#nutrients in dates

[pergaminaa]

Modern au

Dorian’s trial and error when it comes to food with Manon (she’s just awful it’s a mix of pickiness, intolerance/allergies, and hints of eating disorder and it’s her so not much luck actually narrowing it down) but Dorian isn’t known to give up and he’s out on a mission.

One, Manon has really bad anxiety and stress which is the main reason her stomach hurts. She also doesn’t really eat much it’s just… 80% salad and other pointless greens and 20% actual meat but nothing else aside from that.

She isn’t big on sugar like she craves something sweet every now and then (when she’s actually having a cycle but otherwise that doesn’t happen). So Dorian provides that sugar by getting her eat some fruit because that’s like vitamins and hydration.

He also worked on getting her to eat regularly because what do you mean you can go an entire day eating only salad??? He’s dumbfounded, really. So he has this rule where they both EAT once a day (usually in the evening. Always together) and he makes sure that food is balanced because how is she surviving like this???

Once he got a regular routine going, he added more.

Manon is receptive. She does try to eat but she is picky. Peanut butter? She hates it. Almond butter however was a success and thus Dorian kept trying and introducing alternatives to things she can’t have (no, coconuts are not supposed to give you a rash and make you feel fuzzy you’re actually allergic and must stay away from them 😭😭)

He makes his own version of pancakes that he discreetly adds some ingredients to (like bananas) because Manon find their taste VILE so he adds lots of cinnamon and other things to completely eradicate the taste but still have it there because his girl needs those nutrients. (He asked Yrene how to modify a recipe to make it healthier and she suggested raisins, to which he replied ‘if i add raisins Manon will actually break up with me’ so no, he might be adventurous but he’s not suicidal.)

And honestly? He loves it all. He loves looking after her and just… pampering her and to him this includes cooking because that’s one way for him to express his love. He gets to know her more, and he always makes changes and feels so accomplished when she likes the food that he makes and it motivates him more and more.

[bmpmp3]

it does suck because i really love a lot of game mechanics and games put under the "cozy" label (puzzle stuff, farming, organizing, menial tasks, walking sims) but the actual marketing buzzword "cozy" makes my hackles raise up like im a feral cat. and if you say the word "wholesome" to me i am actively running away

[spicyvegrecipes]

Khajoor Shake(Dates Milkshake)

Khajoor Shake(Dates Milkshake) Dates Milkshake Recipe (Khajoor Milkshake) Today, I am sharing the recipe for a delightful and nutritious Khajoor Shake, also known as Date Shake. Made with just a few simple ingredients, this shake is delicious and packed with nutrients. Benefits of Date Shake: Dates are rich in fibre, antioxidants, and various nutrients, making them an excellent addition to…

[boag]

girl!!!!!! when is your birthday?

Valentine’s Day !!!!!!!!

[lokiinmediasideblog]

How is the drugged pie fic going. I had an idea that eating the drugged pie could lead to the threesome

LMAO. I am kinda leaning to more of a thrillery angle. Trying to think of things to be forgotten. The drugged pie fic will probably be my least fucked up work yet. I see you are a Sylkius truther and I respect that.

[narwa]

im happy for everyone who can believe in a higher power and i envy that ability

[3liza]

yes

scurvy has got to have one of the biggest disease/treatment coolness gaps of all time. like yeah too much time at sea will afflict you with a curse where your body starts unraveling and old wounds come back to haunt you like vengeful ghosts. unless☝️you eat a lemon

[sufferingfeels]

we've all become so goddamn weird because social media and the internet's prime goal and obsession with creating hyper-niche communities means we're all becoming feral children: , developing our own languages and forgetting that the guy across the street doesn't know about *insert hyper specific buzzword for the niche you're obsessed with*. go touch grass isn't enough. go talk to strangers about the weather. ask for help in the supermarket and yap about which chocolate you prefer. small talk isn't evil. it reminds us we're human.

[adiadagaki]

babyfever!satoru who nearly explodes when your baby bump starts to come in. He buys you a ton of little crop tops to show it off even though it is winter and you’d rather not walk around with your swollen belly out.

babyfever!satoru splurges on your doctors appointment (personal and related to the baby). He makes sure any medication you need for pain, morning sickness or headaches is in your hands before you can say ‘I feel ill Toru’. And those scans that can make you see the baby in your tummy in 3D? Oh, he would pay millions for you to experience that, so dont act surprised when he pulls out his black card.

babyfever!satoru warps to get your cravings to you as soon as possible, he doesn’t need his pretty little wife stressed for any longer than she needs to be. But don’t mistake it for him letting you eat whatever you want, all of your meals will be made by him and full of all the nutrients you need.

babyfever!satoru knew the gender before you were even pregnant, but his six eyes blessed him with absolute confirmation. But, because you were excited for the scan he waited to tell everyone else until after the doctor confirmed it.

babyfever!satoru drags you to parenting classes so he makes sure he has all the practice he needs. The poor man isn’t worried about you at all, he know you’ll pick it up with ease he could only hope to replicate.

babyfever!satoru who talks to your baby bump like his son is already in his arms. His reason? He needs to bond with the baby in any way he can so they have a healthy relationship. Satoru has always warned you, if he was going to be a dad, he was forever holding the title of No1.

babyfever!satoru becomes more and more impatient every, single, day. He just wants to meet your perfect baby and it eats away at him more and more as the months pass.

“And how much longer?” He asks the nurse as he rubs his large hand over your forever growing bump.

The nurses smile strains, he has asked her this question at least 100 times over the course of the pregnancy. She was probably considering changing career paths.

“Mr Satoru, the expected date hasn’t changed, it is still May 17th.”

Two entire more months.

He pouted all the way home.

babyfever!satoru sleeps with most of his body draped over yours, shielding your body from any risks during sleep. Not that you’d ever be in danger with the strongest by your side, but it is a worry in his head and it is the only way for him to sleep.

babyfever!satoru spends thousands on all sorts of equipment to optimise your comfort. Baby brace? You have one in every colour? Back support pillows? You have three for every room in the house. Clothes? He has a brand new wardrobe for you.

babyfever!satoru already has a massive pile of push presents for you.

babyfever!satoru who isn’t sure he can wait another minute.

Part 1 Part 3

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Me: Ugh, why is dating so difficult? I guess the dating pool where I live is bad :(

Also me, attempting to flirt: How's your day been? :) Did you know that trees pump nutrients into nearby stumps in an effort to keep them alive, resulting in stumps that survive for years entirely on the support of the tree community around them? I like how the trees can sense through their shared root system that their neighbor has been felled, and instead of taking advantage of the new lack of competition, they use their own nutrients to support their now-cut brethren. It's an act of innate, selfless community love from an organism that you'd think is incapable of such a thing, and, in a sense, it's a form of grief, because those surrounding trees won't be able to keep the stump alive forever, and yet they try to keep it alive for as long as possible anyways. It's both touching and a bit disturbing, the sense that trees are trying to hold off the death in their community for as long as possible, almost like they're unable to come to terms with it initially. It seems as though the themes of loss and grief transcend even animal life and have a presence in everything in the world around us. What're your thoughts on that? :D

(As it turns out, turning cool science facts into an analysis of literary themes doesn't make for a good pickup line. Who would've thought?)

[spicyvegrecipes]

Dry Fruit Milkshake | Healthy Drink

Dry Fruit Milkshake Dry Fruit Milkshake is a nutritional powerhouse, filled with essential vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants that promote overall well-being and vitality. Cashews and almonds, renowned for their heart-healthy fats and protein content, provide sustained energy and support muscle repair and growth. Pistachios, packed with fibre and antioxidants, aid digestion and boost immune…

[hemipenal-system]

companion dog robot who sees you’re upset and determines you must be pent up since your bad breakup. she can probably help with that. she can interface directly with your homelab’s fabrication studio, and it’s easy enough to mod herself for sexual activity compatibility based on the preferences she swiped off your dating app’s chat history.

you’re moping and doomscrolling dating apps in the kitchen and you hear her pad in and make that cute little FM bark she does to get your attention. you look up at her and she’s sitting in a way that gives you a great view of the add-ons she just had made for herself. your phone chimes as you get a text.

“wanna play?”

you don’t even have time to protest before she jumps up on you and puts her paws on your shoulders. when you salvaged her model, you went for something big enough to run guard protocols effectively, so she’s not a small dog. you also didn’t want the nasty corporate spyware that comes default on her model, so you swapped her OS to something better, which came with the side effect of making her just as smart as any other, more “human” looking companion bot.

in your sadness, you were wearing and idly fidgeting with the collar your ex gave you. she bites down onto it and twists her body, throwing you to the ground, and you land on your hands and knees just in time to feel an artificially damp silicone nose press between your legs.

when she climbs on top of you, you don’t even bother struggling. she’s not a weak dog, either. companion bots are on average two or three times stronger than their biological theriform counterparts. once her paws got around your hips, you weren’t ever going to get away until she decided you were adequately satisfied and she was done.

there’s a quiet alert sound in your head as she remotely interfaces with your brain’s netlink. she’s mischievous, but she doesn’t want to genuinely hurt you, and your netlink lets her monitor your vitals, nutrients, and your pleasure and pain responses so she can be the best sex toy you’ve ever owned. she can tell exactly how fast and hard to thrust to make you see stars and how long you can actually go for without injury, and being a machine means she can go that hard for that long with ease because she doesn’t get tired.

after your fourth orgasm, your legs give out, and you collapse to the ground. she just lays down on you, bites your neck in her soft gripping teeth, and slams her knot inside you. you’re well past the point of being able to speak, so you just moan wordlessly, and she licks your neck with her big silicone tongue and disables her cooling system to warm herself up so you can use her as a heating pad to comfort your sore body

she’s happy you feel better. she’s not running a companion OS, she’s not obligated to care for you, but she does genuinely like you and wants you to feel happy. plus, the feeling of you milking her knot wasn’t half bad either.

[ecomehdi]

best Sweet Benefits 24: Why Eating Dates During Pregnancy is a Wise Choice

Pregnancy is a special time in a woman’s life, filled with joy, anticipation, and a whole lot of cravings! If you’re expecting, you might find yourself reaching for sweets more often than usual. Instead of indulging in processed sugars, why not turn to a natural, wholesome alternative? Dates, specifically from the Date Palm tree, could be your delicious solution. In this article, we’ll explore…

[yanderedrabbles]

I love the additional notes that yandere boyfriend/husband does! Anymore facts that he does during marriage life, aside from building cabinets and stuff?! 👏🥰🥳

Yandere Boyfriend - Husband Duties

He's secretly a total house husband. He'll spend an ungodly amount of time just attacking the house with a feather duster because he knows how you hate your sinuses acting up. And he does most of the cooking - he's a health nut after all and he needs to make sure his family is getting all their nutrients. Besides, there's something so intimate about feeding his wife with his own labour.

He's the type to bring you breakfast in bed almost every Sunday and hand feed you each bite, his pupils blown out with lust when you look up at him in that half lidded way.

He fixes everything. Light bulb burnt out? You won't even realise it because he's that quick to grab a ladder. Taps need new washers? Done. Kids want their rooms a new colour? Done before the end of the week. You want to rearrange the furniture? Just sit pretty and point at where you want the stuff to go.

He's a light sleeper so he's almost always the first one up if the kids start crying. Once you walked in on him with the newborn, cooing and begging the kid not to wake his wife because you've had a hard enough day.

At first, it feels strange seeing such a big guy holding a tiny little bundle in his paws. But he's so tender that sometimes all you can do is lean against the doorway and watch him.

He isn't the best with homework but he's a master at school projects. Once, he built a three foot bridge that actually lifted up to let little toy boats through.

When he talks to the kids about you, it's almost always my wife instead of your mother. In his mind, you'll always be his before anyone else's. And he loves the way it sounds - wife, wifey, his better half, finally all his.

He loves to play with the kids, but especially if you join him. He'll swing you up over his shoulder and tease the kids that he's stealing you away, they've gotten enough mum time today. And he'll grin when they hammer at his legs and demand he give you back. It's good to see the kids have just as much of a possessive streak as he does.

Honestly, he's set such a high standard that your daughters find almost every guy they date falls horribly short. And your son? Oh, he has to be the one to initiate break ups because no one who dates him wants to let him go - not when he's such a perfect partner.

"Where's mom? My wife is very busy right now actually."

[puck-luck]

jack hughes comes back from a long roadie and his gf (of only like a few months) is all over him, wearing his jersey on top of some lingerie, and just saying the dirtiest most filthy shit because she missed him so much and needs him immediately, and he is like in a state of shock (the good kind) bc he’s never really seen her like this before and it turns into like the hottest sex they’ve ever had ☝🏻

(this is my last one!! sorry, i am not a dawson mercer girly so i don’t really have any ideas for him, hopefully some other nons can pick up the DM slack for me 🫶🏻)

in memoriam of one of the original asks cappy sent me in a spree last april🥹 see, guys, i get to everything eventually...

warnings: unprotected p in v, **mentions of jack's shoulder injury**, mentions of handjobs, mentions of blowjobs, mentions of thigh riding, mentions of overstimulation, fingering, switch!jack and switch!reader (they do both! in this one, jack is... leaning more dom, but he's not like a DOM!dom), praise, mentions of pain play, squirting, that's all i remember. doing this from memory is hard!

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

wc: 3,995

The finishing touch for Jack’s big welcome home party– just you, since Luke and the rest of the team are on the road at the moment– is the vase of flowers in your hand. You can’t decide where exactly to put it.

You put the vase together on Jack’s kitchen counter. You cut the stems into his pull-out trashcan near the dishwasher and filled the vase with lukewarm water from his sink. You sprinkled some of that nutrient packet into the water, the packet that came with the flowers, even though you’re not sure if you used the right amount or if that’s what you were supposed to do anyway. You’re not a florist. You just wanted to do something nice for your boyfriend.

Your heart damn near stopped after he crashed into the boards in that game against Vegas. To see Jack’s opponent– and friend, since you’d met the other Jack at 4 Nations when they were on Team USA together– crouched over him and checking on him, making sure he was okay… it made you feel sick to your stomach. Obviously, he wasn’t okay.

And then he went to get surgery almost immediately. He went to Colorado, got patched up, and went back to Michigan for a couple of weeks to get his initial rehab and recovery out of the way with his old Team USA trainers and his parents closeby. 

You’d felt so useless when it happened. You and Jack only started dating a couple of months ago, right around the new year, and you had no idea how to help him with this injury. You have no idea what he needs now that he’s coming back.

So, you’re trying to make the apartment pretty for him.

You’ve strung up a banner in the living room, above the door of the balcony, which says “Welcome Home, Jack!” in big bubble letters. You painted it yourself last weekend, when he’d texted that he’d be coming home soon, and you’d artfully hidden your mistakes by turning the banner over and starting again. You hope that Jack doesn’t observe the back when he takes it down. You never claimed to be an artist, but it’s still embarrassing to be so bad at spacing out letters when you used a ruler and everything.

There are balloons in the corner and tied to Jack’s seat at the table. You’re wearing a party hat and you bought him a paper crown to wear when he arrives. 

The only question that remains is where to put these damn flowers. 

You want him to see them when he walks in, so you can’t put them on the kitchen counter, or the dining room table, or in his bedroom. You could put them on the table they have next to the door, where the guys put their keys and throw their coats, but Jack would knock them over with said coat or he’d throw his keys into them by accident and lose them forever among the petals. They’ll have to go on the coffee table near the couch, but even that seems imperfect.

When Jack tells you that he just made it to his building, not knowing that you’re upstairs waiting for him, you decide that the coffee table will have to do.

There’s one last thing to do before he walks in the door. Like you said, you and Jack have only been dating for a couple of months. You’d finally worked up the courage to wear his number to the two home games before his injury. At the first, you’d worn a little beaded bracelet with the number ‘86’ squeezed between a bunch of red, white, and black beads. At the second, you’d worn a jean jacket with an ‘8’ and a ‘6’ ironed onto the breast-pocket of the jacket, done by one of your more fabrically talented friends at your request. Jack had quirked a smile at both, but planted a kiss on your cheek after the jean jacket and murmured something about how you’d have to wear his jersey and cheer him on while he’s on the road. 

That was the plan, until he’d gotten injured. You hope that it doesn’t add insult to injury– no pun intended– to wear it now. After all, you’re still Jack’s biggest cheerleader. Now, you’re just… cheering him through his recovery instead. 

You tug off Jack’s big sweatshirt, which you totally hadn’t stolen when you’d been missing him after he’d left for Colorado, and toss it into the corner of his closet. He’s got a few random jerseys in here, which shouldn’t surprise you, even though you thought that the jerseys stayed at the rink. Aren’t they part of the equipment? Or does every player get to have a couple of jerseys to do with what they wish?

You choose his classic red, pulling it over your head. The sleeves reach your fingertips and the length falls past your hips. It’s a big garment. That makes sense, you guess, since they have to wear pads and stuff underneath it. It covers the pretty panties you’d chosen to wear for Jack in case he felt up for sex– when is he not, to be fair– and the matching bra that pushes your tits up and shows them off. You’ve also splurged on a pair of sheer, black stockings that only come up to your mid-thigh. There’s lace trim that accentuates the hem of the stockings and you tug it up to make sure they don’t slide down. You want them to be securely in place when Jack finds you in the apartment. 

You look at yourself in the mirror. The stockings are coquette in a vixen-like, sirenous way. There’s a sliver of your skin visible between the lace of the stockings and the hem of Jack’s jersey. You look dwarved in it and you know that Jack will like that. He’s got a thing for throwing you around and showing off how strong his training makes him. Unfortunately, he’s got that pesky shoulder injury, so he won’t be doing much of that anymore– not for a while. Your hair is messy from brushing it out of your face as you decorated the apartment, then eventually tying it up as best you could. Some strands escaped and the elastic you used is old and loose, but your hair looks effortlessly good. This is a hairstyle that you’ll never be able to recreate because it’s so messy and haphazard. You’re about to whip your phone out to take a picture when you hear the front door swing open and a suitcase roll into the atrium ahead of Jack. 

You hear his confused “What the–” and the two tentative steps he takes into the apartment before you grab the paper crown from atop your bag, exit the bedroom, and reveal yourself.

“Welcome home!” you exclaim, skipping forward towards Jack. 

His eyes light up when he sees you, which takes away from the sting of sympathy that nips at your heart when you see his slinged arm. He opens his other arm and wraps it around your waist once you’re close enough, pulling you into his body and pressing a kiss to your hair. “Baby,” Jack says, grin dancing across his face. “Did you do all this?”

You pull back and place the flimsy crown on his head. It falls crooked almost immediately, so you have to fix it again. You’re surprised Jack’s hair wasn’t already hidden beneath a hat of some kind after such a long day of travel. “Mhm,” you confirm. “Wanted to do something nice so you didn’t come home to an empty apartment.”

Jack leans forward and pecks your lips, his available hand splayed over the small of your back. He presses your torsos together. “You’re so thoughtful. I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” you chirp back. It’s still early in the relationship. You’re allowed to do the “I missed you more, I missed you most” bit without feeling like it’s too middle-school. 

Jack finds it silly, but in a fond way, so he rarely ever completes the superlative. He just cuts his eyes at you, then rolls them in faux-exasperation. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Whatever you say.” He loosens his grip around your waist. “Let me get a good look at you. Are you wearing my jersey?”

You step back and pop your hip, posing for Jack. “What do you think?”

“I think you wear it better than I do,” Jack replies. His mouth is crooked as he smirks at you. “The socks are a nice touch. You couldn’t find any tube ones to match mine? The ones that go over my leg pads?”

He’s just teasing, but you frown. That would’ve been fun. You could’ve basically worn his uniform, but a sexier version. “Boo,” you lament with a pout.

Jack tips his head back and laughs. “I’m messing with you, pretty girl. I love it. You know I’m going to have to take it off of you, right? It’s been too long since I’ve gotten my hands on you.”

“Don’t you mean ‘hand,’ singular?” you tease, narrowing your eyes at Jack. “You can’t use both your hands. You have to wear that sling.”

“I can take the sling off for twenty minutes,” Jack replies. When you make a face at him, he raises an eyebrow. He bargains, “I’ll put it back on right after.”

You sidle up close to him, tracing the velcro straps and the long belt that wraps around his neck. “What if I want you to keep it on?” you ask.

Jack smirks at you, eyes glimmering with playfulness. “Then I’d ask if you like seeing me in pain, sweetheart.”

“Seeing you in pain?” you repeat, making your eyes wide and innocent. You ignore the way your heartbeat speeds up as an image of Jack, squirming and whining and overstimulated but bucking his hips into your tight fist, pops into your brain. “I would never enjoy that.”

“Hm.” Jack looks over your face thoughtfully. He wraps his arm around your body again, placing his hand on your asscheek and squeezing before he prompts you. “Jump, baby.”

You wrap your arms around his neck for leverage. “You think you can carry me with one arm?”

“I know I can,” Jack insists, lifting you off the ground with his forearm pressed to the back of your thighs, then holds your behind again once you twine your legs around his waist. “I lift.”

His defensive tone has you laughing and kissing him, distracting him, as he walks down the hallway towards the bedroom. He kisses you back just as passionately, tracing his tongue against yours and nibbling on your lips when you pull back just enough. He pushes the door open with your back, then abruptly tosses you onto the bed.

You shriek and giggle when you fall through the air and land with a bounce, scoffing at Jack with an open mouth. “Oh my God!”

Jack laughs and sticks his tongue out at you, tugging at the straps of his sling until it’s loose enough to slip from his body. He carefully flexes his arm and gets the blood pumping through it again, tugging off his shirt and fumbling with his zipper. 

You lean back on your elbows and spread your legs, knees hooked over the edge of the bed. Jack’s jersey has ridden up, revealing the crotch of your panties but nothing more. 

Jack eyes you with his teeth digging into his bottom lip, shoving his pants and boxers down, leaving him bare before you. 

Your eyes almost immediately grow hooded, fixed on his cock. Jack makes it jump in place, grinning at you when your gaze comes up to his face. You smile back and spread your knees an extra inch, nodding at Jack. 

He takes his cock and fists the base, walking between your legs as he strokes himself slowly. He then drops to his knees and kisses the inside of your thigh, his free palm coming to your stocking-clad shins and tracing up the fabric until he reaches the lace around your thigh. Jack digs his fingers into the lace and begins to drag it down your legs. He kisses each inch of new skin that is revealed, gently removing the stocking before kissing back up your leg and repeating the process on the other side.

Your core has started aching with want, slick probably seeping through your panties. If Jack can tell, he ignores it. 

His movements are slow and measured, reverent. He treats you gently and takes his time with you, like you’re the one who’s injured and in pain. 

You whimper for Jack as his lips pass your knee on the way back up.

His eyes lift and regard you. His lips pause for just a second before he continues his path. His hands slide up your sides, under the jersey, and he pushes it up. His mouth creeps over your stomach and his head hides itself under the dangling fabric of the jersey. Jack is now crouching rather than kneeling, and you scoot back on the bed so he has a more comfortable position. He places a knee on the edge of the bed and inches up your body, still kissing, and finally removes the jersey.

“Can’t wait for you to wear that while I’m actually playing,” Jack tells you quietly before he tosses it away. His fingers tease your entrance, tracing it through your panties. “It’ll inspire me. Remind me of this night.”

“I will,” you promise breathlessly, your hands tracing up Jack’s biceps and digging into his hair, which has only gotten longer since he left. 

“You’d promise anything,” Jack chuckles. He slides his thumb over your clothed clit. “As long as I keep touching you.”

You detest that, but he’s probably right. In order to avoid admitting that, you pull his head forward until his lips mold against yours and his fingers pull your panties to the side. 

Jack’s muscles bend and flex as he pumps his fingers into your heat, starting with two because he just can’t wait to sink his cock into the wet space between your legs. 

You’re immediately reacting to the way his blunt fingertips curl into your walls and press into the gummy flesh, seeking out your sweet spot.

He has to draw back from you, resting his forehead against yours and gnawing on his bottom lip while he watches your face. 

You roll your hips and gasp wantonly when his middle finger prods the spot inside of you. Your eyelashes flutter and you shake, pupils fixing on Jack’s. 

His eyes glow with pride and his smile grows, breathing hard as he bullies his fingers against the spot, his other hand coming up from your waist to your chest and drawing one of your breasts from your bra. He gropes it, thumbs the peak, and pinches your nipple. He dips his head and seals his mouth over it, suckily audibly and flicking his tongue against the skin.

A plea spills from your lips, practically a squeal, and Jack giggles against your skin. He flattens his tongue against your nipple and looks up at you through his eyelashes, scissoring his fingers inside of you until your vision is tinged with black spots. “Take your tits out,” Jack commands softly. “Let me see them.”

You reach a hand behind your body awkwardly and unclasp your bra. 

Jack pulls it off and tosses it behind him. He fucks a third finger into your cunt, stretching you so that you can fit around his width comfortably, and sucks a bruise on your tits, the edge of his mouth overlapping with your areola. 

Your stomach jumps and twists, clenching and crumbling apart when Jack actually licks a stripe up your neck and takes your earlobe between his lips. Your breath stutters and your body writhes, fucking down on Jack’s fingers as you ride out the wave of your first orgasm.

“Good girl,” Jack coos in your ear. “So responsive for me, so ready to take my cock. You didn’t put fresh sheets on the bed, did you? I’d hate for this little wet spot to ruin all your hard work.”

Dazed from your climax, you shake your head.

Jack’s smile reveals his teeth. He kisses your lips, then whispers conspiratorially, “Let’s make it bigger.”

You moan at his tone. Jack’s hands slide down your legs, wrapping them around his waist, and then he flips your bodies so you’re on top. You make a noise of discontent against his mouth, wanting him to fuck you, but Jack shushes you. 

“Give my shoulder a rest, sweetheart,” he says. “I need you to take care of me for a couple of weeks before I’m doing better.”

It’s not possible to argue with that, especially once Jack’s engorged cock slides between your folds and the head bumps your clit. You make a soft ‘oh,’ which Jack drinks up. His tongue pets against yours and you suck on it when it fills your mouth. You feel Jack’s hand sneak between your bodies and circle his base, aligning his tip with your entrance so that you can sink down, still basking in the relaxation of your previous orgasm.

You hum, neck rolling back. You move your hips in a circle, then you change direction, then you start to rock back and forth. 

“That’s it,” Jack praises. His fingers dig into your waist. “My pretty girl.”

“I love how you feel,” you sigh, placing your hands on Jack’s abdomen for leverage. Your mouth is an inch from his, the breath that leaves your lungs mixing with his. Your eyes are closed, forehead resting against his, and Jack’s hands slide to your behind. He pulls you forward, aiding your movement. “Fuck, Jack, it’s nothing like I imagined while you were gone.”

“What did you think of while I was away?” Jack asks, only a hint of desperation in his voice. 

“I was thinking about things we can do that won’t hurt you,” you say. “Until you’re able to use your shoulder again. Then it’ll be like rehab.”

Jack snuffles out a little laugh, the shaky air displacing the hair that is falling from your updo. “Smart. Make me do something I like.”

“I fucked myself with my fingers, bent over my sink,” you tell him abruptly, the memory sparking in your mind when your clit brushes against Jack’s skin. “Imagining you were there, watching me in the mirror.”

“Oh,” Jack says dumbly, his voice thick.

“I thought about how you’d only be able to touch me with one hand and how you wouldn’t be able to decide what to do with me,” you continue. “I thought you’d– oh– hold onto me until I was bruised, just to try and keep me in place.”

“You want me to…” Jack trails off.

His tip brushes your cervix, sending a jolt through you, and you start to fuck yourself on his cock. Jack’s fingertips reflexively dig into your flesh, lifting you with the help of your momentum and slamming you back down on his member.

“Fuck,” Jack adds.

“I imagined you spanking me if I looked away from you,” you admit, your voice breaking off into a desperate ‘yes’ as his hips twitch and fuck up into you.

Jack plants his feet on the mattress and bucks up, matching your bounces in pace and intensity. 

“Thought you’d leave a mark there, too,” you finish. “And come inside me and leave me there, dripping all over the tile.”

Jack makes a choked noise, gasping. “Tell me another,” he requests. “Fuck, baby, we can do whatever you want. What else did you think about?”

“I thought about, shit, I thought about helping you masturbate,” you say. The image of Jack, panting and flushed and squirming as you overstimulate him, pops into your mind again. You whimper and clench down on him, feeling your orgasm build. Your lips come into contact with Jack’s and he kisses you desperately, breaking away only to encourage you to continue. “I thought I’d make you come and then I’d clean you up with my mouth.” You take a deep breath. “And then I’d make you come again on my tongue.”

Jack whimpers brokenly into your mouth. His fingernails dig into the skin of your behind, his hips pistoning into your body even faster. The bedframe is creaking beneath your bodies, shaking with your movements, but Jack just continues. He’s giving you everything he has and it makes your blood thrum through your veins, senses heightened and climax so close.

“I’d– I’d,” you cut yourself off with a silent moan, voice failing you. 

“What?” Jack gasps. His cheeks are pink and his forehead is beading with sweat. “What, baby, fuck, I’m so close, tell me what you’d do.”

“After I make you come in my mouth,” you rush out, trying not to bite your tongue as you speak. “I’d sit on your thighs and grind against them until I come and I’d keep my hand on your cock the whole time, even if you feel like it’s too much, because I know you’ll get hard again, J. Making me come without even touching me would drive you crazy and I’d have to serve you again to satisfy you, can’t leave my boy hanging–” 

You and Jack shudder at the same time. You can feel him losing his rhythm. You open your eyes and are met with the same glassy blue eyes that you’d imagined as you’d coaxed a third round of cum from his tip. Jack’s eyelashes are long and dark and capture your attention before his mouth clumsily collapses against yours, teeth colliding in an ugly, not-sexy way. 

Jack’s moan feels like a glass of cold water trickling down your throat, and the warm spurts of cum filling your insides juxtaposes it in a way that has your mind spinning. 

You’re unraveling atop Jack so intensely that you don’t even realize that your orgasm is washing over his abdomen and hips and joining the wet spot on the bed that Jack had wanted to grow. He succeeds, practically without even trying. All you can feel is the shaking of your thighs and the thumping of your heart in your chest, plus the desperate clutch of Jack’s hands on your skin. 

“Baby, oh my God,” Jack whines. His hips continue to work into you, his nails creating half-moons on your behind. “Keep– oh my God,” he repeats. 

You grind against him, trying to chase the high that is starting to slip from you, but as Jack’s cock softens, the feeling fades away. You let out a soft moan, somewhere between contentment and disappointment that you can’t keep coming forever and ever, and sink into Jack’s touch.

His arms come around your waist and he presses his face into your clavicle. “You’re so fucking sexy,” Jack pretends to complain. “Dirty talking like that, it’s not fair how hot you are.”

“Just being honest,” you quip back. “You asked.”

Jack groans. “I know.” He buries his face between your boobs, muffling his voice. “And we’re going to have to do all of those, I can’t believe there’s a bright side to this fucking injury.”

You smooth his hair back and laugh lightly. “Poor boy, I’m sorry you got hurt. I really wanted to see you in the playoffs this season.”

Jack reveals one stink eye at you, glinting with playfulness like before. “You just wanted the WAG jacket.”

You laugh louder. “I am not that shallow!”

“Are too,” Jack goads into the swell of your breasts.

“Now you’re just being mean,” you whine, pushing at Jack’s good shoulder.

He bites your boob, then peppers your sternum with kisses. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?”

He rests his chin between your breasts and grins up at you. “I had some ideas of my own while I was gone.”

[eremikayearner]

isn’t he dreamy ‹𝟹 itoshi rin

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the cold, unsettling, and intimidating itoshi rin is the boyfriend straight from your dreams. for others, it’s hard to believe rin is even capable of love. but they don’t know him, not like you do.

ׂ╰┈➤ just take this as a million headcanons and reasons why i love rin all rolled into one :3

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ .𖥔 ݁ “isn’t he dreamy?” your voice sounded almost far away, lost in your own thoughts as you gazed at your boyfriend itoshi rin.

rin’s rival and your friend, isagi yoichi looked at you with wide surprised eyes. you looked over at rin with the softest of smiles and tenderest of eyes, propping your chin up on your palm — and there rin was, nodding along and listening to anri’s words.

“rin? itoshi rin?” isagi spluttered out.

he understood that you were dating the bastard, but come on. to some extent, even you had to understand rin wasn’t exactly the perfect shoujo dream boyfriend.

isagi wasn’t even sure the bastard could love.

you lifted your chin off your palm and gave isagi the nastiest side eye in the world. isagi nearly clutched his heart at the look in your eyes. “yes, itoshi rin.”

your split second of disgust morphed back into your far away adoring look as your attention set on rin once more.

how could isagi ask such a stupid question like that?

how could your quiet, sweet, and thoughtful rin be anything but dreamy?

to other's, rin's beauty must have been what you were after. what more could you want from the cold, unnerving, and intimidating itoshi rin? what more could a monster of a boy like that offer? at least that's what others thought.

rin captured the beauty of angels, a face so pretty and sharp like the most delicate of daggers. long beautiful lashes that framed teal eyes so intense they could silence the world around you. soft lips seamed with dark pink nips and bites from his teeth. and of course, rin was an athlete, so what more could a girl want when her boyfriend was corded with muscle?

while you acknowledged and appreciated rin's beauty, it could never be the sole reason for why he was so dreamy. no, that would diminish all the beautiful things that made rin rin.

rin was dreamy for the way he treated you.

rin who kisses you so softly every morning before leaving for practice. rin who holds your hair back from your face and rubs your back soothingly after drinking too much. rin who leaves practice early and makes tea and soup to take care of you when you're sick. rin who places his card down immediately before you can even think to pull yours out. rin who clears his schedule and organizes his week in advance to make time for you. rin who tries his best to plan and surprise you with dates he hopes you'll like. rin who attempts to learn to cook and bake with you because he insists it's a life skill you both should know for the future. rin who defends your name whenever he can (even if he gets himself into trouble for it). rin who keeps you private but never a secret. rin who makes sure you eat three meals a day. rin who facetimes and texts you as much as he possibly can when he's overseas. rin who bought you a heating pad, orders all your favourite food and makes sure you get your proper nutrients when you're on your period. rin who waits for you to fall asleep first before he can even think of closing his eyes. rin who accepts your interests no matter how strange or mundane they might be. rin who encourages your studies (and always reminds you that he will always provide for you). rin who listens to you no matter what. rin who tries to control his emotions and his tongue when he tries to communicate. rin who holds you and whispers sweet things in your ear, trying his very best to make you feel better if you feel insecure. rin who always says 'i love you' before you went to sleep.

rin was dreamy for the way he was with you.

rin who falls asleep in your arms like a sweet little baby. rin who holds you in his embrace and lulls you to sleep with the sound of his voice and his tender touch. rin who blushes when you call him handsome, pretty or beautiful. rin who gets flustered when you call him sweet pet names. rin who likes wearing matching rings with you so he can feel the imprint of your name on his finger -- and know the imprint of his on yours. rin who truly laughs at your jokes and humour. rin who's actually very talkative and will find himself talking to you for hours without even realizing it. rin who calls you little insults as if they were the most romantic nicknames in the world. rin who uses you as his weight when he works out. rin who carries you around all the time, whether on his shoulders, on his back, or in your arms. rin who loves watching horror movies with your so he can feel you jump and cling to him. rin who hugs you so tightly and buries his face into the crook of your neck after an argument. rin who touched you like you were his goddess. rin who whispers sweet nothings against your skin when it’s you two alone. rin who’s attentive to your needs. rin who includes you and writes you into his plans for the future. rin who listens to every word you say and tries his best to understand, even if he's not the best with emotions. rin who remembers everything about you, the little things and the things that not even you remember. rin who softens with vulnerability and finally allows you to help him bear the weight of his emotions with him.

rin was dreamy for the little things he did.

rin who bites his lip when he's deep in thought. rin who hums when he's in a good mood. rin who swears a lot when he's nervous. rin who counts every freckle and mole on your body when he's cuddling with you. rin who grumbles 'lukewarm' before dropping two dollars into your lukewarm jar. rin who cracks his knuckles in between his work out sets. rin who watches you when you aren't looking out of habit from when he'd been too afraid to confess or acknowledge his feelings for you. rin who checks his lock screen of you right before he goes out onto the field. rin who twists the ring on his finger jealousy when you're talking to one of his overly friendly teammates. rin who clenches his jaw when he gets angry. rin who licks at the blood on his lip whenever he gets injured on the field. rin who pokes his tongue out when he's trying to make his handwriting neat. rin who taps his foot along to the beat of the music he plays in his headphones. rin who twirls his bangs around his finger when he's frustrated with you but doesn't want to tell you why. rin who tightens his arm on you whenever sae's around. rin who slips the words "married" and "wife" accidentally and apologizes immediately out of embarrassment.

rin was dreamy for who he was.

rin who's loyal and protective. rin who's thoughtful and observant. rin who's determined and ambitious. rin who's chaotic, impulsive and honest. rin who looks up to and mimics those he believes in. rin who picks up beliefs, habits and phrases from the people he loves. rin who's passionate, emotional and full of feeling. rin who loves hard enough to hurt himself. rin who loves deeply enough to lose himself. rin who has hopes, wishes and dreams.

rin made the mundane magical. that's what made him so dreamy.

isagi looked at you for a moment longer, noticing the way your eyes lit up suddenly. like any curious person would, he followed the line of your sight until it landed upon the man himself.

shit, maybe itoshi rin was dreamy after all.

itoshi rin who looked back at you with these soft loving teal eyes, the tenderest of smiles lifting his lips, but something was entirely different. it was his aura. when rin looked at you he glowed.

would you look at that?

the bastard could love.