#come to blue lock

[miyamiwu]

How to say “I love you” in Blue Lock

I don’t really want to play soccer, but being with you isn’t a pain, so it’s fine.

Now that I can fight without you, being with you is even more fun

And then there’s this asshole...

I made it this far because of you. Since you allowed me to play soccer freely, I’ve grown this strong on Bastard München. But I can’t climb any higher that way. I figured that out in this match, I no longer need the freedom you give me. Forget about me, Ness. Find yourself a new king. It’s easier for me to live in restriction.

[jenoutof10]

love blue lock season 2 so far

[rinnstars]

good luck charm!

things they do before a (winning) match

bllk boys x reader (reo, rin, sae): fluff, drabbles, pro!player, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!

reo mikage:

reo’s always thought of superstitions stupid: the way his parents ask fortune tellers about specific dates and time for certain events from business investment to even when to host meetings, the way his friends would follow superstitions told by their parents from crossing their fingers before receiving their results to avoiding cracks at the pathways in school, the way he recluntantly follow them because its “tradition”. but maybe he’s no different from them, he thinks. its the big match: one that will decide whether he’ll prove his father wrong - the world cup finale. he’s anxious: his hands are all sweaty and shaky as he puts down his water bottle, water still dripping from it from the mouth of it, his heart is beating the fastest its ever had as though he’s about to have a heart attack, and his mind is hazy with self-deprecating thoughts that practically chain him to the seats. he closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing, he has only a few more minutes left before he has to get on field, a few more minutes before he either makes it and becomes a professional footballer or break it and be enchained to his family company for the rest of his life.

superstition. good luck charms. reo’s getting desperate, he’ll take whatever at this point. whether its removing that polaroid of you from the back of his phone to trace with his shaky fingers and press his lips against, or placing the cold matching necklace with you against his palm to cool his nerve down to focus onto the freezing sensation over the beating o his heart, or even taking your spare candies from his bag to chew on one or two. and he’ll let the sweetness burst in his mouth: ignore the drying of his mouth as he walks out on field, ignore shakiness of his entire being, ignore his heart failing him.

and when reo kicks the last goal, his eyes instantly search for yours in the crowd of people, recognising you within a few seconds amongst the millions cheering. and he thinks: you might just be his guardian angel, after all its with you that hes able to win. and perhaps, that cold necklace might calm him down more if it was a ring on his fingers, he gets real fidgetive before a match after all.

itoshi rin

in contrast to what others think, rin’s a nervous wreck before a match, especially one where hes now competing against his brother: no longer part of blue lock, but in a team, on the global stage. hes insecure, he knows he’ll never compare to sae, hes aware of that since he was a little kid he thinks by the countless of golden awards that people credit sae for rather him, countless of opportunities only given to sae and never to him. and his usual routine is thrown out of the window: he cant just rely on just motivsting himself to perform by thinking of those burning feelings im his chest, cant just rely on pure instincts he thinks as his legs turn into jelly, cant rely on himself solely. its not the first time either he feels like this: in his first match thst he won the night sae came back home for the first time, in his match at blue lock against u20 japan team, and now in his match against real madrid in the world cup finale. proving sae wrong: thats what hes been working on for the entirety of his teensge life, but for once, hes not so certain anymore. rin feels like a little kid, he feels lost, and he could run away: the door has always been open, and its not as though sae hasnt cursed him to this.

and rin’s spiralling again, the ring of his braclet that he bought with you the day before he first ever entered blue lock brings him back to reality: sitting on the bench in the locker room all alone when his other teammates are all chatting amongst themself a little further away from him. rin should go soon, he looks up at the clock, a few more minutes before showtime. and as always, like clockwork, he opens his phone and plays his favourite voice memo: one where you simply wish him good luck, telling him you believe he’ll win in that same cheery tune that he misses.

and when rin kicks the final goal, the world stops. silence, before the chant of the crowd overwhelms his ears and his teammate throw him on his shoulders: he made it. and yet, for the first time, instead of looking at his brother for validation, for his praise, for his reassurance: he finds you in the crowd and all he can think is now hoping you can rerecord that good luck message, maybe a video this time. after all, if your voice recording can help him to score two goals, he might just ace his next match with a personalised video from you: but for now, he’ll dedicate this win to you with a kiss to yours and his necklace.

itoshi sae

its just another match for sae: and yet he feels totally drained out compared to usual. no doubt, he’s lost his spark and passion that he used to hold on to tightly when he was a teenager, and he’s been playing simply for the sake of it. and maybe its tthe back to back matches that weighs him down like stones, or maybe its homesickness, missing everything he wants to chase back now that hes all grown, or maybe its simply the usual nervousness before a match. deep down, depsite his ambitions, hes insecure: hes no genius, he knows, it was a bitter revelation he finds out when he leaves, crying silently in the bathroom with no one around him but geniuses, and maybe it lingers in him: that hes never truly accepted his mediocrity. yet, he knows every and any match matters: he should get up now, join his teammates in those cheers, or at least get himself ready for the match starting in a few minutes instead of wallowing in his own misery, hogging the seats in the locker room. hes got all his usual routine done too: wearing the socks you bought him when he first came back from spain, stretched the way he was taught to, drank the water he needed to in the cute little water bottle he matches with you — but hes still missing something.

sae thinks its silly, he only does this ritual whenever its a big match, and this match is nothing special. logically, the opponents are much weaker and even at his current state, he’ll likely win them still. but he supposes he can indulge a little, after all its almost 6 months since hes seen you: with the season having started at the start of your internship. a minute before the match begins, and he hurriedly presses yours and his promise necklace onto his forehead as though a prayer and he walks with his teammates onto the field.

and when sae assists in the final goal, he smiles unconsciously in contrast to his usual self: he wonders if youre watching and he knows the answer when he opens his phone and sees you send a photo of news article speculating of his and yours promise necklace debut to the football world. he looks at the date, one more week, one more match until he gets to see you again — he cant wait already, but maybe while hes here in spain, maybe he should get you something special.

[izaanagi]

“How does it feel to have your pussy pounded down by the same dick you said you would not come within fifteen feet of? Mh, little peach?”

The words come out stumped, crumbling beneath the strength of the trusts of your boss’ pelvis, his cock balls deep into you. There is no space for any other sounds in your mouth besides the incoherent mumbling of your pussy being stretched. 

“Look at you becoming speechless as soon as you get railed. What a spectacle,” Shouei mutters, his mouth breathing on your neck, “your legs spread wide open only for me.”

The rhythm he has going in and out is steady, not fast enough to make you cum right away but not slow enough to drive you mad. As Barou readjusts, looming over you, an involuntary clench of your pussy envelops Barou’s cock for a second. The split moment is enough to make him hiss, as you tug on the disheveled tie still around his neck - his mouth missing yours by a centimeter. 

“If only I knew fucking you would make your mouth shut, I would have done this sooner.”

[shaisuki]

the world not knowing that the number one striker noel noa is married until the neo egoist league to the club's team manager.

who would assume that you're the wife of the best striker and working alongside with him to his club. the internet doesn't mind you as the manager sitting besides him while watching the matches against his team. too focused on the game but somehow the other netizens were too keen about you and your relationship with the striker. it doesn't take long for them to notice the subtle hints that there is something going between you two despite the professional settings.

there were cameras in the whole facility except for the sleeping quarters and it was broadcasted for the world to see and noel isn't so subtle about his affections towards you. stealing glances whenever you passed by and the gentle pats on the shoulder. the netizens began to pick the gestures one by one.

it even started a online forum about the striker's relationship.

@ilovesoccers: there is no way noel's married! @noelnoafan: definitely not. we should have known it from the start.

the comments started to flood and pictures began to circulate regarding with you two's relationship. there isn't a picture with you and noel but the small details were hinted in the photos and your whole history with the clubs you managed and theories were made of how you two meet. there were a few headlines featuring you and noel.

the world's best striker, married!?

the headlines read and followed by a long ass article about rumors with no basis.

@ahoge_style: you are all blind. look at the way he looks at her. that's not professional. he's definitely in love. @socxerfreak: i'm so sad. i can't have and marry noel 😭. best wishes though for them.

it's a private relationship between you and noel. deciding it's for the best since the whole world is focused on him and his life. he doesn't want anyone meddling with his private life but soccer is business and it was bound to happen when you're also part of his career.

the whole thing died down since the game were more important but there is a few posts popping every now and then. people were determined to know the true nature of noel's relationship with you.

after the neo egoist league, noel confirmed you two's relationship with two words. “we're married.” is what he said and he doesn't gave anymore information and that's between you two.

finally, he can kiss you whenever he wanted but that's only behind closed doors. he won't let anyone see any physical affections between you two. that's only reserved for you and him.

[eldritchenthusiast]

What they don’t tell you about being noa’s protege is the random and unskippable makeup tutorials

[trauma-bot]

sin eater

[quehecke]

gay fish

[kenyummy]

DREAM ꒰⚘݄꒱ NAGI ,, SHIDOU

SYNOPSIS : what do the blue lock boys dream about when they're away from you, training to be the greatest striker?

note: hi! again, this is the same thing i posted earlier, just nagi and shidou versions ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) both are mildly nsfw. um actually i just read through it and i take it back shidous one is like hella crazy. I'm not making it as nsfw because its more like super crazy making out but. uhmm... yeah. ˙ᵕ˙

nagi seishiro

There's a bright light everywhere. Nagi can hardly see, through the half-lidded lens of his eyes. He blinks a few times, and there's a muffled sound encasing his ears. It sounds like his name is being called out in a pleasing voice. That voice sounds nice. Nagi wonders who it belongs to.

Through his blurred eyes, he can make out vibrant colours of purple and black encasing the walls of wherever he is. It's mostly white noise—but Nagi can make out a hint of a pop song playing in the background, but he doesn't care for which.

He turns around, vision still hazy, until he meets a pair of eyes. Beautiful, bright eyes that sparkle under this blinding light—a pair of eyes that belonged to...

"[name]?" His vision is suddenly completely clear, and he can see you in perfect detail. You're standing there with a soft smile, a bag around your shoulder and dressed in flowy, casual clothes.

"You finally responded? Did you manage to get the Psyduck?" You walk forward and stand beside him—and only now does Nagi realise where he is.

The arcade, with [name]?

Is this a dream or something? This feels way too good to be true.

Your expression drops and you look at him, annoyed with your hands pressed against the glass—you look mad, but it feels more like an angry kitten rather than anything to Nagi, "You didn't even insert your token?"

Looking down into his hands—he didn't even feel the weight of the full cup of tokens in his grasp until you mentioned it. He blinks, eyes dulling. "Oh. Sorry." He responds dumbly, quickly inserting a token.

The claw machine lights up and blares embarrassingly loud music that draws attention, but you don't acknowledge it and only cheer when he moves the claw around, "Go, Nagi!" You whoop, and this makes the snow-haired boy feel even more determined to win that stupid platypus Pokemon.

He finally gets the claw into the perfect position and sends it down—it grabs onto the plushie, and for the first time ever, Nagi gets it on the first try. It gets sent down the winning hole, and you cheer in joy as Nagi bends down to pick it up.

He stares wordlessly at the plush for a second, looking into its cartoonishly stupid eyes, before looking back up at you, with your wonderfully large smile, and holding it out to you. "Got it for you."

You blink, looking up at him, then the duck, then him again, lips parted so invitingly. Then, you smile, cheeks flushed prettily, and you take the duck from his arms, and into your own grasp. Hugging it into your chest, you lower your face into the head of the platypus, "Thank you, Nagi... you really didn't have to. It's a date for both of us, after all."

A date...

This is a dream.

Nagi has this sudden realisation while looking around. You're here, and you feel like you—but isn't he supposed to be in Blue Lock? Working his ass off to become the best striker? He shouldn't be at some random arcade on a "date" with you. Ego would never let that happen.

So, the last explanation Nagi could come up with, is that this is all a dream. That's the only thing he could come up with. Nagi was never that smart, but even he could point out the inconsistencies that came with this whole scenario.

So... if this is all a dream... I can do whatever I want.

He swallows thickly.

With no repercussions. This is all in my head... and anything I want can happen.

Nagi moves forward and suddenly hugs you close to his chest. You yelp in surprise but do not push him off or say anything—simply accepting his warmth engulfing your figure. He digs his nose into your hair and takes in a deep sniff.

You smell nice. Much nicer than any of the guys in Blue Lock.

But, you simply letting this happen confirms his theory. This really is a dream. You—the real, fleshy you—would never allow Nagi to just hug you without at least hitting him with an iconic one-liner or snarky quip. If this version of you is not real... if this version of you will never remember what he feels...

He looks down and removes one hand from your waist to tilt your head upwards, and with the most innocent look he can manage—he shuts his eyes and leans down. He knocks the breath out of your lungs with an aggressive kiss, fiery hot and burning in your stomach.

His heart churns and his mind is running at a thousand miles per hour, but Nagi can't care. He doesn't care, because this is what he wants—and is it selfish of him to take it within a dream? That is only what a true egoist would do, right?

You squeak, but Nagi does not acknowledge it, engulfing the puff of air in his own mouth when he connects his tongue with your own. It takes a good few seconds for Nagi to pull away—and he only does so when you grab his soft cheeks in your palm and push his head back. A thin string of drool connected the two of you.

You look into his eyes, hazy and misty and his clothes suddenly feel too tight and the room is far too hot. He runs his hands up and down your torso, feeling the creases of the material underneath his electric fingertips, and it's like every sense he has is heightened in this blazing moment. "Nagi... not here..."

Oh. So even his dream version of you had her morals.

"Fine." Nagi mumbles, eyes sunken low. He knows this is wrong. He knows that he should not speak, but the words glide off his silver tongue before he has a chance to stop himself. "But when we get home, you can't expect me to stop."

His heart skips a beat after he sees your embarrassed expression. He can't find it within himself to care that this is all a dream, and in the morning you will never know this has happened. You won't ever know what has gone on between the two of you in his mysterious mind—and this will be a secret Nagi will forever take to his grave.

It's okay if he does this, right? Because it's your Nagi, the one who you adore so much. He's forever yours—if only you'd say the word.

shidou ryusei

"So... you're seriously saying you... want to...?" Shidou asks incredulously, and he can already feel himself twitching. His blunt nails dig into his palms and it takes every last bit of self-restraint he has left in his body to not pounce on you like a dog in heat.

This is the most composed you've ever seen him—and that's saying something. Well, not really, because he still looks like he's going to implode (haha, very funny) on the spot. You swallow thickly, a thin layer of sweat sheens down your back and suddenly the room feels way too stuffy—even if it was freezing cold when you had walked in.

Room... this room felt oddly unfamiliar. A room painted completely white, except for the odd accent of dark blue, proving its existence within Blue Lock. Shidou remembers stomping here after a brawl with Rin and getting extra scratched up this time because Rin ended up landing a good punch or two—he can't recall.

He doesn't remember how long he was out after you shocked him into submission—rather, he only recalls how you started this whole thing, as soon as he woke up in this strange room, you were practically in tears from how scared you were. Usually, Shidou woke up at most a few hours after being tased out, but this time, he was knocked cold for a whole day.

You nearly cried when he finally woke up, sitting by his side in a chair. You're holding onto his hand, but quickly let go in favour of hugging him so tight that he can barely breathe—and he can feel everything—and your voice is wracked with relief.

So now, here's the present, where you look like you're going to melt into a puddle on the floor when you say, "Y...yes... Because... I feel bad. That's the only reason I'll let you do this..." Still, with your pissy prickliness, you fold your arms under your chest, "But... only that, Shidou. Nothing more... I won't shock you this time... but I'll make you regret it."

Ignoring the comment that immediately comes to mind with your last sentence, he grins devilishly and feels his heartbeat increase with the anticipation, "Hell yeah! You're being serious, yeah? You'll let me?!"

Shidou can't quite remember since the last time he'd felt this excited for something that hadn't even happened yet—his goals were a burst of dopamine, but this? This was pure, unbridled excitement.

His leg unwillingly starts shaking up and down and you notice it—clearly, with the large sigh you suck in. You have to turn your head away before you shake your head—lest you see the face Shidou makes, a face you'd prefer not to be seared into your mind.

You walk forward, each step feeling like thousands of hands were trying to warn you—to hold you back—but you continue, right until you're standing in front of Shidou, who's sitting on the edge of his bed with his legs hanging off the side.

You place your things down on the table beside you. Hesitantly, like you're weighing your options—you slide your shoes off, so that the only thing on your feet are socks, and you slowly slide your jacket off, cheeks burning, so that you're only wearing your tank top.

Shidou watches in terrifying silence—you're sure this is the quietest you've ever seen him—and his eyes follow each move you make like he's a predator hunting for prey. Frankly, this scares you, but you have no room to say anything in this moment, so you only take in a deep breath, and lean upwards, placing your legs over his, and placing yourself on his knees.

Perched all prettily for him—shouldn't this be enough? Not for somebody like Ryusei Shidou, especially not just this. This would never be enough, and you were disappointingly aware of it.

This thing—the thing Shidou's been asking for since he met you... is to touch your boobs.

It shocked you just as much as it shocked anybody in the vicinity with his bold request, and you swore to yourself you'd never give in—especially not to somebody like Ryusei Shidou. But here you are now, practically trembling as he stares at you—his hands slowly reaching up.

He's silent... why is he silent? These thoughts run wild in your brain but are quickly shut down like a dead landline when his touch finally reaches your stomach. His fingertips are rough against your untouched skin, and it sends shivers flicking down your spine. Then, they finally came in contact with the lace around your bra, and he almost looked disappointed with the revelation.

But this doesn't phase him, no, not one bit, because as soon as his large palm engulfs one side of your chest, he squeezes. You slap your hand over your mouth and all the humiliation suddenly comes running back to you—crashing your brain like a ten-ton truck. He squeezes, and squeezes hard, like it's a stress ball and not a part of your body.

You bite out through groans, "Don't be so rough. Otherwise... I'll leave."

Shidou, who's been scarily silent this entire time, Shidou, who had his hand wrapped around your tit like a vice, and Shidou, who's looking into your eyes with such a serious look it makes you shiver, "Nah. Won't let ya."

You blink, and for a second, forget your humiliation in favour of blank confusion, "What?" You ask, dumbly.

"Won't let ya," and suddenly, the Shidou you know returns with full force, cheeks a hot stain of red and a demonic grin stretched out across his face—behind his sharpened, pearly teeth is a sense of danger, "I mean... ya gettin' me all worked up over here... and you think I'll just let ya leave?"

His eyes darken, and he grips your waist with his free hand, sliding you into his lap. "No. Fucking. Way. I would sooner quit soccer than let ya leave now."

Basically what he's saying—you're not going anywhere. Your heart races—sadly, you forget that he has a hand right over where your heart lies (even if it is a bit preoccupied with something else), and gets to tighten his hold before you squirm away. Warningly. He's saying—don't you dare fucking move.

He moves his hand from your tit—leaving the other one trapped around your waist—and moves it upwards, to the back of your head, gripping your hair hard in his hand. "You're way too pretty, manager-chan~ All those guys look at ya, but here I am, the one you hate the most having you here perched all pretty in my lap. This is how it should be, yeah?"

He grins, a grin you learned to despise, because of the words and person it was usually paired with—Ryusei Shidou looks so much like a demon. You can't say you hate him, but you don't like him either.

So then, when he crashes his lips into yours with the full ferocity you usually see on the court, do you not push back? Maybe deeply, somewhere in your fucked-up mind, you actually like this. At least, Shidou hopes so—because he can't get enough.

His lips move against yours in a harsh motion you're probably not used to—by the way your hands grip his shoulders and definitely leave marks from your nails. He tugs your head forward, wanting to become even closer—you think that if he moves you any further you'll fuse with him, but maybe, that's what he wants.

Ryusei Shidou loves so violently, so unabashed and unbridled that it scares normal people. Average people—who will never dream of understanding somebody like him. His love is so intense and overwhelming that he can't physically hold it in—but that is Ryusei Shidou, and he has no plans to change himself, especially not with how good it feels.

Dopamine spreads through his veins and he feels like he's about to light on fire from how hot his skin feels—but you're the same. His fingers sneak up the back of your shirt and it's positively burning, like wildfire in a dry forest. The mere thought that you're feeling the intensity he's trying to show you revs him up a gear further, biting down on your lip hard in excitement.

You try to pull back with a wince, but Shidou doesn't let you, kissing you so hard and pushing your head in so much that all you can do is whine against his lips. He fucking loves this. He fucking loves you. His eyes open just the slightest, and the expression on your face nearly makes him explode.

His hand slips down, and he grabs a handful of your ass underneath your sweatpants, nails sinking into the material with how hard he grabs it. This feeling—that spreads from his numbed mind towards the tips of his toes, is a feeling he doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough of. He's kissed people. He's made out with people. But it's never been like this.

He's never had such mind-numbing excitement right here, in front of him and completely pliant to his doing—Shidou has never been this excited before. It's not just what's happening—it's you. He's so drunk—so high off of you that it makes him want to melt into you and never return. If one day, you decided to make Shidou your own, that would be the day he would die happy and submit to your will.

But until then... Shidou will have the reigns, and control them—until you and him are forever like this.

Finally, after a minute of torture and pathetic gasps for air through your nose, Shidou pulls away, letting go of your sore head of hair and panting, a thin string of drool connects both your lips. He grins at the sight, face flushed and a thin layer of sweat sheened over his face.

But you—with your lips swollen, glossy and plump from being kissed so hard by him, and the sweat beading down your face giving you an ethereal glow—looks so much more beautiful than he ever could, he's sure.

In fact, that look on your face—misty eyes with lids too heavy to hold up, and lashes curled upwards to your brows—is what prompts Shidou to finally flip it out.

You're moved faster than you can react, your back crashing against the sheets before you have a chance to protest. His legs are positioned in between yours, and he's hovering on top of you—his antennae ticking your cheek. You look up at him with wide eyes, lips slightly parted from shock, and Shidou runs his tongue over his bottom lip when he sees his sight. Underneath him—where he believes you should always be.

My heart won't stop pounding. He thinks, a smile spreading at the thought.

The dopamine rushes through his veins and it gives him the energy to lean down, held up by the arms that cage either side of your head, "You're fucking gorgeous."

I love you.

I love you.

I love you so fucking much.

Shidou loves with such intensity that it can blind people—and maybe, you were the only person who could take such love. Even when his lips crash against yours once again, and you find you're now without your tank top—even in a dreamscape such as this, Shidou is sure that you'll just know.

© KENYUMMY 2024

[n-fblog]

THIS IS CRAZY WORK

WHY IS HE IN FULL-ON PROPOSAL POSE 😭 I CANT W THESE TWO

bonus of reo being cool (?) and nagi looking at him the same as usual (lovingly)

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

OCT. 11 — KINKTOBER ‘23

OVERSTIMULATION WITH JAIME REYES

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, slight manipulation, small mommy kink

jaime reyes was a pretty boy. the perfect boy who you’d give the world to if you could. and tonight you were, but it was just too much this time.

your lover was past his breaking point—he had been past it three orgasms ago, but he was just too pretty not to touch. and even when he claimed he couldn’t take it anymore, you both knew that he could. despite the protests that’d fall in whimpers and moans, words claiming his body was past its breaking point, his pretty cock still stood tall and begging for attention.

"mommy, please," he begged in your ear in a low whine. he’d just finished filling your pussy full for the third time, hardening cock still in your warm cunt as you sat on top of jaime’s sweaty thighs. "amorcito, you’re okay," you remind him, knowing he couldn’t handle thinking that all by himself. the man needed your help to think, brain turning to mush. and you’d happily help, reminding him what’s in his best interest.

your lips trailed across his jaw, pressing into his neck that was filled with your bites and hickies from previous rounds. what’s another to fill that one spot between two purple splotches?

every movement that you made had the man whine and squint his eyes. you could cum from the face jaime made alone when you pulled back from his skin, eyes meeting for what felt like forever. brown orbs completely blown out from where they rest behind eyelids half lidded.

"too much," he whimpers, cheeks flushed a pretty dark pink. his heads thrown back against the headboard of your shared bed, lip trembling and eyes wide and begging, looking back at you. a shimmering layer of sweat covered his abdomen, a bead running down his neck to sit against his collarbone.

it makes you tilt your head with a small smile. it’s hard not to when you have your pretty boy all fucked out with a chest that’s rising and falling underneath you. dark and pretty curls swarming his face, shiny in a layer of sweat that’s drenched them. it was hard to deny giving the man more, testing his limits in an attempt to see how much the man has the ability to give.

your head shakes, and it makes jaime’s eyes widen. his teeth biting his lower lip that was swollen with kisses exchanged. "you’re telling me the blue beetle’s done? c’mon baby, you’ve dealt with much worse things, ‘m just trying to make you feel all good." and if the words were an attempt to be reassuring, jaime was desperately trying to find the silver lining.

he’d catch some nice and deep sleep once you’re done your torturous activities. he’d know how it felt like so that he wouldn’t have to endure it again. but the one reason he was consenting to stay beneath you was because the smile of approval that spread from one end of your lips to the other was enough for him to want to please you. to want to continue, even if his body was exhausted, because he begged and craved your approval and attention.

it would be a lie to say he’d weigh his options, knowing you had full influence over his spasming figure. knowing that, at the end of the day, you’d be the only one to make decisions when he was the one underneath you.

so, jaime nods with big and blown out brown eyes. his head nodding slowly, then eagerly because now that your pussy’s wrapped around his cock, the word ‘no’ has left his mind completely. wanting nothing but to feel the tightness that entrapped him for the nth time of the night.

after all, his cock was hard once again within you, and it would make you laugh at him, and him feel pathetic for declining the high you give him once more.

"p-please mama," he whimpers quietly, in a whisper. he’d happily become a mess once more. filling up your cunt until you’re leaking out with his seed—which you already are—but jaime hasn’t realized that in his worn out state.

pls be nice i’m very shy & tired & embarrassed to post something this short

🏷️: @idyllcy , @hearttjason, @finnlikesyourmom77, @roysjason, @loviie-stuff, @nmw-am, @mxqdii

[eevees-hobbies]

CW: NSFW - Minors Do Not Interact. No Nut November thirst/drabble (?), mention of Shoei not caring if you want it so dubcon to be safe, but we all know you do, creampie, getting fucked silly.

Barou observes No Nut November by creaming in every single one of your holes for the entire month. That’s right, for 30 days, Barou bends you over, splits you apart, forces you onto your knees, and floods you with thick, warm loads of his cum.

He doesn’t really care which hole if we’re being honest or if you’re even ready to receive it because you’re damn sure gonna take it. 

“What the fuck were you on about?”

“N-no Nut November!” You whine as he fucks you into the mattress, so rough that his pelvis pounding against your ass is leaving you raw and red. He’s using you like a fleshlight, chasing the pleasure that only your tight, sopping-wet cunt can give him as he bottoms out to the hilt over and over.

“Christ sake..No Nut November, huh? And how am I doin’?” He growls into your ear as he floods your womb with endless hot spurts for the umpteenth time that night.

"Nnnngh! F-fuuuuck!" A pleased whimper leaves your throat as your eyes roll back, and drool collects at the corner of your mouth. Yeah, you’re exhausted, but you’re also being fucked so silly that your brain is starting to numb and grow dumb from his dick—just how you both like it. 

“I-it’s only the f-first of the month!” You moan into the pillow as you feel his hips begin to piston forward, bullying your sensitive cervix as his cum squelches and pools out of your pussy from the sheer volume of your creampie.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Guess I fucking failed at something for once.”

@rindous-starlight @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network

Comments & reblogs always appreciated

[saetoshi]

itoshi sae gets surprisingly lazy during off-season. he spends his time sleeping in or roaming around your apartment in his pajamas. (both with an untamable mop of bed hair and sleep-swollen eyes).

it’s the only time he gets to spend with you, he reasons.

you’d like to reason he ruined your sleeping schedule for it.

a soft yawn leaves your lips, your eyes heavy with sleep as you flip a pancake on the skillet. you frown, blinking away some of the drowsiness as you glance at the clock on the stove.

you try to stifle another yawn before placing the pancake on top of the small pile of the ones you’d cooked before.

there’s a small beat of silence before the pan sizzles again as you pour some of the last remains of the batter on it.

you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. another yawn leaves your lips when you hear the faint shuffle of sae’s slippers on the floor as he approaches the kitchen.

a small smile tugs at your lips, warmth blooming in your chest when you feel him rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“you’re up early,” you say, pressing the side of your head against his.

“it’s—” he pauses, squinting up at the stove clock, “—eleven a.m., that’s not early. it’s late.”

“you’ve been waking up past noon these last few days,” you point out, fondly rolling your eyes before flipping the pancake. you relax against him when he wraps his arms around your waist, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“you should’ve woken me up,” he sleepily whines, his words muffled by your skin.

you pat the back of his hand, a contemplative hum leaving your lips. “i don’t like interrupting your sleep,” you reply, gently thumbing his knuckles.

“i don’t need sleep—i need to watch last season’s matches,” he mutters, his voice slightly raspy, “‘s what i should’ve been doing all this time.”

“you should’ve woken me up,” he quietly adds. “you’re being a terrible influence by letting me stray from my routine.”

you softly scoff, adding the pancake to the small tower to your left. you pour the last bit of batter onto the pan, your body relaxing against sae’s chest as he clings to you.

“i’m not the one begging you to stay five more minutes in bed,” you quip, a soft chuckle leaving your lips when he squeezes you.

“whatever,” he mumbles, slightly easing his grip on you.

the soft sizzle of the pan fills the space between you. your thumb gently rubs the back of his hand as you flip the pancake.

“‘s cold,” he grumbles, his raspy voice breaking the comfortable silence. “i’m gonna go turn up the heater…” he trails off, pressing his lips against the back of your shoulder.

you wait for a second for him to move—he doesn’t. a few more seconds go by, sae not moving a single inch from his spot.

“sae?” you ask, your voice a whisper.

no response.

you gently nudge him. he sharply inhales, lifting his head up slightly to look at you with bleary eyes. “hm?”

you give him a warm smile, your eyes soft as you meet his gaze. “you should go back to bed,” you offer.

he hesitates before shaking his head, resting his head against your skin once more. “‘m fine right here,” he says, his grip on your waist tightening ever-so-slightly.

“you’re tired,” you retort, a sigh leaving your lips, “you should get more rest.”

“resting is all i’ve been doing,” he mutters, clicking his tongue. he moves his head to look at you, placing his chin on your shoulder as he frowns.

a few beats of silence go by before he sighs. sae presses a kiss to your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the small pile of pancakes you’d made.

“are we having those for dinner, too?” he asks, a yawn slipping past his lips.

you glance at the pancakes when you turn off the stove. “sure,” you reply, turning to look at him. “if that’s what you want.”

he nods, blinking a few more times to will the sleep away. he immediately embraces you when you’ve faced him, his body practically melting against yours.

he kisses your jaw, softly sniffling. you feel the corners of his lips quirk up into the hint of a smile when you rub his back.

“i’ll miss you,” he faintly whispers, his breath tickling the crook of your neck.

“i’m not going anywhere?” you reply, a hint of amusement in your voice. you chuckle when he nudges you with the tip of his nose.

“yeah, but i am,” he mumbles, a frown settling on his lips. “off-season ends in two days,” he adds, faint annoyance lacing his words.

“so?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder.

“‘m not gonna be around as often,” he reluctantly replies, his brows furrowing at the reminder.

you shrug in his hold, closing your eyes. “i know you’re coming back once the season’s done, anyway.”

he clicks his tongue. “so, you’re not going to miss me?”

“i’ll miss having someone who eats my food,”you chuckle, giving him a soft squeeze. “‘m gonna have to start eating all my pancakes by myself.”

a soft huff of laughter leaves his lips, his head lightly nudging yours. “that just means you’re going to have to make up for all that once i’ve got free time again.”

“yeah, whatever,” you mumble, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. so, stop worrying about all this and just have breakfast.”

sae faintly nods against you, a soft sniffle leaving his lips before he yawns again. “you’re joining me in bed after breakfast, right?”

you smile, giving him one more soft squeeze. “yeah.”

[rinnstars]

kiss me right!

in which itoshi rin gets a tongue piercing

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, suggestive (making out), drabble, not proofread + likes n reblogs r appreciated!

it was out of impulse rin thinks, or so he likes to believe.

pictures on your pinterest pinned on a board of piercing — snake bites, helix, central eyebrow piercing that rin can’t help but scroll through. its a habit he’s kept up, scrolling through your pinterest boards for ideas: from clothes idea to buy online for you to surprise especially for matching outfits like the chikawa jacket that he’s even wearing now on his bed, from photo ideas that fills his camera roll and polaroids that prints out to be pasted right on the walls of his bedroom for him to admire and unconsciously grin to himself, from date inspiration for him to take you out on on his rare days off without training.

and now he’s lying on his bed right beside you — a silver circle pierced through his tongue awkwardly as he fiddled with it inside his mouth, looking at you who’s lying right next to him on your phone, undoubtly scrolling through pinterest looking through piercings again and its killing him inside. sure, its his second day with his piercing and he probably shouldn’t do anything drastic in case of an infection. yet, he’s getting all fidgety, his hands fiddling with his phone with no purpose, scrolling through his socials that are practically empty or filled with boring football game videos, his legs fidgety and rubbing against yours as a habit and to warm both you and him up in the slightly chilly room, his teeth habitually rubbing against the cold metallic jewellery right in his tongue that he sucks against that was still slightly sore.

what would you do if you see his new piercing? would you look at him in surprise with him never indulging in such fashion stuff with most of his mind filled with football — his accessories pilled on him all belonging to you, his sweaters that are picked up by you or inspired from your pinterest board, his closet either that or only consisting of football jerseys and hand me downs for sae. would you be into it — you clearly like those cool piercing evident from your pinterest board, you always fawn over him whenever he tries something new whether it was that one time where he sported your sanrio hairpin for the first time or wore yours and his matching ring outside with you, your flushed face and stuttering words as you look at him that makes his heart swell.

“hey. i wanna try something.” if there’s anything rin can’t help but give in, its when its regarding you — whether it is when you look up at him with those puppy eyes even as a joke to go to the arcade with you once again to try yours and his luck in the claw machine that’s clearly rigged (and yet he spends his allowance there still anywhere for a chance for you to beam at him), or whenever you ask him of anything from helping you to tutor you in english or to share his food, or in this case giving in to you who’s right beside him. after all, he might not get the chance to see you when it recovers anyways — with your exams season approaching and his football competition season colluding soon as well.

and he thinks its already worth it even though you’ve just looked up from your phone, your eyes blinking as you tilt your head to face him, and he can’t help but smash his lips right against you.

its brash: its as if he’s kissing you for the first time, yours and his forehead knocking slightly against each other, his hands always finding its way to linger on your chin, pulling you even closer right into him as though he wants to melt you and him together, biting on your lips still as yours and his blood merge together. and as usual, his tongue makes his way and finds its home right inside your mouth, as though interlocking with your tongue that’s warm in contrast to his cold metallic piercing that’s even more sensitive than usual when it touches against yours. and he can guess you like the new change: with the way your eyes widen and your grip on his shirt tighten as your noise gets swallowed by his passionate kiss, the way your tongue keeps finding its way to touch the cold jewel and linger right on the sensitive spot of his tongue, the way you too pull him even closer by his shirt as you and him melt even closer: only pulling away slightly panting with drool strings connecting you and him.

“do you like it..?” rin can’t help but ask even if he knows the answer: his voice slightly shaky and breathy from the make out session, his cheeks burning still with yours and his face merged against yours, his hands still lingering right on yours as though needy and in need of your affection that he’s practically addicted to at this point.

“yeah.” one word, and you crash your lips against his once again — and rin thinks this might just be the best decision he’s ever made so far.

with the way your tongue feels right against the sore spot on his tongue that makes him whine against you, vibration sending through yours and his mouth that makes his grip your shirt a little tighter as you tug at his jacket as though still pulling him closer as though you and him aren’t practically merged together, and the way you are practically going crazy in contrast to how you usually let him take the charge as your hands find your way in to his hair that earns a whimper from him, as you shift yours and his position into a more comfortable one: all whilst not disconnecting yours and his as though it would practically kill you to separate you and him.

and as saliva drools down as he kisses you back, euphoria practically filling him — rin thinks this piercing might be the best thing and he’s sure you think so too as you unzip his jacket with your spare hand.

[dior-luxury]

hiii!!! could you do scenarios w/ bllk 11 where the s/o receives a lot confessions prompt please :)

"𝟐𝟎+ 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬?"

( ✧ ) ────── 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 . 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 - 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 .

- [𝐜𝐡.] yukimiya kenyu . karasu tabito . aryu jyubei . rin itoshi . otoya eita . nagi - [𝐩:𝐬] none!

#𝐘𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐮

→  tries not to care too much. Still, something nags at him every time you get a possession. He half wishes he could just tell everyone that you’re dating him, you’re not available, and anyone who has a problem with that can talk to him. Until then, he’ll just scowl at people he knows to have a crush on you and hold your hand a little tighter.

#𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐮 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐨

→ is fine with it. He thinks it’s an indication of how great you are, and to be honest, they’re like free compliments for you. But if you give any of the confessions any consideration at all – even fake consideration – he gets serious. He’ll try to subtly show off your relationship in front of others while claiming that no, he’s not jealous.

#𝐀𝐫𝐲𝐮 𝐉𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐢

→  doesn’t like it at all. He doesn’t like the idea that someone thinks they have a chance with someone as amazing as you when he’s already the one dating you. He’s not afraid to throw away any love letters you receive or step in and interfere in an ongoing confession to you, just to make that clear. He doesn’t think anyone can like you as much as he does, anyway.

#𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

→  honestly, he doesn’t care that much. he knows how many people liked you even before you two started dating, and he has no control over other people’s feelings anyway. He might need a little reassurance that you’ll stay with him, but other than that, it’s like a fun thing that you two laugh about occasionally.

#𝐎𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐄𝐢𝐭𝐚

→  seems like he’s fine with it on the outside. On the inside, he’s split between feeling distress and anger. He knows how well-liked you are, but why anyone would think it’s okay to confess to you when he’s in the picture is a mystery to him. he doesn’t like anyone who likes you romantically, and the frequency of the confessions only makes him like you more.

#𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨

→ doesn’t understand why other people even try: you’re dating him, and you two are very secure in your relationship. while he knows many of your classmates harbor crushes on you, nagi is convinced no one can treat you better or like you more than he can. If he ran into a confession going on, he’d shut it down by glaring at the person and slipping his hand into yours. He’s not someone to easily get jealous, and he trusts you, no matter how many others confess to you.

(pt.2 coming out soon ^-^)

[opalescentidiot]

additional note: i don’t think ima be active on this blog much longer due to various reasons, mainly a lack of motivation and interest/not having as much fun as i used to. i may keep posting for a couple more weeks then prob fizzle out. don’t forget about me guys🙏