplay @taylormarieee @ims1 @ietss @shimmeringana @anything4yooongi @genesis-p4l-love @oatmealisweird @rafesslutt @artbymin @hot-cheeto5739 @maiacroson @7ds4ever @miaaalovesyou

[fanficfox]

ROAD HEAD (NSFW)

(schlatt x fem! reader, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, oral (m receiving) pet names, sexual acts while driving, MDNI)

schlatt wakes up out of a dead sleep to his phone ringing. He shoots up, spooked by the sudden loud ringtone in his ear. He grabs his phone to see who’s calling. He answered the phone a little groggy while still waking up. “hey babe what’s up?” Schlatt hears your voice coming though the phone a little slurred but he can still hear the cheeriness. “hey!! do you think you could come pick me up from the club?” Schlatt rubs his eyes trying to get himself more awake. He gives himself a good stretch as he responds “yeah i'll be there in 20 mins.” he starts to get out of bed putting a hoodie on and looking for shoes. “i'll be outside waiting for you” “That's good baby, I'll see you soon." "love you” you respond back, your voice is seductive and low. Schlatt didn’t miss that but he chose to just brush it off as you being drunk and flirty. He grabs his car keys. Heading out to go pick you up. After some time you finally see Schlatt pull up in his black mercedes. Once you're in the car he drives off. You look over to Schlatt. “So did you guys have fun?” he asks “yeah we had a blast. I’m a little fucked up right now but nothing i can’t handle” you laughed and so did he. “oh shit, well at least youre not sloppy” he smiles at you. The car is filled with silence for a moment but your head is full of thoughts of the things you wanna do with him. He looks a little tired like he’s starting to wake up. When you get to the red light, you start to get a little touchy. You moved a little closer to him and put a hand on his exposed thigh from the shorts he’s wearing. you started rubbing his thigh with every stroke inching closer to his cock. “What are ya doin toots?” he knew exactly what you were doing, he just wanted an answer out of you. “Oh nothing I just want to get you going”  you move closer to him and start placing kisses on his neck, his cheek, all things that you know are his favorite. you start touching him through his shorts and you can feel him growing with each kiss. the light turns green and you move back into your seat and he starts to drive again. he lets out a sigh “fuck you” he jokes. “What's wrong babe?” you try to act innocent but he wasn’t buying it. “you’re gonna do all that then leave me hanging?” he says trying to keep his eyes on the road. “the light turned green. and i didn’t know you wanted me to do anything” you smirked and turned your head away from him looking out the window. “Well what did you have in mind?” Now he’s the one with a seductive tone in his voice. you turn back to him and you notice the approaching red light. You moved back over to him to where you were before. You whisper into his ear “i wanna suck your cock right here and right now” you see his eyes widen and he turns to you biting his lip. “I won't stop you” he says and he looks around to make sure nobody is looking in even though his windows are tinted. Schlatt starts to pull his shorts down to reveal his excited hard dick. You could also see the excitement on his face. He was smiling like a kid in the candy store eagerly waiting for you to begin. you give him one last look into his eyes and you start to go down on him. You started to kiss the tip to tease him a little bit. then you lick his full length before taking him all in your mouth. his head tilts back in pleasure “fuck baby that feels so good” he moans out. he starts to drive again and he tries his best to keep his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel. but every once in a while you would catch him peeking down at you. watching as you sucked on him. one of his hands eventually finds its way to you head. guiding you to go the pace that he feels the most good at. after some deep throating you can feel the same twitch in your mouth. schlatt cums without warning but you swallow it like a good girl. you whip your mouth with your thumb, giving him a wink. you give him a quick kiss on the lips making him taste himself. “you’re a fucking freak” he laughs “and you love every bit of it” you responded biting your lip. “you know it! how about we get you home and i return the favor?”

[blessedmisery]

summary: sung jinwoo x reader - boyfriend headcannons. sfw and nsfw included. warnings: fluff, smut, idk this is silly authors note: ty for reading, hope u enjoy. likes and reblogs always appreciated <3

sung jinwoo is super introverted and literally so oblivious to anyone liking him so it'll take a while before the two of you get together

but when you do it'll be sooooo good. so so good.

jinwoo is terrible at communicating his feelings, and he will struggle to show you that he loves you at first

so you will be the one saying "i love you" first

his love languages would be acts of service, physical touch and quality time because this man seriously needs a hug but also loves doing things for you

he likes his space and alone time, but he would love to be in the same room together while the two of you do your own thing.

he'd be surprisingly really good at cooking because he's super detail-oriented and attentive

that also applies to your feelings, if you're feeling a certain way, he'll catch on instantly

but he won't really know what to do, he's pretty cold sometimes so he's not great at comforting people.

terrible texter. he texts like my dad. "ok", "👍" he's just super dry and doesn't feel the need to say more than he has to over text.

very blunt and honest, if you need advice he'll never sugarcoat. he'll tell you how things are straight up, even it it's the last thing you want to hear. he's a very no bullshit kind of guy.

arguments with jinwoo would actually be the worst. he hates being wrong and will argue until you give in and agree that he's right. he'll also fuck you while arguing to really drive the point home.

possessive. so possessive. will never let anything bad happen to you, and likes knowing that you are only his.

on that note, he also gets really jealous. but he won't make it obvious in public. however you will pay for making him feel that way later when you get home.

i imagine he looooves having his hair played with.

and just loves feeling taken care of in general. he's always taking care of everyone else that the feeling of having someone take care of him is so new but so intoxicating to him.

hates pda. he thinks that shit has a time and place (and i mean he ain't wrong) the most he will do is wrap an arm around your waist in a crowded area

but in the car? hand GLUED to your thigh. at home? always touching you or coming by to give you a kiss.

speaking of cars, he'd be a really good driver. but why have a car when you have kaisel.

BUT when jinwoo is being a normal member of society (aka not getting around on a literal shadow wyvern) hear me out, he would totally ride a motorcycle.

omg can you imagine riding on the back of it with him, the wind blowing against you while you tightly wrap your arms around his waist to hold on. fuck.

really hates valentine's day (he thinks it's stupid and a waste of time)

but that doesn't mean he still won't go all out for you and buy you flowers, chocolate, a huge teddy bear and fucking pink and red heart shaped balloons (he's so extra)

also hates his birthday, to him it's just any other day. that's when you have to come together with beru and igris and plan something out to make this man feel special.

fav season would definitely be fall or winter. he seems like someone who would despise the heat.

really annoying when he's sick. he'll pretend like he's fine and then he will act like he's dying. (he secretly just wants someone other than beru to take care of him)

forehead kisses. he loves to kiss you on your forehead, it's one of his favourite ways to show intimacy.

also gives really good hugs. he just has a really comforting aura (at least to you. others would likely disagree.)

really likes seeing you wear his clothes, particularly his hoodies. or when you sleep in his t-shirts. drives him absolutely mad.

has really good hygiene. i imagine he always smells really good.

with that, he's also a clean freak, and really hates making a mess and will get mad at you if you leave your clothes on the floor.

not a huge fan of pet names but will mostly stick to calling you "baby", "my love" when he's fucking you in missionary late at night, or "kitten" when he's feeling playful.

he's a cat person. i don't make the rules.

huge fan of the rain. he loves rainy days because they're an excuse to relax and lay in bed all day with you. and fuck.

hear me out, he would definitely be a reader. i can picture him enjoying a nice rainy afternoon with a good book. (anything to not socialize with other humans)

NOT a morning person. he likes to sleep in if he has nothing to do that day.

on that note he's a very light sleeper and has trouble falling asleep. so when he does u better not wake him tf up.

super competitive. if you're playing any games or making any bets with this man, best of luck to you. he will do anything to win.

lowkey a gamer. he's got a nice, expensive setup and he likes playing video games. especially when you're sitting on his lap while he plays.

hates being in pictures. good luck getting this man to smile in a photo.

stares at you a lot? (kinda creepy ngl) but he just really likes looking at you

now lets discuss the sex:

realistically he wouldn't be very experienced because this guy spent all his time in gates instead of talking to women.

but ofc its sung jinwoo so he'll be instantly good at anything he does

very respectful towards you overall

i imagine he's actually pretty vanilla, at least at first because he hasn't had many opportunities to explore kinks

unless he's mad. then ur getting it babe. and ur getting it good.

he will push your head into the sheets and take his anger out on you, pounding into you mercilessly while whispering dirty, degrading things into your ear.

"act like a bitch, get fucked like one" attitude when he's mad.

he's not very vocal himself but looooves to hear you make noise

lowkey size kink cuz hes tall af (6'3 i think?)

despite being kind of vanilla and abit of a clean freak this man gets filthy with you when then two of you fuck.

really likes cum play. and oral sex. he will spend hours eating you out like there's no tomorrow. he also loves getting head.

like i said he's not very vocal but if you give this man a blow job. whew. he will make the hottest sounds you'd ever hear coming out of a mans mouth. can you imagine him breathing heavily, his voice all raspy saying "fuck baby keep going, just like that" while he grabs your hair, choking you on his cock. bye.

and licking. holy shit. once he starts he wont stop. he will lick you from ass to clit. no questions asked.

really likes edging you— "what was that baby? i couldn't hear you" he'd mumble against the sensitive skin surrounding your clit after eating you out for a whole hour, pushing you so close to the edge but denying you your sweet release. by this point you're panting, tears are prickling the corners of your eyes and you've become completely incoherent. "p-please jinwoo. p-please ah, i need to c-cum" you'd utter, taking all of your energy to form that one simple sentence while tugging on his messy hair. "mmm kitten i know. but i'm not done. you just taste soo good" he'd mutter drunkenly in response and continue licking and sucking you until you've quite literally lost your damn mind.

hes so pussy drunk omfg

dacryphilia. really likes seeing you cry from his edging or overstim during sex

"you're mine. only mine". constantly whispering this in your ear while you fuck. (like i said, the man is possessive)

has the prettiest cock (just like him). not wide but he makes up for that shit in LENGTH. def above average length. good luck fitting that shit all the way in (if u say u can't he'll make u)

one word: fingering. yeah. those long, slender fingers will be exploring every inch of your clit and pussy. and you'll be loving every second of it.

loves to cum together. he's a big fan of creampies.

big handcuff enthusiast. likes to see you struggle.

his favourite position would be missionary. like i said, he loves looking at you and hearing the noises you make. missionary is ideal for him.

very big fan of shower sex. something about getting home after a long day and having a good fuck in the shower is so appealing to him.

"good girl" yeah mhm. he'd say this. a lot.

praises. these will be rare with jinwoo and you'll really have to earn it but he will praise you so good when you do.

ass > boobs. like i said, i don't make the rules babe.

© @blessedmisery 2025.

[sturniololuvz]

Could you do a fic where Chris and Matt got into a fist fight and Y/N was trying to get them to stop and Chris was just so mad he ended up hitting g Y/N and every time after that when he raised his hand she would flinch and she would always ignore him and in the end they make up

“I Didn’t Mean To”

Sturniolos x sister

The house was filled with yelling. It wasn’t the usual playful arguing or petty bickering that Y/N was used to. No, this was real. This was heated, voices raised in anger, fists clenched.

Chris and Matt were at it again, only this time, it had escalated past words.

“You’re such a selfish asshole, Chris!” Matt shouted, shoving his brother back a step.

“Oh yeah? At least I don’t act like I’m better than everyone!” Chris shot back, shoving him just as hard.

“GUYS, STOP!” Y/N pleaded, stepping between them as they both lunged at each other.

She barely had time to react before fists started flying. She shoved against Matt’s chest, trying to hold him back, but Chris swung before realizing she was in the way.

His knuckles collided hard with the side of Y/N’s face, sending her stumbling back in shock.

The entire room went still.

Chris’s face paled as his hands dropped to his sides. “Y/N…” His voice cracked. “Oh my God, I—I didn’t mean to—”

Y/N clutched her cheek, eyes wide in disbelief. Her breathing was shaky, her heart racing. Matt stood frozen, looking between them in horror.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat and took a shaky step back.

“Don’t,” she whispered, turning on her heel and walking away.

Chris stood there, motionless, as guilt crashed over him like a tidal wave.

—

For the next few days, Y/N barely spoke to Chris. She avoided him at all costs, never meeting his eyes, brushing past him like he wasn’t even there.

But what killed Chris the most was the way she flinched.

The first time it happened, he had reached up to scratch his head during a conversation, and Y/N had immediately tensed, her body recoiling as if expecting him to hit her again.

Chris’s stomach dropped. “Y/N…”

But she was already walking away.

It happened again when he reached across the table to grab something. She instinctively jerked back, eyes flickering with the briefest hint of fear before she masked it with indifference.

Chris felt like absolute shit.

—

One night, he found her sitting on the couch, curled up under a blanket, watching TV but not really paying attention. He hesitated before sitting beside her, keeping a safe distance.

“Y/N,” he said quietly.

She didn’t look at him.

Chris exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t even know how to explain how bad I feel. I swear on everything, I would never—never—hurt you on purpose. I just…” His voice wavered. “I hate that I scared you.”

Y/N stayed silent for a long moment before finally speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. “You hit me, Chris.”

“I know,” he choked out. “And I hate myself for it. I swear to you, Y/N, it’ll never happen again. Ever. I don’t care how mad I get. I would never want to hurt you.”

She swallowed, finally turning her head to look at him. His eyes were glassy, full of guilt and regret.

“I don’t want to be scared of you,” she admitted.

Chris’s face crumbled. “You won’t be,” he promised. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never have to feel like that again.”

Y/N studied him for a long moment before finally sighing, shifting closer, and leaning into his side.

Chris hesitated for a split second before carefully wrapping an arm around her, holding her close.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes. “I love you too.”

[andy-15-07]

Could you please write a pedro pascal x reader, where the reader has the flu/fever and she's acting like she's fine and Pedro takes care of her even if he's a terrible cook? 🥺

Flu Season with Pedro

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 654| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Pedro had been watching you like a hawk all day.

It started when you woke up with a slight sniffle, your forehead warm to the touch, but you brushed it off, claiming it was nothing. He wasn’t buying it.

“You’re sick,” Pedro stated firmly, arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“I’m fine,” you replied, waving a dismissive hand as you sipped on some lukewarm tea.

Pedro narrowed his eyes. “You’re literally sweating and shivering at the same time. That’s not fine, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to stand up and make your way to the couch, but the moment you did, your vision blurred, and you wobbled slightly. Pedro was by your side in an instant, steady hands on your waist.

“See? Not fine,” he murmured, his brows knitting together in concern.

You sighed, leaning into him just a little, your body betraying you. “Okay… maybe a tiny bit not fine.”

Pedro let out a soft chuckle and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.”

You groaned. “Nooo, I wanna be on the couch. I’ll be bored in bed.”

“You’ll be bored wherever you are because you feel like shit,” he pointed out. “At least let me make you something to eat.”

That made you perk up, but not for the reason he’d hoped. “Oh no,” you said, deadpan. “Pedro, last time you ‘cooked,’ you almost set the kitchen on fire.”

Pedro scoffed, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense. “That was one time.”

“It was last week.”

“Details,” he muttered, guiding you toward the couch anyway. “Now, sit. I’m making you soup.”

You opened your mouth to protest but gave up. Your body was too exhausted to argue, and honestly, the thought of him fussing over you was kind of sweet.

From your spot on the couch, you watched as Pedro banged around in the kitchen, muttering to himself. He read the back of the soup can like it held ancient secrets, turned the stove on with the careful precision of a bomb expert, and nearly dropped the pot twice. You couldn’t help but laugh, weak as it was.

“This is very stressful,” he called out. “How do people just… cook?”

“Some would argue that soup from a can isn’t really cooking.”

Pedro shot you a playful glare before dramatically stirring the contents of the pot. “You’re lucky I love you,” he grumbled.

You smiled, watching him struggle but knowing his heart was in the right place. “I know.”

Eventually, after a few more mishaps (including but not limited to nearly adding sugar instead of salt), Pedro approached you with a steaming bowl of soup. He sat beside you, carefully blowing on a spoonful before holding it up to your lips.

“Alright, open up,” he instructed.

You quirked an eyebrow. “Pedro, I can feed myself.”

“Oh, I know,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m already in caretaker mode. Let me have this.”

You sighed dramatically before obliging, letting him feed you. The soup was… well, edible. Barely. But the way he was looking at you, all warm brown eyes and soft smiles, made it taste a little better.

After a few spoonfuls, you leaned back against him, exhaustion creeping in. Pedro immediately wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know,” he murmured against your hair, “I hate seeing you sick.”

You nestled closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “I know. But you taking care of me almost makes it worth it.”

Pedro chuckled, his chest vibrating against your back. “Almost?”

You hummed sleepily. “If the soup was better, maybe.”

“Rude,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “Go to sleep, troublemaker.”

You closed your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. With Pedro holding you, whispering soft reassurances, you let yourself drift off, knowing you were in the best hands.

[musictowatchboystoblog]

renting crisis, part one. richie jerimovich x reader.

summary: in a last ditch attempt to save you both from the rising cost of rent and the loneliness you feel following mikey’s death, richie asks you to move in with him. a complicated relationship between you ensues.

a/n. first post ever. hopefully more to come soon 💌

slow burn, but not that slow.

————————————————————————

the beef - may, 2022

————————————————————————

you’re sitting at a table, counting tips, looking exhausted. richie leans against the counter, watching you. he’s trying to play it cool, but it’s obvious he’s been thinking about something.

“yo.”

“what, rich?” you respond, without looking up.

he kisses his teeth. “you still getting fucked on rent?”

you scoff, rubbing your eyes. “what do you think?”

richie’s silent for a moment before he speaks up. “i think… i got a couch,” you finally look up at him, squinting, trying to figure out if he’s serious.

“yeah, so do i. what’s your point?”

shrugging, real casual, he continues. “i dunno. just saying. i got space. spare room. wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you, you know, crashed there for a while.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and why would i do that?”

richie mocks offence, hand over his heart like he’s just been shot. “jesus christ, i make one nice offer and you act like i just asked you to fucking marry me.”

“you’re not nice.”

“i can be.” he retorts, grinning.

you study him for a long beat. he won’t look at you and continues to pretend to wipe down the counter, like it’s no big deal. but it is. and you know it.

you nod softly. “okay.”

richie glances up, surprised you actually said yes. he covers it with a shrug.

“yeah?”

smiling back, you bite your bottom lip. “yeah. but if you piss me off, i’m keying your fuckin’ car.”

he grins, clapping his hands together. “ahhh, there she is!”

you both smirk at each other. it’s not sentimental, it’s not dramatic—it’s just two people who work in a shit hole finding a way to make it a little easier.

————————————————————————

richie’s apartment - a week later

————————————————————————

the apartment is small but decent. lived-in. you lean on the couch, folding laundry that definitely isn’t yours. richie walks in, stops, and frowns.

“uh, what the fuck is this?”

you don’t bother looking up. “your clean underwear. you’re welcome.”

he groans like you just kicked him in the balls. “i don’t need you touching my fucking boxers.”

“trust me, i don’t want to. but if i didn’t do it, you’d be freeballin’ at work in two days.” you deadpan.

grumbling, he sits next to you on the arm of the couch. “not the worst thing in the world.”

“you are disgusting.”

richie, now grinning, kicks his feet up. “yeah, yeah. you done hogging the tv? i wanna put the game on.”

quickly, you snatch up the remote, hugging it close to your chest. “i’m watching the vampire diaries.”

“are you fucking serious?” he groans.

“yup.”

the two of you bicker for another minute, but it’s easy, it’s comfortable. neither of you say it, but it’s nice not being alone.

————————————————————————

the apartment - june, 2022

————————————————————————

you walk into the kitchen, still half-asleep, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that is definitely not yours—it’s one of richie’s old bulls hoodies. richie is at the counter, eating straight out of a cereal box. je does a double take when he sees you

“yo, is that my hoodie?”

you grab a mug, yawning. “might be.”

richie throws his arms in the air. “you can’t just steal my shit, dude.”

“i absolutely can.” you retort as you pour your coffee.

he snorts. “nah, see, this is why roommates don’t work out. this is how wars start.”

you take a sip of your beverage, then flip him off without looking. richie sighs, throwing a handful of cereal at you. you dodge it.

“you’re a fucking child.” your insult doesn’t land and the man in front of you just rolls his eyes.

“yeah, and?”

beat. you eye the cereal box in his hand.

“that better not be my fucking cocoa puffs.”

richie lets out a laugh, his mouth full. “it’s our cocoa puffs now.”

you glare at him, then lunge for the box. you wrestle for it like literal children until richie finally lets go, sending you stumbling back. you hold the box triumphantly, out of breath.

“that’s what i fucking thought.”

he shakes his head, shaking with laughter. “you’re the fuckin’ worst.”

you shake your head back, mockingly. “nah, you are.”

you share a grin. it’s dumb, but it’s fun.

————————————————————————

the apartment - july, 2022

————————————————————————

more comfortable in your new living situation, you sit at the kitchen table, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. richie walks in, downing a beer, eyebrows raised.

“oh no. what the fuck is this?”

once again, you don’t look up. “house rules.”

he snorts. “what is this, fuckin’ summer camp?”

ignoring him, you read out loud. “rule #1: if you leave dishes in the sink, i will kill you.”

dramatic.

“rule #2: no watching porn in the living room.”

richie furrows his eyebrows, the crease between them becoming more apparent by the second. “woah, woah. i don’t—,”

pointing at him, you avoid eye contact. “i don’t want to know.”

he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, raising his other hand in surrender.

fair.

you clear your throat, continuing.

“rule #3: If you eat my food, you replace my food.”

“you’re never gonna let the cocoa puffs thing go, huh?” he quips.

sneering, you tilt your head in a sarcastic manner. “not in this lifetime, asshole.”

richie snatches the paper from her, looking it over. you roll your eyes, snatching it back. he sits across from you, menacingly.

“you know, i kinda dig this.”

immediate confusion.

“the rules?”

shrugging, he picked at the label on his beer bottle. “nah, just… this. you here. dunno.”

you peer up at him through your lashes. it’s the closest thing to sincere richie’s ever been. you just nod, hiding a small smile.

“yeah.”

you don’t say anything else. he just sips his drink. you wring your hands together.

————————————————————————

the beef - august, 2022

————————————————————————

this time, you’re behind the counter, dealing with a customer who is very much testing your patience.

the horrible man grumbles, pointing at the menu behind you with a waggly finger.

“i don't get why you don't have more options.”

you force a smile, feeling yourself beginning to slowly die on the inside. “because it's a sandwich shop.”

the cunt across from you doesn’t miss a beat. “yeah, well, that’s stupid.”

dryly, you lean forward on your elbows. “i'll let corporate know.”

he scoffs at you. the nerve. “you got a real attitude problem, you know that?”

fuck you. you think, but you don’t have to say it because before you can, richie appears beside you. he grins, but there’s nothing friendly about it.

“you got a problem with her?”

the customer blinks, taken aback. “i didn't say that.”

"i-i didn't say that.” richie mocks. “shut the fuck up. you don't like the menu? go somewhere else.”

the man splutters. turning red.

“excuse me-,”

your coworker-turned-roommate drops his smile, eyes dangerous. “no, excuse me. get the fuck outta here.”

the customer glares, but ultimately backs off, mumbling something under his breath as he leaves. richie watches him go, then turns back to you, who's just staring at him.

you blink slowly. “jesus, rich.”

but he only shrugs, walking off. “what?”

“fuckin’ psycho.” you say to yourself, shaking your head. you turn back to the register, biting back a small smile as you move on to the next customer.

————————————————————————

the apartment - september, 2022

————————————————————————

the apartment is dimly lit, mostly by the glow of the tv. richie is on the couch, flipping through channels with another beer in hand. you’re is in the kitchen, rinsing out a glass, moving slower than usual. you’ve been quiet all night. though richie doesn’t think much of it—until he hears a quiet sniffle. he barely turns his head.

he’s casual, not even looking away from the screen. “yo, you sick or some shit?”

silence. then, another sniffle. he frowns, finally turning to look at you. you’re standing at the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter, your shoulders tense. he sees the slight shake in your back.

fuck. she’s crying. he thinks.

richie sits up, his voice softer now. “hey.”

you quickly wipes her eyes and turn your back more, like you’re trying to hide. you let out a breath, trying to play it off.

“it’s nothing.”

he throws his arm down the side of the couch, searching for the remote. “yeah, alright. you’re just standing there crying ‘cause of nothing.”

you exhale through your nose, frustrated, but your voice betrays you, wobbling.

“i don’t fuckin’ cry.”

richie tilts his head, tone dry as he finally pauses the tv. “yeah? what’s that, then?”

you huff a laugh, but it’s weak. you shake your head, rubbing at your face aggressively like you’re trying to scrub the emotion off. he watches you for a second, then gets up, walking over.

leaning against the counter next to you, close but not too close, he breaks the silence again.

“it’s fine, y’know.”

you mutter out a small “no, it’s fuckin’ not.”

“yeah, it is. you live here, don’t you?”

you sniff again, looking down at the counter. richie reaches past you and grabs the roll of paper towels, tearing one off and handing it to you. you take it, still not looking at him, dabbing your face.

the man next to you clears his throat. “you wanna talk about it or what?”

you swallow, staring at the sink. your voice is small when you speak.

“…don’t know.”

richie nods, like that’s a perfectly fine answer. he doesn’t push. instead, he nudges your arm lightly, pulling a shitty little joke out of his pocket.

“just don’t go getting snot all over my counter, alright? i keep this place immaculate.”

an actual laugh escapes you—quiet, but real. you shake your head again, eyes still wet, but there’s something lighter in your face. he smirks, nudging you again. “that’s better.”

you both stand there in silence for a few seconds. then, richie pushes off the counter and grabs another beer from the fridge.

he holds it up toward you in question.

“beer?”

you exhales and nod.

“yeah.”

he tosses it to you. you catch it, finally looking at him. he just shrugs, like this never happened. you pop the cap and take a sip.

then you go back to the couch, richie flipping the channels like normal. like it’s just another night.

————————————————————————

the apartment - november, 2022

————————————————————————

it starts small. at first, it’s just convenience. you’re on your laptop in the living room, but richie’s watching something loud and stupid on tv. so you roll your eyes, pick up your laptop, and disappear into your room.

no big deal, right?

then, one night, richie’s door is open, and he’s lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone. you pass by, stop, and lean in the doorway.

“what are you doing?”

he doesn’t bother looking up. “bein’ fucking awesome, obviously.”

“mm. looks like you’re laying there like a loser.”

he scoffs, still not looking up. he scoots over slightly, making just enough space on the bed without actually saying anything. you don’t hesitate—you flop down next to him, on your stomach, scrolling through your own phone.

you don’t talk, just sit there in comfortable silence. blue light bouncing off your faves.

a few days later, richie’s walking past your room, and your door is cracked open. you’re lying on your side, curled up, watching something on your computer.

he stops. “what’s this?”

“a fucking movie, richard.”

he grumbles at your reaction. “no shit. what’s it about?”

“it’s french. you wouldn’t get it.”

richie pretends to be offended, letting his jaw drop. “‘scuse the fuck outta me?”

you smile, but then—you scoots over a little, thinking of when he did the same before. just a little. an unspoken offer. your roommate leans against the doorframe for a second, then shrugs and walks in, falling onto the bed next to you.

“alright, let’s see what kinda pretentious shit you’re into.”

then it just becomes a thing. you don’t say anything about it, but richie’s room stops being just richie’s room. yours stops being just yours. there’s no boundaries anymore—not in a weird way, just in a roommate way. in a ‘we live together and we’re comfortable way.’

you’ll be half-asleep in your bed, and richie’ll walk in and steal one of your hoodies off the chair like it belongs to him.

richie’ll be laying in his bed and you’ll wander in, sit on the floor, and scroll through your phone without saying anything.

neither of you question it anymore.

one night in particular, richie’s lying in bed, doing god knows what, and you walk in without knocking. you’ve got a beer in your hand and toss it to him without looking.

he catches it and cracks it open.

“you’re gettin’ real comfortable in my room, lady.”

not knowing what to say, you shrug, flopping down next to him. “yeah, well. It’s better than mine.”

he gives you a look, taking a sip of his beer. “your room is the exact same as this one.”

“yours has better vibes.”

he snorts. “oh, fuck off.”

you laugh, nudging him with your knee. richie rolls his eyes but smirks. you sit there, drinking in silence, the radio playing some dumb late-night talk-show in the background. and it’s fine.

neither of you say it, but—it’s kinda nice, not feeling alone all the time.

————————————————————————

the beef - february, 2023

————————————————————————

it’s a slow part of the day, that weird in-between where nothing really happens. you’re leaning against the lockers, sipping a coke, and richie’s bullshitting about something stupid.

sugar enters from the office, she had been around a lot lately because carmy was trying to convince her to renovate ‘the beef’ into… you didn’t even want to know.

her eyes eventually land on the two of you as she greets you both with a smile. “wow. you two are really attached at the hip these days, huh?”

you snorts, taking another sip of your coke.

richie just raises an eyebrow. “what the fuck does that mean?”

sugar sends you a knowing look.

“it means every time i come in here, you two are either flirting, arguing, or just—existing in the same place. it’s kinda strange.”

you angle your head away from richie to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “thank you, natalie.

she eyes you both, unimpressed. then, she crosses her arms and tilts her head slightly.

“i’m just saying. it’s kinda funny. you guys live together, you work together—.”

richie interjects. “oh my god, is there a point to this?”

sugar only laughs.

i mean, it’s cute guys. like a little old married couple. mikey would prob—,”

you and richie both react at the same time.

“what the fuck—,”

“shut the fuck up.”

tina laughs from somewhere in the kitchen, obviously enjoying the show. sugar just smiles, like she’s oblivious to what she’s doing.

“i think it’s sweet, you guys! you take care of each other.”

richie scoffs, but he doesn’t have a real comeback. he just shifts on his feet and mutters “yeah, well, fuck off.”

she raises her hands in surrender, still smiling innocently, and walks off. you shake your head, downing the last of your drink before setting the can down with a clink. you look over at richie, who’s still scowling like he’s been personally insulted.

“you’re being so weird right now.”

“you’re being so weird right now.” he retorts, like a six-year old.

you roll your eyes, but there’s something in richie’s face—just for a second, something small and unspoken. neither of you acknowledge it.

instead, you nudge him with your elbow and walk off, and he watches you go for half a second longer than he should.

————————————————————————

the apartment - march, 2023

————————————————————————

the soft glow of the lamp lights the room, casting a warm, intimate glow. you’re lying on your back, the blankets scattered around you. richie is beside you, propped up on one arm, his other hand resting casually on the bed.

you two of you talk, but your words are light, almost nonsensical—just enjoying the simplicity of the conversation.

your faces are close, so close that it feels natural to hear each other’s breath and feel the warmth between them.

you laugh softly, pulling a drag from your cigarette and handing it back over.

“do you think… if we had an actual pet, we’d be good at taking care of it?”

richie chuckles, amused by the randomness of the question. “like a goldfish?”

“yeah, like a goldfish. what if we killed it by accident? i feel like we’d be those people who forget to feed it and then, like, find it floating in the tank.”

he laughs, his eyes sparkling with humour. “i dunno, i think we’d be fine. i mean, i could always blame you. you’re the one who’d forget.”

you playfully swat at him, but you’re smiling, your eyes soft and full of affection.

“right, blame me, huh? we both know i’m probably the responsible one between the two of us.”

richie pulls a very serious face, his lips fighting the urge to curve into a smile. “oh yeah? well, last time i checked, i was the one who made sure we had food last night.”

“pizza doesn’t count as ‘responsibility,’ rich.”

he smirks, and just then you realise how his face is only inches from yours.

“hey, that was a survival tactic. you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

you’re quiet for a moment, the air between you comfortable.

turning your head just slightly, you meet his eyes with a softness that says more than words ever could. richie’s face softens, too. there’s a brief beat of complete silence before he leans in, his nose brushing against yours lightly.

“is this the part where we get all deep and talk about our feelings or…?”

you laugh nervously at his words.

————————————————————————

💌

[certifiedsexed]

I feel a little stupid for asking, but can horniness actually make you act less responsible/more impulsive? Like, is "thinking with your dick" a real thing??

I'm a trans guy and I recently got my testosterone dosage upped and I feel like I've gone insane. I genuinely don't think I've met anyone with a higher libido than I do right now. I'm horny nearly 24/7 and at it's worst/most intense, I sometimes find myself doing weird and/or risky shit that I never did before like looking at porn (and often touching myself) in public/semi-public spaces, looking at more extreme porn in general, and hooking up with complete strangers multiple times a week (usually 4-6 times). I feel shame after and I don't like that I do it, but it genuinely does feel like my impulse control nearly disappears once I'm horny enough. I know men (both cis and trans) sometimes talk about thinking with their dicks, but I didn't think arousal could legitimately impact someone's judgement as significantly as this.

Well, sure. Not in the sense that "if you're horny, you become more impulsive" but in the sense that being horny can be a reason or motive for doing things more impulsively/less responsibly.

Having a high sex drive, especially when you haven't had one before, can be quite jarring and, like I mentioned, quite a strong motive for doing riskier/impulsive shit to deal with it!

It's okay to look at "more extreme porn" and to regularly hook up with strangers. Your body belongs to you and its your own business.

That said, if it really bothers you and you feel like you can't control yourself (as opposed to "this feels good, so I don't really want to stop"), you can discuss adjusting your testosterone or seeing if there's any medicines/methods your doctor can recommend for dealing with your sex drive.

But, just to be clear, I think any want can greatly affect your judgement. Not in the sense that you're not in control but in the sense that if you really want something, sometimes you do things to get it that you wouldn't normally do!

That doesn't mean its bad but it can be difficult to figure out to manage!

So, try to keep that in mind. As long as you're not assaulting anyone, its okay to struggle managing a high sex drive and to be interested in doing more sexual things.

I'm not sure if this is helpful but let me know, Anon! Also, congrats on getting on testosterone, that's fun! <3

[sugurusladyknightt]

"you're mad at me."

you huff through your nose, your reflection in the mirror is an angry one and rightfully so. eyes closed you take a moment to collect yourself, to loosen your clenched jaw, and just breathe.

"'you're mad at me', says the idiot man" you say, eyes intent on not leaving your reflection in the mirror, " 'of course i'm mad at you' replies the idiot man's wife." matter of factly, mock sympathy clear in your voice, before it turns cold. "for last night i discovered my idiot man husband who was terribly hurt by i'm not even sure what, standing in the bathroom trying to tend to his wound with tools that are inadequate to tend to those sorts of wounds.'"

the comb in your hands now being held like it is something between an accusing finger and a weapon ready to attack. still your eyes do not leave their reflection in the mirror before you.

sukuna thinks not having you speak to him, not having you look at him since last night, is lethal weapon enough.

"and when idiot wife sees this she feels a surge of very very many emotions of worry and sadness and anger and confusion and concern and yet, idiot man plays her the fool. no explanation,- "

"baby, please"

you sound exasperated, frantic; and him desperate.

"nothing, nothing at all to ease her worries. like she is someone he simply owes nothing too. like she isn't the one he's married to. it is possible that idiot man thinks his wife will simply forget. and then what does idiot man do you ask? well idiot man does just as his name suggests and acts as if he has no idea what is going on, he acts like an idiot, and continues to state plainly, pathetically, uselessly, 'you're mad at me.'"

you turn to look at him and you look pained. and god does he feel that way too. it's hidden well by your hardened exterior, furrowed brows, cold voice, and angry expression, but sukuna has come far past the point of being fooled by the expression you wear on your face — your eyes tell. they always do.

he moves from where he stands to take to your side, his place, sat next to you. his movements stiff, not as smooth as usual but still his natural effortlessness somehow manages to shine through. his knees touching yours almost shyly, and his hands curled in his lap, clasped together tightly. he wants to hold yours. you can tell, though make no movement to realize that desire. that need. neither of you move. but you wait for him.

it's quite strange to see sukuna of all people like this, it doesn't happen very often. crimson eyes down cast and his lips seemingly unable to decide whether they want to part and speak to you or to press themselves into a thin line and say nothing at all.

moments and moments pass and he gives you nothing. your chest fills with air and it deflates, deeep breathe.

you stand from your place and move to your bed, you need some sleep right now. you miss it with your back turned to him as you walk. his form falls further, longing for you so dearly when your so close.

his ego and pride aside; those things have no room in his mind, not when he is with you. he didn't need to be those things, he did not have to be endlessly strong. he did not have to be so guarded and he doesn't want to be. he doesn't want you to be that way around him either.

shit, he hadn't meant for this.

last night, sukuna had come home with a bloody gash through his his side. it was late and you were asleep, and he was tired. so tired. the last thing he needed was to have to wait in a hospital for care when he could do it here, at home, by himself, close to you.

so there he is, lights on in the bathroom as he's standing there trying to stitch himself up with the little sewing kit you kept in the medicine cabinet and a pair of kitchen scissors. it was a bloody affair, jaw clenched through the pain. his head was thrown back, sharp exhales, and eyes shut so tight. bloodied toilet paper everywhere. and that's right when you walk in.

perfect timing as always.

sukuna thinking its both kinda funny, incredibly scary, and so impressive how you always manage to find him in the most unfortunate and compromising situations.

he must've been louder than he'd thought. your sleepy form rigid as your eyes adjust to the light and you register the sight before you.

your husband, standing with his back against one of the walls of the small room, bloodied hands are positioned close to the wound in his side, one holding the needle and thread, dripping in his blood. the silver band he wears so proudly on his left hand is too.

your eyes frantically darting everywhere, finally landing on his wide crimson eyes staring right back at you. they match the color of the blood soaking his hands and smeared on his face and nearly everything else in the bathroom.

if the circumstances were different, if it wasn't for you he gaping hole in his side, you'd think it's quite a picturesque view. but right now, he looks like a man who was just caught doing a horrible job of trying to sew himself together at midnight by his wife, who by the way, also had her sleep disturbed by him.

your eyes go from wide with shock and confusion to being filled with worry and concern to focused and determined. the transformation so quick, it'd be easy for anyone else to miss.

you take his hand in yours and lead him to sit on the lid of the toilet lid almost as quick. you pull the hand covering the gash away from it so you can see it without distraction.

it's a few too many inches long for your liking, right down the side of his tattooed torso. sell sure, he's been hurt before, bruises on his face, bloody knuckles, some scratches maybe. you know who you married, you've had to sew him up, before but really it was nothing major, nothing in comparison to this.

"don't move, i'll only be a moment."

you've left to grab the first aid box you have, it isn't ideal, but better than what he's been doing. it's all you have to work with for now, and so you'll just have to do with it.

once back, you settle between his thighs and start opening and removing the stitches he's sewn in so that you can clean it up, disinfect it, before sewing it up properly, and wrapping him up.

your work is diligent and quite. eyes hardly ever leaving their current subject of interest. he's quiet too, crimson eyes don't leave you. in the past, when you've found yourself in these situations, he'd be teasing or making those quick-witted remarks of his, but not tonight. he can't bring himself to.

you do your best, willing your hands not to tremble as you work; there's so much blood. you can see his hands clenched atop his thighs, knuckles going white. his muscles flinging at the burning and sting of the disinfectant or the cold of the needle repeatedly piercing his aching skin.

you know he's tired, you are too. but sleep is so far form your mind right now. you place a hand on his thighs and squeeze gently, hoping your grip is steadying to him. something to keep him grounded. something to convey the words you don't have the strength to announce at the moment but still, you want him to hear them.

once your done, you let out a slow, shaky breathe, quickly moving to the sink to wash your hands and dry your hands before wrapping him up in clean gauze. the first few layers bloody quick, but you continue until it is enough, looking up at him in conformation that it isn't too tight before you secure it in place.

your hands gently drag up and down his sides before they settle of his tights to push yourself up, only then do you meet his eyes properly. he feels like it's his first time seeing you all over again. its not enough, eyes darting away far too quick. its far too fleeting a moment for him to properly telepathically convey his thoughts to you through eye contact.

you pack up the first aid kid setting it on the counter, leaving to grab him a clean shirt from the closet setting it on the counter as well, and your off to bed. not another word to him, not another glance. you don't even know that you want to know what happen. he feels like a child how'd just been scolded. his body far too large for him in this moment.

sukuna slips the shirt over his head, and moves carefully when he's fitting the rest of it over his body. it was pretty bad, he can't even pretend that this isn't all that big of a deal. he knew, your actions were only coming from a place of concern for his wellbeing and that made this all that much worse. he feels likes he's been drinking hot sand instead of water.

he looks at himself in the mirror, bloodied sink under him: sighh. there's not much else he can do.

he peaks his head out the bathroom first, then the rest of him emerges. he's met with the sight of you, well kinda. it's more like he's met with the sight of a lump under the blankets he knows is you.

your back facing his side of the bed, and he's sitting on the edge of it. there's an air of awkwardness, as he settles under the covers, his eyes trained on your back. sukuna wants so badly to shuffle close to you and lay his head on your pillow, to hold your hand in his and tangle your legs together under the covers, but he doesn't. he can bring himself to.

so he just stares at you longingly, he stares at you like you're hundreds of kilometres away. and all he can hope for is that tomorrow, when he wakes up with you, it'll be better.

that he'll be better.

better for you.