#chair yoga moves

[rosiereveries]

TW: age gap (John is in his late 40s and reader is in her early 20s), cheating, unprotected sex, slight breeding, reader cheating on her boyfriend with his dad

Imagine that you are dating a CEO!John son. He is an awful boyfriend who doesn’t take care of you, but he sometimes buys you gifts, and he pays every time you go out. He has his dad's money, and you are comfortable in that relationship. You don’t love him, but you're bored so you date him anyway.

When he invites you to his parent’s place for a party his mother is organizing you agree. You never met his parents, but you googled his father when you started dating. You saw the pictures of John in his expensive black suits looking like a god of sex. He is so attractive with his piercing blue eyes and silver in his hair and the body. He is built like a bear, with broad shoulders and muscles with a little layer of fat.

When you arrive John's wife greets you, and you start to see that your boyfriend is the exact version of his mom. She is the typical neurotic mother who is obsessed with her baby boy, who has everything in life but still shoplifts underwear and cheats on her husband with some Pilates instructor (because he reminds her of her son). It is very clear that your boyfriend's parents don’t love each other, and they stay together just because they don’t have time for a divorce.

Your boyfriend leaves you at the bar. He orders you a drink and tells you to stay here and wait for him. He must go speak with his boys, and he doesn’t want you to ruin their vibe. You know they need some bro time. You stay at the bar texting your friends, promising that you will break up with him the moment he comes back because you just got the biggest ick from his bro time.

That’s how John finds you, Alone, sipping on your sweet drink and paying no attention to the party. He sits next to you, and when he asks you if you are one of his wife's friends from the yoga group you tell him no. He is relieved because you look like a sweet girl. Then you tell him that you date his son, and he thinks that his luck just run out. What he doesn’t know is that it is your 3rd drink of the night, you’ve been waiting for your boyfriend for more than 40 minutes and you are so over him. So you start to complain, you say that he doesn’t spend time with you, he only wants to have sex and when you finally agree, he can't get his dick hard because he is drunk or high. You also think that he is cheating on you and you couldn’t care less about him.

When John asks you why you are still with him you simply tell him that you enjoy his money. John orders you a glass of water and makes you drink it, then another and another. He has plans with you and he needs you sober. He moves his chair, so he sits closer to you, and he starts to tell you that if you want man's money you should find someone who will treat you well. Not only on the financial side but on the emotional as well. He slowly starts to touch your hand, and he leans so close you can smell his cologne. You are intoxicated by his smell, the closeness, and the alcohol you drank. When you realize that your boyfriend's father is in fact flirting with you start to flirt with him too.

You ask him if he knows how to take care of women. He plays your game, and he tells you that if you want to know you have to find out by yourself. You sit at the bar for another half an hour, you’re not allowed to have any more drinks only water, but when you beg John for a sip of his whiskey he gives in. He finds in very sensual how you drink from his glass, your lipstick leaving a mark on the glass and he wonders how your lipstick would look on his dick.

When you see your boyfriend talking and flirting with some other woman you have enough. You get up from your chair and you stand between John’s spread tights. He puts his hand on your lower back and starts to gently touch you. When you get close to him, he thinks that you are trying to kiss him but you only whisper asking if you’ve been good girl and if he will finally take care of you.

He walks you to some bedroom on the upper floor when the guests are not allowed, and the moment he closes the door behind you, he pines you to the wall. He kisses you like a hungry man, he’s tongue is immediately in your mouth, and he lifts you, so your legs are around his waist. He gropes your ass, squeezing and slapping and you’re getting so wet. You start to grind on him, feeling his bulge through his pants. You can feel how hard he is getting and how big he is. After he is done kissing you, he moves to your neck. He leaves there so many hickeys and little bruises from biting, and you know that he is marking what is his.

John gently places you on the bed and he starts to work on undressing you. When you are only in bra and panties, he takes a second, like he is enjoying the view, imagining what will happen next. You beg his to not tease you, to already do something, and when he finally takes your underwear off he spreads you legs and looks at your pussy. He asks you if his son ever eaten you out, and when you tell him no, you hear him say that he will make it up to you.

You hear him say how nice and wet you are for him, and he starts to gently bite your inner thighs. He slowly works his way to your centre and when he licks your clit you know you wont last long. John sucks and licks and when he adds his finger, slowly pushing in you, you start to feel your orgasm approaching. He fingers you with one hand, adding another finger, stretching you and with the other one he starts to massage your tits and when he pinches your nipple you come.

After that he slowly unbuttons his shirt, he unzips his pants, and he takes his boxers off. He grabs your ankles, and he pulls you to the side of the bed. John touches your nipples between his fingers, pinching them hard, and when you gasp you hear him laugh and say “So fucking sensitive for me.” His hands then slips under your legs and he spreads you wider for him.

He wants to fuck you raw, he doesn’t care if you are on birth control or not, he needs to feel your wet pussy around his cock. He starts to slide his tip between your fold teasing you. Then slowly he pushes in. You feel the stretch and you are very glad that he took his time preparing you for this. You feel so full of him as he pushes his way deeper and deeper. Once he is settled all the way in, he starts to pull out. His trusts are slow but rough,

John puts almost all his way on you as he starts to kiss you again. His hands are holding your legs as he fucks you. He puts your nipple in his mouth gently sucking and biting while his cock is pounding at your cervix. You fell him so deep, and you know that he is ruining you for any other man. The sex with his son couldn’t compared to this.

It doesn’t take long for you to be approaching your orgasm again. His hands are on your hips holding you still while he fastens the tempo, and you can feel, that he is close too. “That’s it come for me, be a good girl” you hear him say as he starts to rub your clit again. That’s when you come again, spasming on his cock milking him dry.

He cum inside of you, you can feel him throbbing as he spills his load inside. He doesn’t pull out, he just shifts your position so now he is laying on the bed and you are on his chest his dick still inside of you. When you try to get off him, he grips you harder and you can’t move. “I may not be 25 anymore but I still can give you another round” you hear him say. You can feel him getting harder in you again and you know, that you will be here for quite some time. “Now be a good girl and show me how can you ride my cock”

You just hope that your boyfriend won’t come looking for you.

Part two Masterlist

[luv-lock]

⸻ ꜱ ᴘ ɪ ᴅ ᴇ ʀ ɢ ɪ ʀ ʟ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere Batfam x Fem Reader

Headcanon: How is your relationship with batfam in general?

Notes: Reader is a pervert. Reader have the same abilities as spiderman. Again another silly fic that should not be taken seriously. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

At 22, you were a far cry from the scrappy little thief Bruce and Dick had caught all those years ago. Sure, you were still crass, still brutally honest, and still had a penchant for letting your intrusive thoughts win, but now? Now you were hot.

Like, objectively hot. Your tight black spider suit left very little to the imagination, clinging to every curve and muscle as you swung through the city. And you loved every second of it. The attention? Oh, the attention was your lifeblood. You basked in it like a lizard in the sun.

Dick was still wearing those tight pants, wasn’t he? You couldn’t help but stare. I mean, seriously, the guy had a killer ass. You were supposed to be on a mission, but all you could think about was how the suit hugged his figure in ways that made you forget everything except your growing thoughts. You even compared your ass to his when he wasn’t looking—just to make sure you were still in the running for the Best Butt in Gotham.

“Hey, Grayson,” you called out, voice dripping with amusement. He turned his head slightly, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Nice ass.” You grinned, winking.

He blinked. “What?” He stopped walking and spun around, completely thrown off by your bluntness.

“Oh, nothing, just admiring the view,” you shrugged, taking a step forward and pretending to actually pay attention to the mission. His cheeks turned red, but you didn’t care. You were busy eyeing his backside like it was a prize you were about to claim.

You convinced Dick to teach you yoga, but it wasn’t for flexibility—it was so you could watch him stretch.

“Wow, Dick,” you said, laying on the mat and pretending to follow his moves. “You’re really… bendy.”

He flushed. “It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not,” you teased, snapping a quick photo of him in a compromising pose. “This one’s going on the Batfam group chat.”

“Y/N, don’t you dare!”

You were bleeding out. Your side was burning, your vision blurry, and yet you were having the time of your life. Why? Because Jason Todd—walking sex god and part-time vigilante—was carrying you in his arms like you were a damsel in distress.

“Don’t worry,” Jason said, sprinting through an alley as explosions sounded in the distance. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be fine.”

You stared up at him, dazed but grinning. “You’re so pretty.”

“Y/N, stay awake,” Jason barked.

“I’m awake my angel,” you slurred. Your eyes drifted downward to his broad chest, the tight shirt doing little to hide the muscle underneath. You reached out, resting a hand on his pec. “You got...man boobs.”

Jason groaned. “You're hallucinating, stay awake please.”

“They’re perfect,” you whispered, leaning closer. And then—because you were you—you bit him.

Jason skidded to a stop, staring at you in disbelief. “Did you just—”

“I couldn’t help it,” you said, grinning despite the blood trickling down your chin. “They’re so biteable.”

You discovered Jason was ticklish purely by accident, and you never let him live it down. Anytime he annoyed you, you’d jab him in the ribs or poke his sides until he squirmed.

“Stop it, Y/N!” he growled, swatting at your hands.

“You wish,” you said, chasing him around the room.

The rest of the Batfam watched in stunned silence as Jason “Red Hood” Todd ran from you like a child.

You declared the Batcave chair yours one day and refused to let anyone else sit in it.

“It’s my throne,” you said, lounging dramatically as the others stood around, glaring.

“Get up,” Jason said, crossing his arms.

“Make me,” you replied, sticking your tongue out.

He grabbed you, but instead of throwing you out, you ended up on his lap, smirking. “Guess this works too.”

Anytime you were in the middle of a Dick and Jason argument, you somehow always ended up physically between them. And, oh, you weren’t complaining.

“Move, Dickhead,” Jason growled, pushing into your right shoulder, his broad chest pressing into the side of your face.

“Not a chance, Hood,” Dick snapped, leaning in on your other side, his own muscular frame trapping you against Jason.

You? You just stood there, smiling like a cat with a bowl of cream. “Ooh, I love this. It’s like being sandwiched between two very attractive brick walls.”

“What?!” they shouted in unison.

Jason shot Dick a death glare. “See what you did? You’re giving her ideas.”

“Me? You’re the one pressing into her like some kind of Neanderthal!”

You just smirked, leaning back into the tension. “Don’t mind me, boys. Please, continue. This is very entertaining.”

Dick was your favorite pillow, and you made sure he knew it. Anytime you were hanging out in the Batcave, you’d just casually rest your head on his shoulder or lean against his chest.

“Comfortable?” he asked, chuckling softly.

“Very,” you replied, closing your eyes.

He smiled, wrapping an arm around you. “Good.”

You peeked up at him, grinning. “You know, you make a great pillow. Very firm, but also soft in the right places.”

Dick laughed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks,” you said, smirking.

Dick’s ass was basically your personal stress ball at this point. It didn’t matter if you were on a mission, in the Batcave, or just walking through Gotham—if the opportunity presented itself, you’d take it.

SMACK!

“Jesus, Y/N!” Dick would jump, spinning around, his cheeks flushed.

“What?” you’d say innocently, shrugging. “It’s just so perfect. You work hard for that, right? I’m just appreciating the effort.”

He’d sigh, rubbing his neck, but you knew he secretly loved it.

Jason’s chest was another favorite of yours, especially when he was shirtless (which, let’s face it, happened a lot). You’d walk up to him, your fingers twitching, and—pinch!

“Damn it, Y/N!” Jason would glare at you, rubbing the spot where you’d gotten him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” you’d say with a cheeky grin. “Just checking if these are real.”

He’d groan, shaking his head, but you’d catch the tiny smirk he tried to hide.

You loved teasing, and nothing was off-limits. During a mission, your suit "mysteriously" ripped—right in front of Jason and Dick.

“Oh no,” you said innocently, looking over your shoulder at the tear just below your back. “Guess I’ll have to fix this later.”

Jason’s jaw tightened. “Y/N, stop.”

Dick looked away, flustered. “Maybe cover it up or something?”

“Why? You guys can’t handle a little skin?” You smirked, adjusting your suit to make it worse.

Jason grumbled, “I’m about to shoot that suit off you if you don’t stop playing.”

You had zero shame. Once, during a stakeout with Dick, you leaned over and kissed him right in the middle of his report to Bruce.

“Nightwing, report—” Bruce’s voice came over the comms, but you cut Dick off with your lips, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“Y/N!” he protested, his face red as he tried to pull away. “Bruce can hear us!”

“So?” you replied, shrugging as you went in for another kiss.

The first time you met Superman, you were not prepared.

“Y/N, this is Clark Kent,” Bruce said, his tone clipped as ever. “He’s Superman.”

You blinked up at the man of steel, all 6’4” of farm-boy perfection, and immediately zeroed in on one thing: the bulge.

You weren’t subtle about it either. Your eyes widened slightly as you stared, your head tilting to the side like you were trying to calculate something.

Clark, oblivious, smiled warmly. “It’s nice to meet you. Bruce has told me a lot about you.”

“Uh-huh,” you muttered, still staring. “Damn, you’re packing. Your wife must be so lucky.”

The room went silent. Bruce closed his eyes, looking like he was about to have an aneurysm. Clark cleared his throat, cheeks turning bright red.

“What—what does that mean?” Superman asked, clearly flustered.

“Oh, nothing,” you said, shrugging. “Just making an observation. By the way, you ever need help with Lois, let me know. I’m excellent at teamwork.”

Bruce groaned audibly in the background.

“Anyway,” he stammered, shifting awkwardly, “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about Damian and Jon.”

You didn’t hear a word he said.

Poor Tim. Sweet, awkward Tim. He didn’t deserve you, and yet you tormented him at every opportunity.

You were taller than him, which you used to your advantage constantly. One day, after a successful mission, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, pulling him into a tight hug. Your boobs pressed against the back of his head, and you could feel him stiffen like a deer caught in headlights.

“Good boy,”

“Y/N,” he croaked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“Hmm?”

“Let go.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

“LET GO!”

Tim was your little puppy, and you made sure he knew it. Anytime he looked stressed (which was, like, always), you’d grab him by the shoulders and pull him down onto your lap.

“Shhh,” you’d coo, stroking his hair while he sat there stiff as a board. “You’re working too hard, Timmy. Just relax.”

He’d blush furiously, stammering out a protest, but you’d silence him with a kiss to his forehead.

“Good boy,” you’d whisper, your voice soft but teasing. “You’re doing great.”

Poor Tim would be a mess, his face redder than Jason’s helmet, but you didn’t care. It was adorable.

Jason walked in once and nearly gagged. “This is the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen.”

When you first met Damian, you were charmed. Not by his skill, or his intellect, or his reputation as the Demon’s Son. No, you were charmed because he looked like an angry little bird.

He’d just finished beating the crap out of Tim in the training room when you walked in.

“Who is this?” Damian demanded, glaring at you.

You clasped your hands together, grinning. “Aww, you’re so cute!”

Damian bristled. “I am not cute! I am an assassin!”

You squealed, bouncing on your heels. “Look at him! He’s like a tiny murder pigeon!”

Tim, still lying on the mat, muttered, “Please kill me.”

“So adorable,” you said, holding your hands together in a “squee” motion, jumping up and down like a fangirl. “I didn’t know you were so mad! Look at you, little angry pookie!”

Damian, of course, was not impressed. “Shut up, woman.”

But you? You couldn’t stop giggling. “You’re, like, a pocket-sized villain. So cute.”

Since then, you’d taken to treating Damian like a literal baby. You’d sit him on your lap, spoon-feed him during meals, and ruffle his hair at every opportunity.

Damian was your baby, no matter how much he tried to argue otherwise. You gave him the most attention—whether it was ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks, or straight-up kissing him on the forehead during missions.

“Y/N, cease this nonsense!” he’d shout, trying to push you away.

“Aw, but you’re so cute,” you’d tease, holding his face in your hands.

Damian would glare, but the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed him. You knew he secretly loved it, especially when you called him your “adorable angry bird.”

Jon Kent adored you. But when he let it slip in front of Damian?

“Y/N is… well, she’s amazing,” Jon had said shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

Damian froze, his eyes narrowing. “What did you just say?”

“Uh, nothing!” Jon backpedaled, but Damian was already chasing him across the Batcave, sword in hand.

“YOU THINK YOU HAVE A CHANCE?!” Damian yelled as Jon flew for his life.

Bruce wasn’t immune to your antics either. You’d long since dropped the “old man” or “Bruce” in favor of something much more fun: “Daddy.”

“Good work tonight, Y/N,” Bruce said one evening, his tone professional.

You leaned against the Batcomputer, smirking. “Thanks, Daddy.”

Bruce froze, his eye twitching slightly.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You always been my suger daddy, it's only make sense if I call you daddy.”

He walked away without another word.

You made it your life mission to annoy Bruce whenever possible. During one of his infamous brooding sessions in the Batcave, you casually walked up to him, poked his nose, and said, “Boop.”

He froze, slowly turning to glare at you. “Don’t.”

“Boop,” you repeated, doing it again.

Dick and Tim were in hysterics in the background, and Jason muttered, “She’s got a death wish.”

Bruce, exhausted, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why am I not surprised?”

It started as a joke. You stole one of Bruce’s button-up shirts and wore it around the Manor. Now it was a regular occurrence, much to Bruce’s annoyance.

“That’s mine,” he’d say.

“Yup, and it’s comfy,” you’d reply, lounging on the couch.

Once, during a mission debrief, you leaned on the table and purred, “What’s the plan, Daddy?”

Jason choked on his drink, Dick coughed awkwardly, and Tim turned bright red.

Bruce didn’t even look up. “I will ground you.”

“Kinky,” you replied with a grin.

You had a thing for flirting with dangerous villains, and the Batfam hated it.

“I could totally take Deathstroke,” you said once after a fight.

“He tried to kill you!” Jason snapped.

“Yeah, but did you see the way he looked at me? Sparks, I tell you. Also who said I was talking about fighting?”

“She’s insane,” Damian muttered, but you just shrugged.

During a fight with the Joker, you’d stopped mid-battle to tilt your head and give him an appraising look.

“Y’know,” you said, webbing one of his henchmen to the wall. “You’d be kinda hot if you didn’t look like a corpse. Ever thought about skincare?”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Dick had yelled, dodging a swing from Harley Quinn.

“SHUT UP!” you shot back. “I CAN FIX HIM!”

Despite all the chaos and teasing, there’s a hidden, vulnerable side to you that craves attention—not just the kind that’s lustful, but the caring kind.

After a long night of missions, you’ll often crash in the Batcave. The family can be in the middle of an intense discussion or debriefing, but you’ll barge in, throw yourself onto Tim, and use his lap as a pillow.

Jason will grumble and say something about you “acting like a child,” but then you'll casually climb onto his back, burrowing your face into his shoulder as you cling to him.

Of course, Bruce just looks away like he’s done with all of you, but deep down, he knows that if he even tried to stop it, the whole family would turn on him. You're the glue holding them all together.

Main Headcanon

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[eroticnekoisa]

Beginner Yoga Class

M!Reader x Aespa Karina

Around 2,750 words

tags: sex, blowjob, titfuck, cumshot, reader has big dick, little bit of fluff, my first smut so don't judge me too harshly please

Recently, you decided to commit to a healthier lifestyle and to try new things. So you thought "Why not do both at once?" and began pondering what kind of activities you could do.

After pondering and searching for a few days, you ultimately decided to sign up for a yoga class. You haven't tried yoga before, plus, it would bring both the healthier lifestyle and new experience you desired. So why not?

When looking at the class options, you found a 1:1 class. Considering you have never done yoga before, you find it more appealing to be alone with the teacher. More focus on you and fewer people around to notice your mistakes, also leading to much less embarrassment from your cluelessness on the subject.

Just you and the teacher. No one else around.

You happily sign up and wait for the days to pass.

Entering the building, you instantly notice the atmosphere change. You proceed as you normally would, the receptionist greeting you before guiding you to your destination, it seems her nametag displays the name "Minjeong". As you enter the room, the receptionist let's you know that you can take one of the candies on her counter when you leave, as she returns to her place. How nice of her!

The kind receptionist shuts the door for you. You notice a dark haired woman standing next to a chair on the opposite side of the room, she appears to be fixing her hair in one of the mirrors on the wall. She doesn't seem to notice you. You approach her and greet her.

"Hello?"

startled by your voice, she quickly turns. "Oh! You're here for the class? You're early." Until now, you didn't notice that you are actually about 10 minutes early. I guess you didn't check the time.

"Sorry, I guess I didn't check the time."

"No, no. It's fine!" she says, "We can start early, just give me a minute. You can sit if you'd like" she offers with a kind smile on her face as she does something in the corner. You can't quite see what she's doing since her back is turned towards you.

You sat on the chair just as she suggested you do. You let her do what she's doing in peace, so you don't talk to her until she's ready. Your eyes wander around the room, eventually focusing on your yoga teacher. You admire her healthy looking hair, her pale skin…You begin to look at her clothing, wearing a fitted tank top, mildly baggy sweatpants, though not baggy enough to hide the curves of her hips and shape of her round ass.

You aren't looking at her with lust, just learning her features. Right? Your eyes seemed to have stopped caring about the room once you saw her ass. She turns around and smiles at you, raising one finger to tell you that she will only be one more minute! You quickly look at her face, hoping she didn't notice you staring at her ass.

She didn't notice anything when looking back at you. However, you did notice something. You noticed her large breasts held by her tank top. You couldn't help it, your thoughts were beginning to go exactly where they shouldn't. You began to think about what her body looks like underneath her clothes, how soft her skin would be, you even wondered what her pussy looks like for a few brief seconds. How dirty of you.

Your thoughts turned you on so much you could practically feel the blood rushing downward, you feel your cock getting harder, bigger, thicker. It's such a bad time to be turned on. You remain sitting in the chair (almost) successfully hiding the bulge in your pants.

"Okay. Can you move the chair now?" Karina says, with her back still turned toward you.

"Fuck." you thought. Just as you stand up, Karina turns around and drops a pen and her phone.

She gasps from seeing her phone separate from its case, she instantly bends over to pick up the items she dropped.

You can now see directly down her top, getting an almost complete view of her large, soft, breasts. Moving slightly as she moves her arms to gather the items she dropped.

Now standing up, you feel your cock firmly pressing against your pants. You can't possibly hide it now, especially considering your size. You hear Karina talking, but you don't seem to be listening. You just continue staring at her big tits, with endless sexual thoughts racing through your mind.

Smiling, Karina quickly stands up to finally get started with the class. She was excited to teach someone new.

"I'm sorry, I'm clumsy!" she says with a laugh, while looking at your face.

Just as you try to gain composure and act natural, she looks down at the chair beside you, but something else caught her attention.

"I really think I-I-" her jaw drops for a few seconds as she stares at the large bulge in your pants before realizing what she was doing, looking up to speak to you. "U-um-heh. Um. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

You turn your back to her, apologizing out of embarrassment. Though her directly looking at it turned you on even more.

"No, I'm sorry. Give me a minute, it's just-"

She interrupts you, saying "It's fine! It's totally fine!" trying to silence her awkward giggle. Now her thoughts were racing.

Awkward silence fills the room for what feels like forever. Karina looking at the floor, trying not to make you feel embarrassed. You don't notice, but she occasionally glances at you in the mirror, trying to get another look at your big cock print.

You hear her walking towards you, you feel a hand on your back and another hand on the side of your arm. She breaks the silence with her pretty voice and says,

"Can…….Can I see it..again?"

You feel so shocked to hear these words come from her mouth, you instantly turn around to look at her. Accidentally giving her exactly what she asked for. "What?!" you exclaim.

The second you face her, she looks directly at the bulge in your pants and covers her mouth in awe. Her eyes focusing on your cock made it twitch, bringing a very sexy looking smile to her face as she bites her lip.

She gets very close, putting one hand on your chest and the fingers of her other hand on the band of your sweatpants. Her face inches away from your own, her tits touching your chest as she leans in. She whispers,

"I want to see more. I….want..I want to touch it…"

You are completely lost and overwhelmed by the situation, you didn't believe it was actually happening. Karina was shy, but she was also very, very horny in this moment. She looked into your eyes, biting her lip even harder as she started gently tugging your pants downward.

You nod to give her permission. She smiles and puts both of her hands on your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear.

Your cock finally released, springing upwards. You feel your heart beating hard, just like your cock that Karina is staring at. She stares with a look of yearning on her face.

She slowly and gently grips the center of your cock with her small, soft, hand. The sight and feel of your cock turned her on so much, she couldn't stop there. She needed to stroke it, suck it, feel it deep inside her.

"Oh my god…it's so….big.." she said slowly, feeling how hard you are, she playfully asks "What got you so excited? Huh?" still holding your cock.

You smile and chuckle, not knowing what to say. She seems to have an idea, but she still wanted to tease you.

She begins stroking your cock, slowly pulling your foreskin back and forward, back and forward. The expression displayed on her gorgeous face clearly shows how aroused she is. It feels so good, you start to breath heavier. She likes the sound of that.

She lets go of your cock and with a devious look on her face, asks "Do you want to sit in the chair now?" hoping you understood what she was hinting at. You understood, but were in disbelief. You sat down in the chair, bringing her much joy.

She gets on her knees in front of you, putting her hands on each of your thighs. You don't believe what's happening, but that's okay. She doesn't mind.

You see Karina staring at your big, hard cock sticking straight up towards the ceiling. Now only inches away from her small, delicate face.

She grabs your cock, pressing it against her face and feeling how hard she made you. You both love the fact that your cock looks huge on her face, making both of you even hornier.

You feel her breath on your cock as she exhales with a soft moan, "Ahhh~"

She holds your cock still as she gives the tip a deep kiss, wetting her lips with your precum before she begins to open her mouth wide to take your sensitive tip in her mouth. You feel her wet, glossy lips sliding down your cock as it glides across her tongue.

You moan as she sucks and licks your cock, feeling her fingers start caressing and massaging your balls. She takes your cock deeper and deeper into her warm, wet mouth, sucking harder and harder. Feeling her saliva mixing with your precum, running down your cock from her lips. She tries to take it deep into her throat, but she can only handle the head entering her throat before she needs to stop.

She lifts her head up, looking at you while breathing heavily. Her lips and chin wet with your fluids. You feel frustrated, since you were right at the edge before she stopped all stimulation. But that's only because you didn't know what else she was planning in that pretty little head of hers.

Still on her knees, she smiles and slides her hands up your shirt, feeling your chest and stomach, brushing your nipples with her soft fingers. "How did my mouth feel?"

"Amazing…I can't believe this. We shouldn't-" you respond as she denies your logic.

"Shhh~ Babyy~" she says, "We have plenty of time, relax~" as she briefly stands up to give you a kiss before returning to her knees.

"I know what you want…" she teases as she removes her top, exposing her black bra. "Right?"

You respond with a "Yes…." and hear a cute yet sexy chuckle. She removes her bra, fully displaying her big, gorgeous tits you were peeping at earlier. Her nipples hard with excitement, as she caresses and softly squeezes her tits for you. Biting her lip at the pleasure and the sight of you.

She moans softly as she pinches her nipples, "And what about this?~"

She moves closer to you again, this time positioning your cock between her tits, pushing them together. She loves the feeling of her large tits surrounding your big cock, sliding up and down, making her swear.

"Fuck….is this what you wanted?" she asks, as if she wasn't the one to take your pants off.

"God…you're so pretty. It feels so good" you couldn't get any harder, the contrast of your hard cock and her soft tits turned you on even more.

Again, as you begin to feel like you'll cum any second, she stops touching you and stands up. Your cock begging for more as she ignores it, moving her body closer to your face. She puts her arms around your head, putting her beautiful tits in your face.

You begin to feel her breasts with your hands, squeezing, kneading, rubbing. She breathes in and out softly, yet heavily. She feels you begin to lick and suck on her sensitive nipples, bringing an involuntary moan out of her.

She continues to make lovely sounds as you play with her perfect tits, before putting her hand on your head and saying the following words

"St-stop….okay.."

You stop, thinking she has had enough and your luck ran out. She takes a moment before speaking again, as if her shyness returned.

"I need….I need more.."

She removes her pants completely, revealing her black panties.

"Please…….stand up.."

She couldn't take it anymore, she needed you to fuck her. She needed to feel your cock inside her pussy. She's been thinking about it since she first saw you.

You stand up as she removes her panties, you can't help but stare when you finally see her shaved pussy. It was a beautiful sight, even more beautiful than you imagined. You take a look at her panties that now lie on the floor, noticing the inside completely soaked with her fluids.

"Come on…" shyly encouraging you as she gets on the chair, her knees on the seat and her arms resting on the back. Bending over, giving you a complete view of her ass and pussy. She was so turned on, even her inner thighs were wet. It was a heavenly sight. The chair was positioned in a way that you can both see each other's faces in the mirrors on the wall.

You rest your cock on her ass and lower back, caressing her upper back with your hands, moving down to her waist as she watches in the mirror. Moving her hips back, pressing her ass onto you, she says "Please.."

Now that she was the desperately horny one, you decide to tease her. "Please what? What do you want?"

"I want it…"

"You want what? I want you to say it"

She looks at you from behind her shoulder, saying exactly what was on her mind "I want you to fuck me with your big, sexy cock. I need to feel your cock deep in my pussy. Please, please, fuck.."

You feel a wave of extreme desire flow through your body, hearing her speak those words. You have no choice but to give her exactly what she wants, after all, it's exactly what you want too.

As you prepare to penetrate her, you see her fingers already rubbing her clit, making her breath shaky. She couldn't resist, and now you can't resist either.

You slowly penetrate her warm, tight, wet pussy, it feels heavenly. Karina moans loudly as your cock travels deeper inside her, stretching her pussy. Her tits moving as you speed up, hitting her hips with your own, her ass jiggling subtly.

"It feels…fuck…so good.." she says between her moans and whimpers, rubbing her clit faster, causing her to arch her back.

"Harder….please!"

You give in and fuck her tight pussy even harder. You feel it squeezing your cock, she's in complete ecstasy. She physically cannot stop making noises.

"I'm so close…fuck. I'm-I'm gonna-ah!" she says loudly, before her legs begin to shake. Hearing those words brought you close once again. However, you were in control this time. You start fucking her faster, preparing to cum, just as you hear Karina loudly exclaim..

"I'M CUMMING"

She breathes heavily, moaning and shaking. You her pussy tightening and contracting around your cock, with her juices flowing out of her. You feel your orgasm approaching, it feels unbelievable.

As Karina watches in the mirror, you almost fail pull out of her perfect pussy as you cum, shooting large, thick ropes of cum on her ass and lower back. She softly moans, as she feels your hot cum covering her.

You both take a moment of silence to catch your breath, before you speak.

"That was…..insane."

Her shyness returns, she answers in a nod, hiding her face "Mmhmm.."

You grab towels to clean her up, and gather your clothes. Wondering about the actual yoga class, you ask her "Can I….still come again for yoga?"

Getting dressed, she answers with a giggle "Yes, next week."

"This was the weirdest class I've ever done, but…."

"…Yeah?" you ask, curious about what she was going to say.

"Um…nothing. It's time for you to leave, class is over!"

She awkwardly chases you back into the lobby, shutting the door. The receptionist glances at you as you walk by, her face very red. She asks,

"Is…uh….everything okay?", with a weird expression on her face.

A little embarrassed, you respond "Yeah, it went great!"

You don't stop walking to save yourself from the awkward and confusing situation that remained in the building. You proceed to travel home, realizing that you did not take the free candy offered by the kind, blonde receptionist.

Thank you for reading if you made it this far~

[luveline]

Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻

mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”

You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.

“Okay, now we count. One, two…”

“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”

“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”

“Five, six, four–”

You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.

“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.

“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.

You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”

She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.

“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.

She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.

She touches your neck.

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.

Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.

If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.

You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”

“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.

“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.

“Hi,” Junie says.

“Hi, babe.”

“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”

“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”

You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.

“Eddie, what is that stuff?”

“You don’t know what day it is today?”

You think about it for a second at least. “No?”

It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.

“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.

You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”

You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I am. Open it up.”

You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.

“Is it today?” you ask.

“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”

You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”

“Junie got me this?”

“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”

Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.

Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”

You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.

You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.

“What’s in the box?”

He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”

“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.

He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”

You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.

It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.

“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”

You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.

Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”

“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.

“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”

“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.

He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”

“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

“I really love you.”

“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”

Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”

She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.

[wendichester]

˙ 🧘🏻‍♀️ ༘ ⋆｡˚ blissful stretching,

summary. sam's new favorite hobbie is watching you work out (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

pairing. sam winchester x reader

wordcount. 637

notes. sam gets a little worked up, intimacy implied .ᐟ

Sam shouldn’t be staring. He knows this. But knowing and doing are two entirely different things, and right now, he’s failing miserably.

You’re in the middle of the library, yoga mat stretched out, your body moving with a grace he finds impossible to look away from. It’s not like this is the first time he’s seen you workout after a hunt—he knows how you like to unwind and this sometimes helps—but today, something about it feels different. Or maybe it’s him.

The curve of your legs as you fold into a deep stretch catches his attention first. Long, toned, perfect. Your hips tilt as you shift positions, and the subtle sway makes his throat go dry. His book is open in front of him, but it’s a lost cause, forgotten an embarrassingly-too-long ago. His eyes are glued to the way your body bends and flexes, the tension in your muscles visible under the thin fabric of your leggings.

When you lean forward into a new pose, your chest pressing against your thighs, the dip of your waist and the arch of your back are too much. His hand drags over his face as if that will somehow erase the images now permanently burned into his brain. You're just so flexible.

He lets out a shaky breath and shifts in his chair, his jeans feeling tighter than they should. He tries to focus on the book in front of him, but the effort is half-hearted at best. His gaze lifts again, like he has no control over it, drawn to the sheen of sweat beginning to form at the base of your neck. He could just lick it off of you.

Your lips part as you exhale slowly, the sound soft but enough to send a jolt through him. He loves the little sounds you make. He catches himself biting his bottom lip, his fingers flexing like they’re itching to reach out. You move into a downward dog, your ass lifting high, and he curses under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he leans back in his chair.

Get it together, Winchester.

But he can’t. Not when your shirt rides up just enough to reveal a strip of skin above the waistband of your leggings. Not when the curve of your spine leads his eyes lower.

You move into a plank, arms trembling slightly as you hold yourself steady. Your breaths come heavier now, each exhale accompanied by the faintest puff of air through those soft, parted lips. His hand clenches into a fist on the table, and if he closes his eyes, he can almost picture you in a different scenario, making those sounds because of him.

When you finally sit back on your heels, brushing a stray strand of hair from your flushed face, you glance his way with a small, innocent smile. It’s his undoing.

He’s out of his chair in an instant, striding toward you with a purpose that makes your smile falter into something more curious. He crouches beside you, his hand moving slowly, deliberately, to trace the curve of your waist. The touch is featherlight, but it sets every nerve in your body alight.

“Oh,” Sam murmurs, his voice low and thick. His finger follows the line of your hip, teasingly slow. “You’re all warmed up now, huh?” His lips curve into the faintest smirk. “Guess we can finally get started.”

Your breath hitches, your pulse racing under the weight of his words. His fingers continue their path, gliding along your thigh now, the intent clear despite the casual tone in his voice.

“Sam,” you whisper, unsure whether it’s a plea or a warning.

His other hand cups your chin gently, tilting your face toward his. “Relax,” he says, his voice soft yet commanding. “I’ll take it from here.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11

[miss-celestial-being]

jake peralta going on a blind date that boyle set up but she’s actually completely his type

literally the love of my life tysm for the request

-

"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. And did I mention, no!" Jake says exasperatedly. "You see, I knew you would say that which is why I already set up the date with her." Charles rebuttals. He tells him your name as he taps rhythmically on Jake's desk. "She's thirty-two, she loves herself some Tay-Tay, and her favorite soup is crab bisque. I met her in my hot goat yoga class." "Ew, what." "Yeah, I'm hearing how that sounds now. But still, I think you'd like her. Who knows, by the end of the night you may just be smushing booties." Jake groans, "God, Boyle, don't say smushing booties." "Right, yeah, yep," He picks up the file from Jake's desk, turning to the man as he walks away, "Shaw's Bar, 8 o'clock."

Charles turns back around and bumps into Terry as he walks to his desk. He groans as he crushes his yogurt cup in his hand, "Damnnit, Boyle." "Sorry," He says as he backs toward the exit of the bullpen. He rapidly clicks the close button once inside the elevator, evading Terry's angry gaze. "Jake sighs as he looks back at his computer.

"So, hot date tonight, huh?" Amy asks as she leans around their computers to smirk smugly at him. "Uhm, no. I'm not going," He says, his eyes not leaving the screen as he types mindlessly. "What? Why not? Charles says she's perfect for you." "Exactly: Charles thinks she's perfect for me. Knowing him she's either some hot goat yoga-loving freak, or-" "Or actually perfect for you. I think you should give it a shot. I mean, you're constantly complaining about how horribly dull your love life is," Jake frowns, "Hey, now, I wouldn't say horrible dull-" "Yes you would, and you have. Now no more fighting, you have a date to get ready for." Jake looks at the time at the bottom right corner of his monitor and sighs, "All right, fine. But when this all goes to total shit, I'm blaming you." Amy rolls her eyes with a grin and opens the next file from her stack as Jake makes his way to the elevator.

-

The bell rings as Jake opens the door to Shaw's Bar, his free hand shoved in his jacket pocket. The warm, boozy bar air fills his nostrils as he steps toward the bar, the glass door closing slowly behind him. He looks around the bar, hoping to instantly recognize the mystery woman, to no avail.

The bell rings again as Jake asks Hank for an orange soda on the rocks. The bartender sighs exhaustedly as he pulls the Crush can out of the mini fridge from behind the bar. "Jake?" A voice asks as someone taps him on the shoulder. He turns around, and his mouth opens and closes like a fish as his brain short-circuits. "Or not?" You laugh awkwardly, "I'm really sorry about this, I was told someone would be here, but it looks like he stood me up." You sit one chair over at the bartop, sighing as you rest your chin on your fist.

"Hi," Jake says as he hold out his hand, "I'm Jake." "Oh," You breathe, "Sorry. You didn't say anything and I just thought- Y'know what, never mind, I'm probably not what you were expecting." Jake smiles, "Well, you're right there. Charles told me he met you in a 'hot goat yoga class'." You cringe slightly, "I honestly didn't even know his name, I walked into the wrong building and he started talking to me about his friend Jake." "Sounds about right." You both laugh and he moves to the chair between you.

"So, my weird friend tells me you like Taylor Swift," Jake starts and the conversation lasts hours, the orange soda on the countertop left completely ignored. "All right, time to wrap it up. The bar's closing." Hank says as he wipes the counter. "Oh my god, how long have we been here?" Jake asks him, surprised. The bartender ignores him as he moves on to another part of the bar. You look around to find the bar completely empty.

You laugh quietly, "This was fun," You say softly as you exit the bar, "We should do this again-" You're cut off by a sudden surprising kiss, Jake's hands holding your cheeks gently to keep you close. Your eyes flutter closed and take the collar of his shirt in your fists. He pulls away, mumbling out a quick 'noice' before getting pulled back into a kiss that leaves him gasping for breath.

-

ik this ended abruptly but its a school night and i have to go to bed so this is as good as we're getting today

i really hope you liked this bc jake has been on my mind for ages and i couldnt find many fics here sadly

dont hesitate to request more

[iid-smile]

geto would...

if you were dating them series.

lay next to you when you're cramping. he already has a heat pad against your abdomen, pillows and blankets adjusted to your liking, and he just lays there with you. his eyes would trace over your expression constantly, and down to where your arms clutch over your waist. if you're okay with touch, his hand would rub over your thigh, up to your shoulder, cup your cheek, and run all the way back down. he'd let you bury your head in his chest if the cramps are particularly bad or if you just feel a bit embarrassed. he'd hum every time you whimper or groan to remind you that he's there, and gently kiss your neck every now and then.

buy you tights. i think he would prefer tights over bare legs. around winter time, he'd buy you all sorts of tights that go well with a lot of outfits. lined tights that keep you warm are a must have. honestly, he prefers black tights over skin coloured ones as well. when the two of you are sat around, he likes circling his hand around your lower thighs and knees. the material separating his skin from yours, and his warmth slowly seeping through the fabric, transferring over to you.

rest his chin on the top of your head. don't worry, you don't have to be short for this. if you are short, he'll do it when the two of you are waiting for something while standing, like the bus or a queue. may hug you from behind, or hold somewhere in between your shoulders and upper arms. height doesn't matter when you're sat on a chair. he'd place his chin down and wrap his arms around your neck while leaning down. and he's warm. for some reason, it feels ten times warmer when he does it while your sitting compared to standing. 100% the best when he's wearing a sweater or cardigan and he has sweater paws! (bonus points if his hair is down!!!)

play the pepero/pocky game with you on a daily basis. the more he does it, the less it is to tease you and the more it's an excuse to kiss you with a sweet flavour. there's not a single day where the two of you haven't done it, and it doesn't necessarily have to be with just the coated biscuit. you've tried gummy worms, marshmallows, rainbow belts, twizzlers, anything thats long enough to give some suspense before your lips actually touch. even when one of you are cooking and you want to try something like fries, spaghetti, rolled up crepes, you still do it. this time, the kiss turns into only a peck so the two of you can pull away and have time to chew.

stretch with you. after his atrocious posture in high school, he promised himself to stretch every morning and keep his back crack free at all times. when he does this, he does move around on the mattress a lot, so sometimes it shakes you awake. though stretching does remind him of a certain someone (iykyk), he doesn't want think about it and tries to associate stretching with you instead. he'd help you out with getting in the right positions, or investing some time into easy yoga that you can both get into.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。this feeling inside of me— | gojo satoru

wc: 1.5k

summary: you make gojo realize that this twisty-pop!-y feeling in his stomach might just be jealousy. 

contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns are used, mild jealousy, mentions of some of the students, lots of stifled laughs and held back grins!, mostly fluff really, gojo just doesn’t understand what he’s feeling! 

a/n: split this into two parts: the first half (this one), lighter and more central to reader’s perspective, while the second half (the next part), darker, and more central to gojo’s perspective. best read after ‘so this is what it means to be in love’ because there are some references made! 

collection masterlist: conversations on love 03. so this is what it means to be in love + (extended scene) too good to be mine <-you are here -> 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace?

Gojo’s been… hovering lately.

He hangs around you a lot more than usual, following your footsteps around your apartment as if he didn’t just spend the night and stay in bed with you all morning. 

You’d think that’d stop at work, but nope. 

For someone who hates sitting still, Gojo’s spending an awful lot of time doing nothing while watching you rifle through folders and documents you’re meant to type away. He sits by the chair in front of his desk, feet propped up and fingers tapping on the wooden surface enough to push you just to the point of going a little crazy. 

Tap.

You could have sworn you’ve read this line already. 

Tap.

This paragraph feels entirely too familiar at this point. 

Tap—

“Satoru,” you sigh, smile half-annoyed-half-guilty as you switch your attention to the man in front of you, “do you have extra work to finish today?” 

You’re trying to ask kindly, after all, Gojo rarely chooses to sit by the paperwork he’s been assigned to do (even though he doesn’t really do any of it because it’s mostly left to you). 

He stops tapping, moving to rest his cheek on one hand as he flashes you a grin so lovesick you think it’s infectious—the corners of your lips are curling up too. 

“Just working on spending more time with you.” 

Of course he says something like this; the most powerful man in jujutsu society transformed into the ever-charming sweet-talker that being your lover brings. 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you chuckle—the look on your face a reflection of his. As annoyed as you are that he’s distracting you, you’re endeared. 

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know.” 

Today is his day-off after all. 

He hums, eyes set on you with cerulean sincerity, “It’s boring without you, though.” 

Strands of white fall to kiss his eyelashes and you reach forward to brush them off—his hair is getting longer now, you note. No doubt he’s going to ask you to accompany him for a haircut soon. 

His nose scrunches under the space your fingers hover over and you draw them back, “Clingy.”

—which he’s always been, but even moreso lately. You don’t know where all of it is coming from, how it’s even possible for him to be clingier than normal, but the past weeks have definitely shown you that he is more than capable. 

Gojo loves grocery runs, but only when he’s able to wander around the breakfast and candy section while you go through the long list of essentials and ingredients that need stocking up on. 

Not last week though. 

Instead of beelining straight towards his usual spot, he stayed right where you were, pushing the cart whenever you needed him to and reaching up on the top shelf for things you’d normally have to ask some other kind sir to get to. He stays close to you, body draping over yours as you line up for the checkout queue—long limbs, long torso, long everything engulfing you.

It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru, but the days after that find him following you everywhere—picking you up after pottery with Megumi (as if you can’t make it back home alone), insisting on doing a taste test on cooking lessons with Inumaki, and even joining you on that afternoon yoga class you reserved for (initially) just you and Yuuji. 

You wonder what’s causing this, why he’s acting this way lately.

“Well, I have to be or else Yuuji might really steal you away from me.” he jokes, elbows propped on the table as he rests his chin on clasped hands. 

You know that he isn’t actually threatened by Yuuji—just that he wants more attention from you, some that you give to the pink-haired boy too eagerly and so easily. 

Still, it’s weird whatever he’s feeling right now, a bundle of unrest bubbling in his stomach these days. He isn’t familiar with it, doesn’t really know what to call it, just that he knows when it hits—like knots waiting to pop at any minute.  

You stand up from your seat to make your way to him, glancing at the clock across the room; you suppose there’s no point trying to squeeze in any more work for the last 20 minutes before you’re set to clock out. 

Gojo pats his thigh, as if beckoning you to sit; he manspreads like crazy but you think it makes sense for moments when he wants to hold you like this. 

Once you position yourself on his lap, he snakes an arm around your waist as you sling yours around the back of his neck, landing a soft peck at the tip of his nose. The hand resting on your hip rubs gently. 

“Is that comment still bothering you?” you ask, scratching the short buzzed hair of his undercut. 

You catch his eyes then, sky blue with a troubled sea.

Now that he thinks about it, it probably did start with the videos. 

Gojo Satoru is a man of many accolades: the strongest, a lone child prodigy, the best teacher (self-proclaimed); at some point he was also the world’s saving grace, and you’d think after that he’d decide to lay low for a bit, have a change of pace—but no.

The man you love has also, apparently, become a social media heartthrob after garnering attention for vlogging your dates. For the memories, he had said, but of course, it’s never just that when he’s as pretty–if not prettier–than the models you see on magazines and billboard posters. The video goes viral and suddenly you’re made very aware of just how coveted he is across all generations. 

He feels the first pop! in his stomach when he finds the comment under a 10-minute video of your day out in the park. He blacked out, he’s sure, but some loser said something about how you were so hot and completely out of his league.

As if he doesn’t know that already, but it’s how confident user ManInATux69 typed that you should just leave Gojo and be with him instead. That one stung a bit; maybe even got to his head, and it’s ridiculous because it really is just some faceless person on the internet. 

But maybe that’s really how this feeling started. 

“Of course not,” he pouts, eyes avoiding yours as he looks to the side, brows furrowed.

You stifle a giggle as you wait, biting the insides of your cheek as you stare at him. A mental countdown until—

“Maybe a bit.” he mumbles after a few blinks, pout deepening as he turns to you. He always comes around to tell you the truth, without fail. 

It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru. Your Satoru.

“You wanna tell me how you’re feeling exactly?” 

If there’s one word Gojo will use to describe you, it will always be lovely. You have always been so gentle, so kind, never pushing, always asking lightly. 

You’ve sat through all his non-answers, so he thinks it’s just right, fair, that he gladly offers up his heart to you, now nestled into the palm of your hands as he lays all these feelings down, bare, intended just for you. 

He takes your free hand and places it right at his center, the space between his chest and abdomen. It’s warm as his hand dwarfs yours, forming it into a fist and twisting it into his skin. 

“Feels like a knot first,” he begins, before jerking your hand slightly as if to emulate a pop!, “then it pops.” 

And you think, that for all he sees and knows, it’s ironic that he can describe a feeling so vividly yet not know what it’s called—what it could possibly mean or be. 

“Do you think you’re jealous, Satoru?” you ask, smiling, fighting back a giggle (again), tone teasing. 

Hm, he thinks, is that what this is? 

Jealousy? 

He stares at you, lips parted slightly as you watch it register to him slowly. 

“Would explain why you’ve been hovering,” you chuckle, stroking small circles with your thumb. 

“I have not been hovering.” he snaps out of it, almost offended. 

You give him a look, eyebrow raised and mouth set in a smirk as if to say: really?

He relents, taking your hand to interlace your fingers with his, “Maybe a little.” 

Kisses are dotted along your knuckles, his eyes closed as if to ground him. You’ve known Gojo for so long that you can tell when he’s still figuring out how to say whatever it is he wants to—and your heart warms at the fact that this side to him is one he only entrusts to you. 

“There’s no competition, you know,” you whisper, the sky opening back to you, “I love you.” 

Your words are weighted, meant for him to hold and keep in the parts of him that doubt what he means to you. And it might sound a bit silly, to be this affected over a comment from some nobody, but you don’t want to leave any room for uncertainty—for your inaction to once again feed into his insecurity. 

He hums, soft vibrations flowing through his lips still pressed against your hand. Red is starting to bloom across his cheeks to his nose, and he mumbles, “Just want to be sure I’m good to you.”

a/n: the first and second part wouldn’t have fit in tone if i put them in one fic, so i split them! the second part will be a bit darker, more serious, but will discuss more of where the feelings stem from in the first place! 

thank you notes: to niku @stellamancer for listening to me and being there when i seriously needed it writing this!! & to dilly and somi my bbgirls!! @crysugu @soumies for always cheering me on, especially during the slump!! 

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[zepskies]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdFgGL1y/

I’ve been loving this trend and then realised this could literally bmd Ben and reader asking him to show how he would’ve moved to her in the 80s and even better cause he literally experienced it, I can see him being unwilling to entertain but slowly caving in when he sees she’s not breaking and giving him attention until he tries

LOL that's adorable. 😂 Thanks for thinking of Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)! Seems to be a theme this week lol! I went ahead and watched that TikTok and again it got me imaging the thing...

Imagine Soldier Boy (Ben) "Sliding Up" to You in the Club

I can imagine that coming up in conversation if the reader in BMD was being subjected to watching another one of his music videos. She'd be teasing him, of course, but he'd be defending himself and his career choices. It was the 80s!

And for your information, Ben says, women were fucking falling over themselves to have him sign their Rapture albums. It was frankly irritating when he went out. Sometimes, he just wanted to relax with a smoke and a glass of bourbon at the club. You scoff at that one.

He looks amused. "What, you think you would've been the only girl in America who didn't cream their panties when I showed up?"

You shoot him a wry brow raise. Do you have to remind him how you two met? Being tied to a chair with zip ties comes to mind.

But then, something else occurs to you. The first time you and Ben actually met was in a smokey club in Medellin, Colombia. You'd been "undercover" then, and though you hadn't danced with him, it makes you think...

"Okay, let's say we're at the club," you pose, with a sly smile. "It's 1983..."

You find the song "Too Shy" on your phone; quintessential 80s pop. The smooth riffs start playing. You get up to start vibing near him in the comfort of your living room. You're just swaying side to side with a little sensuous, playful bounce to your step, your hand movements simple.

Ben doesn't want to smile, but you're making it difficult as he lounges half across the couch.

"Come on. How would you slide up on me?" you taunt.

He arches a brow. "Slide?"

"You know what I mean. What was your move, huh?" you ask, teasing him with the curve of your ass and the sway of your hips in your yoga pants.

You saunter closer to him, beckoning him over to you. All the while you sing to yourself, "Too shy, shyyyy. Hush, hush, eye to eye..."

Ben rolls his eyes, reluctant to rise to your bait. But eventually, your teasing is too much for him to ignore. He pulls himself off the couch and comes up behind you.

He takes your hand while you're purposefully facing away from him, and smoothly turns you around, guiding you back into his arms like he's Fred Astaire. You utter a little gasp and grab onto his shoulders. Your gaze flicks up to his with a smile.

His lips curve as he looks down at you. He matches the vibe of the song as he moves along with you, but then he turns you around, holding you from behind with steady hands sliding down the curve of your waist. His strength is tempered just enough for you to feel it.

He gradually moves closer with every bounce of the beat, and soon every part of his body is molded to yours. Your hands fall over his as you subtly lean back against his chest.

He bows his head near your cheek, smiling, because he can hear your heart beating a little faster. His lips brush the shell of your ear.

"Gotcha."

AN: Once again, this turned into a little headcanon/imagine that I wasn't expecting. 🤣 Last post before I'm off on a trip all weekend! 💚

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[thoughtfulfiction]

Little Duckling

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

Warning: pregnancy and childbirth

Saturday 10pm

Justin had been asleep for almost two hours as you folded laundry and put it away in the nursery. Your induction was scheduled for Monday morning promptly at 8am and everyone within the Chargers organization knew that this was happening because your husband absolutely hated taking the day off. But this was understandably a special exception to the rule. You’d spent the last 9 months mentally and physically preparing yourself for this moment but the idea of having a human being relying on you for everything was still such a daunting task that you almost wished the day wouldn’t come. Not until you felt completely prepared at least.

And then the ache in your back and hips reminded you that your baby girl was quickly running out of room and would be making her entrance soon, whether you and your husband were ready or not. On the bright side, your stomach had dropped significantly in the last few days, allowing you to breathe easier and for Justin to poke fun at your pronounced waddle. He affectionately started calling you Mumble last week, from Happy Feet. The dad jokes were coming in strong.

You heaved yourself out of the chair you were parked in and were headed off to bed before a slight pain wrapped itself around the base of your stomach. The pressure moved from the back to the front, settling on a spot underneath your belly button. You stopped walking and used the wall to support yourself, rubbing small circles around the area until it passed. As a Braxton-Hicks veteran, you continued your trek to the bedroom, completed your nighttime routine and headed off to bed.

Sunday 2am

It happened again. The slight twinge of discomfort had you holding your breath for about 15 seconds before letting go and you had to take several deep breaths to recover. After a few minutes everything was normal again and you had to turn around to make sure that Justin was still asleep next to you. Throughout your pregnancy he’d become a much lighter sleeper, often waking up at ungodly hours to get you snacks or a few nights when you caught him talking to your belly, whether it was talking about the playbook or just telling her he couldn’t wait to meet her, it warmed your heart just the same. But you were thankful for now that he just missed that entire exchange because you were definitely not in labor…right?

Sunday 7am

You were definitely in labor. On a Sunday, when the Chargers were playing the Broncos at home. Of course. You’d experienced three contractions so far, just about four hours apart so you had plenty of time. There was no way in hell you were telling Justin. As soon as it was appropriate, you scooted yourself out of bed and went down to the home gym for some prenatal yoga and a good stretch, hoping it would provide a boost of positive energy. Then you hopped in the shower, allowing the warm water would relax your tense muscles and maybe help you delay the inevitable.

By 8:30 Justin was awake and making breakfast for the two of you while you sat on the couch watching New Girl. He brought your plate and a cup of orange juice to you which you were grateful for, but the thought of putting anything but the juice in your body made your stomach turn.

“Are you alright? You’ve barely touched your avocado toast and you’ve been devouring it the last few days.” He ran a gentle hand on your forehead like he was checking your temperature and caressed your cheek when he realized you weren’t abnormally warm. “I can make you something else before I leave if you want?”

“No, I’m fine! Just not hungry yet, I’ll probably eat later.” You lied through your teeth, desperately hoping that he would let it go. The excuse seemed to satisfy him enough for him to head back upstairs to watch some film and get ready. An hour and a half later, he headed downstairs just in time to find you stretching out your back, the cramp beginning to wash over you.

He replaced your hands with his own, slightly lifting your stomach to take the weight off for a bit. “Your stomach is hard as a rock,” he observed furrowing his brows and starting to piece things together. “Are you sure everything is ok?” His soft voice attempted to mask his worry filled words.

“Yeah I’m having a fake contraction, you know they’re so common these days.” You rushed out, attempting to use his extensive research against him. He could probably write his own version of “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” with his newfound pregnancy knowledge. It was both impressive and scary how much he had grown to know what’s going on in your body before you did.

Although he nods his head in understanding, his face is still full of distress. And you could tell he was analyzing your words and tone of voice for any sign that you were lying, leaving you to mentally curse at the fact that he knew you so well and you’d need to work extra hard to convince him to go on like this was a normal day.

Although he let out a deep sigh, he didn’t ask any further questions. “I know, I just hate the thought of you being in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You tap his wrist so he can slowly drop your belly and you turn around in his arms. “You’re so cute, but it really isn’t that bad. A lot less painful than playing with ankle that’s hanging on by a shoestring I can tell you that.” You chuckle, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back and you felt compelled to return the favor, sensing he too needed some comfort. “Here’s what’s gonna happen today though. You are going to go and kick Denver’s ass then you’re going to come home, we’ll celebrate and then tomorrow you’ll be on your way to being the greatest dad to ever live. How does that sound?”

Justin chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips, nose and forehead. “If I’m half as good a parent as I know you will be, then I know I’ll be golden.”

“Stop it before I start crying, you know I’m super hormonal right now this isn’t fair.” You mumble, tears brimming your eyes. He gives you one last kiss before reminding you to call your friend Dani to stay with you, even though your moms were on their way to your home.

Once he pulled out of the driveway you could relax, letting out a deep sigh and patting your swollen middle. Crisis averted.

For now.

Sunday 12pm

Contractions were officially every hour and Dani was trying her best not to freak out in order not to freak you out. But she was definitely freaking out. What started out as more intense period cramps were becoming a lot sharper, so much so that you couldn’t even focus on Encanto, which was the last sign you needed to know that this was the real thing. You did manage to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and take a nap while she was with you, fluffing your pillows and telling you that you were doing amazing. Three hours later, there was a knock at the door and Dani went to open it for Holly and your mom. The two becoming best friends was probably the cutest thing in the world and your mom had even flown to Oregon three days before just to spend time with Holly and drive to California with her. They were the sweetest. And of course they brought snacks. There were lactation cookies for you in the freezer already but they brought more and they brought an abundance of food to eat during the game, which usually would have made your day, but today all it did was make you want to stick your face in the toilet.

You greeted the two women with hugs as Dani helped set up their spread and they immediately asked how you were feeling.

“I just woke up not too long ago so I’m feeling great now. Very ready to not be pregnant anymore so I can see my f—ohhh wow. Ow.” You groaned, one hand on your contracting belly and the other gripping the counter for dear life.

Dani’s eyes bug out of her head as she moves to rub your back. “That was the roughest one yet.” She was right, this one left your whole body sore, a loud reminder that things were definitely moving along.

“This one?” Your mom questions, looking between you and Dani. Then, she and Holly exchange a look.

“Oh my gosh sweetie, you’re in labor!” Holly exclaims, “we need to get a hold of Justin immediately. I’ll call Mark, I’m sure he’s already at the stadium.”

You cannot shake your head fast enough, “there’s no need to call him yet, that was the first bad one. And this game is important.”

“It’s Justin hun, every game is important,” Holly laughs, giving you a loving squeeze.

“But you know what’s even more important to him? You and that baby girl that’s getting ready to meet us soon. Are you sure you don’t want to tell him now?”

“I’m sure,” you sigh, allowing your mom to guide you back to the couch, sinking down into it with a groan. “Once the game is over he’ll be here and we’ll go have a baby. But not a moment before.”

Admittedly, it was getting harder to focus. Justin was playing great, but of course so was Bo Nix. The Chargers would score and the Broncos would answer. The Broncos would get a stop and the Chargers would force a punt. You were entertained but the battle happening within you was the most interesting one to the people in your house.

Your mom had gone down to find your birthing ball, which helped for about half a quarter, just in time for a Ladd McConkey touchdown to put the Chargers up by 10. By the end of the third you were forced into a squat behind one of the couches, spreading your legs to hopefully ease the increasing pressure on your hips. You breathed through the contraction, the sensation sending a pins and needles feeling near your tailbone. Holly made sure you stayed hydrated, having secretly texted her husband halfway through the fourth quarter when the game was firmly in hand to have their son home as soon as humanly possible. Contractions creeped on 30 minutes apart, leaving you panting and groaning in discomfort until your muscles relaxed.

Fifteen minutes later, you were pacing around the living room and you had to stop to hold onto the couch again, your mom helping you roll your hips as you felt thin beads of sweat building around your hairline. Things were getting real and scary and you needed Justin.

“What time is it?” You murmured, cupping your stomach with a hiss as the baby moved.

“It’s 7:15 and he’s on his way home, baby.” Your mom whispers, sensing your increasing distress, “he’ll be here soon.”

“My back hurts,” you state suddenly, a slight tremble in your voice. “Everything really hurts.”

Your mom grabs at your hips, squeezing them together to apply counter pressure, giving you momentary relief.

Dani was in charge of timing contractions and all you knew was the moment in between them where you could actually form a coherent thought. Time was no longer real. You headed upstairs for some time to yourself and a wave of nausea hit you and you emptied probably everything you’d eaten the entire day, which in hindsight probably wasn’t much. But you weren’t in the headspace to think clearly right now. You walked back towards to the bedroom and clutched the doorway, visibly feeling the heaviness of the baby moving down, almost sending you to your knees if it weren’t for the solid, calming presence that was suddenly in front of you.

“Hey babe.” You breathe out, feeling a little unsure that your legs were capable of holding you up until you could sit on the bed.

He pulled you into his arms as close as your belly would allow and pressed his lips your forehead. “Hi. Glad I could make it back in time. I knew something was off with you this morning,” he narrowed his eyebrows at you when he pulled away, walking you slowly back into the room placing a firm hand on the small of your back, making circles with it while holding your hand with the other. “Alright baby…how long have you been in labor?”

You let out a dry laugh at his disappointed dad look. “Since 10 last night I think? But let’s focus on the important things, you played great and you won but man you guys really took a minute to shut the door on ‘em.”

“Right, the important things.” He says with a knowing smile. “I know you love football as much as I do now, but if you told me earlier I would’ve been at your side in a heartbeat. You know that, right?”

God, you hoped your baby had his caring heart. “I do know that, I really do. But I also knew that you’d be able to do both. The Chargers are your family too and—”

A contraction creeped up on you, leaving you to hold onto your husband’s forearms with a sharp sound of pain, the pressure reaching an overwhelming peak that you hadn’t experienced before.

“Squeeze as much as you want, it’s okay.” His voice attempts to soothe you but you couldn’t hear him over the animalistic grunt that escaped you. Your body tensed involuntarily and he could see your stomach hardening as the tension continued to build. There was nothing more he could do than hold you through it, until something gave way and the floodgates opened…literally.

Even he sounded breathless by the end of it. “Your water just broke.”

Sunday 10pm

Contractions in the house were terrible. But contractions in the car, with no cushion from the water bag made it feel like she was right between your legs.

“Justin, you have to go faster. Please.” You panted out, desperately clutching the grab handle and leaning your head back with a loud moan. “Can you turn on the air, I’m dying in here. And I need to put the seat back, my back is killing me, I’m sorry.” You felt like a turtle stuck on its back, waiting for someone to turn it over and set it free.

“Yeah, yeah do whatever you need. And you don’t need to apologize,” he pats you on the leg, “do whatever makes you comfortable, we’ll be there soon.” He kept looking between you and the road, slightly worried that he’d have to deliver the baby in the car. The only thing that slightly reassured him the whole drive was your sigh of relief when the fan came on. First babies were supposed to take a while but he’d missed the entirety early labor, so from the sounds that he was hearing he figured you were in or at the very least extremely close to the transition stage. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and remained that way until the birthing center came into view. Your parents had called ahead and would meet you there when given the word, so all you had to do was check in and you were brought to your private suite.

Seven centimeters dilated and without painkillers made your husband question any football toughness he thought he had. You were so close to meeting your baby and he was a mix of anxiousness, nerves and excitement. Most of all he felt so much love and admiration for your determination and strength. Holding off on telling him you were in labor so he could be there to get the job done with his teammates was one thing and it was a complete whirlwind to be there with you while you worked to bring your baby into the world.

Once he was finally able to tear his eyes off the baby’s heart monitor, all of his focus was back on you. He wasn’t going to say anything but the agony in your voice was really starting to take a toll on him. Months of mental preparation for this moment was nothing like the real thing and he felt utterly helpless, desperately trying to maintain some sort of control and be helpful in any way.

“Honey you’re shaking, are you cold?” Without even giving you time to answer he was up on his feet, reaching for his bag to grab the blanket he’d seen you drape over yourself on several movie night occasions.

You shake your head while your teeth continue to chatter, reaching for his left hand, “I think it’s the adrenaline. I’m okay I promise,” you shift uncomfortably in bed, trying to just go along with how your body is feeling and reacting. Your belly tightens, a white hot pain generating an unexpected moan as you palmed your stomach. Justin places his hand on top of yours, whispering to you that the contraction is almost over and constantly reminding you that you’re doing great.

The two of you decided to use gravity to your advantage and walk around the building since the entire floor was closed off at your husband’s request. He couldn’t risk anyone leaking the most private and cherished moment in his life.

“I can’t believe this is our last night as a duo.” Justin whispers, walking at a snail’s pace while you waddled alongside him. “It’s been a great ride, pal.”

“Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. And I have a feeling this ride is going to get a lot more interesting from here on out.” You gave your belly a soothing pat.

He strokes your back as you sway your hips again, “thank you for choosing me to be the one that gets to do this with you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, more than anything in the world.” You grin, pulling him in for a soft kiss. His hand cups your face as he pulls you in even closer. The kiss oozed joy and gratitude. Your husband wasn’t a man of many words, but his actions spoke volumes.

You squeeze his arm again suddenly as pain bubbles deep in your core and you rip yourself away from him to press your lips together to stifle a yell. “We need to get back to the room. Now.”

The noises leaving your body would have horrified you if you weren’t already sitting backwards on the toilet wearing only an oversized t-shirt, with your legs spread and the man of your dreams digging his thumbs into your back. “Harder please,” you groan, feeling like your tailbone is seconds away from shattering.

“I’m not getting a break,” you cry, clenching your jaw, leaning back and asking him to help you up. He hooks his hands under your arms and basically lifts you to your feet. “It’s not stopping, I can’t—oh fuck.” It felt like you were going to throw up, but out of the other end, which could only mean one thing. “She’s—Justin she’s coming right now. I have to push.” You took a breath and focused completely inward, your entire body going rigid, shaky straining sounds of effort pouring out of you.

The quarterback immediately sprang into action,“easy babe, breathe. I’ve got you.”

You held onto one of his hands and moved into a squat on your shaky legs as he pressed the red button on the side of the bathroom door, allowing your midwife to come in.

The baby felt like it was seconds away from falling out, everything suddenly feeling like it was moving a mile a minute. The midwife was saying something but the ringing in your ears was so loud you couldn’t focus on anything but getting your baby delivered.

After another throaty shove, you came back to yourself a little, feeling a gentle hand rubbing your shoulder. “Babe? You gotta slow down. Take a second, I can already see her a little bit you can give yourself some time.”

“I can’t, the pressure is too much!” Tucking your chin to your chest, you let out a yelp as you push again, using him as a solid wall to rest against as you spread your legs to give your baby more room. “Holy fuck your baby is huge,” your husband and the midwife both laugh, “I’m sorry it’s just—this is really hard.”

Pushing felt good, even though it left you shaking like a leaf in a cold and sweaty frenzy. At some point during the delivery he’d pushed your hair back with his lucky headband that was always around his wrist if it wasn’t on his head. It was the most intense experience of your life but you took one look at those bright green eyes and he reminded you that he was with you the entire time and you knew you could do anything with him by your side.

Remington Grace Herbert was born Monday morning at 1:42am with those exact same eyes that you fell in love with.

“Hi Remi,” Justin sobs, kissing her cheek. “We’ve been waiting for you, baby girl.”

“She sure knows how to make an entrance.”

You hand her off to her dad after scooting over to give him more room on the bed. He wraps a free arm around you, securely holding her in his other one, totally in awe. “She’s so perfect. You’re perfect. You did so amazing, I’m so freaking proud of you.” He kisses the side of your head.

You cuddle into him with a content sigh, “Our perfect little duckling is finally here.”

[mymindisneverhere]

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Part Nine

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, SMUT, explicit language, lots of dialogue, (forgive me if I missed any)

heads up: 10.6k word count 

Masterlist

*1 Year Later* 

“30 minutes until we open the doors Ms. MacArthur.” The waitress announced, knocking on the door to get Khloé’s attention. 

“Thank you Jess!” Khloé nodded and returned her attention back down to her hands. 

Khloé stared at the framed document she held in her hands. A small smile on her face as she eyed the certificate that had her name signed in bold font. 

St. Claire Culinary Institute

Associate of Arts

“Khloé Rose MacArthur” 

She had done it. After all of those long nights spent studying, learning new techniques, preparing all sorts of dishes, she had finally received her Degree in Culinary Arts. A feeling of pride overcame her as she continued staring at her degree. 

She hung it up right above her office desk that sat in the very back of the restaurant. With just a few more minutes until her grand opening, she was completely content sighing in satisfaction as she took a seat in the large office chair. 

Khloé had dedicated one whole year to getting her life on track to where she wanted it to be. Enrolling into culinary school once again, her credits from the years before rolling over into a new semester helped her to get her degree as soon as she could. She joined her local yoga and pilates classes and spent time with the ones who understood her most, her father and her sister. Dedicating time and energy to the ones who poured into her the most had done her justice. This was just the reset she needed. 

The night she cried herself to sleep was an awakening for her. Everything didn’t necessarily fall into place right away but she knew she didn’t want the rest of her life to go the way it had been going. She had been clear on what she wanted from here on out. A life full of no regrets and genuine happiness.

Although she had made it clear to her sister that she was done dating, Kandance still did what she could to convince Khloé to get back into dating again. Kandace respected Khloés commitment to achieving her goals but she knew how badly Khloé desired to be loved by the “perfect” man. 

“I’m not interested in dating right now Kandace.” 

“I’m focused on myself right now, I don’t have time for men.” 

This was her response each time Kandace would bug her about her dating life. No matter how hard Kandace tried, Khloé didn’t budge. She was completely caught up in herself. Everyday she woke up, she made sure to do something that would get her closer to where she wanted to be and after twelve months of hard work and some financial help from her father she was preparing to open up her first place. 

Khloé spent everyday searching for the right chefs, the perfect waiters and waitresses and the perfect hostess to help run her restaurant. After months of research she had finally crafted the perfect crew and she was ready to launch the grand opening of her place, “The Velvet Rose”. 

“Everything is set and ready to go Ms. MacArthur.” Olivia stated, entering Khloés office.

Olivia had been the last person on her list to receive an apology that was well overdue. She had to admit to her that although she didn’t want to hear any of what Olivia had said to her when she came to her apartment just a year ago, she needed that wake up call. They sat and talked about the last few years they spent with each other and how they wanted the years to come to be.  

Olivia listed her demands to Khloé stating that she no longer wanted to be treated as if she was beneath her. Olivia wanted to feel equal to Khloé not because of Khloés status but because of the relationship that they had with each other. She had been there for all of Khloés terrible breakups, bad business moves and constant arguments with her family. Olivia felt she deserved to be treated with respect and Khloé agreed without fuss. After everything was said and done, Khloé asked Olivia to be her restaurant manager and Olivia gladly accepted.

“Liv I told you, you don’t have to keep calling me that.” Khloé said. “You’re the manager, we’re a team.” 

“I know, but it bothers you so I’ll keep doing it.” Olivia joked, sticking her tongue out before leaving the office.

Khloé rolled her eyes and stood from her seat. Turning to step in front of the full body mirror she kept against the office door, stared at her reflection in the mirror. The gold dress she wore was specifically picked by her to help go with the theme of her restaurant. Her hair was pressed straight and tucked behind her ears, giving her a simple yet elegant look. The blonde highlights her stylist suggested meshed well with her skin tone and her attire for the night. 

She smiled at her reflection and took a deep breath before leaving her office and entered the dining area of the restaurant. The place was decorated with small tables near the entrance for the parties of two, large booths along the center wall for parties of four to six and a large table at the very back for even larger parties. Warm shades of gold and bright white filled the room as she walked through, inspecting each corner of the restaurant. The walls were covered in golden dim lights that gave the space a romantic and cozy feel. 

Each table had a small candle in the center along with a few white roses in a vase, to further embrace the romantic ambience Khloé wanted to spread throughout the entire eatery. Large bouquets of white roses sat right at the entrance with a smaller version decorating the hostess podium. The place had Khloés luxurious taste written all over, topping it off with a live jazz band dressed in all white attire. 

“Attention everyone!” Khloé announced, causing the crew to stop what they were doing and look her way.

The small group of waiters and waitresses stood in front of her dressed in white dress shirts, black ties and dress pants with small aprons around their waists. Two hostesses dressed in white dresses and pumps to match stood side by side awaiting her announcement. 

The kitchen chefs, along with the head chef, made their way from the kitchen and stood together, dressed in their uniforms slightly similarly to the waiters with their names embroidered on their shirts. 

Khloé eyed her team proudly as they stood awaiting further instruction. Everyone looked as if they belonged, like they were a team. The uniforms and the color coordinated outfits tied the whole place together and Khloé couldn’t be more excited to let the guests experience the food and the atmosphere. 

“There will be a full house tonight so I expect everyone to get all of their nerves out now because once those doors open, it’s showtime.” Khloé spoke, her voice full of authority but laced with just a hint of grace. “I want to thank you guys for being here with me. You could’ve gone anywhere else to share your talents but you chose to be here and for that I am forever grateful.” 

The team nodded as they smiled to each other, truly excited for their opening night. 

“Now, let’s have a great first night!” With that, everyone dispersed, taking their places and preparing for the crowd. 

Khloé walked to the front doors with Olivia and took in her surroundings, feeling a large sense of gratitude as she admired the first thing she could actually call hers. 

“They’re lining up outside Ms. MacArthur.” Olivia announced, staring out of the window at the line of people that traveled a mile down the sidewalk. 

“Let them in.” Khloé stated proudly. 

Olivia pushed the large doors open and within minutes people were filling the seats, looking over the menu for the night and ordering drinks. The room was filled with light conversation, greetings and soft jazz setting the tone for a grown and sexy feel. 

The smooth sounds of a saxophone rang out into the room from up front as guests entered. The dress code was elegant and formal. There weren’t necessarily restrictions on what could and could not be worn however the ambience set the perfect tone for the attire. 

Khloé had invited the most important people she knew to her big night. Her sister, her father, her aunts and uncles, popular influencers in the city, well known food critics and the most successful business owners in the town. 

Getting the word out about her place was her number one goal but sharing her night with the ones she cared for most was right after. She slowly walked around the place, greeting each guest and thanking them for coming. She made her way to one of the tables suited for large parties where her family had taken their seats, laughing and conversing with one another. 

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur stood, placing a soft kiss on Khloé’s cheek and pulling her into a warm hug. “I am beyond proud of you, this place looks great.”

“Thank you daddy.” Khloé responded with a smile. 

She spoke to the rest of her family, sharing laughs and small conversation until her eyes landed on an unfamiliar woman. Instantly spotting the resemblance, her breath caught in her throat as she eyed her. 

“Khloé, this is my mother Katherine, mom this is my sister Khloé.” Kandace said. 

“Oh my God.” Khloé gawked at the sight of the woman, practically sharing the same face as Kandace. Her beautiful bronze skin, her jet black hair and big beautiful smile just like her sister. “It is so nice to meet you.” 

Katherine stood and hugged Khloé. “You as well Khloé, Kandace has told me so much about you. Congratulations honey!” 

“Thank you.” Khloé said, placing a hand over her heart.

Khloé sat with her family expressing her gratitude and appreciation before getting up and visiting the guests once again, being sure to get their reviews on the food, the drinks and the service. 

The night was going so smoothly. The room was filled with laughter, good music and amazing food. Olivia had suggested that Khloé should only serve a limited amount of items on the menu just to be sure that the wait wouldn’t be too long for the guests. Together they picked the special dishes that would give the guests some insight on what to expect from the restaurant's full menu once they had gone completely public. 

From the looks of how things were flowing so effortlessly, that was the best idea for the night. 

“Excuse me, if I could have everyone’s attention please.” Olivia’s voice echoed throughout the speakers as she held the microphone to her lips. “I’d like to bring the owner, Ms. Khloé MacArthur, up to the stage to say a few words.” 

Everyone applauded as Khloé made her way to the front of the restaurant. The gold dress she wore shined under the soft lighting, accompanied by the beautiful honey blonde shade in her hair, she looked as if she was glowing. She carefully made her way up on the stage and grabbed the microphone from Olivia, clearing her throat before speaking. 

“Good evening everyone and thank you all for coming to the grand opening of The Velvet Rose.” Applause filled the room as she smiled, slightly blushing from the attention she was getting. 

“This has truly been a journey for me. If I'm honest this was probably the scariest thing that I’ve ever done in my life but it is the most gratifying. To see my vision, my dream come true in real time and to be able to share it with the most amazing people that I know is truly an honor for me. I hope you all enjoy the food, enjoy the drinks and the lovely music and again thank you so much for coming.” 

With that Khloé returned the microphone to its stand and carefully walked down from the stage as the room erupted in applause once more. Before she could even make it to the floor Olivia had stopped her in her tracks. 

“There’s a guest complaining about the valet parking outside, I think you may want to handle this.” Olivia spoke quickly, a bit of worry in her tone. 

Khloé nodded and made her way to the front doors, pushing through them. Her head immediately snapped to the right where the parking lot was but the valet sat unbothered, not busy with anyone or any cars. 

“I was hoping I could get a tour.“ The sound of his voice caused her heart to skip a beat. “That is if you have room for me on the guest list.” 

She didn’t bother to turn around, she couldn’t turn around. Her feet were glued in place as she remembered the comfort that the voice had brought her so long ago. Her breathing began to increase as she mustered up the strength to turn and face him. 

Finally swallowing the lump in her throat, she lifted her dress a bit and slowly turned around. They stood just a few feet away from each other but the impact of their presence was heavy for the both of them. 

Terry stood there with a large bouquet of white roses in his hand. He was dressed in an all black tuxedo, a small chain hanging from his neck and a watch to match. His hair was freshly cut as was his goatee. He stood eyeing her with his bedroom eyes, noticing the expression in her face soften as she stared at him. 

He walked to her, keeping his gaze on hers as he got closer to her. Each step he took, she thought her heart would beat out of her chest. Her eyes trailed down his body to his feet and back up to his face. He was still so damn fine, finer than he was when she left him in Summers' living room just a year prior. 

“Hi.” Terry greeted, staring down at her. 

“Hi.” Khloé stared up at him, instantly gaining all of the feeling she had neglected in the last year right in between her legs. 

They sat in silence for a while before either one of them spoke again. Khloé was feeling too many things at once. She was already on a high from the opening of her restaurant and now standing in front of the only man she truly ever loved had her feeling like she was floating on a cloud. 

“These are for you.” Terry smiled, handing her the roses. 

“Thank you.” She smiled nervously, grabbing them before staring back up at him. “What are you doing here?” She instantly regretted asking that question, causing her to stumble over her words. She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t happy to see him but she was still very curious as to why he was there. 

“I mean not like, in a bad way, like I don’t want you to be here, but-“ She took a deep breath, calming her nerves before finishing.” I just didn’t expect to see you tonight or…” 

“Ever?” Terry asked, finishing her sentence for her. 

Khloé looked down at her feet contemplating what she would say next. The past twelve months were solely for her, not a man, not a friend, not her family, not even her mother but her. Although she would constantly tell her sister she wasn’t thinking about a man or dating whatsoever, she would secretly pray that one day she would be with him again. 

However Khloé refused to force their connection so she avoided going to the warehouse, she never visited that part of town for anything and she decided not to visit Summer again because there was no need to. 

Two months turned into four and then four turned into eight and she still had yet to cross paths with him so she accepted that maybe he wasn’t the man for her after all. She wanted to believe in fate similar to fairytale stories she read as a child. Believing that no matter where in the world you went or what conflict had taken place between man and woman, if they were meant to be together fate would magically merge their paths. 

Khloé hoped she would run into him at a grocery store or the bank, somewhere they didn’t plan on seeing each other but somehow ended up at the same place, at the same time. When time passed and she had yet to run into her dream guy again, her belief in the fairytale began to fade. So becoming focused on herself became even easier because she had no more energy left to manifest such a cliché interaction. 

But here he was standing in front of her on the biggest night of her life. Not because she paid him to be there or because “fate” brought them together but because he simply chose to be there. 

“I bumped into your sister as I was leaving the warehouse at the Garland location.” Terry started. “She told me about this grand opening being hosted by you and I immediately thought ‘Wow, she did it.’” 

Khloé blushed a bit at that last part.

“So I wanted to come and congratulate you in person.”  

“Thank you Terry.” Khloé smiled. 

“You’re welcome Ms. MacArthur.” 

She blushed once more at the sound of that name on his lips. When Olivia said it, it reminded her of the years she treated Olivia like she was less than. When Terry said it, it reminded her of comfort and certainty, something she didn’t realize she had missed until now. 

The two sat in an awkward silence both unsure of what to say next. Khloé felt a bit silly for being so nervous in front of a man that had seen her in every way imaginable. The longer she sat the more she wondered what life had been like for him in the last year. She could clearly see a difference in him. His look was different, his normal stern expression had slightly faded and he was dressed in a tuxedo. It was clear to her that he had gone through some sort of transformation as well. 

“Wait, why were you at the Garland location? What happened to Greenville?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. 

“I just accepted a new role there.” Terry began. “I started about three months ago.” 

Khloé’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? What position?” 

“Senior Operations Manager.” 

“Oh my God, that’s so good! I’m so happy for you!” She exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. Her excitement caused him to chuckle a bit. “But that's a far drive from where you live, you commute an hour and a half everyday?”

“I moved about fifteen minutes away from the job not too long after I took the role.” 

“Oh wow.” Khloé said. She stared up at him in astonishment. Here she was getting her life together, evolving in every way she could and so was he. “So much has happened since we last saw each other.” 

“I don’t know if it’s too late for me to say this but-“ Terry started, placing a hand to the back of his head to calm his nerves. “I really missed you Khloé.” 

Khloé’s breath caught in her throat at the admission. “I missed you too.” 

“The day you left Summers place, it was hard for me to keep busy. I wanted to talk to you everyday but I didn’t want to interrupt your process or interfere with the time you needed so I decided to be patient.” He said, placing his hands in his pockets. “To be honest I was scared someone else had come into your life and it was too late for us to try again.”

“I was just trying to become the woman that I needed to be for myself. I thought that if we were supposed to be together, that somehow fate would bring us together and we would.” Khloé spoke softly. “I wanted to see you too but I didn’t know if I would be forcing it or not so I just decided against it.”

Terry nodded, a small moment of silence falling between the two of them again. He looked over to stare at the bright sign above Khloé’s restaurant, a way to avoid the awkwardness that fell between them. Khloé stared down at the ground wondering if she had said the wrong thing. It wasn’t like she had given up on them but at the same time she kind of did. 

“Goodnight Khloé, the food was bomb girl! I’m gonna tag you on Instagram!” A woman announced as she exited the restaurant, a to-go container in hand. 

Guests were beginning to leave one by one, complementing Khloé and congratulating her as they made their way to the valet. 

“Thank you guys so much, come back and see us!” She said, waving as the last few guests left, leaving only her family in the restaurant. 

She turned her attention back to Terry and saw the discomfort in his face. The man who was once so damn good at hiding his feelings was doing a terrible job at this moment. 

“If you have some time, I’d love to show you the place.” Khloé suggested. “I can have my chef cook something for you, I wanna know what you think of the food.”

Terry looked down at her and smiled before walking over to the large doors and pulling it open for Khloé to enter. “After you.” 

They made their way into the restaurant and she led him to the back of the seating area, a small booth sat clean and empty and they took a seat on each side. Khloé looked up at Terry as he maneuvered into the booth. She watched him as he took in his surroundings.  

“This is really nice Khloé.” Terry looked around the place, admiring the interior. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Thank you, it took a while but we’re here.” Khloé said, placing the large bouquet of roses in the seat right next to her. 

“I’m really proud of you Khloé.” He said, his eyes finally landing on hers. 

“Thank you.” 

“Terrance.” Mr. MacArthur called out, walking over to the booth they occupied. “It’s good to see you again son.” 

“Mr. MacArthur, good to see you as well sir.” Terry stood, shaking the older man’s hand. 

Khloé looked on in confusion as Terry and her father fell into casual conversation, catching up for lost time. The moment it was brought to her fathers attention that Terry was a worker, her dad called her later that evening to give her some words about the entire ordeal. Ones that weren’t that nice. So to see him conversing with Terry as if he was no longer bothered by it threw her for a loop. 

“Congratulations on the senior position.” Mr. MacArthur said. 

“Thank you sir, I appreciate it.” Terry grinned humbly. 

“Keep it up and you’ll be coming for my spot next.” The two men laughed as Khloé continued to watch in confusion. 

“We’re gonna head out princess, you enjoy your first night in your place.” Her father said bending down to kiss her forehead. “I’m proud of you. Call me when you make it home.”

The rest of her family stopped by the booth to greet Terry and say their goodbyes before exiting, leaving Terry and Khloé alone. 

“Here you are sir, The Rosewood Rack comes with a rosemary crusted rack of lamb, a side of truffle mashed potatoes and garlic sautéed broccolini.” The waitress by the name of Jessica announced, placing the warm plates in front of Terry as she read off the chef's special. “And a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon for you as well sir, enjoy.” 

“Thank you.” Terry looked on with a slightly shocked expression on his face. “This entree describes you to a T.” 

Khloé laughed as he dug into his food, taking small bites of each dish before giving her a review. 

“This is delicious, honestly.” He said, not letting up from any of the food that sat in front of him. “I’m not even a lamb type of guy but this is good.” 

“I’m so glad you like it.” She started, “I know how much you love a hearty meal so I wanted to make sure they prepared something that would satisfy you just right.” 

Terry looked up at her as she said those last few words. The dim lighting, the candles, and the soft music that continued to play set the perfect mood for this moment after not seeing each other for a year. They jumped into long conversation, both informing the other about how life had been for the last twelve months. 

Khloé began telling him about the aftermath that followed the dinner where the family secret was revealed. She went on to tell him about how her mother refused to take any accountability for what she had done to Katherine and that eventually she moved out of the family house. 

Angela was convinced that everything she did was supposed to be done and there was no wrong in how she went about it. She was waiting for Khloé and John to come around begging for her forgiveness. However John was no longer interested in keeping up a facade for the sake of reputation. He had earned his living rightfully and there was nothing that would take away the love he had for his daughters or his business. 

Khloé told Terry all about the time she spent in therapy, the long hours she spent studying and how much time went into securing her restaurant. She admitted to him that even during the times she was focusing on herself, her mind would always wander off to thoughts and memories of the two of them together. She wanted him to know that although she was truly working on herself, she still craved him in every way imaginable. 

“Why not just come by the job?” Terry asked, genuine confusion written in his expression. 

“I just kept feeling like I was forcing you to be with me and I didn’t want to do that. So I wanted to avoid you at all costs.” She admitted. “I had this weird belief that if we were meant to be then we’d cross each other's paths in a more authentic way.” 

Terry nodded slowly, somewhat understanding her but not totally. While Khloé still believed in her fairytales, Terry was very much grounded in reality. Sometimes too grounded in reality, not allowing himself enough space to dream or remain optimistic about the possible relationship he could have with Khloé. He didn’t believe in living life on what ifs, he needed total security and if he didn’t have it then he would have to move on. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind always found its way back on Khloé. 

Terry went on to tell her how moving up in the company was the best thing that had happened to him. The pay raise, the benefits and the business trips that came with the position, had him overwhelmed with gratitude. He let her know that at times he would become too busy, trying yet again to get rid of any memory he had of her. A simple attempt to protect himself from suffering a loss and not wanting to accept that she had completely moved on.

“But I’m not with anyone Terry, I did this for myself.” Khloé spoke honestly. 

“I know but I guess I just thought that you’d either meet someone or you’d never want to be with anyone else ever again.” Terry said. 

“Why did you think I wouldn’t want to be with anyone ever again?” 

“Because the look on your face when you walked out on me, you didn’t look at me the same way you did before.” He stated. “It was like I could see a wall being built right at that moment. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get past it.” 

Khloé stared at him and he stared back at her. 

“You’ll always get past it.” She stated bluntly. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but everyone’s got a soft spot for someone. You happen to be my someone, just like I am for you.” 

Terry’s eyebrows bent at the statement. He was determined to deny what she was saying because he didn’t think it was true whatsoever. Did he care for her deeply? Absolutely. But Terry could never allow himself to be soft for anyone. 

“The way you tore into me back at my condo, the way you looked at me when I tried to touch you to prevent you from leaving, if you weren't soft for me you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d be done with me.” Khloé started, “But you’re not because you can’t be.” 

Terry stared at her as she continued talking. 

“For a while I thought Summer was your soft spot but I realized she’s not. She is a safe space for you but she’s not the person who gets to push your buttons and still be loved by you.” She watched as his expression softened a bit. “I’m not the only one who tries to play tough Mr. Richmond.” 

It had been a minute since he had heard her say his name like that. The sound of his name leaving her lips made him feel some things he hadn’t felt in a while. Noticing the slight change in his breathing, Khloé smirked as she grabbed his wine glass and took a sip. She had done the work to heal but the seductress in her could never leave, she just did a better job at taming it. Truth is, she would always enjoy seeing the effect she had on men in real time. 

“You don’t drink anyway, you don’t need this.” Khloé said, a bit of her bossy attitude showcasing itself in a quick moment. 

He felt his dick jump as he continued staring at her, watching the glass leave her lips as she tilted her head slightly. The instant memories of those same lips damn near bringing him to his knees had his eyes stuck on them. He didn’t want to be the guy who just popped back into her life hoping to get some but he couldn’t deny the way she was making him feel. It felt like meeting her all over again, getting lost in her lips, forgetting they were in the middle of a conversation. 

“Cat got your tongue Mr. Richmond?” She asked, smirking at him. 

His eyes darted back up to hers before responding. “No ma’am.” He said, watching her shift in her seat. Going from poised to bothered in a split second. She wasn’t the only one picking up on the small cues that were happening beyond their will. 

“You missed me that much?” He smirked. 

Khloé placed the wine glass on the table and leaned forward, placing her forearms over one another as she locked her eyes onto his. 

“You wanna stay here all night or do you wanna find out just how much?” Khloé asked, her gaze shifting between his eyes and his lips. 

The sounds of heavy breathing and light moans filled the room as they kissed each other, tripping over their feet, making up for all the time they lost. They had raced to Terry’s apartment and wasted no time falling into their usual rhythm once they shut the door. Terry swiftly pulled off his suit jacket and returned back to Khloé’s lips, backing her further into the apartment. 

Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to get a better feel of his tongue on hers. Moaning into his mouth she stepped back as they continued tussling with each other's lips. 

“Take this off.” Terry murmured in between kisses, yanking at Khloé’s dress. 

“Unzip it.” She said, finally breaking their kiss and turning her back to him. 

He quickly pulled the zipper down the back of her dress and watched it fall to the ground. Stepping out of it, she turned to him, dressed in only her underwear. Khloé wasn’t a shy woman but she was feeling herself shrink under his gaze once her body was exposed. However Terry’s usual stoic stare had shifted into desire as he studied her body, the one he hadn’t touched in so long. 

She had gained a little weight but for Terry it had been in all the right places. Her hips were a bit wider and her thighs were thicker, the way her panties sat right at the base of her hips brought out every curve in her body. He was feening for her in the worst way and she didn’t even know how bad. 

“Fuck I missed you.” He spat, crossing the room quickly. In one swift motion, he picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. 

She pressed her lips against his, kissing and sucking on his tongue as he walked her into his bedroom. The view of the busy freeway provided a hint of light in the room as he laid her on the bed. 

Reaching down to lift the long sleeve turtle neck he wore above his head, Khloé sat up and watched him as he came out of the sweater. Her eyes roamed over his torso, the sight of him alone had her growing wetter by the second. 

‘Did he get bigger?’ She thought to herself, noticing the increase of muscle in his arms and strong definition in his chest. 

He leaned down to kiss her once more, lightly pushing her onto her back. He placed kisses along her neck, the sounds of her moaning in his ear causing him to moan as well. Terry was moving fast, his hunger for her taking over as he roughly sucked on her neck. 

“Terry wait.” She said as she let out a breath, placing her hands on his chest signaling for him to sit up. 

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at her frowning, trying hard to read her expression.

“Nothing, it’s just,” She started, eyes darting around the room before landing on his. “I’m a bit nervous.” 

Terry chuckled lightly, finding it hard to believe that the woman who enjoyed tying him up and draining him dry had become so nervous all of sudden. “I’ve already seen every part of you, what’s making you so nervous now?”

She took a deep breath and paused for a bit before finally saying the words, “I love you.” 

The admission caught Terry off guard. He could sense her anxiousness as she stared up at him. The Khloé he was used to was fearless, there wasn’t anything that came out of her mouth with hesitation. The Khloe he knew didn’t stumble over her words or have a hard time finding them either. But this new Khloé was very different. Still her usual bossy self but a bit more cautious with her words and her tone of voice. 

He could tell she was desperately waiting for his response as her eyes pieced into his. Her eyebrows bent slightly as she began to grow impatient. 

“I love you too.” He finally responded, a heavy weight lifting off of his shoulders after holding onto that truth for so long. 

Khloé’s eyes softened, her features relaxing and returning back to normal as she let out the breath she had been holding. She continued staring up at him without saying a word. There was a genuineness behind the words that left his lips. It didn’t feel like he was saying it just to lessen her worry or try to continue on with having sex with her. She could sense his relief as he spoke those same words back to her. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked softly. 

“No!” She answered a bit too quickly. “I don’t want you to just fuck me though. I guess I want…” She trailed off. 

“Me to make love to you.” He finished. 

She nodded her head. Placing a soft kiss on her lips, he slowly lifted off of the bed and held his hand out for her to take. She grabbed it and stood in front him. Turning her around, she faced the large window and closed her eyes, preparing to actually be handled with care for the first time. 

Terry moved her hair to the side away from her neck and placed soft kisses along her shoulder. Each kiss was placed with purpose and intention. Her breath hitched as she felt his lips on her, the slow movement making her grow anxious with every touch. He made his way up to her neck and noticed her breathing stop. He knew she was nervous but he wanted to reassure her that there was no reason to be. 

“Relax.” He suggested, his voice deep yet soft in her ear. “I got you.” 

Letting out the breath she had been holding in, she slowly dropped her shoulders. She unclenched her jaw and closed her eyes, letting her head fall slowly against his chest. The feeling of his lips were slowly chipping at her nerves, eventually clearing them altogether. 

He ran his hands across her stomach, pulling her deeper into him. The warmth of her body against his chest, the way she ran her fingers against his arms, felt serene for him. Still placing kisses against her shoulder, he dropped his hand into the crotch of her panties and dipped his finger in between her folds. She was so wet for him, she had been since they agreed to leave the restaurant and head to his place. 

He ran his free hand up her torso and played with her nipple, rolling it in between his thumb and index finger. Khloés body pressed against his even more as she squirmed in his arms. He moaned in her ear, feeling her hips rub against his bulge. 

“Terry…” She moaned above a whisper, feeling him play with her sensitive clit and nipples caused her to close her eyes.

“You want me to stop?” He asked, the question was obviously rhetorical but he loved to hear the eagerness in her voice. 

“No.” She breathed out. 

Terry continued kissing along his shoulders up her neck and stopped at her jaw. Her head moved effortlessly as he trailed up her neck, so caught up in the pleasure, she was almost melting into his arms. 

He didn’t want her to cum just yet but he made sure to build her up just enough so that when he finally entered her, she’d be dripping like a faucet. 

“Tell me how you want it.” He remembered how much she loved to be in charge, one of the many things he adored most about her. Increasing his speed purposely so she’d struggle as she answered the question.

“Ummm.” She moaned, eyes still rolling into her head as he pinched her nipples tightly, still working her clit over. 

“Tell me baby.” 

“S-stomach.” 

He chuckled lightly at her stutter, feeling himself while he had her somewhat at his mercy. Finally pulling his fingers from her lower set, he pushed them into her mouth and watched as she sucked them, moaning from the taste of herself. 

“You ready?”

Khloé nodded her head, still resting her weight against him. Turning them both so that they were facing the bed, he pushed her panties down to her ankles. 

“Lay down.” He instructed. 

She licked her lips and crawled onto the bed, laying flat on her stomach and resting on her elbows. He removed the thin fabric from around her ankles and tossed them before undoing his pants. Getting completely undressed, he crawled onto the bed, stopping to place kisses on the back of her thighs, up her ass and continued up her back. She bit her lip as she felt him against her skin, each kiss causing a soft moan to escape her lips. 

Finally reaching the side of her face, he placed kisses along her jaw as he ran his dick against her wet entrance. 

“Can you go slow please?” She asked softly, “It’s been a while for me.” She turned her head to meet his eyes, their faces just a few inches from each other. 

“Yes ma’am.” He responded. 

He ran his dick through her folds once more before pausing at her entrance. His eyes were glued to hers, not wanting to miss any of the expressions on her face no matter how big or small. Carefully pushing himself just a few inches into her, he watched as her jaw dropped, the sounds or her gasping loudly made him clench his jaw. He loved the faces she made whenever they had sex, they were so damn beautiful.

“Can I move?” He asked. 

“Yes!” She moaned, a bit more aggressive than she intended. 

Terry pushed himself all the way into her, pressing his hips flat against her ass. Both of his hands rested next to her elbows as he held himself up. He dropped his head onto hers taking in how tight she was, afraid he wouldn’t last as long as he planned to. She cooed as she felt all of him at once, inhaling deeply as he held himself in place. 

Lowering himself onto his elbows, he wrapped his arms around hers and intertwined their fingers. He rolled his hips slowly, giving her long strokes, as he dropped his chin into the crook of her neck. 

Khloé’s eyes rolled as her brows lifted, the side of her face was pressed against his, feeling his lips brush against her jaw. She was in total bliss feeling him for the first time in a long time. The way he thrusted in and out of her sent small shocks throughout her body every time he rubbed up against her spot. She moaned loudly, tightening the grip she had on his hands. He maintained his slow and steady strokes, kissing her cheek as he tried to keep himself from cumming too soon. 

“I missed you so much.” She cried, dragging her words as her jaw continued to fall open. 

“I missed you too baby.” He replied.

She continued to repeat herself over again, unable to mutter any new words due to the feeling of ecstasy invading her body. Her voice was doing a number on him, causing him to thrust into her even harder, increasing the pressure with each stroke. The harder he dug into her, the more vocal she became and this wasn’t helping him one bit. Cursing to himself, he pulled out of her, quickly stopping himself before he came too early. 

“Fuck.” He spat. 

Grabbing her hips, he flipped her on her back and smashed his lips into hers. She ran her hands down his face as they fell back into their usual rhythm with their tongues. Without warning, Terry pushed into her, every inch filling her suddenly until he couldn’t push any further. She could feel the pressure deep within the pit of her stomach, he was so big. 

Khloé moaned into his mouth, eventually giving up on the kiss because multitasking wouldn’t be easy for her to do at the moment. Pulling out of her with only his tip inside, he returned to giving her long strokes, this time a bit faster than before. 

He lifted one of her legs onto his shoulders and left the other on the bed. His eyes were locked onto hers as he dug into her, watching as they began to roll into her head. He took her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking it gently before he pulled back. 

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and focused them back on his. He stared down at her intently, studying her eyes with every stroke he gave her. Her eyebrows curled inward from the feeling brewing in the lower part of her stomach. The look in his eyes translated the emotion she had been dying to see in them since she first met him. His usual stoic expression had completely vanished.

Terry looked at her with pure adoration and genuine love expressed in his hazel eyes. Every bit of his movement had intention, he wanted to be sure that she could feel his love for her as he pleased her for the first time in over a year.

The way he rocked his hips into hers caused her to push up the bed slightly. He grabbed onto her hips and held her in place, still digging deep into her. She gasped, letting her eyelids fall low, desperately waiting for the orgasm to take over her body. 

“Don’t close ‘em, look at me.” He demanded softly, his voice just above a whisper. 

“I-“ Khloé started, opening her eyes once again. Her eyebrows lifted a bit as they stared at each other. 

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, still thrusting into her. He was aware of the effect his dick was having on her, he just wanted to hear her say it. 

“It feels so good.” She whined. 

Khloé had always enjoyed sex, particularly being fucked but she had yet to experience sex that included passion and intimacy. She was feeling so many things at once. Not only the feeling in between her legs that traveled to the pit of her belly but also the affection behind it. There was no competition to see who would make who fold first. The only goal was to translate the feelings he had for her through this moment they had both been secretly waiting for. 

“You love me?” Terry asked, placing a soft kiss at the corner of her lips. 

“Yes!” 

“I can’t handle you leaving me again.” He said honestly.  

“I won’t leave!” She cried. 

“Tell me you’re stayin’!” He could feel her getting wetter the more he spoke to her. It was only a matter of time before she would be cumming all over him and that was exactly what he wanted. 

“I’ll stay!” She moaned loudly. 

He kept placing kisses against her cheeks before dropping his head to the side of her face, pressing his lips against her ear. “You promise?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” She yelled, digging her manicured fingernails into his back. She clawed at him, attempting to pull him in closer as she came, her nails leaving small marks against his skin. “I’m cummin’!”

She held onto each him tightly, moaning and cursing loudly. Khloé’s legs shook around his waist while he continued stroking, making sure to get all of her. The sloshy sounds of her cumming on his dick had him pressing even harder into her. 

“Fuck, yessss!” She cried, marking his back up while she came. 

“I love you.” He said into her ear, finally pausing his movements to allow her body to carry out the rest of her climax. 

Her breath hitched as she embraced every emotion all at once. Still keeping her nails in his back she stared up at the ceiling as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Terry sat up and placed kisses against her cheek, noticing the tear that fell from the corner of her eye. 

“Say it.” Terry commanded. 

“I-I love you t-too.” She spoke in between breaths, body still feeling the effects of her orgasm. 

Terry kissed her softly along her jaw and neck until her body had completely returned to its relaxed state. Khloé finally looked up at him with heavy eyes. Usually she’d be the one causing a K.O. with her partners but it was her turn to receive all of that pleasure and more… and she did just that. 

Khloé’s head rested against Terry’s chest as the two of them laid together. He held onto her, arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she ran her thumb against the thin hairs on his chest. They laid like this in silence, soaking up the presence of one another, not wanting to let go of the other anytime soon. 

“Can I ask you something?” Khloé said, breaking the silence. 

“Of course.” 

“Does this mean we’re officially together or was this just a spur of the moment? You know, because we hadn’t seen each other in a while?” She was somewhat nervous about the answer. 

Although Terry didn’t seem like the type to just hit it and go on like nothing happened, she still needed to know where they stood with each other. 

“I meant what I said.” Terry started. “I can’t handle not being with you. Your presence alone fills me up. I want to know what’s going on with you at all times. I want to know when you’re upset, when you’re happy, when you’re scared, when you’re confused. I don’t wanna be without you again.” 

Khloé sat listening to him go on about how much she meant to him, every word securing her in the role she played in his life. She felt herself smiling against his chest, happy to hear that she was as important to him as he was to her. 

“Well you can’t get angry with me and shut me out for weeks at a time, I wanna know what you’re thinking too.” She spoke honestly. “Even if you’re not in the mood to talk, at least telling me that will make me feel better. I don’t wanna feel shut out by you again.” 

“I got you. However, you also have to talk to me Khloé. You can’t just make assumptions about how I’m feeling and let your emotions make decisions for you.” He said, rubbing his hand against her hips.

“It won’t happen again.” She said in a soft voice. 

“But above all, you’re mine and I’m yours, anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.” 

She sat up and rested on her chin as she looked at him “You promise?” 

“I promise.” He responded with a kiss on her forehead. 

“Good, I’m ready for round two. It’s my turn.” She said, cutting straight to the chase. She lifted up from his hold and straddled his waist, preparing to ride him until the sun came up.

Terry chuckled to himself appreciating the fact that after all this time, her sex drive never wavered. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Terry sat in his office, wrapping up his last zoom meeting before heading home for the day. The end of the months were always the busiest for him. Business calls, payroll, month end stats and having to prepare for the beginning of a new month. The only thing on his mind was having a nice meal after handling so much within eight hours of his work day. 

*Knock Knock* 

“Come in.” He announced without looking up. 

“Are you busy Mr. Richmond?” The familiar voice spoke, causing him to let out a quiet sigh of annoyance before responding. His name on her tongue just didn’t hit the same as it would when Khloé said it. 

“Yes I am, do you need something Nia?” He asked dryly, raising his brows as he looked up at her. 

“I was just wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner tonight?” She asked, walking further into his office. “My treat.” 

Nia had completely taken over Khloés job at the warehouse but not because she genuinely loved the family business. She wanted the man that came with it of course. There was never a day that went by that Nia wouldn’t find a reason to speak with Terry, even if it was something as small as the weather for the day. 

“The answer is still no Nia, but thank you.” He said, turning his attention to his computer. 

“Why do you play so damn hard to get?” Nia spat. She walked closer to his desk, leaning over the folders that laid across the top of it. “I know you like ‘em feisty, I know you like ‘em pushy and I know you like ‘em to be dominant. That's why you were with Khloé except she’s a fraud and I’m not. So what is it? You afraid of a real woman, Mr. Richmond?” 

Terry kept his eyes on his computer not bothering to further entertain Nia and her constant attempts at getting with him. 

“You tired ass bitch!” The voice shot through the room, causing Nia to spin around and Terry to snap his head in the direction it came from. 

Terry looked down at his watch, panicking once he realized he was supposed to meet Khloé outside so they could head to dinner together. He stood from his desk and quickly walked over to her. 

“I’m sorry baby, I had all of those meetings and I lost track of time.” He said, placing a kiss on her cheek. 

Khloé’s eyes never left Nia as Terry tried to pull her in for another kiss. 

“Give us a minute.” She spoke dryly, ignoring Terry’s attempt.

“But this is my office.” He said, jerking his head back a bit in confusion.  

Khloé looked up at him, the expression alone sending him the message loud and clear. Terry threw his hands up in defeat as he walked over to grab his cell phone and keys from the top drawer in his desk. 

“I’ll be outside.” 

Khloé stood there, LV hanging from her fingertips as she stared at Nia, disdain written on both of their faces. This was a standoff that had been well overdue. Between Nia's backhanded attempts to ruin her relationship with her mother and her relation with Terry, Khloé had waited for the right moment to deal with Nia face to face. 

As pathetic as Nia was, she remained persistent. Ruining Khloé’s relationship and spilling her business at the dinner table wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to put the nail in the coffin and Terry was her way to do it. The only problem was, he never paid her any attention unless it was strictly work related. After all of those failed attempts here she stood face to face with her competition who wasn’t even aware that they were competing with one another. 

“I could’ve sworn you were done faking your relationship with him, you’re still that desperate Khlo?” Nia smirked, fiddling with the papers on Terry’s desk. 

“Not as desperate as you. How many times have you asked him to dinner just to be rejected every time?” Khloé asked, tilting her head to the side. 

Nia scoffed, rolling her eyes as she looked to the side. 

“Look Nia, I’m not about to waste too much time on you cause you’re not worth it, even your own parents didn’t bother to waste a moment with you that’s why you’re so busy trying to steal mine.” Khloé shot, watching Nias nostrils flare from the comment. 

“Bitch you’ve got your nerve, did you forget I witnessed the fallout between you and your mother?” Nia shot back. 

“Yes I am aware, but at least she cared enough about me to at least be in my life. Where is yours?” Khloé asked, smiling slightly knowing she had hit a nerve. 

Nia stood silently, clenching her jaw as she tried to think of a rebuttal. 

“Exactly.” Khloé chuckled. “Now let me make something very clear to you, Terry and I are together, in real life. Not because I’m paying him but because he actually wants to be with me, but I’m sure you’re not familiar with that feeling. You know, actually being wanted.” 

Khloé went on. “But even if we weren’t together, you still couldn’t have him or any other man because you’re just not that girl. Hence why you’re begging to pay for his food everyday. So whatever you thought you were about to come in here and do, give it up.” 

Nia's blood was boiling as she stared Khloé down. The way Khloé stood there so carelessly, so unbothered by her presence had pissed Nia off to the point of no return. But there was nothing she could do about it because none of what Khloé said was false. 

Completely aware of Nia's anger, Khloé dug into her purse and grabbed her MAC Ruby Woo lipstick and her compact mirror. She applied the color effortlessly, seeing as though this had been her signature look for years. 

“Now, what I advise you to do is continue doing my old job and focus on figuring out why no one wants you.” Khloé said, popping her lips as she applied the final layer of the lipstick. “Try therapy or Jesus.”

Nias' lip twitched as she sat mugging Khloé, watching as she turned to leave Terry’s office. 

“Oh and do me a favor Imani?” Khloé began, turning to face Nia one last time. “Stop trying to be me so bad, because you can’t bitch.” 

With that Khloé walked out of the office, heading to her car where Terry stood waiting for her. Spotting her just a few feet away, he lifted his weight off of the car and opened the passenger door for Khloé to get in. 

“Everything good?” He asked, staring down at her as she strutted to the car. 

“Of course.” She placed a kiss on his lips and stepped into the passenger seat. “Let’s go.” 

The two of them made their way around the city, finally stopping at The Velvet Rose. Khloé suggested that they try some new restaurants downtown but Terry insisted on eating at her place. He honestly enjoyed the scenery, the ambience and the food. It was the perfect place for him to end a stressful workday with the woman he loved. 

“Pablo, do you mind if I step in here and prepare a meal for Terry and I? You can call it a night if you want, I’ll close the kitchen for you.” Khloé asked her head chef. 

“No ma’am, I don’t mind at all. ” He responded, moving around the kitchen to remove his apron and chef hat to grant her privacy as she prepared dinner. 

“Thank you Chef!” 

Terry sat back with his back pressed against the booth, tapping his leg to the rhythm of the music. Jazz was one of his favorite genres, the soft melodies, the smooth sounds of the instruments blended together always did the perfect job at helping him decompress after a stressful situation. 

After about thirty minutes in the kitchen, Khloé walked over to him with two plates in her hands. Finally reaching him, she placed the food down carefully before taking a seat in the booth beside him. 

“Why didn’t you have one of your waitresses bring the food out?” Terry asked, sitting up straight as he grabbed the silverware from the table. 

“I wanted to bring it.” She said, “Plus I cooked it so it’s only right that I bring it to you.” 

Khloé and Terry dug into their food as they engaged in deep conversation. Conversing about their future together, their individual goals and how they planned to spend the rest of their days. They spoke about their living situations and how neither of them were ready to completely move in together but loved the thought of being able to visit one another whenever they chose. 

Khloé had made it clear that she didn’t want to move in until she had a ring on her finger and Terry noted that for the future. She placed her fork down on her plate and looked over at as he devoured his food. 

“This may sound childish but the anniversary of the first date we went on is coming up soon.” Khloé smiled as she looked down at the food on her plate. 

“Why would that sound childish?” Terry asked. 

“I don’t know, I just assume only women should care about things like that.” 

“We should celebrate.” Terry said, taking a bite of steak. “Maybe go on our first vacation together.” 

Khloé looked up at him and a light bulb instantly went off in her head. “I wanna go to Japan. I’ve always wanted to go since Kandace went but I was afraid to go alone. What do you think?” 

“I think that’s the perfect place to go.”

The two immediately started planning for their trip out of the country. They discussed dates, flights, resort options and everything in between. Khloé was mostly excited about the trip, eagerly naming all of the cities she’d love to visit, Tokyo being at the top of her list. Terry pressed his back against the booth and looked at her, smolin to himself as she ranted about all of the things they could do together once they landed. 

Her excitement warmed his heart, seeing that she still lit up when she spoke to him about her dreams and plans for the future. Terry was so caught in his trance he hadn’t noticed that she stopped talking and was now staring back at him. 

“Why are you just staring at me?” Khloé asked shyly. 

Terry shook his head and placed the napkin from his lap onto the table. “I just missed this, that's all. I guess I’m just soaking up the moment as much as I can.” 

“I told you I’m not leaving again, we have plenty of more moments to come.” Khloé said. “Besides I’m just rambling like usual.” 

Terry wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, placing his lips against her temple. “I know but every moment is special to me, no matter how small it is. I like hearing you ramble.” 

Khloé stared up at him and smiled, feeling herself slowly melt into the seat beside him. They sat in each other's embrace 

The band began playing an instrumental version of For You by Kenny Latimore, the soft sounds of the saxophone and piano filled the space as they continued to stare at each other. 

“Dance with me, handsome.” Khloé suggested. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Terry grabbed her hand and walked her to the stage where the band sat. Lifting her arms above his shoulders, he rested his hands at her waist and they began to sway to the music. Khloé leaned her head forward and placed it against his shoulder, pressing her forehead into the crook of his neck. 

Khloé let herself sink into his arms placing most of her weight against him as they held onto one another. The band continued to play their own renditions of popular love songs, each musician playing their instrument with precision. Khloé closed her eyes as Terry rocked them softly side to side. She focused on the vibration of Terry’s voice rumbling against her temple, humming the melodies of the songs the band played. 

After years of chasing external love and validation, she had finally come to realize that the love she searched for was already within her. Centering herself for the first time in her life had brought her the ability to actually feel the love she had for herself in totality. Now that she was able to identify and operate in her own essence, she was able to manifest that same love into the man that held onto her as she stood in her very own restaurant. 

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she stared into his eyes.

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” He asked, slightly smiling down at her. 

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.” He responded, eyebrows slightly lifted, prepared for her command.

“Love me until we meet in the next lifetime.” She stated, eyes darting back and forth between his. 

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her lips before responding. “Yes ma’am.” 

That concludes FAVORS 

Thank you guys so much for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just started writing for the first time back in August and this was my very first series so I was a little rusty but we pushed through 🤞🏾 I love y’all down! 🩵😭 

Now let me finish this one-shot I got for my baby Kelvin… 

HAPPY NEW YEAR SISTERWIVES!! 🥳

[itsthestutterforme]

Copy That (Jack Reacher x ex!wife!reader)

Summary: Much against his preference, he gave you a call and asked for your help. When a hit was hired to take you out, he deeply regrets getting you involved.

Notes: GIF is not mine, this is not a beta’d read, protective Reacher, soft Reacher, reader is black, technically this is a drabble but there will be more drabble with the same characters

—

“Who’s able to hack into a system with this much encryption?” Rocoe asks, linking her arms over her head as she leaned back into her chair.

“Let me see,” Reacher turns the monitor to face him. There’s a black screen with a singular white box that asks for a password.

Obviously it’s more than a password. They probably beefed up their cybersecurity when he noticed someone getting too close to their operation, Reacher thought to himself.

“Finlay, do you have any friends in cybersecurity security that we can trust?” Roscoe asks.

“Negative,” Reacher knew exactly the person for the job. He hadn’t spoken to you in years, and he didn’t want the first time he contacted you to be when he needed something.

But he didn’t have any other choice.

You wanted out of field work two years after your operations team disbanded. In that way, you were opposite of Neagley, your best friend.

You liked being in the comfort of your own office, free to do anything you’d like when waiting for the decryption to crack.

Life with you was domesticated. Life with you was peaceful. A level of peace he wasn’t sure he would feel again, even if he went back to his favorite home town growing up.

“Reacher?” Roscoe asks, touching her forearm to bring him out of his thoughts. “Where’d you go?” “Nowhere, I’m right here. I know someone,” Reacher finally says, pulling out his burner phone.

“Really? You have friends?” Finlay jabs, earning a glare from Reacher. He dialed your number and put the phone on speaker.

You were in the middle of doing a headstand lotus on your yoga mat when you heard your phone vibrate.

It was from an unsaved number. There was two people that would call from unsaved number: Neagley or Reacher.

You answered the phone and moved across your office to close all the blinds. “Y/L/N,” you answer and you were met with silence.

“If this is some ploy to scare me, you really suck at it.” Reacher stared at the phone, his heart pattering wildly in his chest.

You just had that effect on him.

You were about to hang up the phone when you heard a low baritone say your name.

You looked down at the number before bringing the phone back up to your ear. “Reacher? Is everything okay?”

You peeked through the blinds of your office and saw no one suspicious but you can never be too careful.

“I, uh.” Reacher starts, earning confused stares from Finlay and Roscoe. They hadn’t seen him speechless before.

He takes the phone off speaker and goes outside for some privacy. “Y/N, I need your help cracking something. You’re more than welcome to say no-“ “Send it over,” you interrupt.

“I can’t. It’s likely they’ll track the IP address to you and pay you a visit.” “Let them try.” A proud smile makes its way on his face. That’s my girl.

“It’s safer with us. I’ll send you the coordinate incognito.” “Jesus, Reacher. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“It’s something I have to finish,” “How long should I pack for?” His silence told you all you needed to know.

“I’ll be on the next flight out,”

**

You stepped off the metro with your carry on suitcase by your side and a backpack on.

You downed the rest of your coffee and tossed it in the waste bin before advancing towards the escalator. You scanned the area for Reacher with no avail but Reached saw you.

He didn’t want to call attention to you by calling your name so he watched as you waited for the escalator.

“Wow, she’s.. ” Finlay trails off when Reacher’s gaze left you to stare at him. “Really pretty,” Roscoe finishes. “She’s clearly your girlfriend,” Finlay adds.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” “You’re rather protective of her. You care about her.”“That doesn’t make her my girlfriend,”

“Uh guys, where’d she go?” Roscoe starts. The group looks at the empty space where you were previously standing.

“Fuck,” Reacher rushes down the stairs, Finlay and Roscoe not far behind. I should have never took my eyes off of her, Reacher thought to himself. If she dies, I swear to God.

Meanwhile, you stood over the man who had pushed you a few feet into the metro tunnel.

He had pressed a knife to your throat while his teammate searched your belongings. They expected you to be a quick kill.

You had to say you were a bit insulted that they only sent two men after you. They must not see you as a physical threat. That was their mistake.

He laid at your feet, his eyes widen as he looks up at you. He peers over to his teammate who laid dead on the tracks, his neck split wide open.

You slowly approached him and he attempted to crawl away from you. The blood from his chest wound stains the pavement under near him.

You wasted no time as you pressed your boot down on his trachea. He gripped your ankle, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

Thrusting your foot down, you crushed his trachea and watched as his chest slowly falls to a stop.

You slung your book bag over your shoulder and rolled your carry on back to the metro docking station.

Reacher had his back toward you, he was talking to two people you didn’t recognize.

A younger woman looked over at you, her mouth fell open at the sight of you. You’re sure you had blood splattered across your neck and face.

She mumbles something to Reacher and spun around so fast, you’re surprised he didn’t crack his neck.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of you. He doesn’t say anything at first. You admired the stubble that was forming on his face.

You were always a sweetheart for facial hair. He held your face, turning your head from side to side in search of wounds. His hand gently trailed down your abdomen.

He continued his silent survey until you said, “Reach, I’m fine. The blood isn’t mine.”

His gaze fell behind you before returning to your face. He raised his brow and you nodded at his silent question. They were dead.

“I should have kept my eyes on you. This is my fault. I’m sorry.” “Hey, you taught me well. I handled myself. Besides, it was only two guys.”

“What did they use?” “Knives,” you said with a smirk. “They didn’t stand a chance,” he says, making your smirk widen. “No, they didn’t.”

“Sorry to interrupt but uh,” Finlay hands you a hanker chief, motioning to your face. “We should go. You’re getting stares.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure.” You reached down to grab your luggage but Reacher beats you to it.

You didn’t bother arguing with him, you were occupied with getting all of the blood off of your skin while it was still wet.

“So.. are you Reacher’s girlfriend?” Finlay asks as he opened the trunk and Reacher slide your luggage inside.

Roscoe looked at you expectantly, which tells you that she has a crush on him.

You don’t blame her. He’s Jack Reacher after all.

“No, I’m his ex-wife.” You answer, setting your book bag next to your luggage before closing the trunk. Roscoe’s mouth fell once again, along with Finlay’s.

They stared at you as if they were waiting for you to say just kidding. You slide into the back seat and Reacher joined you.

“Close your mouth, Finlay. You’ll catch flies.” He says before closing the door.

“Care to tell me what happened the last time you were at the metro?” You asked when you all piled into the car.

“What do you mean?” Roscoe asks as Finlay pulls off the curb and descends into exit to go onto the freeway.

“The way you were looking for me was frantic. It makes sense why Reach was worried, but not you two. Something else happened at the metro station. Someone was taken out like they tried to take me out. Who was it?” You explain.

Finlay and Roscoe looked shared a look but didn’t say anything.

“There was a woman. Her name was Molly-“ “Molly? As in Molly Gordon?” “You know her?”

“Joe brought her as his plus one to my sister’s baby shower. God, that’s.. how’s Joe holding up?” You asked, your mouth felt dry at the new information.

Reacher looks at you, his features hard as stone. Your heart sank in your chest the longer you stared at him.

You felt compelled to reach for his hand in comfort but you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t big on public affection.

Nor was he big on being vulnerable in front of people so you kept your hands in your lap.

“How long?” You asked after a pause. “It’s been a few days now,” Finlay confirms. “They got too close,” you said with a sigh.

“How many people have died?” “Five so far,” Roscoe answers. “And that’s just the ones we found,” Finlay adds.

“So they’re dropping people like flies and it’s still a state police matter?”

Bringing in the FBI and the CIA will only push these people into the hiding. We need to lure them out and kill them.” Reacher explains and you nodded in agreement.

“Copy that,”

[wannab-urs]

You’re So Dark

Pairing: Professor!Dave York x Grad Student!f!Reader

Summary: There’s only one thing you really want out of this conference – your research adviser, Dave York. 

Warnings: smut, professor/student relationship, reader is a brat, this is very close to a self insert fic so she’s also a cocky little asshole, power dynamics, age gap (Dave is in his late 40s, reader is at least 21 but not specified), Dave is conflicted, that’s why he’s such a dickhead, Divorced!Dave, drinking but no one is all that intoxicated, unprotected PIV (but he has a vasectomy and reader is on BC), creampie, oral f!receiving, lots of arguing, no use of y/n. WC: 2.4k

A/N: Based on a true story. Just had this idea out of nowhere, don’t look at me. Thanks to @pedgito for the beta <3

Dave York Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi | Playlist

You knock on his door, wearing nothing but a skimpy tank top and shorts. The conference doesn’t start for a while, so you put on comfy clothes following the long car ride. That’s not your only motivation, though, for showing up at his hotel room in barely anything. 

The hotel is nice, nice enough that you feel underdressed in the hallway. You’re set to present your paper on John Donne today at 2. Your research adviser Dr. York – Dave – had picked you up at your apartment at 5 this morning to drive you both to the conference. He’s presenting his latest paper. Something about journals kept by British people during World War II. 

You shift your weight from foot to foot waiting for him to answer the door. Finally, you hear the chain drop and the door opens. He eyes you up and down, one eyebrow quirked, before turning around and walking back into the room. 

“Are you wearing that to the conference?” He’s already settling back into the shitty desk chair by the window. You look down at your outfit and then back up to glare at the back of his head. 

“Yeah. Obviously.” You lay back on his bed and stretch your back, sore from the 5 hour car ride. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Working.” 

You roll onto your stomach and look at him. The mid morning light casts a glare over his screen, but only serves to highlight his features. You hate how pretty he is, how much you want him.

“Are you wearing that to the conference?” He’s wearing navy dress pants and a tight white t-shirt that is definitely a size too small. 

“I have a dress shirt.” He seems irritated today. Shoulders tense, sentences clipped. You wonder if it’s you that has him all worked up. 

You slide off the bed into the floor and go through some simple yoga poses. Your back is really messed up from that car ride. You sit on your knees and walk your hands forward as far as they’ll go, dropping your head to the floor. You sigh as you sink into child’s pose, feeling the stretch in your sore hips and back. “What are you working on?” You ask, voice muffled by the carpet. 

“Will you shut up?” You snap your head up to look at him. He’s fucking tetchy today… and he hasn’t looked over at you once, as far as you can tell. 

“Make me.”

“When have I ever been able to make you do anything?” 

You sit back on your heels and tilt your head to the side. He’s almost shaking, he’s so tense. You’ve never seen him like this. “You never ask nicely.”

He wordlessly scoots his chair back and spreads his legs, still typing away on his laptop. You crawl over and settle yourself between his legs. He still doesn’t look at you.

“What do you want, Dave?” 

“For you to stop talking.”

“Is that all you want?”

“No.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

You lean in and drag your lips over the bulge in his slacks, hear the sharp snatch of breath, the clack of keys as his hands hit them all at once. 

You’re not going to do it until he tells you to and he isn’t going to ask. It’s a standoff. He thinks he has to let you make the first move. Does this not count as a first move? You in such a supplicant pose, gazing up at him from between his thighs. 

“You should go get dressed. We have to leave soon.” Quiet, strained, so unlike his usually smooth and confident cadence, and still not meeting your eyes. He rolls the chair back so you have room to scoot out. 

Your cheeks sting with rejection, but you know he wants you as bad as you want him. He’s just afraid of the consequences. You slip out from under his desk and retreat to your room to get changed. 

–-

The conference goes as smoothly as it can – it was your first ever presentation at something like this, and you definitely got tripped up on some of the questions the audience asked you. Afterward, Dave drags you outside to a group of people. He introduces you to Will, Laurie, Anna, and Doug. They’re colleagues, friends, that he often meets up with at conferences. 

“Wanna come with us to get drinks?” Anna asks. 

“Sure!” you agree before Dave can turn them down. He scowls at you, but turns a megawatt smile on when he looks back to Anna. 

“Sounds good,” he says through his teeth. 

Dave gossips in your ear all night, filling you in on each of his friends. Will and Laurie are both supposedly polyamorous and only hook up with each other at conferences, but Dave knows Will’s wife has no idea. Anna is in trouble with her school for a presentation she did last year, and she had to have today’s presentation reviewed by her department chair before she could present. Doug has a thing for Anna, but she’s married. 

The gossip is a good holdover, but you’re antsy the whole time. You sip vodka sodas slowly while your mind whirs with the possibilities of tonight. Dave drinks whiskey on the rocks, jokes with his friends when he’s not whispering in your ear. 

You and Dave go out to smoke, leaving everyone else in the bar. You split an American Spirit with him. 

“If you only smoke when you drink, why do you have a near empty pack of expensive cigarettes?” 

“I drink every night.” 

“God you’re pathetic.” 

“Not as pathetic as the grad student with a thing for her professor.” 

“Fuck you. You’re not my professor.” 

“Oh, so you do have a thing for me?”

You’d thought that was obvious from your earlier attempt to blow him.

 “You know what’s actually pathetic, Dave? The professor who wants to fuck his student.” 

“You’re not my student.”

 “Oh, so you do want to fuck me?” 

He puts out the cigarette in the ashtray and stalks off inside. 

By the end of the night, you regret agreeing to go out, desperate to get back to the hotel and get Dave alone. This may be your only shot at getting what you want from him and you can’t waste it. You say goodnight to everyone, tell them how nice it was to meet them all, and head out, Dave close behind you. You think you catch Laurie giving him a knowing look, but you can’t be certain. 

You walk back to the hotel, your arm brushing his. Out of nowhere, Dave chuckles and pushes his shoulder into you. 

“What? What’s funny?”

“Nothing. I like that you step on the sewer grates.”

“What?”

“The drainage grates. My ex wife was terrified of them. She’d rather walk in the street than step on one. You don’t even hesitate.”

“Oh.”

“I just mean– I don’t know what I mean. You’re brave.”

“Thanks,” you say earnestly, looking into his eyes. 

“You’re welcome.” He averts his gaze, looks back down at the ground. You think he might be blushing. 

You get to the hotel and the lady at the desk gives you and Dave a strange look. An “I know what this is and I don’t like it” look. You roll your eyes and stalk over to the elevators, punching the button with more force than necessary. You didn’t think it was that obvious, the dance you two were doing around each other. 

The ride up to the tenth floor is tense. Dave doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word. When you get up to where you’re supposed to split off, he asks if you want to come to his room for a drink. You say yes and follow him to his room. Now the nerves really kick in. It’s fine, you’re fine. You wonder if he’s gonna reject you again. It would be cruel after inviting you to his room, but he’s never really been kind. 

When you get into his room you sit on the bed and take off your dress shoes, your coat, and the blazer you’ve been wearing all day. He pours himself a bourbon from the minibar and offers you one. You take the cup in your hand, sipping the liquor and feeling heat trail down your throat. He knocks his back in one shot and stands in front of you at the bed.

You stand up, putting you inches from his body. You cover his bulge with your hand, squeezing lightly and nip your teeth at his throat. “Do you want to fuck me, Dave?” 

He shoves you backward with a growl and you fall on the bed. He tugs your trousers off and lowers himself between your legs. He licks you over your panties, feeling how wet you already are. He hooks his fingers into the gusset of your panties, knuckles brushing your entrance. 

“Oh you’re soaked for me, baby girl.” 

“Don’t call me that. Ew. God. Ew.”

“Fine. Brat.” Dave tugs your panties down and tosses them on the floor. He pushes your thighs apart and settles your legs over his shoulders. He covers your cunt with his mouth and flicks his tongue against your clit. You let out a moan and bury your fingers in his short hair. He flattens his tongue against you and you ride his face, grinding his aquiline nose into your mound as you move against him. 

He brings a hand up to press your stomach down, holding you still while he slips two fingers of his other hand inside you. You keen loudly at the stretch, squirming as he sucks your clit into his mouth. 

You’re so wet you can hear the wet squelch of your pussy around his fingers. He crooks them upward and you buck your hips hard enough to break the hold he has on you. 

“F-Fuck, Dave. Please,” you whine. 

“So polite when you finally get what you want,” he mutters into your cunt. 

He’s making you feel so fucking good, you’d let him say anything right now. He strokes your sweet spot almost methodically, like he’s had a lifetime of practice that led him here, making you whine and moan and squirm pathetically on just two of his fingers. Your grip tightens on his hair as you feel white hot bliss crawling up your spine. 

“Fuck. Dave. Gonna come.”

He doesn’t let up, the firm strokes of his fingers driving you higher and higher until finally you reach your peak and come crashing back down. You shatter, your pussy clenching rhythmically. 

“Can I fuck you?” Dave’s voice is rough and low like he’s been yelling.

“Do you have a condom?” 

“Do I need one?” 

“I mean I’m on birth control” 

“Oh I got snipped when I divorced Carol, that’s not what I meant” 

“They had vasectomies in the 1800s?”

“Are you clean or not?” 

“It’s a little fucking late to ask that, man, you just had your tongue inside me, but yeah.” 

“Fair enough.”

Dave helps you up the bed until your head rests on the pillows. He takes your shirt off, stripping your bra with it. He’s fully dressed and you’re bare before him. He leans down and kisses your neck, before his lips trail down to your chest. He sucks a mark into the soft skin of your breast. You start unbuttoning his shirt but he just pulls it off over his head, an urgency that wasn’t there before taking hold. 

“Need to be inside you, fuck.” 

He shucks his slacks down as far as possible without getting up and immediately slots his length against your slit. You reach down and adjust him yourself, lining up the tip with your entrance. He mutters something about “impatient” but pushes inside you anyway. He’s long and thick and he makes you feel so full. When he’s fully sheathed inside you, your eyes roll back in your head with pleasure. 

“Fuck. You’re huge, Dave. Fuck,” you whine, as if he needed the ego boost. 

You gasp his name as he starts fucking you, your fingernails digging into the skin at his sides. You pull him into you, urging him to fuck you harder. He growls and picks up the pace, the slapping of your skin, your loud moans, his grunts fill the room. 

You get lost in it a little, your mind slipping into that space where all you can think about is the sensation of his cock spearing you over and over. 

He slips a hand between your bodies and presses the pads of his fingers to your clit, rubbing in small circles. You throw your head back and scream his name as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. Dave fucks you through it, thrusts slowing but not stopping yet. 

“Where?”

It takes you a second to process what he’s asking. Where do you want his cum? 

“Inside. Please.”

“So polite. Fucked the brat right out of you, huh?”

You’re too fucked out to respond with a witty comment, so he must be right. He thrusts into you deep and you feel his cock pulse as he spills inside you. The sensation almost makes you feel like you could come again. 

He pulls out as soon as he’s finished, rolling to his feet and heading into the bathroom. The bastard doesn’t even seem winded. He comes back from the bathroom holding a wet washcloth in his hand. Dave wipes up the mess between your thighs and tosses the rag onto the floor.  

It’s after he’s cleaned you up and is standing in front of the bed that you notice his body. He’s more lean and muscled than you could really see beneath his dress shirts. You wonder idly if you’ll ever see him like this again. His bare, broad chest. His happy trail leading down to his unbuttoned slacks. 

He strips off his pants, leaving him in his briefs. His thighs are toned too. You kind of wish you’d gotten to explore his body more thoroughly. He crawls into bed and lays beside you, but doesn’t fit his body against yours the way you want him to. Never one to not get exactly what you want, you snuggle up to his side, throwing your arm across his chest. He readjusts and holds you close. 

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler.” 

“Didn’t take you for a missionary guy. Guess we’re both full of surprises.” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t fucking love it.” 

You hum noncommittally. It was probably the best sex of your life, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

[feasibilities]

Afternoon Tea | Jim x Married!Reader

Synopsis: Jim visits his best friend's wife while she's home alone.

Warnings: Soft Fem!Dom, Jealousy, Cheating, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Past Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Guilt

Author's Note: I started classes late last month and had some health issues but I'm doing better. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Jim’s jealousy towards Chris made no sense. He had a beautiful wife and managed 2 children with her with little issue. Why should he be jealous of a marriage to a younger woman that happened because of a midlife crisis? 

“Hey, Jim. Come in.” You beamed. He loved seeing you smile. 

“Hey.” Jim said softly, taking you in. 

“I just came from yoga class, so excuse my attire. Would you like some tea?” You apologized, walking to the kitchen. 

“Sure, no problem.” He replied, distracted by how your leggings hugged your legs and ass. He took a seat at the table to gather himself. Pouring him a mug, you gave him a dish of sugar and lemon. 

“Thank you.” He said warmly. Curious glances were exchanged between you two before he broke the silence. 

“How have things been with Chris?” He inquired.

“Good, I suppose.” You trailed off. Noticing your apprehension, he decided to pry. 

“You sure?” Jim asked.

“Well, Chris wants to have kids but I would like to wait until I finish graduate school. I get that he’s older but this is really important to me.” You revealed, fiddling with your wedding ring. Jim was humored by your youthful vocabulary.

“Having kids is a big responsibility. Danielle and I met at university but waited until we graduated. I know he can be difficult to deal with at times but someone like you can convince him.” He said, sipping out of the mug. 

“You’re so much easier to talk to.” You said, sitting in the chair adjacent to him. Your gaze lingered on him. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you studied his features. Truthfully, he was much more intriguing than Chris. You hated Danielle for getting to him first. 

“How do you keep things exciting? Chris can be good time but you seem way more fun.” You said, scooting closer to him. 

“Oh, I’m no fun at all.” He said, shaking his head with a smile.

“I think you are.” You spoke softly, touching his arm. He tensed at the contact and sat his mug down. Jim was interested in whatever your plans were but worried about the consequences of fucking his friend’s wife. 

“Uh, I think I should go. It was nice speaking with you. Thanks for the tea.” He said politely, standing up. You grabbed his wrist and led him to the living room. Before he could protest, you shoved him on the couch and began undressing. Jim’s face turned bright red when your bra fell to the floor. This was much better than the time he spied on you taking a shower during a family vacation. His lecherous reminiscence was interrupted by you standing over him. 

“Do you want me, Jim?” You cooed, holding his chin. 

“Yes, I always have.” He answered embarrassingly quick. You climbed onto his lap and kissed him harshly. His large hands moved to your ass and massaged the soft flesh. You nipped at his bottom lip. Jim suddenly flipped you on your back and perched between your legs. He stared at you at like a dog waiting for direction. You quickly realized you could get him to do anything you wanted. 

“Go ahead.” You said. Jim’s tongue swirled around your clit as you yanked at his peppered locks. He took in the redolent scent of your trimmed pubic hair. His hands moved up to your breasts and hovered over them. Noticing his hesitancy, you pressed your hands over his and moaned sweetly. His tongue slipped into your damp heat. His pale blue eyes flickered open and his thumbs teased your nipples. You rocked against his face as you chased your high. After cleaning you off, he sat up to catch his breath. 

“Good boy.” You praised, smearing the moisture on his lips. You pulled him down and straddled him. You hurriedly unbuckled his pants and slid them halfway down his legs. 

“Wait-“ Jim started, wanting to use protection.

“There’s no time.” You whispered, sinking onto his length. A low groan escaped him as you slipped your fingers into his mouth. There was a marked desperation in his eyes. You relished in your newfound power. 

“Suck.” You ordered. You felt him suckle on your fingers gently. Rutting against him, you saw that Jim was already close. His heart was beating rapidly and his hands found the soft flesh of your hips. A tender kiss on his forehead made him fall apart. Hot spurts of his seed spilled into you. You embraced him as he came down from his high. Reality seemed to sink in for him as soon as it was over. He was overwhelmed with guilt and dread at the thought of his friend’s wife carrying his child. 

“I’ll take a Plan B. No worries.” You smiled innocently. 

“I-I have to get back for dinner.” He said nervously. 

“Stay.” You cooed. Despite his obligation, he couldn’t pull away from you more than a second. 

[justwinginglife]

hi!!!

can you write one where Soshiro notices Y/N's fatigue and how much Y/N was overworking during training, after Y/N stayed up all night , working out, training, studying, meditating, and putting drinking and eating as second priority , for multiple days in a row until she coughed up blood from it thinking that she's not strong enough, Soshiro instantly takes notice how tired, and feverish Y/N was acting and made her rest and you can choose what he does after :)

In His Care

Soshiro almost died.

He almost died fighting Kaiju #10 and you couldn't do anything to save him. The thought plagued you constantly. You weren't fast enough, strong enough, brave enough, smart enough to save him. But you would be. You'd never be that weak again. You couldn't bear it.

Soshiro instantly noticed something was wrong when you'd started to visit him less and less in the infirmary. How could he not notice? Your presence in his life was a blessing and he always counted down the seconds until he could see your smile, hear your laugh. But lately, you hadn't been coming as frequently and he wondered where you were slipping away to.

The answer was the library, delving into more kaiju knowledge. Or the gym, training until your muscles were on the verge of tearing. And still, it wasn't enough for you.

You'd picture him collapsed on the ground, dripping blood, unable to move, unable to defend himself. And suddenly you'd have the strength to train again, train faster, train harder. And you studied so much kaiju anatomy that you thought your eyes might shrivel up from staring at the pages so intensely.

At first, you'd just forget to eat. You'd be so sore from working out that your stomach couldn't take it anyway. Then, when your stomach was begging you for sustenance, you'd actively refuse it, saying to yourself you didn't have the time to waste on things like food and water. You didn't even sleep anymore.

If you needed to relax, you'd meditate and you'd do yoga, training your mind and your flexibility, but always training nevertheless. After all, a kaiju could barge through the front doors at any moment and Soshiro was still healing.

You'd be enough this time. And if somehow after all this, you still couldn't save him, you'd damn well be courageous enough to die fighting by his side.

You didn't even realize you'd been visiting Soshiro less and less, as he was always present in your mind. Even if -against your will- you accidentally drifted off for a moment, you always dreamed of him. It wasn't until the lack of food and drink caused you to hallucinate seeing him and the mirage faded before your eyes that you eventually realized that you needed to actually go see him. So, after yet another long night of training, you weakly stumbled down the hall to the infirmary, almost tripping through the door when you arrived.

His happiness at finally seeing you again was quickly overturned by his concern and worry for you when he saw the sorry state you were in. You tried to speak and the effort caused you to cough up blood. He instantly pulled himself out of bed, ignoring that he was still recovering himself, and quickly sat you down in a chair beside him. Without even saying anything, he wiped the blood from your mouth with his sleeve and then shoved a straw in your mouth, gesturing for you to drink.

You were too exhausted to resist and so you gulped down his water. Any guilt you might have felt for being so weak and making him worry was quickly washed away, as you were too focused on the refreshing feeling of the water quenching your thirst as it flushed down your throat.

You could tell he was watching you carefully and the thought made you flush a little. Soshiro sighed, his breath thick with relief, as he saw the color returning to your pale, sickly cheeks.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking. "Baby... love... what's going on with you?"

You were unsure if you wanted to tell him the truth. You hesitated as your breath caught in your throat.

"You look exhausted, dear. Have you been eating? Sleeping?"

You shook your head slowly and winced as his gaze hardened.

You thought he might scold you, yell at you even. You were prepared to defend yourself, prepared for an argument. Instead, his voice came out surprisingly soft. "Why not? What's wrong?"

Your heart melted at how gently he was handling the situation. It's like he knew you needed his love more than his lecture. You sighed. You couldn't keep the truth from him anymore, not when he was being so sweet and considerate. Not when you'd neglected to visit him to show him how you also cared for him. He deserved this from you.

"I... I want to be strong for you. I can't... can't watch you almost die again. I wasn't good enough to save you. I need to do better, be better. I need to be there for you when you need me." You choked out, your throat still aching from being previously deprived of hydration.

His eyes softened further and he wrapped his arms around you, careful not to squeeze too tight in case you were still sore from your training. "So you've been training this whole time then?"

You nodded, a tear slipping out this time.

He brushed it away gently. "It's okay baby. It'll all be okay. I'm okay, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I never want you to feel like you're not enough, okay? You did your best, that's all I could ask for. If it's my time to go, then it is, okay love? But I promise I'll do my best not to die on you anytime soon, wouldn't wanna make my beautiful girlfriend cry after all." He kissed the path your tear had taken down your cheek.

Then he picked up your trembling body and set you on his bed. He immediately slid in beside you and nuzzled against you. "Let's just rest for now and I'll get some food in you in the morning, yeah?"

You whispered your agreement and he kissed your forehead before dozing off beside you.

He did, in fact, keep his promise because when you woke up, there was a full buffet ready for you. You were unsure how he had managed to sneak so much food into the infirmary but your growling stomach was grateful.

He spoon fed every bite to you slowly, making sure you didn't choke. You were still remembering how to eat again, after several days of going without food. He even licked a bit of ketchup off your lips and you flushed at that. He beamed at his ability to bring such a pretty color into your cheeks.

And you made sure he ate too. After all, the two of you were in this whole mess because he was injured and needed to recover. You made sure he could tell just how much you loved him too, you didn't want to be the only one being taken care of.

Then, when the both of you had finally healed up enough, he proposed training together. He knew you wanted to be better for him, and he wanted to be better for you- he didn't ever want to scare you like that again. He also just wanted to monitor you and make sure you didn't overwork yourself. He did make you verbally promise to never do that again, but sometimes when it looked like maybe you were training just a little too much, he'd pick you up, throw you over his shoulder and deposit you onto his bed, settling himself on top of you so you couldn't move. You didn't mind. You knew he did it out of love and you loved it.

As long as you could take care of him and he could take care of you, that was all you needed.

[ceasarslegion]

OK...I'm asking....

Yay!

So this happened in what I consider the worst job I ever had. And that is saying something because I very much worked retail in a mall. I had just graduated uni, I couldn't afford toronto anymore, and I needed a full-time job to make ends meet now that the stability of university was gone. So I went to edmonton because I had one family member I could stay with until I got on my feet. And I was not in a position to turn away a job that paid.

So I took a door to door sales position. For telus. I can hear the canadians in the room wincing so to everyone else: telus is one of the three whole mega megacorporations that control the ENTIRE canadian telecommunications network. And all three of those companies are buddy buddy and have us all by the balls. That's why canadian phone plans are the most expensive in the world. Not in the developed world: in the WORLD.

The meth lab incident happened on my 3rd whole day on my own. I was in St. Albert, which is this suburb of edmonton that is like if a kale smoothie and that guy who won't shut up about bikhram yoga had a baby they abandoned in an HOA meeting. Which is what makes this that much more unhinged: it was in the most cookie cutter suburbia part of the EMR.

So I was doing my knocks in my blue Jay's hat and my telus branded polo shirt with my clipboard and I knock on my next door. I'm greeted by a middle aged woman who proceeds to dump on me that she's divorcing her husband of 30 years and moving to New Brunswick. I'm like okay cool I just wanna sell you cable packages, good luck with that?

I write that off and continue along the cul de sac until I knock on this other lady's door. And when I say talkative I mean a real chatty Kathy. She practically grabs me by the collar and plops me down on her deck chairs, shoves a coffee in my hand, and says "HEY TELUS GUY DID YOU KNOCK ON METH GUYS DOOR???" And points to the house of the lady who just told me she was getting a divorce

At this point I have forgotten about my commission. I have forgotten about my shitty supervisor and how every part of this job sucks and how I wanna go back to Toronto. I have thrown away my clipboard I have started sipping her coffee that could very well be spiked with something and I go "you have to tell me about the meth guy"

That house I knocked on? The weird oversharing lady who was getting a divorce? Her husband was running a meth lab out of the basement THEIR ENTIRE MARRIAGE and she ONLY FOUND OUT THEN?? He called it his man cave and said that she wasn't allowed in?? And then one day she went down out of curiosity and it was a METH LAB??? All the bonuses he said he got at work were meth money.

I'm still enamored by how this happened. Did it not smell? Like for those who don't know edmonton there is a HUGE meth problem here. Like across the political aisle we all agree that something has to happen about all the meth, the details get foggy and that's where people argue, but needless to say I have smelled and been offered meth before just by virtue of living downtown. That shit REEKS. Like you know meth smell because it somehow smells like the word "meth." You will know what you are smelling even when you've never smelled it before. And it lingers. It hangs. It gets into walls. I know when I've taken a train car before because the smell of that guy who hotboxed it with meth smoke last week will still kinda be there. There's no way that house didn't smell like ass down to the foundation.

And the "you arent allowed in my man cave" excuse... im enamored by both the sexism towards his OWN WIFE and the way she just... went along with it for 30 years? Never set foot down there? The sexism and the just believing it?

I kept trying to steer the conversation back to the meth lab and this lady I was on the porch of kept actively trying to buy internet deals from me. Like she was the only person I ever pitched who was TRYING to get my bundles. I ended up just handing her my list of products and told her to check off what she wanted and was like "more meth lab?" And she went right to "yknow i think if I was your age I would've been a boy now. We didn't really have those terms when I was a kid" I DID NOT BRING THAT UP MA'AM I DONT HAVE TIME FOR YOUR GENDER CRISIS TELL ME MORE ABOUT THE METH LAB

That job was so shit that that was the only one I ever quit with no back up plan and did not regret for a second. I then went to the mall and handed out CVs and got my retail job by the end of the week from doing that.