#꒰ 🌸;; fics ̖́-

[bloomseishiro]

who the hell is he? — you’re thirsting over a character, but he doesn’t know you’re talking about someone fictional

౨ৎ ft. rin, nagi, and sae

contents. fluff, crack, the boys get a lil jealous hehe, suggestive for sae’s part (mdni), the fictional characters reader is thirsting over are from l&ds lmfaooooo

note. this is my first bllk smau pls be nice 🫣 i’m trying to get comfy writing more bllk characters!! feel free to request :3

[jesuistrestriste]

we need to see artie with the yummy cupcake lotion!! PLEASEEE

ask and you shall receive ᢉ𐭩

cw (18+) : sub!art, dom!reader, dom!patrick, multiple orgasms (art receiving), sloppy blowjobs, biting, brief dacryphilia, nipple play, handjobs, art gets ruined .

“fff—uhh-ck—!” art’s body shudders atop the mattress hard enough to vibrate it, his aquamarine eyes rolling back and his leg muscles flexing underneath your seat over his thighs. as your hands work the newly-bought (thank you, patrick’s wallet) whipped body cream into his swollen shaft, he fixates on the way your thumbs rub at the vein bulging and throbbing from within the underside of his length. he heaves like he’s short of breath. patrick slings a leg over his chest and smirks down at him, obscuring his view of you.

“so hot when you can barely handle a handjob,” he teases, his palms moving down to cup the back of art’s head and urge it forward to meet his glistening tip, “open up f’r me, watching you get worked up is making me leak..”

art’s never one to put up a fight when it comes to pleasuring you or patrick, so he lets out the prettiest of keens before he relaxes his jaw and swallows his best friend down in one ragged gulp. his cheeks puff for only a brief moment as he stifles his gag reflex, then they hollow as he adjusts and begins sucking the pleasantly-salty flesh with the finesse of a seasoned slut.

pat immediately tosses his head back, letting out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates throughout his chest, and guides his hips to shallowly thrust against art’s face—the flushed tip of art’s nose buried in nothing but thick happy-trail. little “mmn”s from the blonde’s chest escape as the inches are sloppily fed to him with every grinding motion, pushing him to swallow down as much as he possibly can.. and he can take quite a lot..

your hands begin to pump the rigid length harder in your grasp; up, down, up, down, up, and then down, down, down to cup his tightening sack. you smirk. you know each and every one of his weak spots in a way that no one else does; it’s become easier than ever to exploit them for your (and patrick’s) benefit. all it really takes is one specific touch, and he’ll lose it. with that in mind, you drag your fingernail against the soft seam in his balls, chuckling when you hear an unsurprising, muffled cry erupt from art’s body. his hands rush to squeeze at pat’s thighs, his pelvis jolts like he’s a wild horse trying to buck you off, and then he comes. just like that. simple—quick—inexcusable.

his toes curl, his cock spasming as you stroke him through it. your eyes stick to the sight of his spend spurting and spilling over your touch and his lower abdomen. it looks like the icing that glazes cinnamon rolls; it makes you lick over your bottom lip, desperate to finally lap up what you’re craving. in the same breath, patrick reels back and pulls his still painfully-hard erection from the other’s mouth. strings of spit cling and break from their point of contact. while pat’s frame is still shielding the sight of your plaything’s post-orgasmic expression from your gaze, you can hear him breathing and whimpering through the aftershocks, same as he always does. composure is something he never retains after the first climax. you give the middle of his member one last pump before you’re sliding down onto your tummy and patrick is moving in tandem to sit beside art’s torso—grabbing the bottle of lotion from the bedside table and squeezing a deliciously-sweet helping over art’s bare chest. the initial chill of it makes his body shiver.

“that wasn’t even a minute, artie, maybe not even thirty seconds,” you croon, kissing his inner thighs, looking up to him through your lashes, “that was a little embarrassing, actually..”

art moans at your taunting words and the feel of your soft lips pressing to his sensitive skin. his unsteady hands curl into the sheets where they fell from pat. he wants to cry already, you can tell; the urge wells in his eyes like pools of saltwater. you rub his hipbone in an attempt to comfort him before you lick over his flesh and then sink your teeth in hard enough to leave a mark. as soon as he feels your canines, his back is jerking up from the mattress into a perfect arch and he’s gasping feverishly—all stuttered and urgent. you laugh warmly around his flesh caught between your jaws, crinkle your nose with the effort, then let him go. you soothe over the bite with your tongue. his face screws up, his cock throbs back to full-mast, and the first tear spills from the outer corner of his eye. right on schedule. art loves being bitten, but it overwhelms him terribly. mouthing mindlessly at the indentations of your teeth in his skin, you let him be coaxed back to the edge.

“.. ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, i—i didn’t mean to, everything just happened so fast, and i—“ he sniffles, trying to catch his breath after your recent act of tender sadism. he doesn’t get much time to do so though before your accomplice is having his way with him once more.

patrick gropes at art’s pecs and rubs the cream in, ignoring how close he was to finishing mere minutes ago as he’d been getting some of the best head of his life. blondie is a pro at oral, he performs it like his life depends on whether or not he can make the person fall apart over his tastebuds. pat’s fingers toy with the pink buds on art’s chest and he smirks devilishly when his tennis partner tips his head back and squirms like an overexcited puppy.

“relax,” the brunette murmurs, leaning down just a bit, thumbs rubbing merciless circles over art’s nipples, “and stick your fuckin’ tongue out.”

art does as he’s told. no complaints. why would he? a desperate moan pours from his chest as his mouth opens and is instantly flooded with the sugary taste of smooth vanilla bean—the body cream. patrick’s middle and ring finger nearly suffocate him as they slide as deep as his dick had been. art coughs. he splutters, really. he drools. then he succumbs to the sensations and lets himself be used. the hand still on his chest rubs relentlessly at his right tit.

“uuungh—!” he whines around the digits, feeling a pit of prickly heat boil in his stomach for the second time, “wai—.. w-wait.. i think i—ohh, fuck..! haah—haah-!”

but you can hardly understand him with his mouth full.

you chuckle, making victorious eye-contact with patrick for only a fraction of a second, and then pepper chaste pecks to his tensing lower limbs. art’s golden curls cling to his dewy forehead and splay out over the pillow. he looks princely like this. it only makes you want to take him apart more viciously.

pat dips down and suddenly licks over the top half of art’s chest, letting his spit-covered fingers retreat from the blonde’s orifice and rub at the leftmost bundle of nerves. the man under him nearly wails.

“mmn.. cotton candy icecream,” he whispers playfully before languidly kissing another spot, “or maybe it’s supposed to be sugar cookie,” he kisses another area, “or birthday cake..”

each touch of pat’s mouth has art’s noises pitching higher. more pathetic, more obscene, and certainly indicative of his second climax beginning to creep in and muddle his thoughts, as if he wasn’t already a bit too delirious with ecstasy to function properly. he wonders if he can even withstand the mental weight of another one, but it’s not like he can stop it—even if he did want to. he’s completely at the mercy of you two, and he doesn’t yet plan to attempt to wriggle free.

you’re too entranced by the lewd interaction displayed in front of you to do what you had intended, so you hold yourself steady between art’s legs as the muscles continue to flex and twitch around your head. in the blink of an eye, pat is taking art’s right nipple into his mouth and suckling like he expects milk to flow.

that’s plenty for poor, helpless artie. the rush of fiery gratification floods his body and has him sobbing out a handful of frenzied syllables. his cock bobs in vain against his tummy, gushing more milky fluid.

“im coming,” he yelps, “im coming, hard, hard, hard, im—AAH-“

patrick pulls his pout from art’s bud with a slick pop and flutters his tongue over it afterward to let his buddy ride out his high. he waits until the tremors have subsided before lifting his head and taking in the sight of the spent form twitching on the comforter.

“good boy,” he groans, unable to stop himself from reaching down to jerk his cock in his fist, overcome with arousal from watching art finish twice in no more than seven or eight measly minutes.

now it’s your turn.

you get the last one.

“such a good boy, baby,” you echo pat’s sentiment, not giving your toy a moment more of reprieve before you’re sucking at his softening, hypersensitive cock. you expect his previous two loads to overpower the flavor of the lotion, but they don’t—art eats extremely healthily, so his come hardly tastes like much of anything at all. it’s like he’s made of strawberry shortcake. he’s sweet all-over. you swirl your tongue as you feel his length kick with overstimulation against the roof of your mouth.

“FUCK—“

he squeals, shaking his head, thrashing like a fish-out-of-water. his hands race to squeeze your shoulders, pawing at them and trying to push you away, even if part of him wants nothing more than to pull you in closer. patrick sees this and takes the initiative to check in—he’s good at that.

“you want it to stop?” he strokes his messy fingertips through art’s strands, combing them out a bit as he watches his expression crumple, “y’wanna be all done? if you wanna be done, you gotta tell us.. you know how it works. if you can’t talk, give me the taps. three, and it’ll all be over.. just like that.”

art’s eyes squeeze shut tighter at his best friend’s reassuring instructions. his hands move from your shoulders to fumble blindly for pat’s wrist, clutching it like a lifeline as the sensation of your tongue and lips sends him hurtling toward a third and final release. it coils and stretches and brews in his gut like it’s threatening to tear him apart from the inside-out. he’s hot to the touch, body trembling uncontrollably, a slew of unintelligible noises leaving him as everything builds, and builds, and builds..

“you can give us one more,” patrick mumbles lowly into art’s cheek, “one more.. here it comes.. here it comes, dude..”

you moan encouragingly around art’s length, slurping around it and bobbing your head in imitation of the way he had when he was going down on your dominant counterpart. you look up to his face, you lick at his precome, you pat the side of his torso. he knows that that means. you’re ready to drink everything he can give.

he crashes.

patrick tugs at the back of his hair just the way he likes, you rub your tongue rapidly against his frenulum, and he mewls painfully through the last climax his nervous system is willing to grant him. his thighs clamp down around your face and keep you held close, his dick throbbing in your throat as he spills over. ropes pour one after the other as you swallow—the feeling of your throat convulsing around him only prolonging the intoxicating nature of every tingle and thrum of pleasure that runs up his spine.

“hurt—hurts, hngh, n-no.. can’t.. o-okay—please—done—“ he hiccups out after only a few more short moments, tears fully spilling down the sides of his face and over his temples now. you pull yourself slowly off of him and revel in the way his abdomen contracts in response to the last blinks of sensitivity. you gasp for air when you’re sat back upright, and then you’re crawling up to cup art’s cheek.

“we’ve got you.. you’re alright,” you kiss the words into his neck, patrick moving to press a kiss to his brow as well, “didn’t that feel so good?”

art manages a nod, but that’s all he has in him. everything else has left his brain and melted into the bedsheets. it’ll be a while before he’s back to his usual self. you and pat know what he needs—this is almost routine by now.

“we’ll get you cleaned up and taken care of, yeah?” you hum.

he nods again. his eyes flutter under heavy lids. he stifles a tiny whimper.

you watch as the brunette idly palms his flaccid cock, his hand frothy with a release you hadn’t even realized he experienced. must’ve finished when art did. disappointment fidgets and flares in your chest at the thought of missing one of your boys’ orgasms. it makes you frown a bit, but then you get an idea. one that only makes sense—is only fair—right? your lips drag against the outside of art’s ear.

“gotta get you rested up, artie.. tomorrow’s patrick’s turn..”

taglist : @voidsuites @fawnnpaws @artstennisracket @imperishablereverie @ghostgirl-22 @lexiiscorect @cha11engers @patricksbf @newrochellechallenger2019 @pittsick @blastzachilles @oncefaist @tacobacoyeet @nozhdyved @tinythebunni

[soratonin]

he should be biting the back of my shoulder in prone bone rn

[minswriting]

Post prison Spencer who can barely keep his hands to himself because he missed y/n so much🤭🤭

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader

spencer wasn’t usually a very handsy person. he, like most people, craved physical touch, adored it even. but he wasn’t the type to hold you constantly. however, after months being locked up in a prison cell for a crime he didn’t commit, spencer just couldn’t get enough of you after getting out.

firstly, he had to take some time off of the BAU, leaving him with nothing to do other than his mandated therapy session. and secondly, after being so pent up, he just wanted you constantly. you would wake up to spencer eating you out, with prior consent of course, you’d come home from work and spencer just drops to his knees, ready to devour you right then and there, and the amount of times he would fuck you on the couch during a movie night was crazy.

you weren’t complaining at all. you missed him so much as well. you had spent months having to take care of your own sexual needs but truth be told, you could never make yourself feel as good as spencer could. he knew your body better than you knew your own.

so just as spencer was so handsy with you, grabbing you, fucking you, feeling you up, you were just as handsy with him. so much so that you gave him a blowjob in an alleyway after a date night because you just couldn’t wait until you got home. or that time you gave him a handjob while he was on the phone.

you both were just so needy for each other. and you were just so grateful to have your boyfriend back in your arms. you missed his warmth terribly and he missed yours as well.

[bunnis-monsters]

Momo would you ever let us play with your hair like running our fingers through it or styling it and vice versa? - 🌸 Anon

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Momo leans forward, his eyes sparkling.

His hair feels soft and fluffy, like rabbit fur. He purrs and leans into it, nudging your hand. You end up scratching behind his bunny ears and playing with them too as your comb your fingers through his blonde locks.

“Bunny hybrids usually groom the dominant one,” he said smugly, continuing to rub against you. “So pet away, princess.”

Now you’re stuck petting, scratching, and playing with his hair until he’s satisfied…

[rafeysvenicebitch]

AMERICAN PSYCHO

OLDER!RAFE X READER

IN WHICH

Rafe Cameron is a wealthy and polished man, concealing a dark, violent side. He’s charismatic, charming, and ruthless in his pursuit of success, operating in high society with a carefully constructed facade. Y/n is a successful young woman, driven and talented, with a blossoming career in the arts. Rafe becomes fixated on her after a chance encounter, unable to shake his obsession. He begins to stalk her, inserting himself into her life under various pretenses. At first, he’s all charm and allure, offering help and connections, but his darker nature slowly unravels as he becomes more envious and possessive of her. Y/n is drawn to him at first, unaware of his dangerous tendencies, but soon begins to sense that something isn’t right. Despite the red flags, she can’t seem to distance herself from him, as Rafe’s hold on her grows stronger. Rafe’s obsession intensifies as he becomes willing to do anything — and hurt anyone — to keep Y/n in his orbit. His interactions with her become more erratic, veering between extreme generosity and cold, calculated cruelty. Y/n’s life becomes a battle between her career ambitions and escaping Rafe’s suffocating grip, as she navigates the tension between desire and fear. Meanwhile, Rafe is driven to prove that he’s the only one who can truly “understand” her, obsessively shaping her world in his image. Rafe slowly descends into madness, and Y/n struggles to break free from his control.

MASTERLIST

🔪001 🔪002 🔪003 🔪004 🔪005 ���006 🔪007 🔪008 🔪009 🔪010 🔪011 🔪012 🔪013🔪014 🔪016 🔪017 🔪018 🔪019 🔪020🔪021 🔪022 🔪023 🔪024🔪025 🔪026 🔪027🔪028 🔪029 🔪030(g.e)🔪030.2(b.e)

EXTRAS

🔪Rafe getting released from jail

Taglist: @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @memoirofasparklemuff1n @rafesbabygirlx @susanhill @slut4you @moneybaby07 @iluvblue-blog1 @hnelizzie @st4rgirlmar1e @akobx

Message me to be on the Taglist!!

[twst-aceofhearts]

Hi !

I know Ace is your favorite, so I want to request Ace inviting reader to basketball club to show off lol

🌸 anon

Full-Court Crush

a/n: ACEEEEEEee words: 730 taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

You probably should’ve expected Ace to make a big deal out of this.

“Come to basketball club today,” he said, leaning on your desk with a lazy grin. “Promise I’ll give you a good show.”

At the time, you thought he meant a normal practice. Drills. Sweat. Maybe some light yelling.

What he meant was: “Come watch me play at 150% power just to impress you and almost snap my own ankle.”

Now, sitting on the bleachers with a bottle of water in hand, you watched him dart across the court with exaggerated flair, flashing you a wink every time he made a shot. His movements were just a little too flashy, a little too cocky.

Yep. He was absolutely showing off.

“Ohhh, Shrimpy~ Look who Acey invited to watch him play~” Floyd sang from across the court, eyes narrowing in amusement as he spotted you. He grinned like he’d discovered your deepest secret. “Trying to look cool today, huh~?”

Jamil, passing the ball back to Ace, gave a low sigh. “Trappola, if you’re done flirting, we have drills.”

“I am doing drills,” Ace retorted, catching the pass with a dramatic spin. “Just with style.”

He glanced at you again—and immediately lost control of the ball as it bounced off his foot and skidded toward the bench.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. “Style. Right.”

Floyd cackled, practically doubling over. “Acey tripped over his own ego~!”

You gave Ace a sympathetic look from the bleachers. He stood up quickly, trying to act like nothing happened, tossing his hair back like the ball had simply disobeyed him.

“Still nailed that shot earlier though!” he called to you, flashing a grin. “You see it?”

You nodded, trying not to laugh. “I saw.”

Ace’s grin widened. Jamil groaned audibly.

During scrimmage, things only got worse.

Ace kept calling for the ball even when he wasn’t open, took a wild three-pointer that missed by a mile, and kept glancing over at you so much he got elbowed in the ribs by Floyd.

“You’re gonna sprain your dignity, Acey,” Floyd said, not at all kindly. “And maybe your neck if you keep twisting around like that~”

“Stay focused,” Jamil snapped, intercepting a pass with surgical precision. “You’re not here to perform. You’re here to practice.”

“I am focused!” Ace yelled, almost slipping as he tried to pivot. “I’m just… multitasking!”

“Multitasking badly,” Jamil muttered.

You had to admit, you were trying to hold in laughter now. You’d never seen Ace this flustered on a court—and it was entirely your fault.

And maybe Floyd’s.

Okay, definitely Floyd’s.

When practice finally ended, Ace jogged over to you, cheeks flushed from exertion—and embarrassment.

He flung a towel around his neck and leaned forward, hands on his hips.

“Well?” he said, trying to sound smug through his heavy breathing. “Impressed?”

You gave him a long look. “You mean the part where you tried to do a one-handed spin layup and ran into Floyd?”

“That wasn’t my fault! He moved into my lane!”

Floyd sauntered by, still grinning. “Your ‘lane’ was my spine~”

Ace shot him a glare, then looked back at you. “Okay, okay, maybe I got a little carried away. But you showed up, and I wanted to make it worth it.”

You smiled. “You didn’t have to try that hard, you know.”

He blinked. “I didn’t?”

You shook your head. “You’re always cool. Even when you trip over your own feet.”

Ace turned red instantly.

Floyd let out a howl of laughter from the water station. “They called you cool even after that?! You’re soooo lucky, Acey~!”

Jamil walked past, grabbing his bag. “The bar is on the floor.”

“Okay, everyone shut up!” Ace groaned, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the gym doors. “We’re leaving. No more commentary.”

You let him drag you away, still laughing. “Ace, you’re ridiculous.”

“I try,” he said with a dramatic sigh. Then, a little quieter: “But I really am glad you came.”

You glanced at him. “Even though you embarrassed yourself?”

He smirked. “If it made you smile? Worth it.”

BONUS:

Back in the locker room:

Floyd: “He was so red the whole time. Like a strawberry.”

Jamil: “That’s what happens when your entire game plan is flirting.”

Floyd: “Think Shrimpy’s gonna wear his jersey next time~?”

Jamil: “If they do, Ace might actually pass out.”

[chxrryhansen]

Steve with a MASSIVE breeding kink mmmmffffgggg…. 🤤

- 🌸

hi baby🥺 i’m so sorry that it took me this long to get to your ask, steve is such a family man so this always makes me go wild.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

“oh fuckkk”

you moaned as steve continued to thrust inside of you, hitting your cervix and bottoming out with each thrust.

“yeah, you like that? you like it when daddy fucks this slutty hole?” he taunted from above, his blond locks sticking to his forehead in concentration, angling his hips just right, hitting your g spot.

“love it daddy, so so much, you fuck me s’ good.” you whined, hips writhing on his thick length.

he let out a deep groan as your cunt clenched around him, “such a good little whore for daddy, always letting me fill you up with my fat cock.. maybe it’s about time you let me fill that pretty pussy with somethn’ else, hmm?”

you threw your head back in ecstasy at the thought of how good his cum filling you up would feel, letting out a high pitch, almost pornographic moan.

“fuck. you love idea of that, huh baby? it’s okay, daddy’s gonna’ fuck this slutty cunt til’ my cums leakin’ down your legs for days. can’t wait to see your tummy grow n’ watch you mother my children.” he growled, his arm wrapping around your throat, squeezing harshly, forcing you to look up at him.

the room echoed with the sound of skin clapping, his hips pummelling against your ass, sure to leave bruises from the brutal force of his thrusts.

“please can i cum, daddy? wanna’ cum s’ bad.” you managed to choke out against his harsh grip.

“such a greedy girl, go ahead baby, soak daddy’s cock.”

you let out a scream as you came, the knot in your stomach finally letting loose, your cream forming a white ring around the base of steve’s shaft.

“shittt. look at the mess you made, sweet girl. creaming all over daddy’s cock like a fuckin’ whore. squeezin’ me like a fuckin’ vice, fuck. you’re gonna’ make me cum. gonna’ breed this pussy so good, get your belly all swollen n’ full of my kids.” he breathed, his abs tightening as his load came shooting out, ropes of hot, sticky, cum filling your cunt to the brim. still continuing to cum as it began leaking out of your pussy and down your thighs.

he always did stay true to his word.

[krys4h]

𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ◞﹒୧ .

✧ ⁝ 𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 ◞ ྀི

— my thoughts & headcanons on how i think he would be as a lover (or not...) fluff, nsfw, hurt.

𓍯 a silent lover. the type to love in secret, hidden from sight. cold facade, worried heart for his loved ones. you feel his affection in the little things like when you feel down and he always prepares your favorite meal without a word, trying to create comfort and affection that he can't express with words. a confession would be too loud for him.

𓍯 he prefers to watch, observe and protect those he cares about behind their backs. the type to lie to you about his schedule - because it's physically impossible for him to verbalize his feelings - and go secretly confront a devil who was giving you a hard time.

𓍯 aki loves to make love to you during rainy days, forehead pressed against yours, his breath brushing your lips. it's intimate, despite the fact he run away from any emotional intimacy. he can't say i love you with his mouth, makima's shadow covering his heart and his words but he can convey his feelings in his kisses, his hands that circle around your clit, touching in spots nobody did.

𓍯 his eyes that soften only for yours will always follow you, everywhere you're going.

𓍯 he spend his night looking at you when you're sleeping, wondering why God gave him such a gift in his life but not enough time to cherish it.

𓍯 you always felt it even though it was silent. he seemed so detached from you, always careful that his eyes didn't linger on you for too long - attempt failed, they always found you -, you had to squint, see the unsaid, and understand the innuendos to perceive the love he had for you.

𓍯 it takes time. it takes time to go from a cold look when judging a stranger, to the first nods, the first half-smiles that precede the softened glances. it took him time to get used to having someone who cares for him like you do. maybe it was complicated to accept the fact that he was finally the first choice for someone, and not the forgotten youngest of his family like he always was. your warm air when you saw him coming from afar felt weird for him, almost inappropriate. when you seemed too happy to see him he couldn't help but frown at how your eyes always looked illuminated for him. weird. almost inappropriate.

𓍯 it takes time, but the slight pang in his heart he feels every time he feels your affection for him is slowly starting to disappear. he can't be openly expressive like you, but he's starting to accept it. it takes time. his love is silent when yours is so loud that it becomes overwhelming and he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

𓍯 it's understandable, everyone is dying around him. he's the only one who hasn't lost his humanity yet and mourns the deaths of those who defend the people of this city. it touches him. death scares him so much that he can't allow himself to truly get attached to someone, it would be like welcoming someone with big arms for a hug with arms full of thorns. to engulf you, to make you dive with him. no, he can't. he really can't.

𓍯 it doesn't matter how his breath hitches every time he feels when your silhouette towers over him, your hips undulating in the most exquisite way, so eager to please him. he doesn't even need to guide you with his hands on your hips, it's already too good. it doesn't matter the almost painful but sweet feeling he has in his stomach when the lights are out with the only sounds being the creaking bed and your soft breath. he feels so safe with you, you make him so wanted that he starts to think that life might be worth living outside of his desire for revenge.

𓍯 but it doesn't matter, he can't say "i love you", the poor man doesn't even manage to smile normally. there's always an awkward look.

𓍯 he was so caught up in the curse of his family's vengeance that he had closed himself off from any relationship that went beyond the professional sphere. but... it was hard not to succumb to you. he couldn't give you the bright future and romance you deserved, but he could give you the remnants of his heart he had left. working with you, doing missions and hunting devils together, and sometimes, when you were a little too drunk, kisses on the neck that would slip into panting. no commitment. that was what he could offer you. he thought it would protect him from the loss of not putting a word on your relationship, like a wall for pain. he lied to himself so much. he was already madly in love, and if he were to lose you right now, it would be the end of him.

𓍯 it was up to you to decode if the hands that brushed you at night sought only for pleasure or for your heart, because even if for a moment, you would lose control of your emotions and let your love for him express itself, an "i love you" that should have remained hidden, he would not answer it.

𓍯 aki loves you too, that's a fact. but he wouldn't let you see it. he wasn't going to make the mistake of investing too much in a relationship that was inevitably going to go badly, and make you hope. you deserved better, he thought. you were his heaven in the hell that was the daily life of a devil hunter. so dear, so precious to him.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

can you maybe write something about jj always wanting to eat his girl out if that's okay:D

oh so close

pairing(s): bf!jj maybank x gf!fem!reader

warnings: implied oral, pet names, talks of sex

summary: jj begs to return the favor to his favorite girl.

authors note: thank you for the request, hun! enjoy :))

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“please, please, please?” jj begged with his head laying on your stomach.

you chuckled to yourself. “no,” you replied.

“why?” he whined.

“maybe cause you just did it this morning? i need a break too,” you said, stifling a laugh.

he pouted and groaned. “you’ve had like 7 hours between then. you’ll be fine, baby.”

“i’m still sensitive, jj,” you reminded him.

he glared up at you. “even better,” he stated. “please, pretty girl? you know i’ll make you feel good.”

“i know you will,” you replied. “but you already did this morning.”

“you can go twice in one day, i know you can. you’ve done it before,” he said with a sweet smile.

you hated how soft and pretty he looked like this. you hated how you couldn’t help but say yes when he was looking at you like this, all pouty with glossy eyes.

“fine.”

the smile that took over his lips was huge as he urgently began to move down to lay between your legs. “trust me, sweetheart. i’ll make it so much better than this morning.”

[oscquinn]

friends to lovers with rookie jack please

hi!! i got sidetracked by the plot but it's supposed to be set the same summer he got drafted <33 rated g. as always,,, all fluff :))

you've known jack hughes since the both of you were in diapers, toddling around on mini skates at the neighborhood pond in the winter. he wasn't the star player in your mind, to you he was just... jack.

"yeah, you've got it!" he calls out to you, dark curls soaked from a dip in the lake. you hold on to the handle for dear life as quinn throttles the boat. your feet stay planted on the small board, and a grin spreads across your face. luke claps, hollering as you keep your balance for the first time.

eventually quinn runs out of water to speed through, he slows the boat to stop in a gentle curve, and you jump off the board in a failed attempt at a flip.

you resurface with a wide smile, gathering up the board before swimming to the back of the boat. jack and luke take turns on the board until the sun sinks low in the horizon. you try again occasionally, working on balance and letting loose, but you preferred the mini boating lessons you were getting from quinn.

he let you drive the boat into the dock, sitting next to you with one hand loosely on the wheel just in case. quinn congratulates you with a pat on the back before ha stands, turning to jack. "why don't you teach her how to tie the boat?"

jack protests at first, claiming luke is better at tying, but he gives in after a moment. luke hangs around on the back of the boat, long legs dangling so his feet touched the water, but quinn had other plans. "lukey! c'mon, mom needs help with dinner."

the youngest hughes rises obediently, stepping around you and jack before hopping onto the dock. you sit on the edge of the boat and watch as jack steps off. his hands coil the rope around the hitch seamlessly, biceps flexing under the weight of it.

"see, so you go in a cross, like this," he shows you. "then you uh..." he trails off, tying the knot in quiet concentration. when he's done he looks up at you sheepishly.

his cheeks are pink, soft freckles are visible across the bridge of his nose, and his skin is that same gorgeous tan that it gets in the summer. fuck, you want to kiss him.

jack says your name, his face inching closer to yours. "do you... can- can i kiss you?"

you nod immediately, then his lips are on yours. he tastes like lemonade, smells like suntan lotion, and his hand is warm against your hip. kissing jack hughes feels like a dream. you're not entirely sure it's real until he pulls away, and you hear a wolf whistle from up the hill.

quinn claps, t shouting to you, "dinner's ready, lovebirds!"

[bloomseishiro]

he’s a 10, but . . . — the bllk boys and why they aren’t a 10

౨ৎ ft. rin, nagi, sae

contents. established relationship, fluff, crack, all fun and games lolol, fem!reader, the she’s a 10 buts are all me ok if u can relate ily hajdkkaxk

[jesuistrestriste]

more art x milf reader! we all say in unison 🙇‍♀️

cw (18+) : needy!art donaldson, milf!reader, jealousy, masturbation, mention of alcohol/intoxication, pillow humping, mommy kink

it was usually hard to tell if she was flirting with him or just being her usual, saccharine-sweet self. whenever he and her would converse, a generally rare and heaven-sent occasion, he’d pay careful attention to her appearance and the little details she seemed to keep consistent each time; deep mauve lipstick perfectly slicked to her pout, freshly manicured nails, low rise jeans that hugged her curves in a way that made his stomach fizzle and flood with heat.

right after the most recent match on campus, he’d been granted another opportunity to have a full, lengthy discussion with her. he was absolutely dripping with salty sweat and panting like a dog, but she didn’t seem to mind too much at the time—batting her lashes and patting the seat next to her to invite him closer. he had wiped at his damp brow when they began to talk, pulling at his collar afterwards (burning up from the inside out), and then made sure that he was smiling at all of the right times as he listened to her speak. he tried his hardest to focus on the words leaving her mouth: tennis player.. thrilling match point.. congratulations.. you’re a star. the nervous laugh that clogged his throat when he registered her praising sentiment only caused his cheeks to flare a deeper shade of pink, and his fingers reflexively squeezed the metal edge of the bleachers underneath him. she’d smiled in return and only doubled-down on her compliments then. he just had to sit there and take it, fidgeting and folding his legs into different positions to try to hide the swell of his desire. it was a mess of an interaction, and art was well-aware how embarrassing it was for him to be acting like a teenage boy in front of such a sophisticated, charming, yet down-to-earth older woman, but he sincerely could not help himself. it was impossible to stay sane in her presence.

the universe gifted him a couple more similar interactions with her in the following month, and this only worked to solidify his (wildly inappropriate) obsession. he’d go to class and think about her bubbly laughter, he’d eat in the dining hall and forget to chew when thoughts of her mouth infected his mind, and he’d even started to lose himself in her image when he was playing tennis—which, for him, was incredibly damning. tennis was usually a healthy distraction, a coping mechanism, as it rarely allowed him to get lost in irrelevant ideas. his head was almost always in the game. so, when he was in the middle of a practice singles match with another stanford player one evening and missed a shot because a flash of her thighs rendered him boneless and swallowing a whimper, he knew he had a real problem.

masturbation didn’t even help.

not in the slightest.

he jerked off in the showers regularly, fisting his aching, angry cock with urgency as he pressed his forehead into the tile wall and moaned her name into the running water. he’d buck his hips to gain friction against his palm when he orgasmed, clapping his free hand over his mouth to stifle his repetitive mewling, and then would watch as his wasted load swirled down the drain.

it was all very routine. it usually was a temporary solution to the desperate and persistent yearning he felt during every agonizing minute of every torturous day. more broadly, it was just hard to ignore the reality that he’d never been so horny in his entire life—and it was all because of her, though he could never truly blame her beauty. his perverse nature was the real culprit.

the only time that he’d successfully been able to get off and get over her for longer than an hour happened when he came back to his dorm room after a party thrown by a handful of the other members of the tennis team. he’d gotten drunk on beer and cheap shots, egregiously so, but still found himself stumbling into his room with half of an erection bulging in the front of his pants. as he kicked off his shoes and peeled off his bottoms, he recalled what one of his teammates had said about her in the middle of the function—

“she’s so fucking hot, isn’t she? i mean, shit, i’d do anything to fuck her.”

art had never considered himself a violently jealous person, but in that very moment at the party something ugly had reared its head and he’d wanted nothing more than to put his fist to the guy’s teeth until his own knuckles cracked and bled. the guy had never even talked to her before, whereas it could be argued that art and her were almost friends. if anyone deserved to squeeze her plush tits and slide their unworthy dick into her perfect pussy, it was him. he ended up having to walk away from that cesspool of locker-room talk in order to avoid starting something that would surely land him in hot water with the university.

he took off his shirt and dropped it down onto his floor to meet his other garments as he staggered deeper into his cramped living space, crawling up to lay on his twin xl. his hand was immediately in his boxers in the next moment, fondling his warm flesh as it swelled hungrily in his touch, and he groaned and shuddered as he felt his head spin wildly. art then turned to flip himself gracelessly over onto his stomach, limbs moving uncoordinatedly with each brief shift of his weight. his jaw slacked and he gasped pathetically into his sheets as he humped his curled set of digits. though, when he blinked his eyes open blearily, his wasted brain formed a filthy idea..

“ohhh, fuck me,” he whimpered, shoving a pillow from the top of his mattress between his legs, his pelvis arching back only to rut forward and smush his clothed shaft into the cushion, “i’m all yours.. please, use m’cock.. don’t take anyone else’s, i wan’ be the only one—!”

he slurred through every lewd word that left his mouth. his abdomen curled and tensed as he began to feverishly hump the softness under him, his cock throbbing with incoming drizzles of pleasure. he clawed at his bedding like he was some sort of drooling, snarling, chained-up monstrosity. felt like one too with all of the arousal paralyzing his frame. every cell in his being was on fire with the debilitating need to be nestled in her sopping cunt, hugged by her slick walls and pleasing her any way that he was able. he imagined sucking on her nipples until she pulled his hair.. her soft tongue on the seam of his sack.. her fingers at the back of his throat, fluttering and giving him something to worship as he pounded up into her. his thrusts quickened to sync with the rapid beating of his heart in his ribcage. he was so close that he almost felt sick with it all.

art's noises raised in pitch and volume with every second; everything was boiling over in record time.

“oh no—“ he drunkenly choked and moaned, teetering on the edge, “mommy, i’m gonna come inside you—i’m, i’m so—it feels s’good, i can’t hol’ it anymore—please don’t b’mad, i really like y—HAAH—“

he pushed himself up onto his palms and let out a strangled, wet cry as he suddenly felt the world close in on him. head tipped back, toes curled, muscles flexed. white flashes erupted behind his low lids, something hot gushing copiously from his tip and into his underwear.. over and over and over and over again. a final curse flew from his lips as his climax wrapped its arms around his body and flooded him with the last bits of boiling gratification—so much so that it was almost numbing. his hips moved jerkily through the lingering sensations; they snapped downward several times until the spilling of fluids ceased and was only replaced by the feeling of all-consuming oversensitivity. art quaked from his head down to his toes, squirming and hiccuping against the stimulation that only he could save himself from.

when he finally collapsed into a panting heap, the fantasy of her core wringing him dry starting to fade out, he'd sucked at his bottom lip and let out the tiniest of whines.

“mommy.. mommy, mommy, mommy..”

he whimpered it until he fell asleep.

tags : @voidsuites @asheepinfrance @fawnnpaws @artstennisracket @andyrambles @imperishablereverie @ghostgirl-22 @lexiiscorect @cha11engers @patricksbf @newrochellechallenger2019 @pittsick @blastzachilles @oncefaist

[jamal127]

CollegeBoyfriend!Suguru x f!reader

Warnings: None. Pure fluff!

Word count: 232

CollegeBoyfriend!Suguru who helps you with biology class even though he has enough to do with his studies. But he can’t bear to see you struggle without feeling the urge to drop everything to help you, despite falling behind in his classes.

CollegeBoyfriend!Suguru who always says yes to a study session with you even though he knows it will turn into a yap session like it does every time. And despite knowing this he will never turn down your requests.

CollegeBoyfriend!Suguru who during exam nights sleeps with you in your dorm because he knows that cuddling will calm down your nervousness before exams and that your stubbornness would never ask him of it. But what you don’t know is that holding you in his arms also makes him forget all his exam worries.

CollegeBoyfriend!Suguru who celebrates your victories like it is his own, so when you tell him you got an A on your exams he hugs you tightly out of relief. He surprises you with a movie night so you two can relax at home in each other's presence because he knows you would be too tired to go out after exams.

CollegeBoyfriend!Suguru who noticed that you dozed off just 15 minutes into the movie from being tired because of exams. He carries you to your bed where he looks at you fondly and kisses your forehead whispering in your ear good night

©jamal127 ✧ all rights served. || 2025  (≖ᴗ≖✿)

[puckingeccedentesiast]

begging for quinn hughes and “How did you end up like this?” 😵‍💫

Quinn considered himself a tool-body. He was smart and good enough with his hands to fix little problems around both yours and his own respective apartments. A flat battery in a smoke detector, sorted. A leaky window sill, plugged up with silicone before anything could sneak in.

However, on a quaint, sunny Saturday afternoon Quinn went in a little too far over his head when it was decided he would tackle a small plumbing issue. A leaky faucet, which had been dripping in his kitchen.

Quinn very quickly recognised that he was in far over his head, or in this case his ankles as water flowed, ankle-deep around him. The faucet now turned waterfall was doing little but gushing into the overflowing sink and flooding Quinn’s kitchen. Sodden towels, buckets and makeshift damns were easily over run.

His situation was just plain comedy, a broken wrench in his hand, pipes floating around the kitchen in the miniature swimming pool and water leaking from places it definitely wasn’t meant to be leaking from.

The kitchen, now turned watery battle zone had pots and pans strewn around to stop the flooding, the YouTube video Quinn had been watching in which a few steps were absolutely missed.

When you swung open the door, seeing Quinn standing there like a dear in headlights you couldn’t help but let out a light scoff and smirk.

“Quinn, how did you end up like this?” You asked with mock seriousness, this situation was secretly highly amusing you.

Trying to play it cool Quinn looked back at you, absentmindedly flicking his wrist with the spanner in it, "Okay, so, I watched this video—twice, mind you—and I thought I had it under control. But apparently, there's, like, a valve... or maybe a nut? I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure I turned the wrong one, and—well—everything sort of... exploded?"

You stood there and couldn’t help burst into a fit of giggles as you very clearly remember Quinn stating, “No! Don’t call a plumber, I can handle this!” Reaching for your phone you capture some pictures for future blackmail you asked, “Need me to call that plumber now?”

Thank you for requesting my lovely Ivy! It made my day and I hope this lives up to your standards!