#close grip bench press guide

[trendbuzzz]

Smith Machine Close-Grip Bench Press: The Secret Weapon for Triceps Growth

The Smith machine close-grip bench press is a power-packed variation of the classic bench press exercise that is executed using the Smith machine, a versatile piece of gym equipment. This modified bench press targets specific muscle groups and provides unique advantages, making it a popular choice among fitness enthusiasts. In this article, we will delve into the intricacies of the Smith machine…

[hotshotsxyz]

the taste of iron

(buddie) (2.3k words) (8x01 alternate ending) so i made a joke the other day about what would have happened if buck hadn't pushed gerrard out of the way and then i kept thinking about it and then it wasn't a joke anymore and now we're here content warning: minor character death (but like. it's gerrard) (also blood related to said death)

Gerrard is so fucking loud. The vitriol, the bigotry, that’s what makes Buck angry, but it’s the volume that sets his teeth on edge. How it isn’t driving the rest of them insane, he’ll never understand.

The more he berates, the louder he gets. The construction, just feet away, adds to the cacophony. Buck can feel his eardrums vibrating with every spit-punctuated syllable that flies from Gerrard’s mouth. He needs it to stop, he needs it to—

All at once, three things happen. Gerrard’s hand comes up, finger pointed accusingly at the center of his chest. Buck takes an instinctive step back and stumbles, just enough to throw him off balance. The sound of the saw changes.

The split second it takes for Buck to steady himself is a split second too long.  The saw blade flies across the room and embeds itself in the engine, but not before slicing deep into the tissue of Gerrard’s throat. Arterial blood sprays itself across Buck’s face. For a moment, everything goes quiet. Then, it descends into chaos.

Distantly, Buck hears someone shout his name. A hand grabs his shoulder and—

Firefighter needs help, I repeat—

—spins him around.

“Buck!” It’s Eddie’s voice, but Eddie—

Are you hurt?

—Eddie’s hands are on him, on his face, on his chest. They come away red and slick with blood.

“You’re okay, Buck, look at me, you’re okay.”

Go! Go, go, go go!

Buck blinks. Swallows. He tastes—

Three minutes away, we’re so close.

Eddie’s hands find his face again. “Look at me,” he says, as if Buck could ever look away. “I need you to breathe.”

I need you to hang—I need you to hang on.

Buck takes a breath, then another. There’s blood on his face. Eddie’s hands are on his face. Eddie’s hands are covered in blood. It’s not Eddie’s blood. It’s not Eddie’s blood.

There’s a siren, but Eddie’s not in the engine. Eddie’s in front of him, still standing. Eddie—

“Just like that, there you go. With me. In… and out…” His voice is calm, steady, unlabored.

“You’re—” Buck croaks.

Eddie’s eyes are wide and brown and focused. “I’m right here, Buck, keep breathing with me.”

His hand rises of its own accord and finds Eddie’s shoulder. The fabric of his t-shirt is dry and undamaged. Eddie’s brows draw together and a moment later realization seems to dawn.

“I’m okay, Buck,” he says, painfully quiet. “I’m not hurt.”

All at once, the tension that’s been keeping him upright goes. He stumbles, and without Eddie’s steadying grip, he’d probably fall. Buck blinks a few times, and the blurry world around him and Eddie comes back into focus.

Eddie’s turned him away from the engine bay, away from what must be an ocean of blood behind him. Everything he can see looks normal, but it’s unnaturally quiet. Buck lets out a shaky breath.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and it’s like shattering glass the way it breaks the silence.

Eddie’s face relaxes a fraction. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Buck lets Eddie pull him toward the locker room and guide him down onto the bench. He’s gentle, like Buck might break if he presses just a little bit too hard. He pulls at Buck’s shirt until it comes untucked, then carefully peels it off of him, leaving shivering gooseflesh in his wake.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie says, “I promise.”

Buck nods numbly.

Eddie slips into the bathroom, and a moment later Buck hears the sound of running water. He comes back a few seconds later with clean hands and a damp towel.

“Okay,” he says quietly. He kneels and brings the towel to Buck’s cheek. It’s warm; Eddie must’ve waited for the water to heat before wetting it.

With one hand, Eddie drags the towel in soft, short strokes across Buck’s skin. The other cups the back of his head, steadying him. Buck’s eyes flutter closed, and Eddie takes the opportunity to carefully wipe at the blood that flecks his eyelids.

Finally, Buck hears the towel drop wetly to the floor and opens his eyes.

“With me?” Eddie asks. His eyes bore into Buck’s.

“Yeah,” he rasps.

Eddie squeezes his knee and stands. “Good,” he says, turning away just long enough to fish a sweatshirt from his locker and hand it to Buck.

“Thanks.” Buck pulls the sweatshirt on and is immediately enveloped by the smell of Eddie’s laundry detergent. It settles a little more of the anxiety that’s dug itself deep into his stomach.

Eddie settles next to him on the bench and brushes their shoulders together. “You want to talk about it?”

Buck shakes his head. He doesn’t. But—

“Is he dead?”

In his peripherals, Buck sees Eddie frown. “Probably,” he says after a long moment.

“Oh.” Buck feels less about that than he thought he might. He’s neither sad nor relieved, though he suspects the apathy will fade with the shock. “Can we go home?”

Eddie huffs a soft breath that might’ve been a laugh on another day. “Yeah. Pretty sure the 118’s not going back into service until B shift gets here.”

“Who’s going to deal with…” Buck trails off.

“Not us,” Eddie says decisively. He stands and grabs both of their bags from the lockers. “Come on, I’ll drive.”

“You hate driving,” Buck says quietly.

The corner of Eddie’s mouth ticks up. “Which is why I owe you more rides than you’ll ever cash in on.”

Buck surprises himself with something close to a laugh. “Yeah, okay,” he says.

Eddie all but manhandles him into the passenger seat of the truck, lingering just a moment longer than strictly necessary, then jogs over to the driver’s side. He turns the key in the ignition and fiddles with the radio until it lands on a station playing something old and soft.

As far as Buck can tell, it’s not a song he’s heard before, but it’s warm and comfortable all the same. He relaxes into his seat and pulls the sleeves of Eddie’s sweatshirt over his knuckles. It’s loose on him, unlike the majority of Eddie’s clothing, and Buck wonders if he bought it with a day like this in mind.

Eddie taps his fingers on the wheel as he drives and glances over at Buck every time they hit a red light. He’s quiet, though, and Buck is too, grateful for the chance to gather himself in the near silence. By the time they pull into Eddie’s driveway, Buck’s starting to feel mostly like a person again.

He follows Eddie inside, and it’d probably feel like any other day if he wasn’t still wearing his uniform pants and boots.

“I’m just gonna…” Buck says, nodding toward Eddie’s bedroom as he toes out of his shoes.

Eddie steps around him and squeezes his elbow. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” he says, but it feels a little more like, ‘take all the time you need, I’ll still be here’.

Buck’s had a drawer at Eddie’s almost as long as he’s known him. He bypasses that drawer and goes straight for the one that houses Eddie’s most comfortable and threadbare pajamas. He changes into a pair of soft cutoffs, and with his uniform sheds the last of the tension in his shoulders.

He wanders into the kitchen and finds Eddie whisking eggs in a mixing bowl. Wordlessly, Buck sets the table and pours two glasses of orange juice. When he’s done, he sits, knowing exactly what Eddie will say if he offers to help with the food.

A few minutes later, Eddie carries two plates to the table. Breakfast is simple, just scrambled eggs and toast, but Eddie’s gotten good at this; the eggs are beautifully fluffy and the toast is a perfect golden brown.

“Hang on a sec,” Eddie says.

He goes over to the fridge and returns with a new, unopened jar of blueberry preserves, the kind you can only get at the farmer’s market. Buck swallows thickly, suddenly aware of just how many words are caught in his throat.

“Thanks,” he says, the only one of them he thinks will come out painlessly.

Eddie ghosts his hand along Buck’s shoulder then sits in the chair closest to his.

“Eat,” he says softly, and it’s only then that Buck realizes he hasn’t even picked up his fork.

Buck read somewhere, once, that the physical act of chewing was enough to meaningfully lower cortisol levels. He’s not actually sure if it’s true, but sitting here with Eddie, he thinks it might be. It makes sense – you don’t stop to eat until the danger has passed. You eat when you feel safe. Buck feels safe. He spreads blueberry preserves on his toast and eats.

When he’s done, Eddie grabs both of their plates and drops them in the sink. He returns to his chair.

“Do you want to talk or try to get some rest?” he asks after a long moment.

Rest sounds really good, actually, but—“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” Buck admits.

“We can watch a movie,” Eddie says, offering him an out.

Buck smiles half-heartedly. “Not sure I can do that, either,” he says.

“Then tell me,” Eddie says, voice full of all the concern he hasn’t expressed yet.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Buck says, finding it to be true as soon as it leaves his mouth.

Eddie looks conflicted for a second, but then his expression steels. “When I got shot. That’s what it reminded you of, right?”

There’s a certain relief in not having to voice it himself. Buck nods.

“Okay,” Eddie says gently.

“For—for a second I wasn’t in the station anymore. It was—I know you don’t really remember anything about that day.” Buck shrugs helplessly.

“I do,” Eddie offers. “Not most of it, I mean, but…” Eddie lifts his hand to Buck’s face and brushes a thumb along the curve of his cheek.   

Something Buck doesn’t have a name for clenches in his stomach.

“I have this picture of you in my head; I was never quite sure whether or not I dreamed it.”

Buck’s breath catches in his chest.

“Guess not,” Eddie says ruefully, shaking his head.

“What, um—what do you—” Buck presses his lips together as the rest of the question refuses to form in his mouth.

Eddie sighs. “We never really talked about this, did we?”

Buck frowns. “We did,” he says.

Eddie shakes his head. “We talked about me, but you were there, too.”

“I didn’t get shot, Eddie.”

“And I didn’t get struck by lightning.”

Buck looks down at his hands and realizes they’re shaking.

“I know what it feels like to watch you die, Buck,” Eddie says seriously. “And you know how it feels to be covered in my blood.”

“I know how it tastes,” Buck corrects quietly. He glances up in time to see the stricken expression on Eddie’s face.

“What?” he breathes.

“It was the only thing I could taste for weeks.” Eddie’s hands find his. “And then today, I tasted it again.”

“Buck,” Eddie says roughly. Buck’s always liked the way his name sounds on Eddie’s lips. He says it like it means something.

All at once, Buck realizes that he’s been waiting years for permission to talk about this, permission Eddie’s finally given him, and it all comes pouring out.

“I thought you were gonna die, Eds. I—I thought I was going to have the taste of your blood in my mouth for the rest of my life. And I—god, I blamed myself for—for not seeing it coming, or getting to you faster.”

Eddie’s hands tighten around his. “You got there fast enough. You saved me,” he says.

Buck laughs softly. “I know. In my head I know that, but—but it never feels like it.”

“Still?” Eddie asks.

In lieu of a response, Buck takes one of Eddie’s hands in his own and presses his fingers to the pulse point in his wrist. His heart beats strong and steady. Buck closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says.

He blinks them back open. His brow furrows. “For what?”

Eddie’s lips twist painfully. “We should have talked about this a long time ago. I should’ve asked.”

Buck shakes his head. “That’s not on you.”

“I think it might be,” Eddie says.

“You got shot,” Buck says. “You’re allowed to avoid the subject.”

Eddie huffs a soft breath. “I think…” he trails off.

Buck waits, counting every beat of Eddie’s pulse against his fingertips.

“I think I was afraid that if we talked about it, I’d remember.”

“And you didn’t want to,” Buck says. “I get that.”

“It’s all so blurry,” Eddie says, “but I remember the way it hurt. I remember being afraid. But I also—there was a moment, somewhere in all that, when I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

Buck bites his lip and nods.

“And…” Eddie’s jaw tightens for a moment. “And when I think about that, I—that’s when I see you.”

Buck takes a sharp, aching breath.

Eddie watches him for a long moment until something minute shifts in his expression. “Oh,” he says softly.

“What?” Buck asks.

Eddie shakes his head. “I just—I remembered something else.”

“Do you want to…”

“I think I’m gonna need a minute with this one,” Eddie says. “But I’ll tell you. I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” Buck says.

The corner of Eddie’s mouth ticks up into a small smile. “I know.”

“Okay,” Buck says softly. He holds Eddie’s gaze for several seconds, but nothing in it scares him. It’s Eddie, warm, perceptive and sure. “I—I think I might be able to sleep.”

“Good,” Eddie says. He stands, pulling Buck up with him. “Come on.”

And just as he has every other time Eddie’s asked him to, Buck follows.

[heartmaddie]

sakusa kiyoomi when you're sick includes fluff , kiyoomi is a cutie , you're in a relationship

sakusa doesn't know what he's doing here.

standing outside your door, tightly gripping onto the flimsy plastic of a convenience store bag which was filled with various medicines and groceries for him to cook. to him, this felt a bit too intimate. showing up to your home unannounced because your classmate told him you were out sick and he knew that your parents weren’t home, so who would look after you if it wasn’t him? 

realistically, he could turn around right now, you didn’t know he was here yet. but there was something unfamiliar which pulled him towards your front door. an unsettling sensation bloomed deep in his chest when he’d imagine you sick, all alone on your bed. 

before he knew it, his legs were pulling him towards your door, he sighs as he presses his finger against your doorbell, hoping that you weren’t sleeping. a couple moments later, the door shifts open and he sees you, bundled in his dark sweatshirt and a pair of large trousers, and his expression softens slightly.

“oh, yn” he mumbles, gently rubbing your cheek, “you look so unwell.”

“why are you here kiyoomi?” you ask, obviously congested as you looked up at him confused. you knew about his aversion to disease, and how he’d go out of his way to ensure that he wouldn’t get sick, so you weren’t exactly sure on why he was here, holding you gently like this.

kiyoomi shrugs nonchalantly and pushes past you, closing the door as he slips off his shoes and neatly places them near the door. 

“i just felt like it, why aren’t you in bed?” he questions, unpacking all the medicines and aligning them in a neat row before moving to wash the vegetables and fruits, looking over at you occasionally.

“i had a really horrible headache, and i couldn’t get to sleep.” you explained, moving to lean your head on his back, gently brushing your fingers against his arm. kiyoomi smiles to himself, looking back at you with a soft expression.

“tired?” he asks gently, curling his fingers against your soft hair. you nod in response, letting out a yawn as you rubbed your face against his back.

“so exhausted, i hate being sick like this,” you complained. he thought you were cute, with your nose red and dry as you looked up at him expectantly, “what are you cooking?”

“okayu.” he states simply, washing the rice efficiently, “you should go lie down on the couch, have you had any medicine today?” he asks pointedly, letting out a deep sigh when you shake your head no. “you should be taking better care of yourself, there’s pei ko on the island bench.”

“i know, but i’ve just been so bedridden today.” you slip away from him, and kiyoomi can't help but miss the comfort of your warmth. he watches as you pour 10 ml of the thick medicine into a plastic cup, before downing the medicine, it’s sickeningly sweet on your tongue, and he smiles when he sees you scrunch your face up. 

“go lie down on the couch while i make this for you.” he sighs, gently pulling you in for a soft kiss before walking you to the sofa, he guides you onto lying onto the couch, pushing your hair behind your ears as he adjusts the pillow behind you. 

you look up at him as he works, letting him pamper you as you feel the weight of your sickness settled in your bones. sakusa kiyoomi was infamous for being a perfectionist, but he let that go when it was just you. he’d gently lay blankets over your body, pressing kisses against your cough ridden lips between each layer.

“okay, just try to sleep while i cook for you, and i’ll wake you up when it’s done. okay?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he strokes your hair, lulling you to sleep.

he promptly moves back to the kitchen, continuing to swiftly cut shallots and occasionally check on the simmering pot as the sea-like smell of dashi powder wafts through the air of your home. sakusa would have a small smile on his face when he heard you sleeping soundly, this was oddly domestic, and he somehow didn’t mind the predicament. 

a half hour later you feel kiyoomi gently nudging you awake, the tray of okayu and a variety of different side dishes on a tray which is laid on the coffee table.

“is it ready?” you asked tiredly, rubbing your eyes as kiyoomi nodded.

“yeah, here.” he passes you a box of tissues and rubs your shoulder when you blow your nose, “ready to eat?” he asks curiously, helping you sit up.

“yeah, thank you. it looks really nice, baby.” you smile up at him, bringing the metal spoon to your mouth. the porridge was warm on your tongue, and had a satisfying light taste. he was good at this.

you sat in silence, leaning against his shoulder as the only sounds which surrounded you was the metal scraping against the wooden bowl. kiyoomi was glad that you seemed to be enjoying the meal he prepared, he would bury his nose into your hair as he held you close, circling his fingers against your waist.

he watches as you set the cutlery on the finished tray and he hums softly.

“did you enjoy it?” he asks curiously, “made your throat feel a bit better?”

“yeah, it was really soothing, thank you omi.” you reply, curling against his chest.

“okay, let’s get you to bed then.” he’d scoop you up into his arms, walking you towards your warm bedroom and tucking you in tight, “i’ll come join you in a bit, i’m gonna clean up first.” but before he could leave you clutched onto his arm tight.

“stay, just for a bit.” you ask, looking up at him with tired eyes, “just until i fall asleep.” 

who was he to say no.

sakusa nods and slips into the bed next to you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping the blankets around you securely. he lets out a deep sigh of relief, feeling his muscles relax in your comforting presence, even if he can already feel his throat tightening with the same sickness as yours. 

“feeling better?” he asks, twirling your hair against your finger as he feels your head shift up and downwards against his chest.

“yeah, a lot better since you got here.” you admit, “it was miserable being home all alone today.” making kiyoomi nod in response.

“sounds boring, i’m glad i came since you weren’t eating your proper nutrients, hm?” he scolds, smiling against your scalp, “it’s how you’re supposed to get better, silly girl,” you nod lazily in response.

“i know, but i was just so tired.” you whine,

“then rest, and be quiet now.” he shushes you, pressing a final kiss to your lips before cradling your head in his arms, signalling that he wanted to sleep too.

sakusa kiyoomi would gently pepper kisses against your temple as he felt your slow breaths rise up and down against him, he’d spend hours memorising the pattern, occasionally matching his breaths to yours. he’d shift his hold on you when you moved around in your sleep, sometimes taking the subconscious initiate to curl against him, wrapping your arms tightly as you’d nuzzle your soft head against him.

kiyoomi didn’t think he was built for this, the domesticity of somebody else in his arms. he was scared of course, it was so him to be afraid of contracting your disease, but he didn’t necessarily think about it this time. you were his priority now, so he was okay with the high chance of having the flu than watch you suffer in your lonesome. maybe the way you’d fit perfectly in his arms every time would make him rethink his innate desires, because kiyoomi had a very individualistic mindset, his whole future was planned out since the ripe age of 11, but maybe he’d want to welcome you into that too. 

! extra

a couple weeks later, you look over to your boyfriend and hear a newly familiar sound,

“a-achoo!” he sneezes, cringing as he wipes his nose, “it’s all over for me” he sighs dramatically, leaning against your shoulder as he seeks your warmth, letting you spoon feed him bits of okayu with poached chicken.

please consider liking, reblogging or following if you enjoyed! i need to nibble on him so bad

[golden1u5t]

mile high | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: you're bored and teasing spencer seemed to be harmless and entertaining until he pops a boner, you take your chances with inviting him into the small bathroom to have a quickie.

you and spencer were sitting on the small couch at the back of the jet while everyone else caught up on the sleep they missed on the case. spencer was doing what he usually did, reading a book, while you were doing what you usually did, watching him flip through the pages.

"stop looking at me like that." he murmured, dropping his book on his lap to cover his growing bulge. you leaned onto his shoulder and slid your hand across his cardigan clad stomach, grinning at the way his body tensed under your touch.

teasing spencer in public wasn't something you did often but then again he's usually more composed than he was now, you could probably count on one hand how many times he'd gotten aroused in public.

"what's wrong, spence? a girl can't look at her beautiful boy?" you spoke directly into his ear, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear causing a shiver to travel up his spine. you moved your hand under his shirt and traced the ridges of his abdomen, your cool hand quickly warming up from the heat radiating off of his skin.

"y/n..." he grabbed ahold of your wrist to stop your hand from moving further down.

"i'll be in the bathroom, for when you're done pretending to be more interested in that book." you stood up and made your way into the small bathroom on the jet, making sure to glance back at him before you shut the door.

spencer stared at the door for a few seconds before looking down at the book in his hands, the feeling of his cock straining against his pants caused him to toss the book onto the bench beside him. as he quietly walked to the bathroom, he glanced at the team to make sure they were still asleep before slipping into the bathroom.

as soon as he closed the door behind him you grasped his shirt and pulled him between your open legs, wasting no time and smashing your lips into his. spencer let out a muffled noise of surprise at how fast you were moving, his hands steadying himself on the counter you were sitting on.

spencer pulled away from your lips when your fingers started to swiftly unbutton his cardigan, shrugging it off of his shoulders and setting it on the counter. you slid off the counter and turned around, you unbuttoned your jeans and pushed them and your panties down you legs.

his eyes nearly bulged out of his head when you bent over and exposed your glistening folds to him. no matter how many times he's seen your body, each time always took him back to the first time. though, each time he learned to grow more confident when touching you.

"we don't have all day, spence." you gently reminded him, pushing your ass back to pull him out of the trance he seemed to be in.

"right, sorry." he quickly unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down his legs. he took ahold of his cock and guided it through your slit, letting the tip bump into your throbbing clit few times before he lined up with your entrance and slid in.

your head dropped down onto your arm as you bit down on your bottom lip to silence yourself. spencer let out a shaky breath and tentatively pulled his hips back until just the tip was nuzzled in your warmth and then pushed back in.

his hands gripped the plushy flesh on your hips as his hips fell into that familiar steady rhythm. a whimper fell from his parted lips as he leaned over your body and laid his head on your shoulder.

"this is insane." he groaned, thinking about how the team was just outside the door and anyone could wake up and barge in at any given moment. you hummed in response and pushed back into him, basically fucking yourself on his cock.

spencer wrapped his arm around your body and pressed his fingers to your clit, relishing in the sound of your moans. you both tried to stay quiet but you were so immersed in the pleasure you hardly had any regards to how loud you were.

the combination of his cock pressing deep in your cunt and his fingers circling your swollen clit, sent you right over the edge. you placed your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from making too much noise. you relaxed into your folded arms on the counter when the rush was over, though your cunt continued to throb around his cock

spencer whined and whimpered against your heated skin as he felt himself getting close, his once steady pace faltering. you reached back and tugged at his hair, purposely clenching your walls around his cock.

just as you felt his hips still and his warm cum flood your walls, your ears popped, signaling that the plane was descending for landing. spencer let out a ragged huff and stood up, pulling his softening cock out of your warmth. he watched as his cum seeped out of you before gathering it with his fingers and stuffed it back in your cunt.

you stood up and pulled your bottoms up, spencer did the same. you both took a minute to make sure you looked presentable before opening the door and walking out. you noticed that everyone was, in fact, awake and staring at you. spencer lowered his gaze to the floor as he trailed behind you.

"what?" you mumbled and glanced at all of them, they all shook their heads and looked down. luckily, the pilot's voice sounded through the intercom and filled the awkward silence.

[s4kura-tr3]

Ice skating! - how ice skating goes with the jjk men

Gojo satoru

The crisp winter air nipped at your nose as you laced up your skates on the bench by the rink. Gojo was already on the ice, gliding effortlessly, his white hair catching the light and his signature blue blindfold wrapped snugly around his eyes. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the attention he was drawing from passersby.

“Are you going to stand there admiring me all day, or are you coming?” he teased, his voice carrying over the soft music and chatter around the rink.

“I’m not admiring you!” you retorted, standing up and wobbling slightly on your skates.

Gojo was at your side in an instant, his gloved hands steadying you with ease. “Sure you aren’t,” he smirked, pulling you gently onto the ice.

You weren’t the most graceful skater, but Gojo made sure to keep a firm grip on your hands, his laughter echoing each time you stumbled. He glided backward with ease, as if showing off his skills, all while ensuring you didn’t fall.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it,” he said after a few minutes, his tone light and encouraging.

You narrowed your eyes. “I think you’re just distracting me so I won’t notice how much you’re showing off.”

His grin widened. “Caught me. But admit it—you like the view.”

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a playful shove, though it barely moved him. He retaliated by spinning you in a circle, his hold on you firm as you shrieked.

Eventually, you both ended up at the center of the rink, the world around you fading into a blur of lights and laughter. Gojo lifted his blindfold just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his vibrant blue eyes, now crinkled with warmth as he looked at you.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” he said, leaning in slightly.

“Thanks to my show-off teacher,” you replied with a grin.

“Always happy to be of service.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before pulling you into another spin, his laughter mingling with yours as the night stretched on.

Geto suguru

The first flakes of snow began to fall as you tightened your scarf around your neck, glancing over at Suguru, who stood beside you, exuding a quiet calmness that always seemed to put you at ease. His long black hair was tied back, and his sharp features softened as he smiled at you.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out a hand as you both approached the ice rink.

“Not really,” you admitted with a nervous laugh, eyeing the skaters gliding around. “I’m not great at this.”

Suguru chuckled, his warm breath visible in the cold air. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you steady.”

You took his hand and let him guide you onto the ice. His grip was firm and reassuring as you wobbled, gripping his arm for dear life.

“See? Not so bad,” he said, his voice low and comforting. He moved slowly, matching your hesitant pace.

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, glancing at how effortlessly he moved across the ice, even while staying close to you.

Suguru leaned in, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just wanted an excuse to hold onto me.”

You shot him a playful glare. “As if you’re not enjoying being my personal crutch.”

He smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you even more. “Guilty. But I’ll take care of you—always.”

As you grew more confident, Suguru led you to the center of the rink, where the crowd thinned. The two of you glided side by side, your laughter mixing with the soft hum of holiday music.

When your legs started to tire, Suguru suggested a break. You sat together on a bench by the rink, your gloved hands holding warm cups of hot chocolate. He reached over to brush a snowflake from your hair, his touch gentle.

“See? You survived,” he teased, his smile warm.

“Thanks to you,” you admitted, leaning against his shoulder.

Suguru pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur. “Anytime, love. As long as it’s with you, I’ll go anywhere—even an ice rink.”

Nanami Kento

The winter chill brushed against your cheeks as you adjusted your scarf, watching Nanami lace up his skates with precision. His beige coat and signature tie stood out against the soft, snowy backdrop, and you couldn’t help but smile at how out of place he looked at the bustling, cheerful ice rink.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked, glancing up at you with a slightly skeptical look. “You know I’m not one for… recreational chaos.”

You laughed, tugging on his arm. “It’s not chaos. It’s fun! Come on, Kento, you need a break from all your seriousness.”

With a resigned sigh, he allowed you to pull him toward the ice. The moment his skates hit the surface, he wobbled slightly, his usually impeccable composure cracking for a split second. You bit back a giggle as you held his hand.

“Don’t say a word,” he muttered, his voice calm but tinged with embarrassment.

“I didn’t say anything!” you teased, leading him forward slowly.

Despite his initial hesitance, Nanami quickly found his balance. His hand stayed firmly in yours, his grip protective as he made sure you didn’t stumble. He moved with surprising ease, his natural elegance shining through even on the ice.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He adjusted his glasses, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I may have gone once or twice. But only because someone convinced me it was good for bonding.”

“And was it?”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “It is now.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you tightened your hold on his hand. As the two of you glided across the rink, the festive lights reflected in his warm brown eyes, making him seem even more breathtaking than usual.

When you stumbled, his arm immediately circled your waist, steadying you. “Careful,” he said, his voice low but full of concern.

You looked up at him, your cheeks flushed. “Thanks, Kento. You’re pretty good at this whole ‘not letting me fall’ thing.”

“I try,” he replied, his lips twitching into a rare, genuine smile.

After a while, you both retired to a nearby bench, sipping hot drinks as snow continued to fall around you. Nanami draped his scarf over your shoulders, ensuring you stayed warm.

“Thank you for convincing me to come,” he said, his tone softer now. “I don’t always allow myself to enjoy moments like this, but… I’m glad I did. With you.”

You leaned into him, your heart swelling with affection. “You deserve moments like this, Kento. And I’ll make sure you have them.”

His hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you sat there, basking in the quiet magic of the winter evening.

Toji fushiguro

The rink was alive with the sound of laughter and the glimmer of lights reflecting off the ice. Snowflakes fell softly, clinging to your coat as you adjusted your child’s scarf. Megumi stood between you and Toji, his small hands stuffed into his coat pockets, eyes scanning the rink with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Megumi pouted, glancing at the skates in Toji’s hands. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure about this, squirt?” Toji asked, crouching down to Megumi’s level.

You chuckled, kneeling beside them. “He’s determined. Just like his dad.”

Toji smirked at your comment but shook his head. “Alright, tough guy. Let’s get you laced up.” He reached out to help Megumi, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he tied the skates securely.

Once everyone was ready, you made your way onto the ice. Toji, of course, stepped on effortlessly, moving with the confidence of someone who could master anything he tried. You wobbled slightly, but his hand was there in an instant, steadying you.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he said, smirking. “Don’t want you taking me down with you.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just focus on not showing off too much.”

Meanwhile, Megumi stood at the edge of the rink, gripping the railing with wide eyes. His little feet shuffled, but he wasn’t quite ready to move.

“Megumi, come on!” you called, extending your hand.

Toji skated over and crouched in front of him. “What’s wrong? Afraid you’ll fall?”

Megumi frowned, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. “No… I just don’t want to look dumb.”

Toji chuckled, ruffling his hair. “Kid, no one cares what you look like. Besides…” He held out his hand. “You’ve got me and your mom. We won’t let you fall.”

Hesitant but trusting, Megumi grabbed Toji’s hand, and the three of you made your way onto the ice together.

Megumi clung tightly to both of you at first, his little legs trembling as he slid awkwardly over the surface. Toji encouraged him with gruff but kind words, while you cheered him on with every step he managed to take.

“You’re doing great, Megumi!” you said, smiling brightly.

“I’m not even skating,” he muttered, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Baby steps,” Toji said with a smirk, glancing down at his son. “You’ll be zipping around in no time.”

After a while, Megumi started to loosen up, his movements more confident. Toji even let go of his hand for a moment, skating backward to give him space. “Look at that! Told you you’d get it,” Toji said, his voice full of pride.

Megumi wobbled but managed to stay upright, his face lighting up with a rare smile. “I’m doing it!”

You laughed, clapping your hands. “See? You’re a natural!”

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter and playful moments. Toji even surprised you by spinning you around on the ice, holding you close as you squealed. “Show-off,” you teased, but your heart swelled at how effortlessly he balanced being both playful and protective.

By the time you all left the rink, Megumi was bundled up and walking between the two of you, holding your hands. He was exhausted but happy, leaning his head against Toji’s side.

“You were right,” Megumi mumbled sleepily. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Toji chuckled, lifting him up into his arms. “Told you, kid. Your old man knows a thing or two.”

You smiled, resting your head on Toji’s shoulder as you walked back to the car, the three of you wrapped in the warmth of family and the magic of a winter evening.

Sukuna Ryomen

Sukuna’s estate was eerily quiet as he lounged on his throne, the flickering light of torches casting shadows on the walls. He hadn’t seen you in hours, and though he didn’t show it, the absence of your usual presence was unsettling.

“Uraume,” he called, his deep voice reverberating through the hall.

Uraume appeared quickly, bowing their head. “Yes, my lord?”

“Where is she?” Sukuna’s tone was calm, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that brooked no excuses.

“I believe she went outside, my lord,” Uraume replied, hesitating slightly. “By the frozen pond.”

Sukuna’s crimson eyes narrowed, and without another word, he rose from his seat, his towering form exuding authority as he made his way outside.

The cold winter air bit at his skin, but he barely noticed. His four eyes scanned the snow-covered grounds, his sharp senses quickly honing in on laughter—your laughter.

His lips curled into a smirk as he approached the pond, the sight before him catching him off guard. You were slipping and sliding across the ice, your movements clumsy but full of joy. Uraume stood at the edge, their usually stoic face softened with faint amusement as they watched you.

“Careful!” Uraume called when you nearly lost your footing, but you laughed it off, waving a hand.

“I’m fine! See? I can do this!” you replied, taking another step—only to slip and land on your back with a soft thud.

“Enjoying yourself, little one?” he drawled, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.

Sukuna’s deep chuckle rumbled through the air, causing both you and Uraume to freeze. You turned your head, finding him standing at the edge of the pond, his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face.

Your cheeks flushed as you scrambled to sit up. “I… was just testing the ice,” you muttered, brushing snow off your clothes.

“Testing it, were you?” Sukuna stepped onto the ice effortlessly, his movements unnervingly graceful for someone his size. The ice groaned slightly under his weight, but it held firm as he strode toward you.

You blinked up at him, pouting. “You don’t have to make fun of me, you know.”

He crouched down in front of you, his sharp claws brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I’m not making fun,” he said, though the smirk on his lips betrayed him. “But I don’t recall giving you permission to wander off.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” you admitted softly, glancing away.

His smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of quiet intensity. “I always notice,” he said, his tone low but firm.

Before you could respond, Sukuna stood and held out a hand to you. “Come. If you insist on playing out here, at least let me make sure you don’t break your neck.”

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. He pulled you to your feet with ease, his grip steady as you wobbled on the ice.

“You’re actually helping?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t get used to it,” he replied, though his smirk had returned.

Uraume watched silently, a faint smile tugging at their lips as Sukuna guided you across the ice, his usually commanding demeanor softened by your presence. For a moment, the cold winter night didn’t feel so harsh, the warmth of his rare affection wrapping around you like a blanket.

Megumi Fushiguro

The chill of the winter air was invigorating as you tugged on your skates, sitting on a bench by the ice rink. The twinkling lights strung overhead made everything feel magical, but what had you smiling the most was the sight of Megumi hesitantly tying his skates beside you.

“You look nervous,” you teased, nudging him gently.

“I’m not nervous,” he muttered, though his furrowed brow and the way he was double-checking the laces on his skates said otherwise.

Once he finished, you stood and held out your hand. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

He looked up at you, his dark eyes full of doubt. “You know I’m not good at this.”

“That’s the point! You’ll have me to help you,” you replied with a grin, giving his hand a little tug.

With a resigned sigh, Megumi let you pull him onto the ice. The moment his skates touched the surface, his legs wobbled precariously, and he gripped your arm like his life depended on it.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” he muttered, glaring at the ice as if it had personally wronged him.

“Because you love me,” you said cheekily, trying not to laugh as he stumbled again.

He huffed but didn’t argue, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

You moved slowly, holding his hands as you guided him across the ice. Every few steps, he would slip or falter, but you were always there to catch him.

“Megumi, you’re so stiff,” you said after a while, laughing. “Relax a little!”

“If I relax, I’ll fall,” he grumbled, his shoulders hunched as he concentrated on staying upright.

“You’re going to fall if you keep overthinking it!”

As if to prove your point, his skate caught on a groove in the ice, and he stumbled forward. You tried to catch him, but his weight sent both of you toppling over, landing in a heap on the ice.

For a moment, there was silence, and then you burst into laughter. “See? Not so bad!”

Megumi groaned, propping himself up on his elbows. “Speak for yourself,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself.

You reached out and booped his nose. “You’re doing great, Megumi. Really. I mean, you’ve only fallen once!”

“That’s once too many,” he said, rolling his eyes but letting you help him back up.

As the night went on, he started to loosen up a bit, though his movements were still far from graceful. You skated circles around him, giggling as he grumbled about how unfair it was.

“Stop showing off,” he said, though there was no real bite in his tone.

“Come on, you’re getting better!” you said, skating back to him and holding out your hands. “Trust me.”

He hesitated for a moment before taking your hands. His grip was firm, but he let you pull him forward, his balance improving little by little.

By the end of the night, he was still far from a pro, but he managed to skate a few feet without holding onto you. “See? You’re a natural,” you said, beaming at him.

He gave you a skeptical look but didn’t deny it, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe. But I think I’ll stick to solid ground next time.”

You laughed, leaning into his side as you both sat down to take off your skates. “Fair enough. But admit it—you had fun.”

He glanced at you, his eyes softening. “Yeah… I guess I did.”

Yuji Itadori

The winter air was crisp as you arrived at the rink with Yuji, his excitement practically radiating off him. He’d been talking about this all week, hyping up his “hidden skating talent,” though you had your doubts.

“I’ve got this,” Yuji said confidently as he tugged on his skates. His grin was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how determined he looked.

“You sure? You don’t even know if you’re good at skating,” you teased, lacing up your own skates.

“I’m good at pretty much everything!” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically.

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Alright, Mr. Natural Talent. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The moment Yuji stepped onto the ice, his confidence wavered. His arms flailed as his skates slid in opposite directions, and you had to grab his arm to keep him from falling.

“Hidden talent, huh?” you said, grinning as you steadied him.

“It’s just… slippery!” he defended, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. “Give me a second!”

Yuji held onto the railing with a death grip as you skated beside him, your laughter filling the air. “You’re so bad at this!” you teased, watching as he carefully tried to push off with his skates, only to nearly fall again.

“I’m just warming up!” he insisted, though his wobbly movements said otherwise.

After a while, you decided to help him out, skating backward in front of him and holding his hands. “Okay, let’s try this. I’ll guide you.”

He looked at your hands, then back at you, his expression softening. “You sure? I don’t wanna crush you if I fall.”

You smiled. “I’ve got you, Yuji. Trust me.”

With your help, he started to find his balance. His grin returned as he managed a few steps without slipping. “Hey, look! I’m doing it!”

“You are!” you cheered, matching his pace. “See? You’re not hopeless after all.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said, laughing.

As the night went on, Yuji got more comfortable, though he was still far from graceful. He occasionally tried to show off, attempting a spin or a quick glide, but it always ended with him flailing or falling. You couldn’t stop laughing, especially when he’d pop back up with an exaggerated “I’m fine!”

At one point, he slipped and accidentally pulled you down with him. You both landed in a heap on the ice, laughter spilling out as you tried to untangle yourselves.

“This is not how I imagined skating would go,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“But it’s fun, right?” you said, leaning against him as you caught your breath.

He looked at you, his cheeks pink but not from the cold. “Yeah. It’s perfect,” he said softly, his usual playful tone replaced with something more sincere.

You smiled, leaning closer. “Even if you’re terrible at it?”

He chuckled, bumping his forehead gently against yours. “Especially because I’m terrible at it. Gives me an excuse to stick close to you.”

By the end of the night, neither of you had mastered skating, but it didn’t matter. You left the rink hand in hand, the cold winter air feeling a little warmer with him by your side.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Protective

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: You get injured

Mapi was on her feet the moment you went down.

She was sitting on the bench, having been subbed off earlier in the match. Ingrid was still on the pitch, playing in the defensive line while you were in your usual spot further up near the opposing goal.

"Mapi." Patri grasped her arm, the only thing stopping her from running on and giving the opposing defender a piece of her mind.

She watched as Ingrid sprinted the length of the pitch, without even stopping to think. You were lying on the ground, covering your face.

The defender was being yelled at by the ref as Alexia and Claudia stood nearby. The medics waited on the side, ready to come on the moment they were needed.

You were guided to a sitting position by Lucy and Ona just as Ingrid arrived. She crouched down in front of you, blocking Mapi's view for a moment before taking your face in her hands.

Mapi watched impatiently for a second as you turned to the side and spat out blood. It wasn't a lot but it was clearly enough to worry Ingrid, who hurriedly waved on the medics.

They grabbed at your face too, making you open and close it several times before shaking their heads at your coach.

You wouldn't be allowed to continue.

You were clapped off the pitch and didn't quite see Ingrid shoulder check the woman that took you down.

"Oh, bebita," Mapi said as you guided to the bench, an ice pack on your swollen jaw," Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," You said, though your speech was a little garbled," This is so unnecessary."

"You spat up blood," Mapi reminded you," That's pretty serious."

"That no good-" You let out a long string of curses in Swedish that would have Frido up in arms if she were there. "She's made of cement."

Mapi managed a little laugh at the outrage on your face but only a little. She reached out to move the icepack to the side.

Your jaw was a swelling mass of purple and blue and you winced when she touched it.

"Is it just this?"

You nodded. "They said it should be fine in a week or two."

"I was worried you broke it, bebita."

You grinned at her, all lopsided like a little puppy. "I haven't broken a bone in years," You said proudly.

"Well, let's keep it that way." Mapi patted your head and opened up her coat for you to snuggle into. "How do they even fix a broken jaw? Like, where do they put the cast?"

"They wire you to the teeth of the other jaw," You reported," I'd have to be on a liquid diet."

Both you and Mapi shivered in disgust.

"Well, let's just keep that jaw of yours bruised rather than broken."

You rolled your eyes, slumping further into Mapi's grip as you watched the game in front of you. Your jaw felt somewhat numb from the icepack and you pulled it away.

"Hey!" Mapi grabbed at your hand, moving it straight back to your jaw. "Keep that on there!"

"I'm fine," You said.

"Keep it there!" She insisted.

"My hand's cold," You complained.

Mapi snatched the ice pack from your hand, pressing it into your bruising jaw as she pulled out her gloves.

You knew that you wouldn't be able to get out of this one so just accepted your fate being held hostage by Mapi until the match was over.

But it wasn't just until the match was over.

Mapi fussed over you as you headed back onto the pitch to shake everyone's hands. You weren't that much shorter than her but it certainly felt like it as she led you around with a hand on your shoulder while the other kept the icepack firm against your face.

Patri and Pina both teased you from afar and you stuck your tongue out at them, your face turning red when you realised that this was absolutely going on social media tonight.

You didn't have time to dwell on it though because Ingrid appeared in front of you.

Her hands fluttered over your face. "Are you okay? How are you? How is she?"

"A few weeks out," Mapi replied," It's just bruised though, no breaking."

"That's good." Ingrid tucked you into her side. "You're coming home with us tonight, right?" She glanced at Mapi. "You've told her that she's coming back with us tonight, right?"

Mapi shrugged. "I didn't think that I had to. She comes home with us every time she's injured."

You puffed out your cheeks in annoyance. "I'm not injured, not really."

They both set you a look that had you chuckling awkwardly.

"We're getting takeout, right? Because I'm injured?"

Ingrid grinned at you, tucking you further under her arm and taking custody of the ice pack. "If you stop complaining, then yes."

You grinned back at her, more than happy to shut up and shake everybody's hand - even if Patri and Pina wandered closer to poke fun at you.

"Er...l/n, hey," The defender who took you down said.

You had been left alone briefly, Ingrid called away by Jonatan and Mapi talking with one of her friends. "Oh...hey..."

"Look, I'm really sorry about your face."

"It's fi-"

"You should be."

Ingrid and Mapi appeared on either side of you. Mapi passed you a fresh icepack and Ingrid tucked you into her side again.

"You could have seriously hurt her," Ingrid continued," Like broken her jaw, kind of hurt."

This was perhaps, more embarrassing than Patri and Pina teasing you. You already knew that cameras were going to be focused on this interaction.

"It's fine," You cut in quickly," Let's just drop it, alright? I'll be fine. We're good."

The defender, clearly catching on that they needed to vacate quickly, shook your hand. "We're good," She repeated," Cool."

"You let her off too easy," Mapi said as her eyes tracked the retreating player," She could have really hurt you."

"But she didn't and she already got carded. No harm, no foul."

"Except there was harm and there was a foul," Ingrid said. She steered you towards the tunnel, turning your back on the opposing player and thus ending the conversation.

Mapi lingered for a moment, glaring daggers before she turned around too.

"So," She said as Ingrid pressed the icepack a bit firmer into your bruising jaw," What are we thinking for dinner? I vote sushi!"

[adiraargent]

How Daiki Aomine likes to show affection

wc:0.9k Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, swearing summary: just cute things Daiki does to show you he loves you :P

The sun had barely risen when Daiki found you in the kitchen, flipping pancakes and humming a tune. You knew he had practice this morning so you wanted to make him some breakfast that he could eat before he went so he wouldn't have an empty stomach.

He sidled up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck, a warm smile playing on his lips as his large body enveloped yours.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he mumbled, peppering your neck with soft kisses, his kisses tickling your skin, making you pull away slightly with a few giggles falling from your mouth. His grip on your waist made it impossible for you to actually move away from him.

You laughed, turning your head slightly to steal a quick peck on his cheek. "Hey, you're gonna distract me, and then these pancakes will burn."

A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes, and he tightened his hold around you. "I'd rather have you than perfect pancakes," he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Daiki... you have training," you reminded him, your tone firm

He spun you around, hoisting you up onto the bench and stepped between your legs, holding your thighs apart with his hands as he leant forward, a smirk on his lips, "Training can wait... I want my breakfast first"

You push him back with a laugh and hop off the bench, going back to the pancakes and quickly flipping them, "sorry Dai, not this morning."

His affectionate nature often spoke louder than words. Daiki had his own way of expressing love without needing to say those three little words outright. Forehead kisses were his specialty, his lips meeting your forehead with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his feelings.

As the morning sun painted the kitchen in hues of gold, Daiki pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before resting his forehead against yours. It was a silent promise, an unspoken declaration of his affection.

He noticed a few stray strands of hair falling over your face and tucked them behind your ear, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. "There," he said, a small smile gracing his lips. "Now I can see your beautiful face properly."

You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and familiarity of his presence. It was those little gestures, the way he'd interlace his fingers with yours unexpectedly or pull you into a sleepy back hug while you cooked, that made your heart flutter.

"Want me to help?" Daiki asked, his chin resting on your shoulder as he reached for a spatula, his closeness adding a sense of comfort to the morning routine.

"Nah, I've got this," you replied, feeling his arms still wrapped around you, a sense of contentment settling within.

His protectiveness often shone through in subtle ways. Walking down a busy sidewalk, Daiki would switch positions with you, guiding you to the safer side, always keeping a watchful eye to ensure your safety.

Even in the busiest of mornings, when his off days clashed with your work commitments, Daiki's playful clinginess never wavered. He'd hold you a little longer, steal a few extra kisses, and reluctantly let go when it was time for him to leave.

"Hey, I remembered you mentioned liking this snack," Daiki grinned, producing a pack of your favourite treats as he returned home from training. "Thought it'd make your day better."

It was those thoughtful gestures that made your heart swell. Daiki always seemed to remember the little things, the details that made you feel seen and appreciated.

During his overseas trips for games, Daiki would often send pictures of random things he saw, every single one a silent reminder of you. A text accompanied each picture, a simple 'reminded me of you.'

In social situations that made you uneasy, Daiki's reassuring grip on your hand grounded you. He'd squeeze your hand gently, offering silent support throughout the event, his presence a calming anchor in a sea of discomfort.

Sometimes, tears would fall, and Daiki would kiss them away, his touch a balm to your pain. He never hesitated to let you cry on his shoulder, his t-shirt soaked with your tears, never once complaining.

"Everything okay?" Daiki would ask, concern etched on his face, always meeting you where you were, emotionally and mentally.

He wholeheartedly supported your dreams, making concrete plans and ensuring they came to fruition. Daiki would often drop encouraging texts before an important event, his words a source of strength.

Surprises were his forte. He'd bring home flowers for you, just because. No occasion, no reason, only his desire to see you smile.

If he was ever away for basketball, each morning and night, a text would pop up on your phone. "Good morning," or "Goodnight," accompanied by a heart emoji or a simple 'miss you.'

His way of saying 'I love you' without uttering the words explicitly extended to the little details. Daiki made you a Spotify playlist, songs that reminded him of your relationship or just songs he thought you would like. His memory was impeccable, recalling your preferences and quirks with ease.

One day, as you studied, flipping through pages of your textbook, you found post-its with little notes Daiki had left for you. Words of encouragement, doodles, and hearts, all scattered within the pages, each note bringing a smile to your face.

Hope you liked it ;P Written by: adiraargent Please do not take credit, steal, or repost anywhere else Requests are open :)

[darkstar225]

Spider-Girl gets heatstroke ft Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff

The sun bore down mercilessly on the city, amplifying the already stifling heat. Y/N Parker, also known as Spider-Girl, swung through the crowded urban landscape, her agile form navigating effortlessly between towering buildings. The snug superhero suit clung to her like a second skin, offering little reprieve from the oppressive warmth.

Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, and Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, followed closely behind. The three made an unlikely but formidable team, each contributing their unique skills to the cause. Today's mission had brought them into the heart of the city, where the scorching heat seemed to amplify with every passing minute.

As they reached the rooftop where their target was supposed to be, Y/N's movements started to slow. The heat had become an almost tangible force, sapping her strength and leaving her feeling sluggish. Wanda exchanged a concerned look with Natasha, both recognizing the toll the weather was taking on their youngest teammate. Natasha was the first to say something about it over the comms.

Natasha - Kiddo, we need to take a break. It's too hot up here.

Y/N hesitated, her hand gripping the edge of the building for support. 

Y/N - I'm fine! 

Insisted the adolescent as her voice strained.

Wanda moved closer, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder.

Wanda - You need to take care of yourself. This heat is dangerous. *frowns*

But Y/N, ever the stubborn teenager, shook her head. 

Y/N - I can handle it. Let's finish this.

Natasha sighed, sharing a worried glance with Wanda. They pressed on, but it wasn't long before Y/N's movements became more laboured. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and her breaths were audible over the comms.

Wanda - We need to get her out of here.

The Scarlet Witch urged, her concern deepening.

Natasha grabbed Y/N's arm. 

Natasha - Come on, baby. We're calling it a day.

Y/N resisted. 

Y/N - No, I can't let them—

Wanda cut in, her voice firm. 

Wanda - Your health is more important. The mission can wait.

Reluctantly, Y/N allowed herself to be guided away from the edge of the building. The trio found a shaded spot, but Y/N was insistent on finishing the mission even if she was already swaying slightly.

Y/N - I just need a moment... 

Natasha - You need more than a moment. You need water and rest. *crosses her arms*

Y/N's stubbornness flared, and she pushed herself up. 

Y/N - I can't let them get away. I can—

Her words were slurred, and her vision blurred. The next thing she knew, she was on her knees, the world spinning around her. Wanda and Natasha exchanged alarmed glances.

Wanda - Y/N! 

Wanda cried out, rushing to her side.

Natasha activated her comm. 

Natasha - We need an evac. Now.

Y/N tried to push herself up, but her limbs felt like lead. The last thing she heard before darkness claimed her was Wanda's worried voice calling her name.

______________________________________________________________

When Y/N opened her eyes, the world was a blur of white. She blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The low hum of the quinjet's engines filled the air. She was lying on one of the benches, and her suit had been partially removed.

Y/N - Wanda? Natasha?

She croaked.

The two women appeared at her side, relief was evident in their eyes. 

Natasha - You fainted detka, heatstroke.

Explained the Black Widow, her voice a mix of sternness and concern.

Y/N groaned, remembering the mission. 

Y/N - Did we catch them?

Wanda smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N's face. 

Wanda - Yes, we did. But you scared us. You need to take better care of yourself, honey.

Y/N mumbled an apology, attempting to sit up. Natasha pressed her back down as she spoke firmly about their order. 

Natasha - Rest, we'll be back at headquarters soon.

Wanda held a bottle of water to Y/N's lips, urging her to drink. The cool liquid was a balm for her parched throat. As Y/N sipped the water, Natasha began removing the rest of her suit to help her cool down.

Y/N - I can do that myself. 

Protested the youngest weakly. 

Wanda - You're in no condition to argue, my dear. *chuckles*

They worked efficiently, and the atmosphere was a mix of professionalism and genuine concern. Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the two women who had become her teammates and, in many ways, her surrogate family and mothers, in their own way.

Once out of the stifling suit, Y/N felt a wave of relief. The cool air of the quinjet was a welcome contrast to the oppressive heat outside. Wanda conjured a soft breeze, further easing Y/N's discomfort.

Natasha - You scared us back there, sweetheart. 

Natasha admitted, her eyes intense.

Y/N - I'm sorry. I just wanted to finish the mission. *sighs*

Wanda placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder. 

Wanda - There will always be another mission. But you only have one health and body for us to kiss, hug and give tickles. Don't jeopardize it for the sake of a mission. *tickles Y/N*

Y/N - Stopp- *giggling*

Natasha - Let her rest Wanda. It's okay lovebug *kisses forehead*

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the hum of the quinjet providing a backdrop to their thoughts. Y/N closed her eyes, allowing herself to rest, knowing that she was in capable hands.

As the quinjet touched down at headquarters, Natasha and Wanda helped Y/N to her feet. She felt a little unsteady, but the support from her motherly teammates kept her upright.

Natasha - Promise us you'll take better care of yourself, babygirl. 

Natasha said with her tone meaning business.

Y/N nodded, a genuine smile playing on her lips. 

Y/N -  I promise, moms.

Wanda grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

Wanda - And if you don't, we might have to resort to more drastic measures. 

Y/N - Like what? *raises an eyebrow*

Wanda and Natasha exchanged a knowing look before simultaneously saying: Mama bear's voice, the head-tilt and the raised eyebrow.

Y/N burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the quinjet. As they exited the aircraft, a trio of superheroes ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the bonds forged not just in battle but in the quiet moments of care and concern.

[passionwillow]

I’m Not Going Anywhere

Thank you @dominiquelucalover for this idea! I love me some angsty fluff and smut. ♥️

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut. 18+. Age gap.

- The only thing Hicks had told you was someone was injured on the job. Not who, not how bad, just that it wasn’t good.

- You’d stopped into HQ to drop off some lunch for Deacon, but you weren’t surprised that the team was out. It happened more often than not.

- You ran into Hicks on the way to the break room, and he’d told you then about the incident. He wouldn’t tell you who, what happened, just to stay put and wait.

- You sat on the bench by the boxing ring, hands trembling and knees bouncing at you waited. The panic was a vice around your chest, the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

- The thought of Deacon out there hurt, never getting to see him or touch him or kiss him again.. It was too much to even think about.

- You weren’t sure how long you were there, chewing at your nails and biting at your lip before 20-David came down the hallway.

- You stood up so fast your head spun, your eyes searching them. There was Hondo, Street and Luca, Chris-.. Deacon.

- His eyes found yours and he wasted no time running to you. Your face crumbled as your hands reached for him, and you threw yourself at him as a sob broke through you.

- His arms held around your waist, hugging you tight and speaking soft and soothing, a hand cupping the back of your head.

- “It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m here. I’m here, baby, it’s okay.”

- The team dispersed to give you space, but you wouldn’t have noticed them anyway. Your sobs quieted, but Deacon didn’t let you go. His eyes were closed, his nose buried in your hair.

- You took in the sound of his breathing, his heart beat, the smell of him.. Alive. He was alive and okay.

- You eventually pulled back and looked at him, his brown eyes soft as he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears, resting his forehead on yours. “It’s alright. I’m all good, baby.. It was Tan.”

- Your brows furrowed in concern, and Deac pulled you to his side, walking with you down the hallway as he explained. That Tan had been shot and rushed off in an ambulance, him and the team having to stay behind to answer questions.

- He left you outside the locker room, promising to be quick as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and dipped inside. Your arms wrapped around yourself as you waited, having him gone from your side this short period of time already worrisome.

- He must have changed at the speed of lightening, because he was out the door and taking your hand in no time. He led you out to the car and opened the door for you, promising Street and Chris would bring your car home. He knew you wouldn’t leave his side.

- The drive home was quiet, his hand a constant, soothing pressure in your leg as he drove. You kept a hand over his, eyes drifting over to him the entire drive.

- He parked the car and grabbed his bag, getting out and coming around to your door, helping you out and pecking your cheek before leading you inside.

- You wish you could calm down about the whole thing, but for some reason getting home with him after all the worrying, seeing him safe, brought more tears to your eyes.

- Deac had been through this kind of thing before, with Annie. The worry, the fear. It never quite left, she just grew used to it. But this was all new to you, and he felt terrible.

- He set his bag down and drew you closer, guiding your arms around his middle before hugging you to his chest, hand cradling your head and voice soothing you. “Shh.. It’s alright, baby, I’m right here.. I’m sorry I scared you today.”

- You shook your head and sniffed, hands gripping tight to his shirt as you whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m-.. Blubbering like a baby. This is just how your job is.”

- “That doesn’t mean you can’t worry.” He pulled back and looked down at you, hand moving to your cheek. “You probably think I’m ridiculous.” You whispered, leaning into his touch. He firmly shook his head and leaned into, pressing his lips to yours.

- Deacon knew you had concerns about the age gap between you both. He knew you had fears of being younger, more “emotional”, and that you’d upset him with it. But quite frankly, Deacon didn’t even notice, nor care. You were younger, sure, but just as invested in this relationship. And sometime he had the impression Annie couldn’t have cared less if he came home, those last few months of his marriage. The love you had for him written all over your face.. It healed him.

- You kissed back softly and slowly melted into him, his scruffy kiss calming your pounding heart. His hands slid over your lower back and gently pulled you in closer.

- You heard a faint thud as he nudged off his shoes and you did the same. The extra height that they gave you was gone and you stood even shorter now, and you could feel Deacons smile as he dipped down to you.

- Your hands ran up over his chest and torso, feeling the chiseled muscle before they dipped lower, hands going under the hem and desperatly roaming over his bare skin. The warmth, the familiar dips and curves of his body.. It was all a comfort.

- You didn’t miss how his body arched into your touch, or the goosebumps that rose on his skin. He lifted his arms and let you push the fabric of his shirt up, breaking the kiss so he could pull it off the rest of the way.

- His breathing was heavy and uneven, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked at you. He let the fabric fall where he stood before gently grabbing your blouse, fingers working with unnatural speed as he undid the buttons.

- His eyes never left yours as he pushed the shirt over your shoulders. He simply pulled you back to him and moaned against your lips as your bare skin met his.

- Your soft whimpers and whines made his cock harden in his jeans, and it wasn’t long before he was guiding you up the stairs, clothes being lost along the way. Both of you stumbling and tripping as he laughed softly, your answering grin making his heart sing.

- By the time you hit the bed, both of you were naked. Deacon crawled over you and instantly pressed his lips back to yours, his hands soft and featherlight as he let them roam over your body.

- Deacon was usually rougher in bed, which suited you just fine. But something was different tonight. His kisses were soft and soothing, his hands gentle as they caressed every curve of your body, grabbing and squeezing gently at your hips and thighs.

- Your breathing hitched in your throat as you felt his hand slip between your thighs, fingers trailing through the wetness of your slit before finding your clit and rubbing slow circles. Your answering moan made him smile and he gazed down into your eyes, his usual primal gaze soft and loving.

- He pressed his forehead to yours and glanced down at your parted lips, eyes and ears eating up every movement and sound from you. “That’s it, baby, relax.. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always try my damndest to come home to you and the kids.”

- Your eyes never left his as he spoke, a blush creeping over your cheeks at his promise. You swallowed hard and nodded, legs spreading as you felt a finger dip into you, a whimper slipping out. “I love you, David.”

- The words couldn’t have been more than a whisper, but his answering smile and mumbled “I love you.” Made your heart beat quicker.

- He took his time with you that night, every moment gentle and emphasized with affection. His fingers and mouth devoured you for what felt like hours. You tried to get your mouth on him but he gently pushed back down into the bed and promised you next time.

- His thrusts were so slow, so gentle, you could have melted right there into the sheets. He held you to him the entire time, hand on your thigh, then your cheek as your leg tightened around his hips.

- His lips never seemed to leave your skin. Your cheek, jaw, neck, chest, anywhere he could reach. He was kissing and marking you, leaving you reminders that he adored you.

- Deacon was never shy about being vocal, but tonight he seemed even louder. His grunts, groans, raspy moans of pleasure drove you insane. Your toes curled every time he thrust into you and a deep grunt sounded in your ear.

- His back was a mess of scratches and nail marks that he’d admire in the morning, no doubt. The first time you ever had sex with him, you were embarrassed and apologized profusely for the mess on his back. He simply grinned and silenced you with a kiss.

- Your orgasm built so slow and steady, you didn’t notice it until it was right there. You were so focused on him, feeling him inside you and pressed into you, you practically cried in pleasure. It was more intense than any other you’d had with him.

- You was cumming only a moment after you, and his cursing and moaning in your ear told you he felt the same. The hot spurts filling you made your toes curl, and when he collapsed half on top of you, you wrapped yourself around him, savoring the feeling.

- He was still nestled inside you, his cum slowly leaking out between your legs, when he finally moved. Pulling out oh so gently before laying beside you, gently tugging you into his chest and covering you both up.

- He’d always been a gentleman and cleaned you up first, but tonight he knew you needed to be held. The mess could wait.

- You nestled your head on his chest and closed your eyes, his steady heartbeat in your ear soothing. His hand stroked gently through your hair, his kisses on your forehead making you smile.

- “Thank you..” you whispered softly. You felt his answering smile in your hair, but he shook his head as his fingertips trailed down your back. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.”

- You were almost asleep when his phone went off from somewhere in the hallway. It was still in his pocket when you both made your way up here, stumbling out of your clothes.

- He cursed softly and gently moved you, steps soft and quiet as he grabbed his phone and returned to you. He slipped right back under you and held you close, free hand checking his phone as you watched with sleepy eyes.

- “Tan is gonna be just fine.” The relief in his voice was obvious, and you smiled wide, leaning up and kissing his scruffy cheek.

- He set his phone on the night stand and adjusted the blankets before hugging you close, both of you relaxing and falling asleep in no time.

[little-diable]

Merry Christmas, pet - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

It’s close to Christmas so I decided to let these two celebrate in the best way possible. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader visits Priest Riddle on Christmas morning to properly celebrate

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, religious connotations, public/in a church

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (1k words)

The sound of her boots meeting the snow covered ground filled the air, focusing on the crunching snow. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself as the wind picked up, letting snowflakes rest on her cold cheeks while she moved closer towards the church.

A sigh of relief left her as she stepped into the warm church, shaking off the snow lingering on her before calling out his name. The scent of incense and burning candles guided her closer, wrapping itself around (y/n).

“Priest Riddle?” She called out again, placing down her coat and bag on one of the benches. It didn’t take him long to appear, stepping into the room with a soft smile lingering on his lips, eyes moving up and down her frame.

“Merry Christmas, (y/n). What brings you here?” He came to a halt in front of her, letting the scent of his cologne clash against her, high on the smell. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her bag, pulling free the box of cookies she had baked for him late at night.

“I wanted to bring you this, a small Christmas gift.” An unfamiliar softness swam in his pupils, leaving her to grin in excitement. The two of them had a strange relationship, tiptoeing along the edge whenever they were alone. He was corrupting her, and yet she didn’t back down, enjoying the way the priest toyed with her.

“How sweet of you, (y/n). But you could have waited until our evening mass.” He placed the box down before turning back to her, hands finding her waist to pull her flush against him. (Y/n)’s hands automatically found his chest, palms pressed flat against his black dress shirt while her eyes flickered between his white collar and his dangerous eyes. She could only wonder if the snake slithering through Eden looked like him, charming, set on fooling those who didn’t see through his game.

“I didn’t want to wait that long, wanted to see you much sooner.” The raspy chuckle leaving him made heat pool in her stomach, forcing her thighs to press together while he tightened his grip on her. Priest Riddle’s thumbs stroked along the fabric of her dress, enjoying the way her breath hitched in her chest like it always did when he touched her.

“Such an impatient girl. What should I do with you, huh?” One of his hands found her chin, holding it with an iron grip while his lips found hers. The relieved sigh rumbling through (y/n) only pushed him closer, deepening the kiss. Priest Riddle turned them around, sinking down on the wooden bench to pull her into his lap, spreading her thighs for his wandering hands.

It didn’t take long for him to rip her tights, brushing his fingertips over the soaked fabric of her panties. Her moans filled the empty church, echoing off the high walls that seemed to stare down on them with judging eyes. (Y/n) pressed herself further against his fingers, hoping that he would switch to his cock rather soon.

“What do you wish for, (y/n)? Tell me.” She fumbled with his belt, hoping that he’d understand what she wanted from him. But the man didn’t give in, waiting for her to speak up. She freed his hard cock first, wrapping her nimble fingers around him before finding her voice.

“I want you to fuck me, Priest Riddle. That’s all I want.” He hummed in agreement, allowing her to pump him a few times before she positioned herself over his cock. Their eyes held contact as she sank down on him, groaning at the feeling of him perfectly filling her.

A sound so sinful not even the devil could have created it left them in unison, guiding them as she moved on top of him. Almost absentmindedly her hand found the cross dangling from his neck, similar to the one dangling over the altar behind (y/n), staring down on the priest who had corrupted a once sweet girl.

“Atta girl, look at you, such a perfect pet for your priest.“ The moan leaving (y/n) made him chuckle, sinking further into the bench with his hands tightly supporting her. Her teeth had a tight grasp on her lower lip, close to drawing blood as red as the blood that had clung to the saviour's body, a river of thick substances mixing together as death and life fought for the upper hand.

“Hold on.” Her dazy mind struggled to pick up on the command, arms finding their way around his neck. Priest Riddle carried her towards the altar, setting her down on it without pulling out of her. (Y/n) trembled as she clung to him, arms and legs wrapped around the tall man who now fucked her with ferocious thrusts.

“Oh god, you’re so big.” She could feel him deep inside of her, hitting all the right spots with every thrust. No shame clung to them, all too used to giving in to their lust within these holy halls, spurred on by the sinful thrill. His ringed hand held onto her throat, thumb running over her jaw to pull her in for a teeth-clashing kiss.

Her walls fluttered around his cock, knowing that she was about to fall over the edge with a call of his name. Priest Riddle parted from (y/n)’s lips to stare down on her, enjoying the sight of her pleasure-drunken features all too much. The adrenaline thumping through their veins began to spiral, forcing them into a new dimension as they came at the same time.

The priest imprinted himself on her walls while she sobbed his name, clinging to him as if he was the only one she could trust and seek guidance from. Neither of them let go as they tried to catch their breaths, eyes holding contact.

“Merry Christmas, pet.”

[moonlight-joy]

The Breaking Point

Fandom: Yellowstone

Summury: In a heated confrontation with Jaime, your anger boils over into a raw, cutting declaration, but Rip’s steady presence grounds you, offering solace and strength as you begin to confront the pain of betrayal and loss on the Yellowstone Ranch.

Pairing: Reader/Rip Wheeler

The air at Yellowstone Ranch was heavy, the kind of weight that pressed against your chest and made it hard to breathe. The golden light of the setting sun seemed to mock the darkness that had taken root inside you. Every step you took out of the main house felt like dragging a boulder behind you, your emotions a volatile mix of anger, grief, and betrayal.

You hadn’t planned to confront Jaime, but when he followed you out onto the porch, his self-assured expression pushing the last of your frayed patience, it became unavoidable.

“What do you want, Jaime?” you snapped, spinning around to face him. Your voice cracked with the effort of holding everything in, and you felt your nails biting into your palms.

“I just want to talk,” he said, raising his hands defensively, as if you were the one in the wrong.

The audacity of his calm tone made your blood boil. “Talk? About what? How you’ve screwed over this family more times than I can count? Or maybe how you can stand there and pretend like you give a damn about any of us?”

Jaime hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find the right words. “I’ve made mistakes, I know that,” he said finally, his voice faltering.

“Mistakes?” you scoffed, taking a step closer to him. “Mistakes don’t destroy lives, Jaime. What you’ve done—what you’ve been complicit in—those weren’t mistakes. Those were choices.”

Your voice rose with each word, and you felt the anger bubbling over, threatening to consume you completely. Jaime took a small step back, but his retreat only fueled the fire inside you.

“You should’ve died in Lee’s place!” The words exploded out of you before you could stop them, sharp and cutting. The moment they were out, you felt the weight of them crash down on you, but there was no taking them back.

Jaime flinched as though you’d physically struck him. His face paled, and his eyes widened in shock. For a moment, he looked like he might say something, but he stayed silent, his mouth pressing into a tight line. The quiet only made your words hang heavier in the air.

Rip Wheeler was at your side before you even realized he’d been watching. His hand gripped your arm firmly, his touch grounding you as the storm inside you raged on.

“Hey,” Rip said, his voice low and steady, cutting through the haze of your anger. “That’s enough.”

You turned to him, your body trembling with adrenaline. “Let go of me, Rip,” you demanded, though your voice lacked its usual force.

“No,” Rip said firmly, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Not until you calm down.”

The heat of his gaze, steady and unyielding, made you falter. Rip wasn’t just trying to stop you—he was trying to save you from yourself. Still, the fire inside you hadn’t completely burned out.

“I can’t believe him,” you said, your voice trembling as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You turned back toward Jaime, who was still standing on the porch like a statue. “How can you stand there like this doesn’t matter? Like none of this ever mattered?”

“Go inside, Jaime,” Rip said, his voice dropping into a growl. The warning in his tone was enough to snap Jaime out of his stupor. He glanced at you one last time, his expression unreadable, before retreating into the house without a word.

When the door shut behind him, you felt your legs give out, the adrenaline draining from your body as quickly as it had come. Rip caught you before you could collapse completely, guiding you over to a wooden bench by the barn. He sat down beside you, his arm still around your shoulders, holding you steady as the weight of everything crashed down.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Rip didn’t answer right away. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, and handed it to you without a word. You took it, wiping at the tears that had started to fall. It was only when your breathing steadied that he finally spoke.

“You said what you needed to say,” Rip said, his tone calm but firm. “Doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard to hear.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the understanding in his eyes. “But I meant it, Rip. I meant every word.”

“I know,” he said simply. “And he knows it, too. Doesn’t mean you have to let it eat you alive.”

“How am I supposed to move past it?” you asked, your voice cracking. “After everything he’s done... after Lee—”

Rip’s hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, his touch solid and grounding. “You don’t forget,” he said softly. “But you don’t let it own you either. You’ve got too much fight in you for that.”

His words broke something in you, and the tears came harder now, silent but steady. Rip didn’t say anything else. He just held you, his presence a quiet reassurance in the midst of your turmoil.

As the sky darkened and the first stars began to appear, you finally found the strength to pull back slightly. “Thanks,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse.

Rip gave you a small, crooked smile, his hand moving to rest against your back. “Always.”

In the silence that followed, the weight on your chest began to ease, just a little. Jaime’s betrayal still lingered, and the wound it had left would take time to heal. But with Rip by your side, steady and unyielding, you knew you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

The sound of crickets filled the air as the ranch settled into the quiet of the night. Rip leaned back on the bench, his arm still around you, and you let yourself rest against him, the warmth of his presence a small comfort in the face of everything that had been said and done.

For the first time that day, you felt like you could breathe again.

Please support my work with like and comment

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 15

Day Fourteen | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Sixteen

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked

Warnings: Free use; semi-public sex; oral sex; fingering; unsafe sex; creampie

GIF by chelseasdagger

"I need you to keep quiet for me.” 

The insistence was chased by the press of his gloved fingers between your slack lips. You bit down, savoring the slip of the leather between your teeth as Leto thrust deeper into you. He pressed his face into your neck, struggling to quiet his hypocritical grunts. 

You could hear the clicking of heels echoing further down the hall, and you fought the urge to turn and see if anyone was nearing. You knew that the Duke’s trusted warmaster was nearby, shooting imposing looks at anyone who dared inch just a little too close to your clandestine meeting place. 

Leto had made the request earlier in the week, and while it had initially struck you as odd, he had explained:

"With preparations for the emperor's official order, I'll have several meetings, and little time." He had eyed you sincerely from beneath his heavy brow. "I'll need you at a moment's notice, if you consent."

You hadn't had to think twice.

In the past week, Leto had taken you in so many ways, in so many unexpected and, frankly, often inappropriate places. His office, the barracks, the orchards, in the tall grass by the beach. If he had a single moment, he sent for you.

You'd been given just as little lead time that afternoon. Gurney had handed you a slip of paper, and you'd recognized Leto's handwriting immediately. There hadn’t been any instructions, simply a place to meet. The alcove was familiar to you—one of the few places in Caladan Castle that had relatively low foot traffic. Leto often found you there, reading or gathering your thoughts. It had become a frequent haunt of his as he sought your council, or simply sought a quiet moment with you. You’d shared your first kiss there, and several other confidences and intimacies had followed. 

This was, however, a relatively new intimacy for so calm a meeting place.

Now, Leto pushed your thigh up, pressing your back more harshly against the cool wall as you slotted your foot up against the bench beside you. You slipped your tongue along the worn leather of his gloves, whining softly as Leto’s pace became more frantic. You tipped your head back against the wall, letting his fingers slip from your lips. 

“Quickly,” You whispered, “You’ve a meeting with Hawat soon.” 

Leto grasped your jaw, using his grip to force you to meet his gaze.

“Thufir serves at my pleasure,” Leto gritted out, “I serve at yours.” 

You choked back a whimper as he suddenly drew away. He pressed his hand to your thigh, keeping your legs spread wide as he lowered himself to his knees. He sucked your clit between his lips, flicking over the tender nub with almost punishing strokes. You sucked in stunned breath as you fisted your hand in his curls, hips rolling down against the stroke of his tongue and the brush of his beard. He slid his hand up, fingers brushing across your slick opening. The added bulk of the gloves pressing into you nearly made your knees buckle. As good as it felt, it wasn't enough. You reached down, pushing Leto's hand away before lowering yourself to the floor with him.

You straddled his lap, sinking onto his cock again, watching the flutter of his lashes as his eyes slid closed. You let him grip your hips, guiding your movements as he drove up into you. You grasped his hair, tugging it and nodding hurriedly as your orgasm swelled. Leto growled as you tightened up around him, his hips snapping against yours with such force that your breath caught in your throat. It was only a few moments before his hips pulsed, then slowed as he spilled into you.

You opened your eyes as Leto rested his forehead against yours. You raised your hands to gently cup his face, thumbs brushing the flushed apples of his cheeks. He tipped his head from one side to the other, and you smiled as the tip of his nose brushed yours. 

“May I see you tonight?” He murmured. You couldn’t help the bashful smile that grew on your lips. The man had a planet to govern, an army to command, an emperor to appease—but he still requested your time where he would be within every right to demand it. 

“Of course,” You nodded. You gently smoothed Leto’s hair back and pressed a tender kiss to his lips before you stood on shaky legs, holding a hand out to him. He grasped it gratefully, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go. You straightened your dress, stalwartly ignoring the throbbing between your thighs as you watched Leto put himself back together, pulling up his pants and fixing the fastenings.

You watched him draw his shoulders tight and tip his chin up, as if slipping on some mask to play a part. You reached out, gently swiping away a bit of dust from the sleeve of his jacket. He caught hold of your hand before you could draw away entirely, raising it and pressing a courteous kiss to your wrist. Then he left without another word. You sighed softly, lowering yourself onto the bench as you listened to the retreating thud of his boots.

--

"Should I ask how your day was?"

Leto chuckled softly at your careful hedging. Neither of you had spoken since he'd arrived at your bedroom and settled down with you. You'd simply sat there and waited, watching the day's tensions slowly drain from his body.

He shook his head slowly, tipping it from side to side where it rested atop your outstretched thighs.

"I'd rather you didn't," He admitted.

"Alright."

You reached down, smoothing your hand over his hair before gently tracing the line of his forehead, and over his nose. As you reached his lips, Leto puckered them, pressing a soft kiss to your fingertip. Your smile widened as he turned his head to look at you.

"And you?" He pressed softly. "How was your day?"

You feigned consideration, humming as you directed your eyes toward the ceiling.

"Nothing much to report."

"Nothing at all?"

"No, no. Very routine."

Lowering your gaze to Leto's, you found him smiling playfully, eyes sparkling with a light that you'd hardly seen in the past week.

"Routine," He repeated, pushing himself and sliding his hand up your leg, easing up the fabric of your nightdress as he did.

"Quite."

"I think we can do better than that."

You shrieked with delight as Leto pounced over you, pressing you back onto the bed. Leto caught your lips in a kiss, the brush of his beard making your skin tingle. His fingers slipped between your thighs, brushing across your cunt. You pressed into the touch as you'd wanted to hours ago, sighing softly as his tongue plied gently between your lips. He drew away as the kiss broke, his hand settling against your thigh again to focus you. You opened your eyes as confusion washed over you and found Leto watching you with a gentle reverence.

"I know that I can be...Demanding," He offered, "But I have greatly appreciated your attentions over these past few days."

Your smile softened as you reached up, sweeping your knuckles across his cheekbone.

"I'll always come when you call."

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[ataliagold]

He Loves My Heart Shaped Sunglasses

For @astrangersummer week 11 prompt 'sunglasses.' Title from Every Man Has His Wish by Lana Del Ray.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: G

W/C: 939

Tags: Established Steddie, Steve has migraines, comfort, fluff, Eddie takes care of Steve, summer, Steve and Robin are soulmates

Summary: Steve's at a barbeque with his friends when he's hit with the painful consequences of too much sun.

___

Steve dreads summer, sometimes.

While there are parts of it he loves – long days by the pool with Robin and Eddie, the light hanging around for longer in the evenings but softer than the harsh light of midday, the kids biking everywhere so he didn’t have to chauffeur them around every damn day – he also hates other aspects of it.

The heat, for example, when it rises above pleasant into just uncomfortable and makes his head start to throb.

The noise of kids shrieking, of dogs barking at the park, of grills sizzling and music blasting from somewhere in the neighbourhood as everyone seemed to take advantage of the warmer weather all at once – it all added to the pain building behind his eyes.

But it was the bright sunlight that caused him the most grief sometimes, that made him squint and wince until pain lanced in his skull. Sunglasses helped a bit but he’d left them behind today - had only realized when he’d been most of the way here and he hadn’t wanted to turn around, hadn’t wanted to be late and worry Eddie because he could get through one damn day without them, right?

Now, he’s leant over the bench in the Munsons’ new and improved trailer, trying to let the coolness of the surface leach into his skin. He’s tempted to press his face to it too, try to stop the migraine building behind his eyes in its tracks.

He knows it won’t work.

Gripping the edge of the bench tight enough to make his fingers ache, he grinds his teeth, frustrated. Up until this point he’d been ok, had really thought he was going to get through this day without a migraine, but the temperature had climbed steadily after noon and that had been it.

Wayne’s grilling outside. Hopper is out there, the Byers and Max too, Eddie and Robin sipping drinks, the latter fanning herself with a book. Steve wishes he were out there too, wishes he could just sit outside and enjoy the summer without being crippled by the agony in his head again.

Footsteps behind him.

A warm hand on his waist, thumb slipping up under his t shirt and brushing over his hip.

“Sweetheart, you ok?” Eddie murmurs, and Steve huffs softly in response.

“Head hurts,” he manages, squeezing his eyes shut.

Eddie kisses the back of his neck gently. “You wanna lie down for a bit?” he whispers.

“No,” Steve grumbles, because he wants to be with his friends, wants to enjoy the day like everyone else.

Eddie waits, hums softly.

Steve caves. “Yes,” he mutters.

“Come on.” Eddie takes his hand, leads him down the narrow hallway into the bedroom that smelt vaguely of cigarette smoke and weed and Eddie.

Steve flops onto the bed, burrows immediately into familiar pillows, lets Eddie slip his shoes off and maneuver the t shirt from his back.

“I’ll be back,” he says, brushing gentle fingertips down Steve’s back before padding out of the room.

When he returns, it’s with water and the meds Steve always kept at the trailer, helping Steve swallow them down before tugging the curtain closed.

Steve sleeps for a short time, head throbbing dully when the painkillers blissfully kick in. He awakes feeling a little better, the migraine having been nipped in the bud before it could reach its peak.

He pads back down the hallway, rubbing at bleary eyes, heading towards the sound of soft laughter outside. The voices fall a little quieter when he steps sheepishly out the door, Eddie standing to guide him carefully to a chair.

“Sorry guys,” Steve croaks as he takes a seat.

Wayne waves his tongs in the air. “No problem, son. There’s plenty of food left over, you want somethin’? I can heat it back up for ya.”

Steve considers for a moment, judges the state of his still slightly-nauseous gut, and shakes his head. “Maybe in a little bit?” he settles on.

Robin’s sprawled out on the porch next to Max’s chair, and she smiles dopily at Steve.

“Dingus!” she slurs, and Steve shoots Eddie a side-eyed look. His boyfriend grins back at him.

Yeah, Robin’s a little drunk.

“Hey Robs,” Steve replies, giving her a tiny wave.

“Where’s your sunglasses?” Robin sits up, blinking slowly at him.

“Left them at home.”

She scuttles to her feet. “Borrow mine!” she announces, taking them off her head.

“Oh, that’s ok,” Steve says quickly, taking in the sight of the sunglasses now in her hand, the bold cherry-red heart-shaped frames surrounding large lenses. “You might need them.”

Robin scoffs. “Not as much as you. Take them.”

She holds them out, wiggling her hand at him.

“It’s fine, Robs.”

Robin slaps them into his hand firmly. “Take them.”

Steve swallows. Not one to argue with his tipsy and determined soulmate, Steve sighs and puts the sunglasses on.

Max erupts into laughter; even with her reduced eyesight she can’t miss the brightly-coloured accessory. Robin rounds on her, hissing something, but the seriousness is taken out of her words by the way she stumbles back to her seat again.

At least they were helping to reduce the light, Steve figures, leaning back in his chair and letting his eyes slip shut again. The warmth on his shoulders was nice, the conversation starting back up around him but at a low level, everyone present keeping their voices down for his sake.

Eddie scooches closer to him. Steve cracks an eye open, glancing at him.

___

“Like what you see?” he murmurs.

Eddie cackles, leans in close, and plants a kiss on his cheek. “Always, Stevie.”

[wholoveseggs]

Yoooo!! I don’t even have like… a big idea for this so sorry, butttt maybe just anything showcasing a nice domestic life with elijah? Fluff, angst, smut, anything you want!

Piano Lessons

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You come home after a long day at work and Elijah helps you unwind with a song.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon and the lovely @msveronicag for giving me the piano sex idea! ♡♡

2.4k words - Warnings: smuttt, Elijah playing the piano, oral sex, blowjobs, silly musical references, this was just an excuse for me to thirst over piano Elijah (the lighting, the white shirt, that face!!! so hot... its ridiculous)

You arrived home from work, rushing through the rain to get inside. The sound of it pattering against the windows as it was calming and the house was dark, save for the candles that were scattered around. For a moment you thought your husband was out, but then the sweet melody of the piano filled the air.

You made your way upstairs, leaning against the door frame as you watched Elijah. He was lost in the music, eyes closed and lips parted. He looked relaxed, his hair a little messed up, the top few buttons of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Elijah was an excellent musician. He knew how to play practically every instrument there was, but he was especially good at the piano. Sometimes he'd write a song just for you, one that expressed his love and devotion to you. It was how he charmed you when you first met, performing at a bar you were drinking at with some friends.

When he noticed you in the doorway, he stopped. "I didn't know you were home."

"I just got back," you said, walking over to him and leaning down to kiss him. He smiled and tugged you down to his lap, kissing you softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as his hand went to rest on your back.

"I hope your day wasn't too terrible," he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the small of your back.

"It wasn't bad. Just a little stressful, I'm glad to be home." You kissed him again, then rested your head on his shoulder.

He went back to playing, just a soft and simple tune now, one he knew well enough to play with his eyes closed. You watched the way his hands moved along the keys, how his long fingers moved and the veins and tendons stood out.

As he played, he slowly turned his head to look at you, catching your eye.

"Can you show me how to play?" You asked, sitting up and looking at the keys.

Elijah nodded, shifting on the bench and moving you between his legs. His hand gripped your waist and pulled you close so that your back was flush against his chest, his hands moving to cover yours.

"Your hands are much smaller than mine," he whispered, "so it will be more difficult to stretch to some of these notes, but we can try.”

"Now, these keys right here are the major notes. They are the basic ones you want to know for every song." He continued, placing your index finger on one of the keys and pushed it down, then guided your other fingers to play along with it.

He was patient with you, letting you practice the simple notes. Every once and a while, he would press a kiss to your shoulder or neck.

"Now, why don't we try something more advanced?" He whispered into your ear.

You nodded, turning your head to kiss him. You kept your eyes on him as your lips met, and when you broke apart, he smiled and pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

He brought one of your hands to the higher notes, his own hands guiding yours over the keys. You tried to focus on what he was teaching you, but you kept getting distracted. The way he breath ghosted against your neck, the way his lips grazed the shell of your ear, it was making you all warm and flustered.

He seemed to notice, because he started leaving more lingering kisses along your neck and shoulder, nipping at the skin and soothing the bites with his tongue.

"Elijah," you moaned, your hand dropping from the keys. He took them and guided them back to where they were, pressing the keys and making a pretty melody.

"Focus, sweetheart. You're doing great." His voice was low, and it was making you clench around nothing. "Try on your own," he said, letting go of your hands and resting his on your hips.

You tried to replicate the sound, but your mind was too hazy. His hands now free, they roamed over your body, pulling up the hem of your dress and stroking the smooth skin of your thighs. You gasped and closed your eyes, pressing the keys down a bit harder than you meant to.

He chuckled and slid his hands under your dress, running his fingers over the fabric of your panties. "I didn't say you could stop playing," he said, his voice firm.

"You are a terrible teacher, you know that?" You said, pressing down on the keys.

"Yes, but you enjoy it." He slipped his fingers under the waistband of your panties, and ran the pad of his index finger over your clit. You whimpered and pushed your hips into his hand, desperate for more.

He stopped moving his hand, nibbling on your earlobe. "Keep going. I know you can do it."

You continued to play, your hands trembling and your breaths coming out in soft pants. He began to move his hand again, his fingers barely brushing your sensitive bud. "You're doing so good for me," he praised.

You stopped playing, your hands gripping his thighs. He smiled against your neck, and pushed a finger inside of you.

"Fuck, Elijah," you moaned. He added a second finger, pumping them in and out of you in a firm, steady pace. Your legs were shaking and your knuckles were white as you clung to his knees.

"To play any instrument, you must have discipline. Focus." His words were punctuated by his fingers curling inside of you. "Keep playing."

Your hand reached out, finding the keys and pressing down on them. It wasn't so much music you were making, but a jumble of sounds. But Elijah was pleased nonetheless.

"Listen to the music you're making, my darling," he said, his breath hot on your ear. "That is your melody."

You could feel the coil inside of you getting tighter and tighter with each pass of his fingers. Elijah pressed a kiss to your neck and took his thumb, pressing it against your clit and rubbing circles.

Your hands crashed down on the keys, your legs shaking, and Elijah held you to him as he continued his pace, keeping you upright as you came around his fingers. You leaned back into him, panting, as you tried to catch your breath.

"You are a natural," he teased, pulling his hand out of you and resting it on your thigh, his mouth pressed to the skin of your neck.

You hummed and turned around so you were straddling him. You pulled him in for a kiss, nipping at his bottom lip as you unbuttoned his shirt, pushing the material off his shoulders and tossing it aside. You pulled off your dress and dropped it on the floor, your lips returning to his at once.

Elijah reached around and unclasped your bra, his fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin as he slipped the straps down your shoulders. He tossed it to the side and kissed your shoulder. His mouth trailed down, stopping at your breasts and giving each nipple attention. You ran your fingers through his hair, gently tugging him away and grinning down at him.

You pulled away from him, getting on your knees between him and the piano, and looked up at him through your eyelashes as your hand worked to undo his pants.

You ran your hand over his boxers, smiling when his hips bucked slightly. It was your turn to tease him now. You nuzzled his cock through the fabric and kissed the outline of it. You took the waistband between your teeth and tugged, freeing his cock. He groaned and closed his eyes, head falling back as you licked his length, kissing along his shaft.

"Will you play the song you were playing when we first met?" You asked, batting your eyelashes at him. He chuckled and nodded, positioning his hands over the keys, and began playing. You wrapped your fingers around his cock and pumped slowly, waiting until you heard the song pick up the slightest bit of speed to take him into your mouth.

He faltered a bit, the music not quite right, and you smiled to yourself as you swirled your tongue around him. You took him deeper and deeper each time you went down on him, your tongue massaging the underside of his cock.

He groaned, trying his best to keep up the song, but failing miserably. When it was just a jumble of notes, he gave up, taking a fistful of your hair in his hand as you bobbed on his cock.

You stopped moving, looking up at him and raising your eyebrow as if to challenge him to finish the song. He smiled and groaned, then returned to playing. The song was off and disjointed, but you could still tell what it was, he was truly talented. You hummed around his cock pushed him all the way into the back of your throat, causing him to moan and buck his hips up into you.

His movements became sloppy as he neared his climax, the melody not coming out as well. You relaxed your throat and sucked, pushing him over the edge. You swallowed every drop, keeping his cock in your mouth as he finished riding out his high.

He looked down at you with a satisfied grin, and pulled you to him. His thumb swiped along your bottom lip as you straddled him and he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss.

"How's my performance?" You asked with wide innocent eyes.

"Simply divine," he answered. "How was mine?"

"Terrible," you teased, leaning forward and kissing him. He chuckled into your mouth, hands gripping your hips and lifting you up onto the top of the piano, your feet landing on the keys. The sound made you laugh against his mouth, and he smiled. He pulled off your underwear, letting the fabric pool around your ankles, then he sat back down on the bench, pulling you to the edge.

"Spread your legs," he instructed. You obeyed, placing your feet on the keys again, the piano playing a discordant tune.

Elijah smiled, looking up at you from his seat between your thighs, his hands returning to the keys, playing a beautiful melody as he watched you squirm under his gaze.

You rested on your elbows and bit your lip. "Elijah, please."

"You are the perfect muse, my love." He pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then placed a few more kisses on your clit and you moaned.

You could feel the vibration of music under you, it felt strange and wonderful combined with Elijah's tongue, lapping at your clit, slow and leisurely. He was teasing you again and you were enjoying it immensely.

Elijah continued playing, and you started moving your hips, desperate for any sort of friction. You feet moved and the sound from the keys changed. The melody he was playing changed to match your own disjointed notes, a new song starting.

"Inspirational," he hummed, his eyes meeting yours as his tongue flicked against your clit. You whimpered and thrashed on top of the piano as his mouth explored every inch of your cunt.

“I never thought to combine my two favorite activities before," he said with a soft chuckle. You could tell he was smirking, he was proud of himself. You laughed and grabbed onto his hair, pulling him closer and grinding your hips against his mouth.

You felt your orgasm building, your legs started to shake and Elijah's tongue moved faster and faster. His fingers still playing a perfect tune on the keys.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and you fell over the edge, your thighs gripping his head. Your heel hitting the low notes as you shook, like a clap of thunder, while the music swelled to a crescendo.

Your orgasm finally subsided, and you collapsed on your back, gasping as you tried to catch your breath.

Elijah smiled at the sight and closed the cover over the keys, climbing up on top of the piano. He hovered over you and pressed a kiss to your lips. He smiled and rested his forehead against yours. "Now that's what I call an improvised concerto."

You giggled and rolled your eyes, kissing him again. He parted your legs with his knee, rubbing himself along your slit. You sighed into his mouth as he pushed in, slowly until his hips were flush against yours.

Elijah propped himself up on his elbows, one hand cushioning the back of your head and the other entwined with yours, pressing it into the cool wood as he began to thrust. He looked deep into your eyes, not breaking contact as he picked up his pace.

You wrapped your legs around him and ran your free hand down his back. He leaned down and kissed you again, the two of you panting into each other's mouths as he rocked into you.

You were still sensitive, and with each movement he made you moaned, each noise you made he swallowed into a kiss.

He changed the angle of his thrusts slightly and the head of his cock hit your sweet spot. You gasped and clenched around him as you neared another orgasm.

You could feel the tension in your stomach as he rocked his hips faster and faster. His pace became a bit sloppy, but he kept the same angle, and you fell over the edge.

Your toes curled and you arched your back off of the piano. Your free hand scratched down his back, leaving red marks. He kissed you to silence your moan, and you felt him spilling inside of you as your walls contracted around him.

His thrusts slowed, his cock sliding in and out of you as the both of you came down. He placed soft kisses on your face, the side of your head, your jaw. When you opened your eyes again he smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. He rolled onto his back and you curled up next to him. He held you close and ran his hand up and down your back as you listened to his steady heart.

"That was quite a lesson, you have a unique way of teaching," you teased, propping yourself up on your elbow to look down at him.

"I find it hard to believe you learned anything," he retorted with a grin, running his fingers over the swell of your hip.

"Maybe if we practice enough I'll start getting the hang of it," you replied, biting your lip.

"Practice does make perfect. Why don't we have another session?" He pulled you on top of him and you laughed, ready to be his muse once more.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds

[mx-pastelwriting]

Rick's Clean up (Rick's Mess Part 2)

Rick Sanchez x GN! Reader

Summary: Rick comes back for more in turn having to clean up another mess.

Warnings: Smut, Established Relationship, Blowjob. Rick Sub& Dub, Head pushing, Throat fucking, Cum eating

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

Minors do not interact!

Flipping through the galactic channels, finding nothing that catches your eye while feeling the buzz of the warm afternoon. Having spent the whole morning avoiding Rick, knowing what he'd do if caught, but having not seen him since yesterday's dinner after leaving him with a mess.

Sighing, putting down the remote, hearing the silence of the empty house since morning, hearing nothing from the garage, and not waking up with him in your shared room made curiosity nip away at you.

Standing outside the garage door still hearing nothing, with a soft light shining through the undercrack of the door. Reaching for the handle slowly opening it to face an empty garage, walking in seeing nothing is a miss of that you could tell. Unknowing what would happen next.

At the speed of light, Rick pushed you up to the small wall after he closed the door. Looking into his eyes, he stared with a mix of emotions: anger, desperation, lust. Taking it all in, hearing his rapped breaths with his heated body pressed up against yours. Not saying a thing, waiting for his next move, but not needing to say or do a thing, feeling something poking you, letting the dots connect quickly.

Seeing as you released, both watching each other fall into the moment, faces getting closer. Feeling Rick's lips smash into yours, though softened, trying to keep the desperation for you back. Again and again, making him burst from the seems just by touching you.

Guiding your hands down, earning a hum with the kiss roughening, undoing his belt, then pants, feeling your way under the fabric to his hardened cock. Taking it in your hand, stroking it firmly yet slowly, wanting him to feed the desperation.

Doing as you wanted, Rick moves the both of you over to his working bench, taking over sitting him back on the chair. Sitting him down, dropping to your knees, then placing his cock in your mouth before having time to object.

Wrapping your tongue all around sucking every inch of skin, hearing moans erupt from him. Feeling a hand placed over your head pushing down with his hips thrusting up. Fucking your throat, the garage fills with moans, and the wet skin of your throat being fucked.

"Fucking take it," he says, taking back his control, allowing it. You hum in response with one of your hands gripped to his thigh and the other on your body.

Pulling your head away, watching as he looks over your face, looking at his work. Smirking at it, he pushes you down again, making sure his balls hit your chin. Soon after feeling his knees start to buckle with his grip becoming looser, he cums, not it in your mouth having pulled away at the last second.

Hearing his broken moans, how they tired and filled with disappointment, but the familiar sweet sound of the front door opening again as you make your way up from the floor, Rick grabs you, looking into your eyes.

"Clean it up," he commands, making you smile, then giving his favorite look while licking and sucking up Rick's cum, not wasting a drop of his mess.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: Sign Up!

[filmtv2022]

The The Bitter End: Comfort (Extra Scene)

18+ MDNI

Series Masterlist

Synopsis: John and Y/N, share a heated moment alone. The pair find comfort in one another's arms.

Warning: Spice/Smut + alcohol

A/N: Here we go again with another extra scene for To The Bitter End! I hope you all enjoy it and as always... I apologize for any mistakes.

The dense cloak of night had settled into every corner of the worn home filling in the gaps and leaving behind a muted silence. It seemed to inhabit the space as a stalwart tenant, immovable and proud yet unable to comprehend the passing of time. Ripped from the trap of restless sleep, the heavy sound of your ragged breathing was rough through the cotton sheets curled below your chin. Perspiration had collected in a heavy sheen across the expanse of your exposed skin, sticking your threadbare nightgown to your body. Returning to sleep was a lost cause. The only choices were to lay awake contemplating the very worries that plagued your dreams or to return to the nightly routine that had become your escape from it all during the previous weeks.

The decision was easy. Pulling back the covers, goosebumps ran wild over your arms and legs. The blind search for your housecoat came to a quick conclusion as the supple texture was easy to find even in the pervasive darkness that shrouded the room. You wrapped it tightly around your body, tying the belt in a sturdy knot at your hip. The only light that seeped between the curtains was that of the moon beyond the windows. A cloudless night meant the silvery haze was strong enough to guide your steps into the hall. Forgoing slippers, you focused on the rough grain of the ancient hardwood beneath your bare feet. The slow ambling journey away from the bedroom was made by memory as you tracked the path away from your nightmares and into the arms of the person who soothed your soul.

A soft glow illuminated the area around the piano, and basking in it sat John. His lithe frame moved gracefully with the music he played from memory. Lost in the melody, it appeared as though your arrival went entirely unnoticed. It was from your vantage point at the bottom of the stairs that you watched in awe of the sheer talent and passion that emanated from him. His face was slack and tender, free of the worry that often knit his brows together. The only sign of struggle that remained was the stained and tattered handkerchief which sat perched near his glass of whiskey atop the piano.

John’s shoulders tensed in a fight against the shallow cough that took control of his body. This had you moving toward him, seeking to comfort and be comforted. His focus remained fixed on the keys, but the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he heard you approach. The soft pad of your steps blended with the rhythm of the music before coming to rest behind him. Out of need and instinct, you reached for him. Your hands came to rest on his shoulders as he greeted you gently, “Hello, darlin’ ”

“Hello, my loving man.” Working your thumbs into the vicious knots along his back, you dipped to press a kiss to his cheek. It was warm, flush with the ever-present fever that accompanied his ailment, “How are you feeling, John?”

“I’m right as the rain.” He continued to play even as his lungs spasmed once again.

“That’s good,” letting your hands wander to his chest, you brought your lips to the broad column of his neck. The gentle caress of your whisper against the shell of his ear was distracting beyond measure causing him to fumble in the music, “It’s my turn.”

“Of course,” John lifted his hands from the keys to find you. The steady balance of his grip guided you to sit on the bench in front of him. With feather-light strokes, you ran your fingertips over the ivories. Doc took advantage of this and allowed himself to drift aimless touches over your body. He mapped every curve and valley paying close attention to tender spots that needed caring for, and the way you reciprocated his movements. Finally, you began to play, and he recognized the song immediately, Chopin’s Nocturn No. 19. It was the same one you’d heard him play the first night you met, and hearing you skillfully navigate it filled the hallow depths of his soul.

He let you play, happy to luxuriate in the firm press of your back against his chest. John’s wide palms found their homes low across your stomach and hip, letting him toy with the knot of your housecoat. Your concentration waned at the feeling of him nipping a line of fire along your neck. A soundless gasp accompanied the tug of his fingers at the knot. He made quick work of the barrier, pushing the sides of the garment back to give him more of what he wanted. With only the thin fabric of your nightgown now standing as an obstacle between the pair of you, he explored to his heart's content.

Leaning in, he found the hem of your pajamas bunching it between his fingers as he drew it higher and higher. John nestled the fabric at your hip before returning to your body. He started at your knee, drawing lazy circles on your skin, each stroke brought him closer to where you longed for him the most. Nearly there, he chuckled at the hypnotic arch of your body into this touch.

“Is there something you’d like, darlin’? Hmm?” the smooth vibrations of his questioning hum had you ready to beg, but the words to ask just weren’t there. Instead, he was met with a pleading whimper, “Use your words.”

“John,” breathless, you tried to keep playing, but your coordination failed completely at the feeling of his hand running along the inside of your thigh, “Please.”

“As you wish,” and with that he gave into his desires. Threading his free hand into your hair, he fixed your position so that he could claim your lips in a bruising kiss. A sharp tug at the base of your neck earned him an unholy groan. The embrace grew desperate, tongues clashing in a heady battle for control. This fight would be one that you lost without an ounce of regret because in doing so you surrendered yourself to his protective and loving embrace.

John’s sure touch found its mark without fail. Over and over, his calloused touch sent electricity singing down your spine. Settling into a rhythm, John listened to the hitch your breath the closer you came to the edge. Warmth pooled low in your body forming a band of pleasure that was nearly ready to snap. You clung to him, your hands searching for purchase anywhere you could find it. With one hand twisted in the silken strands of his hair, you reached back to find him while the other fell to his wrist holding him in place.

“I’ve got you,” staying steady, John watched you fall apart in his arms. Waves of desire tore through every nerve with his continued movements. His lips found yours again swallowing the frantic gasps and moans that poured from you. In time, your body relaxed into his. Your muscles were loose and pilant as he held you upright in his arms. Even with the release you’d just found, your body begged for more. Inhaling deeply, your lungs settled enough for you to speak.

“Take me to bed, John.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed them to your neck. A low huff of laughter rumbled his lungs, the end of which was punctuated by a small cough, but nothing could dampen this moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming trust and love that flowed between the pair of you. Together anything, and everything, felt possible.