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highvern · 7 months

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Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them.

So you go as late as possible.

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone.

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial.

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.”

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch.

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back.

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is.

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat?

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week.

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips.

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit.

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary.

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt.

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!”

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.”

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.”

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s.

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up.

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this.

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.”

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?”

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold.

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck.

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth.

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.”

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager.

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half.

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case.

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

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crushmeeren · 6 months

Text

♡ Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima ♡

❥ All characters aged up/18+.

♡ Master List Link

❥ Warnings; dirty talk, pussy eating, blowjobs, fingering, squirting, vaginal sex, Eijirou stuffs you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Don’t be such a pussy. You know you can fucking do it, so do it,” Katsuki demands, jaw clenched and irritation lacing his voice.

Unfortunately, the harsh pep talk doesn’t quite motivate you the way he wants.

You know it’s his way of being encouraging, but his efforts fall flat.

“Fuck off Kat,” you bite, panting heavily. “God! I wish Ei was here,” you hiss crossly, gritting your teeth.

Your sweat covered palms slip over your bare knees as you bend in half, desperately gulping down air, heart rate erratic.

Katsuki clicks his tongue behind his teeth, laughing — which sounds more like he’s mocking you, tapping his foot impatiently.

Clearly he’s not offended.

“Why? So he can baby your ass?” He taunts, lifting his chin up. He crosses his arms over his tank top clad chest, sitting up straight on the workout bench across from you, and stretches a leg out in front of him.

You throw him an icy glare, choosing to ignore his jab.

Standing upright, you use the bottom of your muscle tank to wipe off the metric ton of sweat pouring down your face. The scent of your shirt is overwhelming and gross, causing your nose to wrinkle in distaste.

You’ve been at the gym with Katsuki for two hours. Two grueling, lactic acid filled hours.

The gym at Eijirou and Katsuki’s agency is relatively quiet and secluded, with all the equipment you could ever hope for. It’s a perfect place to focus on your lifting without distractions. So naturally, Katsuki woke up deciding today was the mother of all days to work on one rep maxes.

You’re both off work. Ei is out on patrol — so Katsuki can push, bully you into lifting as much weight as he wants. Which Katsuki swears it’s so you can’t run to Eijirou with “big ass doe eyes” and a pout whenever you get tired and want to go home.

So, here you are, stuck with Katsuki. He’s already hit a new PR and you’re working on yours. You’ve failed this weight three times already, and you could put your fist through the wall you’re so pissed off.

Your glutes are on fire. Your hamstrings are on fire. Your lower back is on fucking fire.

Still, your boyfriend is ruthless. With his attitude, it doesn’t take long for you to reach your boiling point.

“Kaaaat,” you whine, dragging out the A in his name. “I can’t do this today. Please, I just - I wanna go home. I wanna see Ei.” Tears of frustration start to sting and well up in your eyes and you sniff, adjusting the strap of your lifting belt tighter, avoiding Katsuki’s gaze.

An exasperated albeit fond sigh hits your ears. You take to fiddling with the hem of your stretchy biker shorts, irritated in your own lack of ability.

It sits in your chest like a lead balloon.

The bench protests as Katsuki rises from his seat, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Adamantly staring at a crack in the black mats that make up the floor, shifting from foot to foot.

You listen to his quiet footsteps approaching until suddenly black lifting shoes fill your vision.

Gently, a thumb and forefinger grip your chin. Katsuki tilts your head until you’re meeting his warm yet intense ruby red stare.

You deflate, becoming putty in his hold.

“Baby,” he begins, gruff voice infinitely softer now. “You are going to fucking lift this weight. You’re stronger than you know.” He’s overly confident, as normal.

Your lower lip wobbles, heat creeping up your neck and burrowing into your cheeks.

As infuriating as he can be, he’s no doubt your biggest supporter, fan, etc. Not counting Eijirou.

Katsuki’s unwavering belief in you sends goosebumps crawling up your sweat soaked arms. It ultimately convinces you to try again. You wrap your fingers around the wrist helping support your chin, feeling his steady pulse thudding.

“One more time and then we can go home?” You ask reluctantly. His lips curl into a smug grin realizing he’s won you over. Playfully, Katsuki shakes your head side to side, grip tightening on your chin.

“Yeah whatever,” he relents, rolling his eyes. “Ya know, if you hit this, I’ll give you a reward,” he says nonchalantly, trailing his hand down to snake around your throat with a barely there pressure.

“What kind of reward?” You eye him suspiciously. Although, you’d be remiss to deny the anticipation his words bring.

He leans into your personal space, smirking like the Cheshire cat. It gives you a close up of the golden brown freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose.

The air between you sparks dangerously. Warm like the left over embers of a bonfire.

“How bout, I eat that cunt till you’re squirting all over my face, yeah?” He purrs, squeezing your throat a bit harsher.

You grab his tank top with both hands, inhaling sharply. Katsuki’s tone of voice, his words - your entire body flashes hot within the second.

“Oh?” You squeak out, trying to ground yourself while you’re this close to him.

Katsuki pushes in until his soft lips brush your ear lobe, tickling you pleasantly. He slips two fingers into the top of your lifting belt, tugging you to his chest.

“Fuck yes. I’ll get you so soft, so goddamn pliant, that Ei will just slip right into your pussy when he gets home,” he whispers huskily.

“Oh god,” you groan, letting your forehead thump onto his collar bone. You fist his shirt until your knuckles are white, a blistering heat gathering in your belly.

Katsuki snickers, placing a kiss to your jaw and pulling back to force your head up, leveling his gaze with yours.

“C’mon baby, you know how much Ei loves that. So, why don’t you be a good girl, hit this lift and let me take your ass home.”

With that he’s gone. Leaving you to soak in the offer, causally making his way back to the bench.

Your hands linger mid air where they held his tank top. Blinking rapidly you watch him — mind blown, shattered, melted.

He sends you a pointed look to say “hurry the hell up”, resting his left hand on the seat to hold his weight.

You breeze through your personal record the very next try.

One steamy, rushed shower later — you’re spread open wide, entirely bare and resting on your back. The cool sheets on your bed helping soothe your sweltering skin.

You’re not alone. Katsuki’s naked too, comfortably laid out on his belly between your thighs. He’s lazily pumping two fingers in and out of your drooling pussy, paying close attention to the lewd way you suck him in.

Yearning, insatiable — cunt strangling every coherent thought from his head besides the stunning view in front of him.

Katsuki reaches up to take hold of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. He runs his thumb over your palm, keeping you focused on him. He casually rests your conjoined hands on the mattress near your hip.

Your low moans pierce the air when Katsuki sinks his canines into the delicate area of your inner thighs. He gazes up at you through his long lashes while he marks you with dark reddish purple hickeys all over.

They ache and sting, pulsating dully. Each new bite causes your pussy to flutter. It steals your breath away, the way he’s taking you apart.

Yet, you’re getting restless, squirming in the blonde’s hold. By now, you’ve already sent a salacious video of you deep throating Katsuki’s cock to Eijirou.

Drool and precum had been dripping down your chin, cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded for the camera. Katsuki’s rasping moans decorating the background.

Anything to seduce Eijirou, to tempt him into getting home quicker. You’re proud to admit it works almost too well.

He instantly replies he’ll be home in 20 minutes. That was about 15 ish minutes ago. You’ve already been made to cum twice since then.

Katsuki had let his release spill down your throat right after he clicked send on the video. Now he’s currently inching you towards a third orgasm.

You’re aware Katsuki’s going to make you squirt this time. The slight fullness and pressure building in your bladder is a telling indicator.

He’s also trying to his damndest to stretch this out until Eijirou gets home. Craving for the red head to be his captive audience. You share his desire, longing for your currently absent boyfriend to just be here already. You desperately want Eijirou to turn you into a pretzel.

Nevertheless, it’s exhilarating how sweetly Katsuki’s treating you for the time being. He’s normally a bit rougher so this tender side of his is turning you to a pile of mush.

Slim fingers curl up into your sweet spot, stroking it lovingly, sending a warm shiver snaking down your spine. Your back bows off the bed with something similar to a keen falling from your lips.

“Katsuki!” You cry out his name. It sounds as sinful as a curse and as holy as a prayer. Your free hand bunches the silky sheets up in pleasure, skull digging into the mattress below.

“Yeah that’s right. Your pussy feels fucking amazing, doesn’t it princess?” He purrs, tone almost patronizing. But he can’t hide the underlying simmering heat coloring his voice.

His soft lips plant a kiss over your swollen clit and it gets your blood buzzing.

“So — ah! So f-fucking good Kat,” you babble, eyes falling shut. It’s irresistible, the pull you feel to roll your hips in time with his thrusts.

You’re almost feverish from it all, cheeks so scalding steam may as well rise from them.

You cling to Katsuki’s hand even more while he edges your orgasm to the surface, intermittently kitten licking your puffy clit. You tilt your head, glancing down at Katsuki with half lidded eyes, slack jawed. He keeps his leisure pace, stretching the rubber band of your climax to its limit.

The blonde’s expression mirrors yours. Dilated pupils, red blossoming brightly over his cheeks and down his throat — lids so heavy they’re almost closing.

His stare is laced with a rabid want that you recognize all too well. The sight of him occasionally rocking his hips down into the mattress sets your nerve endings alight.

It’s obscene, the way he chases relief for his obviously aching, full cock. You think he’s more than likely smearing precum along the sheets below. He never fails to become drenched when he’s so badly turned on.

You stare briefly at the ceiling, knowing it’ll be over immediately if you keep leering at him. You’re already on the cusp of cumming. The slow, sweet buildup of it making your heart pound brutally behind your rib cage.

Katsuki rips a high pitched wounded noise from your throat when he suckles on your clit again. Your free hand shoots out to tangle and twist his soft blonde hair.

A fresh wave of goosebumps light up over your arms, a thrill racing through you as he devours you. Instinctively you cross your ankles over Katsuki’s upper back. You’re huffing, tits heaving with the rise and fall of your breathing.

You try to warn him, open your mouth to tell him you’re about to cum — but you’re interrupted by your bedroom door swinging open.

Katsuki halts his movements, your orgasm fading into the background as both your heads snap towards the direction of the door. You don’t have time to be upset about it because finally your other boyfriend is home.

Eijirou stands there in street clothes, broad shoulders filling up most the doorframe. His red strands hang loosely, framing his face. The ends are dripping, remnants of a quick shower he must have taken at the agency.

Eijirou wolf whistles.

“Well damn! What did I do to deserve walking in on a sweet treat like this?” Eijirou teases, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder on the doorframe.

“Ei! You’re ho—oh fuck!” You begin to greet him but cry out when Katsuki brushes the pads of his fingers over your g-spot intentionally, startling you.

You untangle yourself completely from the blonde, leaning up and bracing your weight on your elbows. You shove at the blonde’s shoulder with your heel, half heartedly scowling at him.

Katsuki snickers, pillowing his cheek on your squishy thigh and slyly looking over to Eijirou. He looks quite seductive, scarlet eyes full of mirth.

Eijirou laughs delightedly at the playful display. The sides of his eyes crinkle when he beams at you both.

“Oi, quit fucking around Ei. Take your damn clothes off and get your ass over here.” You smoothly join Katsuki in egging the other on.

“Yeah Eijirou, been waiting a lifetime for you to come home. Katsuki wants to put on a show for you.”

Katsuki barks out a laugh, wanting to deny it, but he can’t.

“Okay! Okay, I’m hurrying,” Eijirou giggles, cheeks turning a soft peachy pink.

He wastes no time, disrobing quickly. Pulling down the zipper of his hoodie to reveal he’s wearing nothing underneath. Eijirou ignores the over the top catcalls you both throw his way, mumbling under his breath and pretending he doesn’t love it.

He sheds the jacket, dropping it carelessly to the floor as he makes his way to the side of the bed. He slips out of his sweats just as shamelessly.

You watch Eijirou’s already half hard cock twitch when you reach out for him. He eagerly accepts it, kneeling on the bed next to your head. You look up at him adoringly, lips turning up into a smile that makes the apples of your cheeks twinge.

“Hi Ei, we missed you,” you croon, affectionately squeezing his hand.

In response, he bends down to give you a sweet kiss in greeting. It’s brief, but makes you feel like you’re bathed in sunshine either way. He pulls back, a question clearly on his lips.

“Wanna sit in my lap baby? I’ll get the best view of you that way,” Eijirou says, entirely serious. He shuffles until he can sit behind your head, bracing his back on pillows and the headboard.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” you reply. Scooting yourself backwards until you’re able to slot in between his wide spread thighs, resting your own sticky back along his chest.

As you do so, Katsuki chases you, inching forward. He never lets his fingers leave the searing heat of your pussy.

“Oh fuck,” you laugh breathlessly, taking note of their presence. You tighten around him greedily, desire burning you to ash.

“Oh princess, look at you. Even more fucking needy now that Ei is home,” Katsuki comments meanly, digging his thumb into your puffy clit as he settles in his new spot.

A weak yelp leaves you at how sharp the sensation becomes. You feel the rumble of Eijirou’s laughter as it vibrates throughout his chest.

“Maybe I just want to cum,” you chide him. “You’ve been edging me forever.”

Katsuki doesn’t respond. Just grins like he’s won the lottery, a bit manic, and sets an borderline violent and relentless pace.

The howl you produce is ear splitting. The sudden dynamic shift begging your spine to bend but Eijirou quickly keeps you caged in. He wraps his thick biceps around your stomach, hooking his chin into the muscle just behind your collarbone.

“Be good,” Eijirou warns. “You wanted this yeah? Then let Kat do what he wants.”

You scramble to lock onto his forearms, nails dragging angry lines over his skin. You obediently nod along with what he tells you, starting to get the impression your skin is too tight to fit over your bones.

Your body bounces in time with Katsuki’s motions and the razor sharp points of Eijirou’s teeth threaten to pierce the delicate flesh of your shoulder.

Mercifully, your orgasm comes on like a freight train. In less than a minute to be exact.

Katsuki bullies your g-spot with a precision only he could possess, flicking his tongue over your clit in a steady up and down rhythm. Pleasure pulses white hot in your pelvis, threatening to prickle out all over your waiting body.

“Oh. Oh, I’m gonna cum Kat! Ei, please, shit!” you curse, head spinning, not even sure what you’re begging them for.

“That’s it babygirl, we’ve got you,” Eijirou coos, tone a 180 from a couple minutes prior.

You’re wiggling in his iron clad grip, on the edge of exploding. One more push is all you need. The stifling heat of Katsuki’s mouth envelops your clit once more, sucking.

Then, your toes curl into the sheets, all the muscles in your lower half tensing as your climax rips you apart. You hold onto Eijirou’s forearms for dear life, molten lava gushing through your veins like a busted dam.

Katsuki pulls his mouth away with a wet pop, punishing you with each slippery glide of his fingers. You don’t think you can take much more, crossing into over sensitive territory.

Yet, it doesn’t matter, the looming pressure on your bladder gives without your permission.

“You’re so hot like this baby. Now fucking squirt for me,” Katsuki snarls. Eijirou’s cock kicks where it’s trapped against your lower back.

It’s too easy to bend to his will.

You’re soaking the blondes chin and wrist before you know what’s happening, liquid running down to your ass. His head jerks back, briefly startled, before his eyes get wide.

Katsuki slows, lolling his tongue out to lick his drenched lips for a taste. He moans, flush traveling down to his chest.

“No more,” you complain, hips stuttering as you push at his forehead. You try to catch your breath, coming down from the high — becoming boneless on Eijirou’s chest.

“Good job sweet girl, you did so well my love,” Eijirou murmurs in your ear. His breath tickles your cheek and you lean into him, letting the red head smooth his palm over your belly.

Katsuki slips his fingers free, biting the inside of his cheek when your pussy desperately tries to keep him from leaving you empty.

He rises up, settling back on his calves, admiring how drenched his hand has become. He arches one pretty blonde eyebrow, smirking at his boyfriend.

“Want a taste of her Ei?” Katsuki asks teasingly, wiggling his fingers at the red head.

Eijirou hums his agreement and Katsuki surges forward, leaning over you, and dangling his dripping hand in front of Eijirou.

Katsuki’s cock, hot and heavy, brushes your lower belly. God, you just want to drag him down by his slim hips, flip him over and ride him until he sees stars.

But you don’t. The deep seated desire for Eijirou to fold you in half wins out. You tilt your head up just in time to witness Eijirou’s pink tongue dart out for a taste.

He trails his tongue up Katsuki’s fingers, dipping into the grooves between. You shudder, simultaneously moaning with the blonde.

“Ei,” you interject brokenly. “I need you to fuck me, now please.” Eijirou’s boner jumps against your lower back.

“I can totally do that,” Eijirou responds quickly, playfully pushing at your back. You laugh, looking up at Katsuki expectantly.

He’s still hovering over you.

“Yeah whatever I just wanna watch Eijirou fuck you silly.” He winks at you. You swallow and it’s like your throat’s been lined with cotton balls.

Katsuki retreats, loosely circling his fingers at the base of his cock and squeezing.

“C’mon Ei, I’ve been waiting for you all day,” you giggle, sliding down until you’re flat on your back again. You plant your feet on the bed, allowing your legs to fall open as wide as they’ll go.

“I won’t make you wait any longer baby,” Eijirou assures. He crawls down as Katsuki moves upwards, effortlessly switching places.

Katsuki’s knees bracket your head as he maneuvers until he’s comfortable. If you glance backwards you’ll be met with the view of the blonde’s cock and his partially obscured face.

“Ready pretty girl?” Eijirou asks, pawing at the squishy spots of your thighs, inching close enough until he can part the lips of your pussy with his shaft. The pink head bumps teasingly into your clit.

You nod, biting into your lower lip.

Eijirou uses his thumb to angle his cock down where your warmth waits to greet him. To suck him in like a vice. To clamp down around him until his brain is fuzzy.

He barely dips the head of his cock in once, twice — before finally applying enough pressure his tip fully pops in. The initial stretch makes you shiver. As he fills you with the rest of his cock, you start to tremble.

Your pussy doesn’t offer even a hint of resistance.

You wheeze out his name when he bottoms out. Eijirou’s blunt nails leave indentations on the backs of your thighs as he pushes them a bit towards your chest.

His grip is bruising, licking his lips as he concentrates on being still so you can adjust.

You look down to where you’re connected, fists clenched in the sheets by your sides and your pelvis throbs briefly from just how big his cock is. Eijirou grabs your attention with a strangled sound. Your gaze flickers back to him and his expression is pleading, impatient.

You snort, giving him the go ahead.

He runs with it, proceeding to carve out a space inside you for himself. His eyes flutter shut as your pussy pulses, choking his cock. His lips part slightly, eyes glued to where you’re swallowing him just right.

He rolls his hips, pulling back and thrusting in with a singular fluid motion, slowly working up to a rougher, faster pace.

Katsuki’s curses from somewhere behind you, voice low and ragged as he tells you just how “fucking pretty” you look taking Ei’s cock.

You echo the sentiment, praising the red head as he shifts around on his knees and thrusts harder.

Eijirou whimpers, taking your ankles and lifting until your knees hook over his shoulders. He bends you in half, placing his hands by your head. A moan is punched out of your chest and you cling to his shoulders. It feels like his cock is in your belly.

“Eijirou, holy shit! Please — don’t stop!” you beg, voice edging on a sob. Katsuki hisses in pleasure behind you. The slick, wet sound of him jerking his cock burned into your ears.

“Anything baby, whatever you want,” Eijirou says with a breathy sigh, fucking you hard enough to bounce your body with each thrust. The smack of his skin against yours spurs him on even further.

Your pussy chases his cock every time he pulls back, not letting him go for a second. He fucks you until you feel high, and when you get impossibly tighter — he knows you’re cumming.

Eijirou talks you through it, because of course he does. He makes sure to drag out your orgasm as long as he can.

A drop of sweat falls from the tip of his nose into the valley between your tits, admiring the way your body releases all its tension as you come down from the high.

“Good girl, you cum so beautifully for me,” Eijirou praises. “I’m gonna cum inside you okay?” He’s panting as he moves, clearly hanging on by a thread.

“Cum for me Ei,” you murmur, trailing your hands up and wrapping your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Eijirou whines as you pull him down into a hungry kiss, attempting to eat him alive. He whimpers into your mouth, shoving his cock to the hilt in your pussy. A new warmth blooms inside you as your boyfriend cums.

Eijirou wrenches his mouth from yours to gasp, jaw falling open as he rides out the last few pulses of his orgasm.

A high pitched whine slices through the gooey atmosphere and you look backwards just in time to watch Katsuki’s gorgeous face as he cums.

His eyes pinch shut, the muscles of his neck straining as he tosses his head back on the headboard with a thump. He traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth, partially muffling the next moan he can’t control.

Eijirou hisses when your pussy involuntarily flutters around him as you watch the blonde squirm with pleasure.

Katsuki’s shoulders drop as he relaxes, chest heaving. His stomach is covered in cum. As is his chest, there’s even some on his cheek.

Reluctantly, your attention snaps back to Eijirou when he gingerly pulls his softening cock free. Taking a moment to track the way his release sluggishly flows from you.

“Enjoying the view?” You ask coyly. Eijirou glances at you in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous laugh.

“I always do.” He’s giggling now.

“Fucking sap,” Katsuki snorts.

“Hey!” Eijirou protests. You laugh, reaching backwards to slap Katsuki’s ankle.

“Don’t listen to him Ei, he’s just as bad.”

Playful banter consumes the three of you as you enjoy the relaxing and affectionate atmosphere.

Eventually, you manage to clean yourselves up. You and Eijirou easily convince Katsuki to cook and fill your bellies with food. As you wait, you sit at island in your kitchen, happily retelling Eijirou how you got a new PR today at the gym.

You don’t leave out the way Katsuki used dirty tricks and promises of sex to persuade you, which makes Eijirou laugh out loud.

Katsuki just raises his middle finger over his shoulder in return, taking all the credit for your lift either way.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #kiribaku x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #kirishima eijirou smut #dividers by saradika #bakugou katsuki #eijirou kirishima

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ennabear · 1 month

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ENNABEARRR! DROP ANOTHER MEAN!ABBY DRABBLE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS! (pretty please i luv your writing 🤍)

ʕง•ᴥ•ʔง HEHEHEHE HAIII SWEET NONNIE!!!!! cmere lemme smooch you real sloppy MMWWWAAAHHH. love love love u, here’s mean!abby when you’re on your period…

it would start with her in the middle of her workout at the gym. she feels her phone buzz in her pocket so she pulls it out to glance at it, seeing a message notification from you but deciding she’s too busy read it. so she shoves it back into her pocket and ignores it.

you stare at your phone screen frustratedly, hormones running wild, the dull cramps in your stomach only adding to your dismay. every text you sent was met with a small gray delivered under it. why the hell is she ignoring you?

after a few minutes of groaning into your pillow and squeezing your teddy bear in agony, you decide to fuck it all and call her, something that was reserved only for the most extreme emergencies. as expected, she picks up on the fourth ring with an annoyed “is it an emergency?”

“YES, abby!! why haven’t you answered my texts?” you yell. your hips feel like they’re being viciously yanked apart, tits so sore you yelp at the feeling of your t-shirt brushing against them, and you’re almost certain there’s a giant bloodstain under you.

“what’s wrong?” she asks, panicking and throwing all of her gym equipment into her bag. “do you need me to come home?” and she doesn’t wait for a response to this, she’s already throwing her gym bag into her car and speeding off.

“everything hurts.” you moan, voice cracking as tears start to spill involuntarily from your eyes. “my back and my stomach and my hips and my tits and—” you get cut off by your own sobbing, feeling completely paralyzed as you lay alone and cold. abby is a fucking savior right now, assuring you she’s on her way and she’ll do anything in her power to make sure you’re comfortable once she gets home.

it takes a surprisingly short time for her to get back to your apartment, being greeted by two hungry kittens meowing up at her with their huge eyes. she almost steps right on them as they trail right in front of her feet, perking their tails up and nuzzling against her legs.

finally, she stumbles into the bedroom, finding you curled up under a few different blankets with your head stuffed in her pillow. “baby?” she asks, her voice soothing you momentarily but unfortunately not enough to stop the assault on your emotions right now.

you attempt to turn over and face her, but a sharp pain causes you squirm and roll back into your comfortable nest. two strong arms wrap themselves around you, scooping you up and hauling you to the bathroom. “the sheets, abby.” you moan. she ignores this, peeling off your clothes while she waits for the shower to heat up.

“i’ll be right back,” she whispers. “holler if you need anything.” and you’re left alone to shower by yourself, the hot, steaming water relaxing your muscles and providing the sweetest relief. abby gathers she sheets, scrubbing the small stain with cold water and throwing them into the wash with a douse of stain remover.

abby isn’t a great chef, but she’ll do anything for her baby while she’s in pain. after dumping a few scoops of kibble into each of the girls’ bowls, she grabs a box of pancake mix and gets to work. it takes a few tries for her to make one that’s actually presentable, hands shaking as she tries to maneuver the half cooked batter onto the spatula, but she eventually gets the hang of it. she slides the ugly, torn up pancakes onto her own plate, saving the pretty ones for you, of course.

you tug on one of abby’s torn up t-shirts and a pair of soft sweatpants, tiptoeing out of the bedroom and slumping down on the couch. abby approaches you with a plate full of golden pancakes drowning in syrup, and you notice for the first time how hungry you are. “here, you can pop some pills after you eat.”

“i didn’t know you were a chef.” you giggle, placing a weak kiss on her cheek as a thank you. she rolls her eyes, “yeah, yeah. don’t flatter me.” the two of you eat in almost silence. abby turned on some stupid docuseries she’s been watching. in your opinion, it’s boring as hell, but you’ll watch it as long as she’s happy.

both of the cats curl up on her lap once you’re done. of course she’s their favorite, you curse mentally. abby pulls you closer, wrapping a warm blanket around you and drooping her head on top of yours. “sorry i wasn’t there this morning.” she whispers. “you should’ve called me sooner, though.”

you laugh drowsily, ready to get some quality sleep now that you’re finally comfortable. “you’re a dick sometimes, i love you.”

#MY FAVORITE SOFTIEEEE HERE U GO ANON #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #the last of us

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svtswhorehouse · 3 months

Text

GYM CRUSH! JIHOON — nsfw

gym crush! jihoon who you discover only ever works out in the a.m after restless nights of tossing and turning in bed and deciding to go to the gym instead.

gym crush! jihoon who you have your eye on as soon as you walk in, wondering who the hell he is and why is he the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

gym crush! jihoon who keeps to himself and constantly has his headphones in.

gym crush! jihoon who you end up risking your sleep schedule for just to go ogle at him in the late hours of the night.

gym crush! jihoon who realizes that you’re constantly checking him out, but never calls you out on it.

gym crush! jihoon who just WON'T look at you and it's driving you so crazy that at one point you considered that maybe he shoots for the other team.

gym crush! jihoon who FINALLY gives you attention after he notices that you were struggling to change out weights on a machine and offers to do it for you.

gym crush! jihoon who asks if you need someone to spot you which you graciously take up because who are you to decline the very man you've had your eye set on for weeks.

gym crush! jihoon who rests his hand on your lower back and stands behind you, giving you advice with a voice of authority while you do your sets.

gym crush! jihoon who you go home and fantasize about later that night as your hand slowly creeps down your pants.

gym crush! jihoon who slowly becomes your gym buddy, seeing as you're the only person he for some reason does not mind interrupting his workouts. (plus he thinks you're really helpful when it comes to pushups because he always asks you to sit on his back.)

gym crush! jihoon who enjoys spotting you when you do squats the most !!!! (you're oblivious and think he's really just trying to help, but no. he just wants an excuse to look at your ass.)

gym crush! jihoon who texts you one random night at two in the morning asking if you want to meet him at the gym. (the answer is obviously yes.)

gym crush! jihoon who shows up not long after you do and realizes that the only people there are you and him. (+the workers that are somewhere off doing whatever, but who cares about them anyways.)

gym crush! jihoon who notices your workout attire right off the bat — a low-cut sports bra that accentuates your tits and spandex shorts that make your ass pop.

gym crush! jihoon who says that he'll spot you first and is quick to say squats when you ask him what you should start with.

gym crush! jihoon who's eyes never leave your ass while you're doing your sets and this time he's not so slick about it because you can see him in the mirror.

gym crush! jihoon who KNOWS you can see him, but has no shame about it as he licks his lips and sometimes meets your eyes in the reflection.

gym crush! jihoon who at the end of both of your workouts looks so irresistible after that you can't help but crash your lips against his, hungry and eager to have a taste.

gym crush! jihoon who was glad that you were thinking the same exact thing as him and kisses back almost instantly, placing his hand on your cheek.

gym crush! jihoon who you can't help but resist the urge to lick his abs when he pulls his shirt off.

gym crush! jihoon who doesn't even bother removing your sports bra and instead pulls it down so your tits pop out and he can hold you close to litter them in hickeys.

gym crush! jihoon who keeps your underwear as a souvenir after he’s done with you and you have no other choice but to leave with a wet patch on your shorts as his cum drips out of you.

gym crush! jihoon who bends you over the nearest piece of gym equipment to take you from behind.

gym crush! jihoon who puts you in a headlock and you can’t help but moan in pleasure at the feeling of his big beefy arms wrapped firmly around your neck (ughhhhh i want.)

gym crush! jihoon who mutters the FILTHIEST words of degradation in your ear, telling you how pathetic you are for letting him fuck you out in the open and how you were probably planning this all along.

gym crush! jihoon who admires the way your arousal drips from your cunt and onto the leather of the gym equipment.

gym crush! jihoon who stuffs his fingers in your mouth for you to suck on when you get a lil too loud.

gym crush! jihoon who you get in the routine of fucking every single time to end your workouts now.

gym crush! jihoon who one day decided to spice things up and make you do your sets while a vibrator is inside of you (turns out it wasn’t a good idea when you almost dropped the weight on his foot 😭)

gym crush! jihoon who gets bored of his workouts one day and decides to see how much stamina he has instead (man can go for ROUNDS, but u can’t :’) you would definitely get overstimulated.

gym crush! jihoon who eventually asks you out for a proper date after months of just working out and fucking.

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cameronspecial · 7 months

Note

Soft!Reader tying a bow to Rafe’s biceps 🤭🎀 (he acts all tough but he secretly loves it hehe)

Bow

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.4K

Summary: Y/N has a new hobby that she loves to use to decorate everything.

Masterlist

Tying ribbon to everything has become Y/N’s new obsession. She spends hours going to different craft stores with Rafe in tow to look at every single option, leaving them with multiple rolls that have caught her eye. Rafe would go to sleep and wake up to every possible thing decorated with a bow, all because his girlfriend found a tutorial on how to make the perfect bow. Her purse. Her hairbrush. The fridge handle. The TV remote. His car keys. His backpack. They are all adorned in various styles of ribbons. He even finds one on the flip lid of his passenger seat’s mirror. Eventually, she runs out of places to add her ribbons and Rafe can tell it dampens her mood.

They are currently at Topper’s house. The boys are working out, while Y/N occupies her time by bow-ifying the workout equipment in Topper’s home gym. “Hey, Y/N/N. Is it really necessary to put it on everything?” Topper inquires, regretting it as soon as he sees her smile fall and Rafe’s glare. Her gaze falls with a frown, “No. It’s not. I’m sorry. I can take them down.” She picks up her scissors and uses them to remove her ribbons, making sure to preserve the bows. She is putting everything in her purse when the boys join her on the couches. Rafe throws a sweaty arm around her shoulders to bring her to his side. She shrieks and pulls away from her boyfriend’s hold. She turns towards him, catching a look at the way his thick biceps glisten because of the sweat and light. Her intrusive thoughts win and she wraps a pink sparkly ribbon around his arms. He freezes under the pressure with his eyebrows knitted together. “What are you doing?” he grumbles. She tugs the loops of the bow before moving on to his other arm, “All prizes have a ribbon to show that they are the winner. I’m giving your most prized possession what they need.” His hardened gaze doesn’t let up as he looks at the glitter now falling on his skin. “This is ridiculous, Baby,” he complains, taking his arm out of her hands.

Again, her eyes fall to the ground and he can feel her insecurity creeping in. “What I mean is the thought of my arms being my most prized possessions is ridiculous because that title belongs to you, Baby,” he clarifies, taking the ribbon out of her hands to give her a headband and kissing her forehead once he finishes. “Now, we are matching.” She gazes up at him with a smile. He isn’t going to lie to himself. He loves the ribbon wrapped around his bicep. It is giving him an ego boost that his girl thought they were nice enough to be decorated. “I love it. Thank you, Rafey,” she whispers. An objection can be heard coming from Topper, “Excuse me. I think I deserve a ribbon for my obviously superior pythons."

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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fratttymatty · 28 days

Text

Not Bullied No More

*All characters are 18 or over*

Johnny was at school and he had already been bullied by the homophobic, straight, soccer boys, Austin, Mason, Jake, Brady, and Carter, for being gay. They all had the same tiktok boy hair, fluffy and messy.

Later on at home, his cheerleader girl best friend, Cassie, messaged him on discord with a link with a message.

“Heyy! You should like totes join this super duper cool discord server it’s like totes really cool, I’m like in it too!!!!!!” She messaged.

You join it and he is met with the accounts of Cassie, Austin, Mason, Jake, Brady and Carter. Yhey all start sending hypnosis videos on the server to turn him into a new boy, one of the bullies.

"What are they?!" Johnny messages and then looks at one.

All of the videos were different lengths, the one that he looked at was one of the medium length ones.

At first it was normal pictures, pictures of cars, sports equipment, and a hot, popular girl then it started showing videos of his bullies, pictures of them at the gym, at football games, and at social events then there were words that pop out at him.

“YOU WILL BE GOOD BOY!”

“YOU WILL LOOK LIKE US!”

The video then shows more pictures of his bullies, more videos, the voices of his bullies saying “YOU ARE STRAIGHT”, and “WE ARE THE BULLIES”, then it becomes more intense the words start popping up on the screen more intense and more demanding.

“YOU LOVE GIRLS! YOU ARE HETERO!”

“YOU LOVE BEING POPULAR!”

“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! YOU LOVE HER!”

“YOU ARE STRAIGHT!”

“YOU HATE BEING FEMININE!”

“ YOU ARE ONE OF THE BOYS!”

The video then shows images of the bullies at parties, girls around them and having a good time. The words flash faster as the video goes in a spiral and the background is pink. The spiral starts going faster, the words become intense and start infiltrating his mind.

”YOU LOVE BEING STRAIGHT!”

”YOU LOVE FOOTBALL!”

”YOU HATE BEING GAY!”

”YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS HOT!”

“YOUR OLD LIFE SUCKED!”

The video then slowly changes colour and the background changes from the pink spiral to a picture of a popular girl. He feels himself start to change. His old personality starts to break down.

”YOU’RE A HOT FOOTBALL PLAYER!”

”YOU LOVE PARTYING!”

”GAY IS DISGUSTING!”

”GIRLS HAVE NICE TITS!”

”YOU COULDN’T EVEN MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH A GIRL.”

He goes into a deep trance as the video goes on. ”YOU HAVE A SUPER HOT GIRLFRIEND!”

”YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT FOOTBALL!”

”YOU HATE MATH!”

”YOU LOVE GOING TO THE GYM!”

”YOUR NAME IS JOSH!”

”YOU CAN STARE AT GIRLS’ TITS!”

”YOU WANT TO HAVE CHILDREN!”

He feels himself become hypnotized by the video and the words. He doesn’t want to stop watching, it feels so good.

”YOU’RE SUPER HUNKY!”

”YOU LOVE LIFTING WEIGHTS!”

”YOU LOVE TO GET DRUNK!”

”YOU HAVE ABS!"

”YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS BEAUTIFUL!”

”YOU HAVE A HOT CHEST!”

”YOU ARE A MAN!”

”YOU ALWAYS HAD A GIRLFRIEND!”

”YOU ARE ONE OF THE HOTTEST GUYS IN SCHOOL!”

”YOU LOVE DRINKING BEER!”

”YOU LOVE FOOTBALL AND SOCCER!”

”YOU NEVER HAD PROBLEMS TALKING TO A GIRL!”

”YOU ARE SUPER STRAIGHT!”

”YOU HATE FEM BOYS!”

”GIRLS WANT YOU!”

His mind started to change drastically.

”YOU LOVE BEING AT PARTIES!”

”YOU LOVE WHEN HOT CHICKS LOOK AT YOU!”

”YOU LOVE WHEN YOU WEAR YOUR FOOTBALL JERSEYS AND JEANS!”

”YOU LOVE WHEN YOU PUT ON YOUR SNEAKERS!"

”YOU HAVE SUPER BIG PECS!”

”GIRLS LOVE YOU!”

”YOU WILL ALWAYS LIKE PUSSY!”

The video then cuts to a picture of one of the bullies, Mason, in his room. Johnny, or Josh, been to his room before, it’s huge, and he’s rich. Mason is very fit and has a nice body and big muscles. The video then shows a picture of his muscles, then his arms, his back, and then his shorts. the audio then says one simple thing.

”YOU’RE HUNG!”

the video then shows a picture, one of Mason’s shorts that are a bit tight. then more words come across the screen that say:

”YOU HAVE BIG ABS!”

”YOU HAVE A WIDE CHEST!”

”YOU HAVE A MASSIVE CHAD!”

”YOU WOKE UP TODAY WITH MASSIVE BALLS!”

”YOU HAVE A THICK GIRTH!”

Suddenly a picture of Cassie appears, she’s a very ditzy and hot Latina cheerleader. The video suddenly then says the words…

“HOT GIRLFRIEND!”

"SHE’S ALL YOURS!"

He starts jerking off when he sees Cassie.

The video then shows pictures of Cassie, on the cheer squad, being a dumb bimbo, during the school day, and selfies.

”SHE’S YOUR GIRL!”

”SHE’S ALL YOURS, YOU’RE A HUNK!”

”SHE’S A SPICY LATINA GIRL!”

”YOUR GIRLFRIEND! YOU WAKE UP WITH HER IN YOUR MANLY BED!”

The video goes on with more pictures of Cassie and talks about his relationship with her. They flash quickly in his mind, pictures of him kissing her, her body against his super big chest, and even him in the locker room talking to her. The video then changes to pictures of football players, with strong bodies and big muscles and tight clothes.

”YOU LOVE FOOTBALL!”

”YOU LOOK HOT IN JERSEYS!”

It switches bac to talking about Cassie.

”SHE’S DUMB!"

”STUPID DITZ!”

Then a picture of his old personality comes on the screen.

”YOU USED TO THINK YOU WOULD NEED A SMART GIRL!”

”YOU THOUGHT YOU NEEDED A GIRLFRIEND YOU COULD TALK TO!”

”NOW YOU KNOW BETTER!"

”YOU WILL ALWAYS DATE DUMB GIRLS!”

”YOUR GIRLFRIEND JUST HAS TO BE DUMB!”

”DUMB CHICKS WITH BIG TITS WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR TYPE.”

He suddenly imagines himself with a new haircut, he suddenly pictures himself with a nice, fluffy, messy, clean haircut, one that girls love. Then a picture comes on the video of his new hair.

”YOU HAVE THE BEST HAIR IN SCHOOL, ONE GIRLS LOVE!”

”WITH YOUR NICER HAIR, AND YOUR CHAD BOY LOOKS, EVERY GIRL WILL FALL FOR YOU!”

The video changes to another picture of him with different hair, it’s dark brown, the perfect colour to make him look good. the video also says...

”YOUR NEW HAIR COLOR MAKES YOU LOOK GREAT”

The video shows more pictures of Johnny/Josh, in different clothes, different colours, and the video gets faster as it keeps spinning. Suddenly his new friends names, Jake, Brady, Austin, and Mason, pop up on the screen.

”YOUR NEW FRIENDS ARE AWESOME.”

”THEY ARE POPULAR, AWESOME, AND COOL!”

”THEY WILL HELP YOU BECOME EVEN MORE AWESOME!”

The video then shows videos of him and his new bully friends at football events, parties, and social events with girls around them.

”EVERY GIRL WANTS A BOYFRIEND LIKE THEM!”

”THOSE GUYS ARE THE ONES WHO ALWAYS GET ATTENTION!”

”YOU NOW LOOK LIKE THEM!”

The video then shows all the things he can do now.

”YOU WILL WEAR YOUR FOOTBALL JERSEY!”

”YOU WILL HAVE A SUPER HOT GIRLFRIEND!”

”YOU WILL BE A FOOTBALL STAR!”

”EVERY GIRL WILL WANT YOU!”

The video then says, one simple thing.

”YOU’RE PERFECT.”

And the video ends!

*THE NEXT DAY*

It’s a normal morning at school, and Josh is at his locker getting ready for his first period when he hears something from behind him.

”Hey bro!” says the person being Josh

"Yo brooo!" Josh replies.

He turns around to see Mason, his new football buddy. He stands at 6’2, super muscular, super good looking, and very cocky. Josh was now 6'1, lean and toned with big pecs, very good looking, and very cocky just like Mason.

”Yo wassup bro?” Asks Mason.

"Not much dude. You?" Josh replies.

Mason leans on the locker next to his as he gives him a smirk, his muscular body facing Josh now.

”Just getting my stuff for soccer. You goin’ to the homecoming dance bro?” He asks.

"Yea dude, I should probably get my soccer stuff too. And yea, course I'm goin' to prom dude! Goin' with Cassie!" Josh replies.

”Oh yeah, you’re gettin’ with that Latina girl, lucky man. I'm goin' with Brittany, Austin's goin' with Valentina, Carter's goin' with Stacy, Jake's goin' with Dana, and Brady's goin' with Emmy!” Mason says.

Josh and Mason grab their stuff and go to soccer field where Jake, Carter, Brady, and Austin were already there. Josh saw Cassie and all their dates in their tight cheer uniforms.

This was Johnny's new life as Josh. And it would be forever!

#male tf story #gay to straight #nerd to jock #male tf

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101maverick · 3 months

Note

Hi! Saw your newest post, so thought I might as well try to help with your writers block :)

How about headcanons of the bat boys dating a broke reader? Alternatively, batboys x bimbo!reader?

Hope this helps you get out of your slump, enjoy the rest of your day and take your time if you ain't up for it :]

A/n: Tysm for the request! Hope you enjoy :)

Dick Grayson

Being resident in Bludhaven, he's financially independent and certainly not rich. He refuses to depend on Bruce.

This means he hasn't got any trust fund money to give you, but he'd definitely help you out any way he can

He'd buy you practical gifts as well as normal ones whenever he's got the chance, and if you're living together the way you divide the living costs would definitely be proportional to your spending power

Dick isn't rich but he's not broke either: the average annual salary for cops in the us is roughly $66.000, but he owns the two-bedroom apartment you live in so the only thing you guys need to pay is taxes and bills, no rent to worry about. You're also not at home for most of the day, seeing as he works as a cop and you have your own job that takes up a good chunk of your day, so the electricity bill isn't very high.

I personally think Reader would not enjoy not having to pay for anything seeing as the money comes out of Dick's own pocket, so she'd at the very least insist on paying for groceries and helping out more in the house with laundry, dishes, cleaning et cetera, to even out the responsibilities as much as possible

He'd support you as much as possible if you're getting a degree, he'd be like your own personal cheerleader, and after you get it he'd organise this huge surprise graduation party for you and then help you get a job in the field of your degree

like if you became a lawyer he'd hook you up with some judges/attorneys he knows aren't corrupt and get you a job in their law firm (paid intern of course, after having worked so hard you want to make it yourself in the world)

I think you two would have tons of fun at the thrift! You wouldn't feel bad about him insisting to spend his money, and you would have the best time just perusing the racks and laughing at all the insane stuff you find plus trying on some genuinely nice clothes

One thing he splurges on though is making sure you have a state-of-the-art home gym, in fact that is why he buys your building's basement and equips it with every work-out machine under the sun plus a trapeze and equipment to practice a ton of other dynamic sports of the sort

————————————

Jason Todd

He's a crime lord so it's safe to say this dude is filthy rich

He obviously doesn't show it though and apart from having a lot of it as an emergency fund for when he needs to defend himself in gang wars I believe he anonymously donates the rest to charities

I go with the canon of Jason being catholic so I believe he gives to the Church, but it could obviously be something else like one of the many Wayne foundations (cause as much as he holds a grudge against his father he knows he's obviously not corrupt and actually helps people)

apart from this he definitely still has a lot of money

He'd refuse to see you struggle financially

He's been through that, he knows how awful it is and does not hear no for an answer when he goes to hand you insane amounts of cash

If you live together then he makes sure to get a nice apartment in the respectable parts of town, blending in with the rest of the neighbourhood to make sure the location is safe and as untraceable as possible

He handles everything and refuses to even let you pay for groceries, insisting that you concentrate on your studies and not worry about having to sustain yourself

To him you guys being a team means that you hold each other up any way you can, and you already support him immensely just by being by his side and loving him, so to him this is just doing his part and supporting you (on top of loving you like crazy of course)

One thing he'd do is make sure your house has enough space to host an insane amount of books though

On this topic I think he'd absolutely spoil you with book hauls, just taking you to every book store you can find and buying piles and piles of books

I'm talking those beautiful gold-leaf covered editions of centuries-old classics, and it doesn't matter if you already have the stories per-se in your library cause it's the edition that matters in this case, ya know?

Like sometimes you want to feel regal and distinguished reading the gold-lined hardcover Commedia, sometimes you want to feel quirky with your penguin edition Jane Eyre, other times you just want to embrace your inner sewer rat and read Macbeth from the shitty mass-produced paperbacks and Jason acknowledges and embraces it

————————————

Tim Drake

Tim, like Jason, is also filthy rich, in virtue of being the owner of Drake Industries and the representative C.E.O. for Bruce at Wayne Enterprises

You'd both live in his Nest, and given the horrendous amount of electricity it consumes it's all already paid for by his company so no need to worry about that

He would only accept "payment" for everything he does for you in the form of you making sure he goes to sleep at decent amounts of time when he's elbow-deep in a case (and tons of love, obviously)

Like Jason, he'd just hands you wads of cash

EXCEPT! He does it for the most mundane stuff. Timothy Jackson Drake is a nepo baby, no way around that. Sure, while he spent his time stalking Batman and Robin through the rougher parts of Gotham he learnt street-safety 101, but he always carried anything he needed for those nightly strolls in his backpack, and he never really learned the real value of money. "$2.70 for a small bottle of water? Sounds reasonable!" is his thought process to this day.

You two would often have these moments of 'culture shock', with Tim slowly discovering how much things should cost every time you two go out to run errands together and you discovering about the insane things the rich buy and do just because Tim decided to recount some childhood stories/told you about some stuff socialites did ad a gala

Since I think Tim's love language is quality time I think he'd take you on these absurd trips whenever possible, that to you are to absurd places but to him it's a very normal trip because "my parents always went there twice a year? It's an extremely normal vacation spot?" Meanwhile it's the Maldives or a private island in Greece or something

This being Tim you also HAVE to have a state-of-the-art phone, with tons of features you will never need to use since you're a civilian but it makes him more at ease, knowing that if the need arises you have the ability to disarm a bomb with the click of a button on your display

————————————

Damian Wayne-Al Ghul

Oh he'd absolutely refuse to have you living anywhere but a castle

It'd take convincing for him to have you living in anything less than a penthouse in the diamond district

He's not against the idea of you working, but he doesn't think that it's necessary for you to slave away at a minimum-wage job while you could be spending all your time in luxury while studying for your degree

After you get your degree he'd help you find a job at one of the most important places for your specialisation, pulling the needed strings just to make sure your resume isn't overlooked (nothing more, he's of the idea that his partner should be strong, plus he believes you to be extremely capable and so thinks that pulling strings to get you the job would be a disservice and an offence to you)

Absolutely spoils you with gifts, and by that I mean: clothes, jewellery, if you like cars he'll buy you a carpark, anything you look at for more than two seconds he'll buy

Damian's way of showing love is through gestures, so you rejecting his gifts would hurt him and he'd take it to mean that you are rejecting him/are unsatisfied with him

Like with Tim, you both would have "Culture shocks" over stuff like the worth of money, lifestyle and stuff like that

Because Damian is basically a royal (or at the very least was raised like one, I don't know what's happened to the LoA in current canon) I think he'd lowkey try to get you an armed guard for when you need to go out as a sign of love lol

"Damian I've been feeling watched while going out as of late" "Don't worry Beloved, that's just the armed guard" "Oh ok-I'm sorry what?!"

Things like anniversaries, birthdays and big events are celebrated in the most lavish settings but in a private way still, like he'll absolutely spoil you and take you to visit this super famous castle for your birthday, matter of fact he'll rent it out for the occasion

For real he does this because when you're alone he can be himself and he loves doing that when you're both experiencing something that makes you happy-- But! Those are head canons for another time hehe >:)

————————————

Bruce Wayne

I believe he's the only one in the bat family who knows the worth of money while having being rich his entire life (ya know, having to use all the disguises he does and going undercover as a normal person a lot of the time)

He definitely offers you a job at Wayne Enterprises, and if you accept he agrees to keeping your relationship under wraps so that no one will start saying that you 'sleep with him for the job'

On that topic if the relationship ever goes public and people start saying that, he will fire them without hesitation

And if it's business partners joking with him about it, he won't stop dealing with them for the sole purpose of covertly crippling their reputation so badly they'll have no choice but to sell their companies to him

You obviously live with him at the Manor, and he insists that everything be paid for by himself only (ya know, richest man in New Jersey and probably the world soooo....)

Bruce is really bad with his emotions, he tends to really repress them whenever he deems them something he's not 'worthy' of feeling or whenever he perceives he has failed at something or failed someone, so the mere fact he confessed his feelings towards you and that he doesn't shun your love is a huge step forward for him. This doesn't mean that he's good at expressing his emotions when he doesn't repress them though, especially not with words.

This is why his main love languages are gift-giving and acts of service, because he shows his love through actions.

Gift-giving as an important love language for him happens because he's very busy both during the day and the night, so sometimes your schedules just don't align or he even has to go off-world with the Justice League and stuff, so he 'makes up' those missed acts of service with lavish gifts

Usually this could be seen as 'throwing money at the problem and hoping it fixes itself' but the thing is that Bruce's gifts are pretty much always spontaneous. He's out and about in his public persona or patrolling as batman, and he sees a storefront with something that reminds him of you or that he thinks you would like. The next logical step is obviously buying it for you as soon as possible and getting it to the manor. Because Bruce is really bad at showing it but the people he loves are always at the forefront of his mind (when he's not being an asshole and repressing his emotions as if the fate of humankind depended on his ability to give his family the cold shoulder and communicating only in grunts and sighs)

———————————— A/n: this was so fun! I love writing head canons because there is no pressure with story flow and how much description and feeling you're putting into it, it's very similar to sharing your thoughts with a friend and that's what endears the format to me so much :) Hope you enjoyed! If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3 Love you all🩷

Total word count: 2009

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mapis-putellas · 16 days

Text

Show off

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader

Words: 1400

Warnings: none

Summary: Alexia challenges you to a pull-up competition.

Notes: this was fun to write. Enjoy <3

[Prompt list]

"Amor, come on!" Alexia complains as she loops her arms around your waist and rests her chin against your shoulder, peppering your face with soft kisses.

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. "Ale, I've already said no. You only want to do it to prove how much stronger you are than me." You pat her hands placatingly as you step out of her arms to continue with folding the laundry.

"What? No. That is not the truth," she exclaims in mock offence as she clutches at her chest. "You have been practicing, yes? At the gym with mapi?"

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to face her. "Yes, I have. But it's been a week. How much progress do you think I would have been able to make in seven days, ale?"

Alexia shrugs as she easily lifts herself onto the counter, "I do not know. A lot?" She kicks her legs absently, ignoring the way you glare at her when her feet -clad in shoes might you add, hit the white cupboards below.

You sigh in relinquishment. "For you, maybe, but I'm very much a beginner. You, my love, are not."

"Sí, I know. But por favor, amor? For me?"

Alexia wasn't one to beg. In your three and a half year relationship, you think you’d only heard her do so a handful of times and the majority of those were in the bedroom. Otherwise, she could be very convincing when coaxing you into doing what she wants, so there was ultimately never any need for her to beg.

"Ale..." You trail off.

Alexia slides off of the counter, her feet landing on the floor with a soft thud. She makes her way over to you, large hands rising to cup your cheeks before leaning down and pressing her lips oh so tenderly against your own. You sigh on resignation as your own hands rise to rest on either side of her waist, fully aware that she had once again gotten her way.

A few moments later you pull away, eyes rolling when you were immediately met with a smirk.

"Okay. We can do a pull-up contest. But I have one condition." You warn.

Alexia nods seriously. "Sí, mi amor. Anything."

"Any teasing, smack talk or bragging, you're on the couch tonight. Understand?"

"Smack talk?" She tilts her head to the side.

You cup her face, tracing the pads of your thumbs beneath her eyes. "It's the act of criticizing another person. Which you will not do to me when you win."

Alexia immediately shakes her head as she takes your hands and places a gentle kiss to the insides of your wrist. "I will not bebé. Promise."

Prior experience has you want wanting to believe her, but figuring you would be nice and give her the benefit of the doubt, you let out a quiet sigh before begrudgingly nodding your head.

You can't help but laugh at the way her face lights up as she all but yanks you into her arms, your feet now dangling in the air as your hands clutch to the back of her shirt.

God, you were such a sucker.

"Okay, okay. When?" You breath, wiggling out of her arms before turning and placing the folded clothes into the laundry basket to be put away later. Or, well, whenever you get around to it if you were being completely honest with yourself. Probably sometime next week.

Your hand was immediately grabbed the second it was unoccupied, and you allow her to pull you out of the kitchen and towards her small home gym. There was a pull-up bar fixed to the doorframe, yoga mats and dumbbells in corner of the room along with many other pieces of equipment you’d yet to learn the names of.

"I will go first, amor," she pulls off her shirt leaving her in a black sports bra and red shorts. "You count, yes?"

Your eyes whip up from where they'd fallen down to her six pack, and you nod silently, watching as she smirks before raising her arms and grabbing onto the pull-up bar with ease. She was going before you could blink, arm muscles becoming more prominent as she lifts herself up and down like it was nothing.

Your eyes somehow seem to drift down to her six pack again on their own accord, and you decide it would probably be best to ignore her laugh so her ego didn't get any bigger than it already was.

She was back on the floor before you could even notice she was done, slightly out of breath as she rubs her hands together and makes her way over to you. Your eyes slowly climb up her body until they were staring into her own.

"Amor, did you count?" She reaches up and closes your mouth, and you flush heavily as you push her hand away and cross your arms against your chest. “You did not, did you?”

"Yes, I did." You feign your assertiveness a lot more confidently than you felt, and Alexia rolls her eyes knowingly as she nods her head in begrudging acceptance.

"How many?"

"Huh?”

“Pull-ups, bebé. How many?”

“Uhh…”

"Let's say, twenty, yes?" She grins, and you sigh dejectedly before nodding.

"Sure. Twenty." There was no way in hell you were going to be able to beat that. Seemingly having more confidence in you than you did in yourself, Alexia coaxes you over to the bar with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

"Ready?" She braces a hand on either side of your waist, and you take a deep breath before nodding and reaching up your arms. She lifts you with ease, making sure you had a good hold before rounding your body and standing a little in front of you.

Ignoring the fact your hands were beginning to burn already, you use all your strength and pull your chin up and over the bar with a quiet grunt.

"Sí. Muy bien bebé." Alexia praises, and you smile slightly as you once again pull yourself up and over the bar. You mange to repeat this three more times before your arms start to burn. Feeling a little pathetic at only being able to complete five pull-ups in comparison to Alexia’s

twenty, you grit your teeth and somehow manage to pull yourself up two before times before sending Alexia a look that says get me down.

Alexia steps forward and loops her dams beneath your behind immediately, and you let out a sigh of relief as you let go of the bar and rub your sore hands together.

Supporting your body with ease, Alexia looks up at you with a proud smile on her face. You can't help but mimic it as you circle your arms around her shoulders.

"Buena chica," she praises, leaning forward and kissing your chest. You flush just slightly. "I did not think you could do that many."

"It was only seven." You shrug.

"No no." Alexia shakes her head as she bounces you up slightly to get a better grip, your legs now hooked around her bare waist. "How many could you do before?"

"One, I think?" you struggle to recall the specific number due to Mapi yelling at you. Carry on chica. You got this! Use those chicken arms! You’d been quite offended honestly.

“Maybe two?" You doubt yourself.

"Exactamente! And you did seven today. That is five more, no? You are getting strong." She grasps your bicep between her hand and gives it a squeeze, making you laugh quietly as your own hands tangle through the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

"Soon I'll be stronger than you." You muse, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

"No, amor," Alexia states seriously, and you tilt your head to the side. "No one is as strong as me."

"Oh, is that so?" You laugh, and Alexia grins smugly as she makes her way back over to the pull-up bar. You stare at her in confusion, aware she was up to something but not knowing what.

"Hold on tight." Is all she says in place of an explanation, and you can't help but yelp when she lets you go and reaches for the bar above you both.

Complying and wrapping your body completely around her own as tight as you physically could, you stare gobsmacked as she begins doing pulls-up with the same ease as before.

"Show off." You grumble, Alexia's laugh echoing around the room.

Tags:

@simp4panos @girlgenius1111 @goldenempyrean @codiemarin

#alexia putellas x reader #soft alexia putellas #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x y/n #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #@lots of pockets > @mapis putellas

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nnight-dances · 2 months

Text

BABYDOLL

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x afab!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive (nothing explicit)

TROPES: gym trainer!cheol, office worker!reader, you have INFJ syndrome until you start thirsting for cheol, mutual pining and perversion, wonwoo and lisa besties to lover side plot

LISTEN TO: babydoll by dominic fike

NOTE: unfortunately yes this is based on a brainrot ive been harboring for a real man but since cheol > all other men so here is my way of coping with it! i hope u like it and lmk what u think <3

You liked to think of yourself as a sane person. If anything, you had always had a reputation of having a good head on your shoulders, as the eldest daughter and the ideal student in class. You lived a life of discipline even out of college, waking up early to clean your apartment before you headed out to work and coming back late to a fridge full of meal-prepped tupperwares.

You're sane. So why is it that you can't bring yourself to behave like it around him?

For some context, you had decided your daily 15-minute walk to your apartment from the subway wasn't cutting it anymore. More than anything, you feel like you needed something more intense for the sake of your stiff body. You'd come home feeling creaky as floorboards and without a concrete plan to keep you in shape, you would end up doing some lousy stretching before hitting the sack.

But today that was going to change. You had enrolled as a member in the nearby gym, a solid place from the looks of it. It was your first time in a gym this fancy, equipped with the best of any machine you could imagine but also an ambient changing room where you looked forward to showering in.

You had come in fully prepared, clad in a workout set that was your favorite shade of green. When you'd pulled it out of your closet after all this time, you felt like the inanimate fabric might actually be thanking you for remembering its existence. You had an adequately sized water bottle that you had set to the side when you'd started your cardio for the day, waiting for the personal trainer the lady at the reception had told you would come meet you in 15.

At exactly the 15 minute mark on your treadmill, you'd felt a presence next to you and to your surprise, it was a man wearing the black shirt everyone working in the gym wore with a little crest on the chest. But this man was particularly… built. You didn't like to be indecent about another person when he had yet to introduce himself but the man before you was right out of your dreams– his shoulders wide, that his shirt did little to hide, and his buff arms that he politely crossed waiting for you to notice him.

You pop the earbud in your left ear out, rushing to turn the treadmill off as you turn to greet him. "Oh, I'm sorry– I didn't see you there– Wait, how did this thing stop–"

"Let me get that for you," the man – the dangerously attractive man – leaned over to press a red button that you should've spotted sooner than you did. The treadmill comes to a stop gradually and you try to think of the different ways you could vanish into thin air.

But then the trainer smiles at your panic-sriken experession revealing his dimples and you think you might faint before you'd had a chance to exercise. "Hi, I'm Seungcheol," he holds out his hand to you when you manage to step off the machine in one piece. "But you can call me Cheol." He points to the name-tag on his shirt– another detail you had missed when you were far too busy being a pervert over the general amazing-ness of his build. The name-tag says cheol in lowercase with a few hand-drawn cherries next to it.

"I'm Y/N," you say quietly, shaking his hand. "Sorry about that, by the way. I promise I'm not usually such a klutz. It's just my first time here so I'm kinda nervous."

Cheol simply blinks at you, "Nothing wrong with being a klutz. That's why I'm here. And as for being nervous…" He looks around at the rows of people on treadmills and various other cardio machines and shrugs. "You'll get a hang of it. Just follow me."

You don't have time to stand around gaping at Cheol's words so you do as he says, especially because you would rather die than have him think you're clumsy. But despite your effort to look put-together, you find your control slipping on the first machine he brings you to. It looks like it should be simple enough, a seat with handles for back-rows. Yet, when you sit on it, you can't seem to find the right position to start and when you do, it all feels wrong.

Then, Cheol comes up behind, a hand on your lower back pushing your spine up straight. His voice is gentle in your ear and you meet his eye in the mirror in front of you. "Hold still for me. Throw your shoulders back and focus on pulling with your back."

You do as he says and he gives you a nod of approval. "Remember to breathe," he says, his fingers now on your shoulders, pulling them back to keep them in the right posture. When you're done with the first set, you feel like you've forgotten how to breathe.

"You must be an office-worker," Cheol comments as he lets you take a minute to breathe.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," you frown.

"It's not the best thing for a person's spine. Makes for a stiff spine and whatnot."

You grimace when his words seem to describe you. "You're right. I can't sit with my spine straight for the life of me. Those back-rows almost sucked the life out of me."

"Then I hope you're ready for two more sets," Cheol chuckles, politely grabbing your precious water bottle out of your hands. "Two more sets," you repeat after him, praying that he actually meant no more sets and said the wrong thing. But he stares at you in the mirror, arms crossed, waiting for you to take your position.

By the time, you're done for the day, you think you might have seen God, with the way Cheol pushes you through the workout, throwing sets of shoulder presses and plank holds at you. He must hate you, you think, wiping the sweat off your neck with a hand towel as you watch him write something down on a notepad you only just noticed. You've been really out of it today, huh?

Still, Cheol's disdain for you aside, you couldn't help but marvel at him. His body was so lithe, lifting weights off the floor for you without a huff and demonstrating the exercises you had to do while narrating the movements like it was nothing. What's more, he had this amazing air of authority about him, not letting you give up on an exercise just because you felt like you couldn't do it. If the last set got physically impossible for you, he'd give you a hand but he didn't let you do anything half-earnestly. In short, he's really fucking cool.

You come to your senses when Cheol says, "All right, that's all for today. Thanks for the hard work." You nod, "Thanks, Cheol." You don't have it in you to say anything about the workout, mainly because you're embarrased at how weak you are so you simply smile an awkward smile and leave the room.

God knows you were the worst version of yourself in there, the complete opposite of the composed woman you were on the outside. It was mortifying, honestly, to be that helpless and in front of a man you were attracted – that might have been your greatest nightmare realized into reality.

Which is why you find yourself at the gym a day later, taking a deep breath before greeting the lady. "Hey, I'm here for my PT session," you start and then clearing your throat, you add, "With trainer Cheol?"

The lady looks surprised when she sees you for a split second but then she grins. "Of course, miss L/N. You're just on time." She types rapidly for another second before nodding at you, "Okay, you can start your 15 minutes of cardio and the trainer will meet you there."

You thank her before heading in, finding it a little strange that she looked surprised to see you but shrugging it off when you're welcomed by the lavender-scented changing room. You note to yourself to start buying more scented candles for your house as you place your bag and hoodie in a locker, taking just your bottle out.

You're a minute from finishing your cardio for the day when you hear your name being called. You turn to find Cheol staring at you with an indecipherable glint in his eyes. His arms are crossed, almost like a signature pose on a game character, muscles glistening under the bright gym lights. You stop the treadmill successfully this time as you wave at him, "Hey!"

"...You're back?"

You frown when you hear the question in his voice, "Yeah? Is that not what I'm supposed to do?"

"I mean…"

"I didn't come in yesterday because I woke up feeling like someone beat me up," you add with a pointed look, "But I think you'll forgive me if your customer retention is that low."

Cheol blinks with a smile gradually consuming his expression. "It's not that– I just didn't expect you to come back because you looked mad when you left last time. And well, office-workers are usually inconsistent so I definitely didn't think I'd see you twice in the same week…"

You cross your arms to match his pose, "I wasn't mad, I was a breath away from dropping dead."

"Right, that makes sense," Cheol agrees proudly and you shake your head, "And you must have a grudge against office-workers."

"I don't. All my friends are office-workers. I've just watched the job suck out all the life out of them so I'm not a fan."

"I think you may have defined the word grudge just now," you point out with a poorly disguised laugh.

Cheol pauses before looking you up and down with a cocked brow. "Someone's in a feisty mood today. I like that, it means you're ready for leg day."

You were not ready for leg day. You used to think that your legs would be strong enough since you'd done your share of squatting and running in your lifetime but faced with Cheol's insane workout set-up, you should've seen this coming. It starts off fine– a normal cycle of squats and lunges. But then he adds weights to the equation, increasing it after each set. Then, he takes you to the machines and makes sure you do each rep right. You have a hard time even walking over to the bench where he wants you to hip thrusts.

For a moment, Cheol's eyes betray softness. "You good? We can stop here if you want."

But for all your groaning and heaving, you weren't quite ready to give up yet, the adrenaline doing wonders to your head. "I can stop when I'm dead. Just tell me what to do next."

Cheol perks up at your challenge, "Okay, soldier, calm your horses. We'll do some hip thrusts now but let's start slow."

"You don't have to take it easy on me," you add, taking the barbell from his hands. He smiles, "Don't worry about that, I'm just getting started." You swallow the viscerality of the reaction that rises at his words and force yourself to get into the right position. Cheol must know what he's doing, towering over you with that nefarious smirk, monitoring your movements strictly while instructing you how exactly to maintain your form.

With your eyes fixed on him, you can't help but feel your mind wander, far beyond your control. You can't blame yourself– this angle is sinful. He looks so delectable with his arms crossed across his chest as usual and legs steadily placed close to yours on the ground in case he had to help you out. You wonder what he's like under the trackpants he sports, about his thighs and what they'd feel like under your palm. You wonder what he'd sound like–

You slip mid-rep with your grip on the barbell going loose and you yelp out as the weight bounces dangerously. Cheol's arm flash before you sight, swiftly grabbing the barbell before it hit your shin, throwing it aside with a loud clank. A few people working out near you give you concerned glances but all you can do is heave out a breathe at the sight of Cheol crouched so close to you.

He hauls you with one brawny arm behind your back, holding you close to his face so he could inspect you. "Are you okay?" he asks you gravely, eyes scanning your torso and then going down your legs.

You must be truly sick because even in this situation, you're thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. Because you're so close to Cheol you can feel his breath against your hot neck and you finally have an excuse to paw against his chest, and feel the sinewy warmth under his shirt.

"I'm fine," you muster, mouth unbelievably dry and Cheol takes the wideness of your gaze to be fear. He rests your body back against the bench and you mourn the loss of his touch silently. But then he presses the back of his hand against your cheek and then pats your head.

"You're fine," he repeats your words but with more conviction, a reassurance. "You scared the shit out of me." You breathe out a chuckle, "Sorry. You'd get into trouble if I got injured under your watch right?"

Cheol stares at you. "That's what you're worried about? Not that you almost lost a leg and a half just now?"

You look away with a flushed face. "No, I was never worried about that. I knew you'd catch it before anything happened."

"You should be more worried, then," he responds with a shake of his head, "I'm not perfect. I won't make it every single time."

"Sorry," you sigh, "I'll be more careful." You're quick to give in, especially because you could not stand the reason behind this mess.

You leave after that with Cheol firmly refusing to go on, with something about not taking more chances. You sense something akin to disappointment in his words and feel a pit in your stomach as you head home. You'd started to bond with him finally, with your determination to show up, but this felt like it put you back to square one. Cheol, as reliable as he was, seemed reluctant to open up to you and where he'd finally started to warm up to you, your slip-up today probably reminded you that you were a customer who he needed to train.

Your sleep is fitful that night because you can't stop thinking about your accident. Can't stop thinking what might have happened if you didn't mess up. And then you picture Cheol and his watchful gaze over you the whole time you're there. God, you feel crazy.

–

"What's crazy is that I got a whole box of them for 20 bucks on sale!" Lisa exclaims. You nod at her anecdote about scoring extremely cheap protein powder that slightly concerned you about the quality of the product your co-worker was consuming. Lisa had caught you that afternoon in the lunch room, awkwardly stretching out your legs. When she grilled you about it, you'd revealed your recent gym membership and the consequent soreness.

"I've heard drinking lemon coffee before workouts is really helpful," she adds with an excited grin. Lisa, as it turns out, was a huge gym rat. "And oh, don't ever go to the gym if you haven't slept at least a good 8 hours."

"What?"

"Yeah, lack of sleep combined with exertion is a nightmare for your body."

You tap your nail on the table nervously, worried that would mean you couldn't go to the gym today. Just then, Wonwoo enters the break room with a knowing chuckle. "What bullshit is Lisa feeding you this time, Y/N?"

"Hey!" Lisa protests, "I'm just sharing my years of advice with her since she just started the gym." Your glares at Lisa go unnoticed as she goes ahead and reveals your newest hobby to the man.

You groan, "You make it sound like such a big deal. It's not, I'm just finding ways to keep myself occupied."

"You must be getting old," Wonwoo says as he slides into a chair next to you. "But if I know anything about the gym, it's that it'll keep you young. Especially with the guys that you'll see there."

You stare at Wonwoo, "What the fuck is wrong with you guys? I can't have one normal conversation around here." The man simply elbows you with a chesire grin, "Oh, come on, Y/N. You're always so proper and put-together, it makes me think you're not even living your life."

You go silent, ears redenning at his words. "Wonwoo, that's a little rude," Lisa accuses him, "Y/N's the coolest member of our team, how could disrespect–"

"I'm not, I just mean that you've achieved most of your goals now," he shrugs, "But you probably have a side that you always keep in check. Maybe you should let go a little?"

–

For all your attempts at ignoring Wonwoo's unsolicited advice, you end up thinking about it the whole day. And the next, when you make your way back to the gym. You're a little reluctant to, given you were still embarrassed about your incident last time. But stupid Wonwoo and his way with words.

You found yourself overthinking your outfit for the day, ending up wearing a baby blue sports bra with a strappy back and black sweatpants. You had to admit that it was quite flattering on your figure, with your back tattoo on display, one that said babydoll in a cursive font, a reference to one of your favorite songs and just generally, a cheeky nudge to whoever was reading in the direction of your preferences.

Today, you spot Cheol across the cardio room but with another client, a tall blonde woman who was jogging leisurely at a speed that would have you gasping for breath. She looked like she was in great shape, a flat stomach revealed by her cropped bra and an ass for days that her shorts accentuated. Cheol looked so different than when he was with you, eyes smiling as he continuously hyped the girl up, a proud beam on his face. You don't think you'd even seen all his teeth on display before.

You force yourself to take a treadmill where you can't see him, turning the music on your earbuds all the way up to get your head straight. But every song you listen to reminds you of him. You ignore it anyway, increasing the speed on your treadmill when you catch a glimpse of him escorting the lady out. He really looked like he was enjoying himself, laughing loudly at something she says in a soft voice. She was in a league of her own. Heck, so was Cheol.

The reminder is unpleasant and you have a hard time putting on a smile when Cheol comes to stand at your side with an expectant grin. But in comparison to before, this grin seems dull and his eyes look like they're calculating something, not delighted. You had a feeling this was going to be another difficult session for you.

"That's a nice outfit," he comments when you turn around to him, covered in sweat from your jealousy-driven run. You don't respond to his compliment, feeling like it was empty and honestly, losing your will to please him after what you'd witnessed. You get off the treadmill with a sigh and roll your shoulders back, "What am I doing today?"

Cheol hesitates for a split second at your curtness but moves on quickly, guiding you to the dumbbells. "Arms and back for the lady today," he announces grandly, handing you two dumbbells labelled 10 lbs. You raise your brows at him, wondering if his decision had anything to do with your exceptionally bare back. Reigning in your curiosity, you do as he says.

The first few sets of various basic exercises go by well, so much so that you catch Cheol mumbling a good job in your ear when you pass him the dumbbells. The compliment goes straight to your head – and well, elsewhere – but you control your thoughts, not when you were finally feeling like yourself and not like a perverted idiot lusting over your hot hym trainer.

But then you're at the back-row machine and you lose your drive, glancing uneasily at Cheol. He simply gestures for you to get started. "You know the drill" are his brief words of explanation.

The first set goes by okay with you struggling to finish the last rep but by the time you're in the middle of the second set, you feel a numbing strain in your back, making it a Herculean task to even tug at the handles. You spot Cheol walking over behind you and the pads of his fingers press into your back, somehow landing exactly where the fabric of your bra left you exposed.

Your eyes jump to his in the mirror, the contact sending a wave of heat to all kinds of places and feeling incredibly inappropriate for some reason. Cheol's eyes remain unyielding when you meet them though, his grip extending to your shoulder to pull them back. "Come on," his words splay out like breath on your neck, "Keep going."

You manage the last few reps with his help, groaning in pain when he finally lets you go. He pulls away as soon as you're done, sqaushing any hopes that you had of him sharing the vibe that you had felt. He even takes a large step away to give you air before the next round. You pout as you closely observe him in the mirror, wondering why he was so cold to you. He had seemed warmer a few days ago when you'd shown up to contradict his expectation, maybe even warmer than he had been with that lady earlier. So how come he's back to being distant now?

"Something on your mind?" Cheol asks, coming to your side, "You've been glaring at me for the past minute."

"Nothing."

"Really? You've been weird this whole time you know," he presses. "It's my duty to make sure you're satisfied as my client. So if I'm doing anything wrong…"

You sigh at his words. Satisfied, huh? If Cheol had even the slightest hint to your thoughts every time you were close to him– God, he'd probably drop you as a client altogether. "I'm fine," you say quietly, looking down at your hands instead of at him. You were doing so well at keeping it together and you didn't want to lose your progress to some whim. "Just tired from work."

"Have you been sleeping okay?"

"As okay as I can."

"Have you considered asking for a day off?"

You scoff, "I'm not on my death bed. A few hours of lost sleep won't kill me."

"It will in the long run," Cheol retorts, lips set in a thin line, "And that's the second time you've talked about dying before giving up with me."

You're starting to wish he would stop with his questions. "I'm not suicidal, Cheol," you start, "And I'm not losing sleep because of work anyway."

"Oh, really? What is then? A guy?"

You scowl at his words, "I'd rather not talk about this anymore. It's not funny."

"Didn't say it was," he mumbles but returns to his stance behind you. You feel his palm on your back again, "Let's go for the last set, then."

You pull hard, getting in a few good reps before your back muscles start to give up again. Cheol's in action, forcing your muscles to stay engaged as you continue pulling him. "Breathe for me, doll, you're doing so well. Just five more reps." Forget the fact that you'd done your required 20 reps of the back rows, when you hear Cheol's praise you feel your energy spike up, somehow pulling off 5 more reps.

He lets go with a chuckle, "I knew you had it in you." You slump over, dropping your head in your hands, reeling. Did you hear him right? Doll? Your stomach turns with butterflies, the thought of him using your tattoo exactly in the way you'd intended – fuck, you think you could give the man the best head of his life right now if he let you.

But instead you pretend to be wiped out as you stand up without making any eye contact with him, crouching over your water bottle and taking a few sips. You realized that Cheol was being himself with you, now that you think about it, his sarcastic jabs and his cynical questioning. He was worried about you but didn't want to burden you with it. But to think that you'd managed to get him to praise you despite his aloofness, it made you want to do unthinkable things.

"All right, let's do some shoulder presses next," Cheol says, deciding you'd had enough of a break. You silently nod, following him to the bench. Surprisingly enough, you make it through the rest of the workout without a hitch, even earning yourself an approving hoot from Cheol along the way.

"You're on fire today, aren't you?" he beams and you want to imprint the sight in your mind. "Come on, I'll have do some good stretching today so you won't wake up feeling like someone beat you up again."

You chuckle at the reference to your earlier comment and gladly follow him to the mats where he guides you through some stretches. Then he perches himself in front of you, holding out his hands. "Give me your hands."

You look at him questioningly and he simply waits. Slowly, you put your hands in his, noticing the way his wrap around yours completely. He's big compared to you, easily pulling you toward him while keeping his feet planted above your knees so you could stretch your spine out. You let out a moan at the feeling in your spine, "That feels good."

His hand wrap around your wrist next, resting them on his shoulders– and you swear to God, he's got to be doing this to you on purpose. All you can think about is his skin under your palms, the hard shoulders that you didn't imagine you'd be touching. He continues to mess with you; his hands are on your shins, massaging their way up your legs– your calves, your knees, your thighs.

You pull away with abruptly and his hands dance back down your legs. Cheol's looking up at you with hooded eyes, as if he can read every thought that's running through your head. "Good?" he asks and the vague nature of the question does nothing to help your situation.

You clear your throat, "Yes. Am I done for the day?"

Cheol makes you suffer through some more stretches, ones where he finds an excuse to get his hands on you– an arm stretch with him pulling you from one side or a back stretch where he crossed your arms down firmly. Your head was all but spinning when you're finally done.

"Okay, you're done. Thanks for the session," he exclaims and as you turn to leave, he stops you with a hand on your elbow. "Oh and– Listen, I don't know what's on your mind but don't worry so much. You're doing great, at least in the gym. Sleep well tonight, doll."

–

The only explanation for Cheol's behavior was that he hated you. Because why else would he enjoy torturing you like this? You had never thought you showing up mad to a session would lead to him doing all that– calling you doll of all things. You had all sorts of thoughts in your head right now and none of them you could voice out loud without embarrassing yourself.

That night, you do sleep well, a little too well even. You have sweet dreams after all, dreaming of Cheol in your bed, climbing up your relaxed figure while his hands trailed up your legs, not stopping at your thighs. They make it all the way and the sound that leaves you is undignified but Cheol meets your mouth like he predicted your reaction. His touch burns you and his tongue leaves you feeling like you were starving. You sweat in his arms, his words sending you over the edge in no time.

You wake up the next morning to a mess in your panties, the sight leaving you truly dumbfounded. If you had thought you had come close to regaining your sanity in the last few days, you might just have lost any such hope. You rush to shower, making it cold on purpose so you could cleanse any dirty thoughts away with the remains of last night.

But Cheol's hold on you is strong, even when he isn't forcing you to go through the last few reps of an exercise. You enter the office in a daze that day, going about your daily tasks without a real thought behind your eyes.

It's only when you overhear a conversation in the break room that you come to your senses.

"I'm thinking of changing my hair," Kazuha tells Katie with a thoughtful hum, "But I don't know what to do." You gaze at the younger girls in front of you. Kazuha had long hair the shade of mocha and Katie sported a short blonde bob that bounced when she peeked over her friend's shoulder to look at her phone.

"Oh, you know what you would suit? Blonde streaks!"

"Really?" Kazuha sounds dubious, "I don't know. I'm more of a dark hair girl."

"I know, that's why I said streaks, stupid," Katie pulls out her phone and scrolls through something that looks like an album of hair pictures. "Something like this– Just your bangs, or the ends of your hair."

Intrigued by the conversation, you approach the pair. "Hey, guys," you let yourself known and the two nod quickly when they see you.

"Oh, hi, Y/N!"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I… I had a question."

Katie looks excited, leaning forward with a sneaky grin. "Sure! What is it? Are you seeing someone?"

"What? No, that's not it," you protest, uneasily playing with your mug. "Um, actually, I was… this is a completely hypothetical question, okay?" The two nod eagerly. "If I was to know a guy who was a gym rat of sorts… What kinds of things would you say might interest him?"

"Interest him?" Kazuha says, "Aren't gym rats only into other gym rats?"

"Yeah, I think so, too," Katie echoes, "When you live for the gym, you'd only want a partner who understands the lifestyle. But I did have this friend…"

She trails off and you prod, "A friend?"

"Well, she had a crush on this guy at her gym so she tried to get his number and he–" she cuts herself off with a light laugh, "He said she was too plain. God, he was an asshole. My friend had the latest hairstyle and everything. She cried over him for a week. I told her not to spend so much money on the membership if she was just going there for a guy…"

You nod, "Right… That sounds awful." Eventually, Kazuha and Katie go back to discussing something on their phones and you excuse yourself.

–

You don't go to the gym for the rest of that week, mainly because you're afraid to see Cheol, still not over the wet dream you'd had of him. Thankfully, there hadn't been any more but just the one occurence had you feeling like you'd committed a crime so you stayed away to keep your conscience clean.

A week later, you finally force yourself out of your guilty spiral and head to the gym. At the reception, you pause before heading in for cardio. "Hey, Seol," you call out and she looks up from the computer. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No, please, ask away."

"Is… Does Cheol have a lot of clients?"

Seol looks amused at your question and takes her time riling you up before saying, "Yes, ma'am. He's one of the top trainers in our gym. Sometimes, we have clients asking to switch over to be trained by him because they see him training other people."

"Ah, I see," you say, keeping your tone as flat as possible, "And can I ask how I ended up with him?"

"Oh, well, it was just good timing," Seol says with a polite smile, "He had a client leave after she got promoted at work so you joining worked perfectly."

You nod at her response, thanking her as you head in. So it was just luck.

You don't know what you had expected– Of course, Cheol was popular. You weren't the only one with eyes around here and looks aside, he was genuinely great at his job. You didn't take that for granted but it didn't help the pit in your stomach, when you realized you were just a replacement client on his roster.

Great. You've been in the gym for less than 10 minutes and the crazies have already started.

To make things even worse, you see Cheol next to another woman yet again. This time she's short, a petite figure with long wavy hair and you almost laugh out loud at the situation. Someone must be playing a sick joke on you because how else was every single one of his clients so much prettier than you?

You have to restrain your thoughts before they dig you any deeper in a hole of self-depreciation so you pick out a treadmill away from them.

"Evening, doll," Cheol pipes up next to you, voice cheery as he pats your arm. You contain yourself as you stop your jog and get off. "Do you have to call me that?" you throw, giving him your best icy stare.

He simply grins, "What? Doll? But it's a cute name."

"I already have a name," you cut in, "And someone might get the wrong idea if they heard you."

Cheol regards you with a glint in his eye. What you would do to hear his thoughts. "There's nothing to get wrong," he finally says, "So don't worry."

If anything, his words are a harsh slap of reality. It brings you back to earth effectively so maybe you ought to thank him for it. You make it through that workout without an indecent though– well, okay, there might have been a few but nothing that was enough to put you in a life-threatening position. In fact, you make it through a whole week's worth of sessions with those words.

It's Friday when it all goes down the drain– your hard work at regaining normality with Cheol and your sanity. You're done for the day and in the middle of packing up, when you see Cheol being approached by a woman. Looking up, you realize it's the tall blonde from a few weeks ago. She speaks quickly and quietly but you hear the words drinks on me tonight.

Your stomach churns and you look away without thinking, hoping to run away before you had to hear any more. But Cheol's voice is clear when he responds, "Sorry, I can't. I'm busy tonight."

You hate the way you're relieved at his rejection, the lack of any remorse in his tone and the way he quickly turns back to you. The blonde woman looks dejected and blinks at his back a few times before leaving.

"Wow," you comment when she's gone, "That was cold."

"You think so?" he asks as if it wasn't clear as day. "I was just making myself clear."

"So you have a no-client dating policy?"

"Nah, not really," Cheol shrugs as he rolls up the mat you had used a few minutes ago. "Plus, she's not even my client anymore."

"Oh," you breathe and then feel a sudden burst of courage run through your veins. "So if I was to ask you out…"

Cheol tilts his head, lips lilting, "What about you asking me out?"

Asshole, of course he's making you spell it out for him. You bite back a smile, "Nothing. Just a thought." With that, you leave him hanging, exiting the gym as if you hadn't proposed to take him out on a date without any real conclusion.

It was complicated, you explain to yourself later. For one, you didn't even think he was into you like that. Sure, he could be touchy and flirty around you when he wanted you, and yeah, maybe he didn't call you anything other than doll, but in real terms, those actions had no meaning behind them. They were just that.

And you didn't enjoy putting yourself out like that– asking someone else out. It had always been the other way around, the guys asking you out after days of you charming them. And where you'd always been anything but yourself with Cheol, you weren't ready to let go of your reputation just yet.

–

Maintaining your reputation takes on a questionable turn that weekend when you pass a hair salon on your way home from shopping for some much-needed home supplies. You stop because the sign outside catches your eye. In flashy bubble letters, it reads GYU'S SALON: come by if you want to rediscover your wild side. You find yourself smiling, hand on the door before you have a second to debate it.

Someone at the counter welcomes you and asks you to wait for a moment while they grab a stylist. You take a seat on the couch and look inside the salon. It's not too packed but there's a few customers, most of them women. You see that most of them are young and the observation comforts you. In particular, you notice a girl taking selfies with her new styled hair– a short layered look with blue ends. It looked cool but too bright for you to pull off.

A kind-looking lady with hair the color of plum approaches you. "Hello, are you here for a hair styling session?"

You stand up, "Ah, yeah, I am. Sorry, I don't have an appointment."

"That's fine, I'm free now," she says with a smile, "You must've seen the sign." You don't how she knows but you simply smile back at her. She nods, "Okay, come with me."

The lady's named April, you find out, and she's the funniest person you've met in a while. She's also an expert in hair, it seems, because she can tell the last time you cut your hair was neary two years ago and even points out that you wash your hair every other day. Eventually, you tell her you want to do something different with your hair but nothing too crazy.

"Define crazy."

"Well, this is my first time dying my hair. But I don't want anything too light and please don't cut my hair too short."

"Gosh, you sure have a lot of demands." Then after a moment of running her hands through your hair, playing with its strands, she comes to a decision. "All right, missy, I have something in mind for you."

Two hours later, you have red hair but not too red. It was the exact shade of wine under the salon lights but when you stepped out of the salon, it was more a dark brown. You'd thanked and tipped April generously for her work because she had come through on her word. In the mirror back at home, you admired your hair. April had trimmed off the ends but made sure your hair retained its length. You didn't regret your decision when you had a whole night to overthink it, thrilled whenever you caught sight of your head in a reflective surface. April might have been God's sweet gift to you.

–

That week you're showered in compliments at work with a coworker stopping at your desk every time they realized it was you sitting there typing away in red hair. You'd been somewhat worried that the change wasn't drastic enough for many to notice but you're proven wrong. Kazuha is the first one you run into that day, meeting her in the elevator and it takes her a glance to notice the new hair.

"Y/N? Your hair is so pretty!" she's spinning you around so she can get a better look, "Oh my God, where'd you get it done? It's amazing." You thank her and vaguely describe the salon you'd found by chance.

Later that evening, you walk unusually slow to the gym, taking your time to dwell on the response you might get from Cheol. You're close to the entrance when you see a familiar figure a few feet away. Before you can confirm your suspicion, you also spot an unmissable head of blonde hair.

It's her again. You feel your heart lurch in your chest as you unwittingly stop in your tracks. She's talking to Cheol, her back to you. If it wasn't for the expression on Cheol's face being a clear one of panic, you might have walked your way without a worry (other than the ones that would've spurred out of jealousy). You aproach them cautiously, wanting to get a better understanding of the situation before interfering.

"...is just mean. You led me on! You told me I was–"

"I'm sorry, Haein, if you feel that way but that's just part of my job," Cheol's voice is strained with suppressed emotions and you speed up, "I need you to stop cornering me–"

"Cheol!" you call out loudly, causing both of them to turn towards you. The blonde, Haein apparently, looks annoyed to find you there and you quietly walk over to Cheol's side. He's quiet when you poke him with your elbow. "What're you doing out here? You're gonna be late to my session!"

"Excuse me, miss, but I was in the middle of–"

"I'm sorry but I pay this guy an unbelievable amount of money to train me," you say in your most obsequious voice, "and I work really hard for the money I make. So unless you're about to pay me more than I pay him just to talk to him, why don't we call it a day here?"

When Haein storms off with a few unintelligible curses your way, you let out a laugh of disbelief. Cheol releases a chuckle from beside you, sighing in relief. "That was–" he starts, "Thanks, Y/N. You saved my ass."

"No worries," you reply, "but I wasn't entirely kidding about what I said. You start showing up late to our sessions and I'll start cutting the paycheck."

"You realize that's not how it works, right? You have to pay the same amount of–"

"I don't care how it works, Cheol," you interrupt him.

"For what it's worth," you hear him say as the two you finally enter the gym through its glass doors. "You were pretty cool back there. I felt so safe and protected with you throwing so many big words at her."

You turn to him with a frown, "Big words? I just talked really fast so she couldn't afford to call my bluff."

Cheol laughs at your confession, "It worked. She looked spooked when she finally ran off."

"So she's been bothering you even after you rejected her?"

"Yeah, looks like she thought we had a thing," he mumbles, "but all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it."

You grimace, waving at Seol who perks up at the sight of you arriving with Cheol. "That's tough. You should do something about it. I won't always be around to save the day, you know?"

"You're right," Cheol teases, "I need to become independent."

You pause in front of the changing room, "Okay, I'll go put my things away–"

Cheol breaks you off when he takes a step too close to you, voice dropping to a whisper. "Your hair's cute, doll. I'm a lucky man to have a pretty girl like you worry about me."

And then, he's gone with a flash of his smirk. As if he hadn't just left your veins blazing with the rush his words had caused. You drop to your knees inside the changing room, legs weaker than a day of working them out under Cheol's supervision. There's just no way he isn't messing with you on purpose, right?

But then you recall his words from earlier– all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it – and you're not so sure anymore. On the one hand, it was objectively not part of his job to call you doll or to have his hands wander your body or to constantly pester you with questions when you seemed out of it or to call you pretty. But at the same time, you couldn't say it was just him being nice to you, making sure you didn't feel unseen.

Your worries find an answer later that day when you're leaving the changing room after another training session. Cheol intercepts you with a look that you've never seen before– uncertainty.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Yeah, sure, what's up?" you let him pull you aside to a more secluded area behind the reception.

"I know you're too humble to take it seriously but I really do owe you one for earlier," Cheol rubs the back of his neck, a boyish grin on his face, "If you hadn't sepped in, I might have had to agree to go out with her."

"Cheol," you sigh, "I just did that because you looked uncomfortable. You don't have to thank–"

"Thanking you isn't enough," he stresses, "I want to repay you."

You cross your arms, the phrasing of his request piquing your curiosity. "And how exactly do you want to repay me?"

"Let me take you out for dinner."

You hate the way your eyes betray surprise at his words, his pleased smile only doing wonders to the adrenaline rush that slapped you. "What?"

"I know a good place near here but it'll be packed today," Cheol pulls out his phone out of his pants, "But if I make a reservation, we'll be able to get in this week."

"I…"

"Is that a yes?" his eyes are focused on yours, waiting for an answer.

"Sure, but is it okay for us to…?" you find yourself unable to complete your question. "Why wouldn't it be?" Cheol tilts his head, "We're both adults and it's consensual."

"I guess you're right," you admit. Cheol places his phone in front of you, "Your number, doll."

–

If you had thought you were insane a few weeks ago, now you were convinced that you were. Ever since you'd exchanged numbers with Cheol, all you could do was stare at his contact. You'd gone simple, just saving him as Cheol, not before you considered adding a cherry emoji next to his name. It was too much, you decided, settling for the plain name instead.

"Whose murder is she planning this time?"

Wonwoo's question brings you out of your daze and you glare at him. "Yours if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Woah," Wonwoo holds up his hands in surrender, glancing at Lisa, "You sure she isn't up to something?"

"She's got a date tonight," Lisa reveals without a hint of hestitation in her voice. You kick the girl under the table, "Lisa! You're just gonna sell me out like that?"

"Sorry, Y/N, but I have a 100% honesty policy with Woo," she sighs, looking at Wonwoo dreamily. Right, you had almost forgotten. After months of pining for each other, the two had finally confessed to each other, becoming the office's newest couple. It was very sweet and also very inconvenient when you wanted to confide in your best friend.

"Remind me to get a new and single best friend," you murmur to yourself. Wonwoo drags a chair across from you, "So who's the lucky guy?"

"There is no guy. Just a funeral. For you."

"You're so funny today, Y/N," Wonwoo has the audacity to laugh, "Is it someone from your gym? No wonder you've been looking leaner these days. A little extra motivation to hit the gym can go a long way."

"I don't know why I bother hiding things anymore," you cave, "and for the record, it's not because of any guy that I'm getting fitter."

You find yourself doubting your own words that night when you're sitting across from the man, keeling over in laughter at something he said about the menu in this place. It's a unique restaurant with moody lighting and square tables for two scattered across the wooden floors. Most of the tables were already filled with couples, peering over a menu together and sharing a glass of wine.

It's unnervingly romantic, you realize as you sit, tucking the tail of your dress under you. Cheol's eyes never leave you, weighing your reactions to the place. "It's so quiet here," you whisper, still surveying your surroundings, feeling hot under his undivided attention. You hadn't been prepared to be this close. Sure, you had been closer to him in the gym but this was your first time with him in a place outside of the gym, where you couldn't pretend your feelings for him were part of an alter ego you'd made up.

Cheol is real right now, his knees brushing against your bares ones under the table. He looks different tonight, clad in a nice navy shirt whose buttons were unsuprisingly strained against his chest. It was unfair how attractive he looked in a plain outfit.

"You like wine?"

You look at him with a start and nod quickly, "Yeah, I do."

"And what about me?" Cheol sneaks the question in, teeth baring as he grins at your panicked expression. "I'm just kidding. Sorry, I can't help it. You're cute when you're embarrassed."

"And you're just as much of an asshole when you're not in the gym."

He shrug, defined collarbone peeking out at you at the movement. "I'm always myself," he tells you.

The night progresses slowly with Cheol taking his time getting to know you, raining you in question after question about your life– when did you start working? Did you have siblings? Why did you move to the city so young? How many exes did you have? What was your favorite kind of coffee?

"You have a dog?" you exclaim when he shows you a photo of a white Maltese with a doting smile on his face. You hit his arm across the table, "Why wasn't that the first thing you told me?"

Cheol laughs with his head thrown back, "Really? That's what gets you? My dog? I'd take you to meet her but she's living with my brother because I got too busy."

"She's so cute, Cheol! I didn't think you of all people would have a dog."

"What do you mean, me of all people?"

You pause before thinking over your words. "You seem… distant. I thought you would like living alone so nobody bothers you."

Cheol sighs at your words, "What have I done for you to have such an impression of me?"

"I don't know, something about the way you're always cynical? Or your general condescending tone? Or that one time when you told me you hated your friends for being office-workers?"

"Okay, so you clearly like exaggerating things," he protests, "I love my friends, I just wish they lived more. And I'm not cynical, just…"

"Realistic?" you finish his sentence, "Trust me, that's what I tell people, too. But it's all a lie."

"You have a lot to say for someone who actually lives all by herself," Cheol accuses you with a sip of his wine, eyes narrowing, "And I feel like you're way colder than I am. It took me a week to get you to start calling me by my name and not just wait for me to look at you when you needed something."

You groan, "Can you not bring that up? I'm still embarrassed about that."

"Cute," he chirps, "But seriously, you're kinda scary when you're in your head. I get the chills when I imagine what you must be like at work."

"You imagine what I'm like at work?" you tease him, leaning back in your chair.

"You're the one who's telling me you're not like this at work," he points out, "Whatever that means."

"It means I'm cool as a cucumber," you finally say, "I'm a little scary but only to people who deserve it. But I'm mostly just cool. Or at least I was."

Cheol waits for you to go on and you scrape at your empty plate with a fork, missing the pasta you had just devoured just so you could distract yourself. "I was cool before I… met you, I guess."

"Really?" Cheol does nothing to hide the glad grin that breaks out on his face, "What did I do?"

"Pushed me to my limit," you roll your eyes, "You forced me out of my comfort zone."

"So in other words, I bring out your wild side?"

You flush at his choice of words, "Well, I don't know if I'd say that but… maybe."

–

Your date with Cheol is a dream; he pays for the meal, walks you out with a hand on your waist. He even kisses you goodnight, a kiss that's on your mind for the longest time. His lips are beyond your dreams, plump and demanding on yours. It's too bad neither of you make another move because the night ends at a kiss.

You can't wait to see him again, but as it turns out the following week means hell for you at work. You're absolutely swamped in your new assignments, with it being the middle of the month. There's increased visits from superiors and your boss insists you attend every meeting, a gesture that promised you that a promotion was in sight.

It's that hope that keeps you going. You pull a few all-nighters to draft various proposals now that you're your boss' direct right-hand, working earnestly to improve the stellar performance that you were finally getting recognition for. It's on Friday evening that your boss finally notices the bags under your eyes, scolding you for pushing yourself hard. She rushes you out of the office, ordering you to take the day off or she'd force you to.

You reluctantly do as she says, feeling hollow when you step outside in the fresh air. Your eyes feel heavy and you can't say you feel like doing much. Then, you remember Cheol's touch on your skin and with rejuvenated enthusiasm, you take your phone out.

You consider texting him but then settle on calling him since he'd be too busy to check his messages. But as it turns out, he's too busy to pick up too. After some thinking, you decide you'd pay him a visit in the gym anyway, ignoring the lightheaded feeling that threatened to consume you.

Seol greets you at the counter, "Y/N! We missed you this week! Are you okay?"

You sigh, "Yeah, sorry. Work stuff. Is Cheol in?" She nods, much to your relief. "Yeah, he's just finishing up with a client. He should be free for a session in 10."

You thank her as you head in. You knew it wasn't the best idea to work out in this state, but all you could suddenly think about was how Cheol might've taken your absence for the week to be your response to the date. And you hated the thought of that, so you rush to the changing room.

You're 5 minutes into walking on the treadmill when Cheol's familiar presence makes itself known. "Y/N?"

"Cheol, hey," you say, slowing down, "Sorry I wasn't in this whole week, I've been really busy with work."

"That's fine, I figured it'd be something like that." You're surprised he takes it so well, even offering you a small smile. Then, he notices the way you look, eyebags and all. "Hey, doll, are you okay? You look tired."

"Oh, I'm fine, just a little out of it."

"Okay, why don't you take a rest?" He stops the machine before you have a say, his arm firmly pulling you off. His hand then comes to rest against your cheek and you smile against his touch. "You're warm, doll. I don't think you should be working out today."

"But–"

"I don't want to hear it," he's pulling you out of the cardio room without hearing you out. "Come with me. Is there a friend you can call to pick you up?"

"Um, sure, but I can just go home on my own–"

"Just do as I say if you want to live to see another day– And I swear to god, if you make another joke about death, I'll hurt you myself."

"Ooh," you coo at him as he enters the elevator with you, hitting the 5th floor. "Threatening me now? Is that how you treat a pretty girl?"

Cheol's breath is shaky when he lets out a sigh, averting his gaze. "What about when the pretty girl ghosts me for a whole week?"

"I told you, Cheol, I was busy–"

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing. I was just scared I did something wrong for a second." He doesn't let you say anything when the elevator opens, continuing, "Anyway, you can rest in my office while your friend comes to get you."

"You have an office?"

Cheol laughs at your shocked question, "Yeah, that's what I get for bringing in the most clients here. Anyway, go in and take a seat. I'll get you something to drink." You walk into his office, bewildered by the room. He had a nicer desk than you did and little polaroids decorated the board next to his window. It was a cozier place than you would expected to find in a gym. You sit in a chair, giggling at a photo of Kkuma on the wall, wearing a bow the same shade of pink as her tongue.

"So adorable," you say under your breath.

"I know I am," Cheol startles you, coming up next you with a bottle of water.

You elbow him away, starting to feel unusually hot out of the blue. "Sorry, I know it's kinda hot," he apologizes, "I asked them to turn the air up but it takes a while for it to actually work."

You don't say anything, focused on getting your vision to stop losing focus and the man takes a seat across from, concern painting his face when he catches your dazed look. "Hey, look at me. Take a deep breath for me. What's wrong?"

"Hot," you mumble, pressing a hand against your sweaty forehead. It felt like the short five minute walk was catching up to you all at once, your heart starting to hammer wildly in your chest. You press against it in pain.

"Doll," Cheol's voice mellows out, his hand taking yours in his. "Drink some water for me." You do as he says, but the water is lukewarm, doing nothing to help. You swallow hard against the dryness in your throat.

"Okay, that's not going to work," he lets out. And then, his hands are your waist, grabbing the fabric of your shirt, "Y/N, I'm going to take your top off, 'kay?"

Even in your queasy state, you manage to jump at his touch on your bare stomach. "Cheol, I…"

"Trust me, doll," he leans down to meet your eyes. "It'll help." With an obedient hum, you let Cheol take control, him peeling the layer of fabric off your skin. You feel much better almost instantly, the warm air hitting your bare skin. You sigh out as you rest your head in your hands.

"Thanks," you breathe, "I feel like shit."

"That's okay." You look up at him when you catch the hitch in his voice. Through the fuzziness in your vision, you see Cheol avoiding your gaze. You reach for his bicep in your confusion, "Cheol."

He turns to you, eyes wavering as they trail down your neck. You feel heat shoot to your neck at his gaze and he coughs awkwardly. "Sorry," his voice is hoarse, "I'm not looking."

"You can," you state boldly, turning to him. You were wearing an old bra, a plain black thing that had kept you company for decades now, the lace in the back unravelling with wear. But the way Cheol looked at you right now, you could've been wearing the fanciest lingerie in season.

"Y/N," he warns you.

You're feeling better by the moment, vision clearing as your body tempertaure returns to normal. But instead of overheating, you find yourself losing focus for a different reason. You shift closer to Cheol, "If you're embarrassed, do something about it."

Your words stun him, his eyes wide as he stares back to make sure you were the one saying them. But all he finds is unbridled lust in your gaze, hand clawing at his knee, begging him to do something, anything that could help your state.

In a flash, Cheol's shirt is off and you drink in the sight before you hungrily. The sight you'd only ever imagined and dreamed about is finally yours to enjoy and you're going to make every moment worth it. When Cheol hears the desperate mewl you let out, he's pulling you close, hands encompassing your waist. You're on his lap before you know, knees hitting the valley of his pelvis.

"Fuck, you're hotter than I imagined," you groan out, hands roaming his bare back. He bites back an undignified sound at your comment, "Doll, you're making this really hard for me."

You feel his body burning up under yours and you're not sure which one of you is out of breath, but you're panting into his mouth the next thing you know. "This is crazy," he mumbles into you and you can't help but chuckle. "I know," you shoot, thumbs on his cheeks, tracing the skin around his lips. "But I think I went crazy the day I set my eyes on you."

Your shameless admission has Cheol groaning into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck. You feel him bury his face in your hair, inhaling deeply before he finds your face again. "You don't know the kinds of thoughts I've had about you," he laughs, eyes hooded, "I can't even think about you without losing it."

You're about to reveal a part of your suffering when your phone starts ringing. When you see Wonwoo's name on the screen, you jump up with a curse. "Shit, it's Wonwoo."

"Who?"

"He's here to pick you up."

"Why?"

You glare at Cheol, "Because you asked me to ask a friend."

"Right," he says slowly, running a hand through his hair. Even now, all you can think is about the way his stomach contracts with the sharpness of his breath. God, you want him so bad.

"I'm gonna ask him to come up here but we should probably get dressed–"

"I don't want to."

You stare at Cheol with a dumbfounded expression. "Cheol, we have to." After much convincing, you manage to get Cheol's shirt back on, just in time for the knock that comes on his door.

"Wonwoo?" you open the door and smile at your friend. Wonwoo looks worried, not returning your greeting. "Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you? You didn't get the day off so you could come here and–"

Wonwoo's reprimand is cut short when he catches sight of the other man in the room, mouth hanging open. "Oh, this is–" you turn to introduce Cheol but he's already at your side, holding his hand out for Wonwoo. "Seungcheol," his voice has dropped a magical two octaves, eyes cold.

"I'm Wonwoo, Y/N's friend," Wonwoo says back, shaking his hand uneasily. "Anyway, let's get you out of here–" Wonwoo's hand is on yours to guide you out when Cheol's breaking between you, sticking his arm out in front of you with a frown.

"Cheol, what're you–"

"Sorry, you don't have to bother. I'll take her home."

You gape at his declaration, attempting to shake some sense into him with a harsh Cheol under your breath. But he remains unyielding, staring at Wonwoo to back off. Your friend looks puzzled and you sigh, "Wonwoo, I'll come with–"

But Wonwoo's taking a step back, a playful glint in his eye, "Oh, wait, I just remembered I have a thing to pick up for the boss before I go home. Sorry, Y/N, you'll be fine, right?" He doesn't even bother waiting to hear you confirm your safety before he's rushing down the stairs, not even bothering with the elevator.

When he's gone, you stare at Cheol's back. "What the fuck was that?"

He turns to you, "We're not done here."

"Really? That's your excuse? I can't believe you made me call Wonwoo all the way out here–"

"That was before you got me all worked up, doll," he snaps, "And to top it all off, you expected me to watch you get escorted out of here by another man? I'm a nice guy but I can't just let him get his hands all over you."

You can't help the laugh that leaves you, "Cheol, are you jealous right now? Wonwoo's a friend and he's–" Before you can tell him that Wonwoo's already dating Lisa, Cheol's lips are on you, shutting you up for good. He pulls away when you're too weak to say anything back. "I'll drive you home, doll, so stop worrying. I'll apologize to your friend if I have to, but let me take care of you tonight."

Cheol's true to his word, watching your every move as he walks you to his car. You wonder for a second if he came from money, to be able to afford such a nice car on a gym trainer's salary and then, lose your train of thought when he leans forward to strap your seatbelt in. Catching the flush on your cheeks, he chuckles softly, "You're too nervous, doll. I'm not going to kill you and bury your body so why don't you relax for me?"

He turns on the music, soft jazz hitting your ears and easing your nerves. You quietly ask, "Are we going to your place?"

"Since I don't know where you live," he says, "My place it is."

Cheol's a good driver, not to your surprise, with you falling asleep in the passenger seat on the drive to his home. He stirs you awake 20 minutes later, smiling, "We're here."

Your suspicions about Cheol's wealth are confirmed when you set foot in his place, convinced he was sitting on a crazy inheritance to afford the huge apartment where he lived. "My parents divorced when I was young," he explains when he understands your inquisitory looks, "And my mom felt bad about leaving my life so this is her way of saying sorry. Showering me with luxury. It's burdening but I love her too much to say no at this point."

"Plus," he adds, coming to cup your hand in his, "I get to impress girls with it."

You laugh at his comment, pushing him away, "I'm sure you've have lots of girls over."

"You're the only one that matters," he insists, "At least the only sick one I've brought home just so I can nurse back to health."

He sits you down on his couch, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'll make you something to eat, okay? Food's the best medicine."

–

In the following weeks, you come to fall even harder for Cheol because outside the gym, he's a man full of love. He meets you after work every day, leading you to his car so you don't have to take the subway, not paying any mind to your protests. He even holds your hand the whole drive back to either of your places, more often his than yours, because he likes to cook you dinner in his kitchen before he makes love to you in his bed.

It's dizzying, being this in love with a man you've lusted after for so long. The sex is mind-blowing, somehow even better than your dreams. You explore his body every second that you can, lips finding their place on his when you're not busy talking. You kiss his back tattoo and tell how much you love it, tracing the lines of the olive tree until you could draw it in your sleep. He shivers under your touch, his tongue on your own tattoo every time you leave your back exposed around him.

"I tried so hard to keep my hands off you the first time you showed up in that backless bra," he admits one evening, circling your tattoo. "Seeing your tattoo made me feel crazy. I could barely think straight that whole day. All I wanted was to feel every inch of your body."

You bury your head in the pillows beneath you, "I knew it! You did that shit on purpose!"

"Of course I did," his large hands roll you off your stomach and onto your back so you're making eye contact with him. "You think I call every pretty client of mine doll? You think I feel all of them up and down?"

"I hoped you didn't," you sigh into his mouth when it inevitably descends on yours.

"You must think I'm a slut if you doubted it for a second," he laughs. You shrug, "You were too hot to not be one."

It's too late to take your words back when Cheol sits up with a pout, "Wow… That's what I get for being into you? You know what–"

"I'm kidding! Cheol, stop, don't go! I was kidding! Hey, come back!"

–

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megamindsecretlair · 7 days

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heyyyy sugarplummm, you already know why i’m here🤭🤭🤭. i’d love to a request for teddy richmond??? im thinking smutty smutty down to the ground, but i NEEDDDD overstimulation from oc to teddy and him tapping out??? some crazy crazy shit LMAOOOO please and thank you, i would forever be in your debt🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

A/N: Hope I did it justice! I read a FILTHY fic from @planetblaque, make sure you check her fic out here! Good & Plenty

Ruined

Pairing: Daddy Dom!Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, face sitting, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.

Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry has been spending more time in the gym lately, preferring to retreat into his head like he often does. Tonight, however, you aim to take his mind off of his worries if only for a little while.

Word Count: 3,232k

AO3 Link

A/N: Ya'll don't ask about this man no more! I need to focus on this book, lordt LOL. He has rotted my brain, enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Your favorite part of your nightly routine was watching Terry workout. He was never more so in his element then when he was pumping iron, blasting his metal music, and in the zone. He became so focused, lifting weights, leg day, arm day, biceps, triceps, and whatever else he managed to hone into a deadly weapon.

You joined him most nights, but quickly became entranced in the way he lifted his body doing pull ups. Or working his legs out on the machine. Your home gym was nothing to sniff at. Making him deck it out in all of the equipment he ever wanted when he got his settlement from Shelby Springs.

You liked using the bike mostly, setting a program, and pretending to ride up the side of a mountain. You were able to zone out, picturing the mountain air and the subtle breeze. It was a wonderful sight to behold but did little in comparison to Terry’s massive form.

Terry had been a little distant lately, spending more and more time in the gym instead of resting. You entered the gym now to find him facing the wall of mirrors along the far wall, watching himself as he lifted heavy weights in his arms, doing curls.

Something was bothering him. You bit your lip as you watched him. What could it be?

He was focused, not even noticing that you were standing in the doorway. He wore a dusky blue tank and black shorts, compression shorts underneath showing off massive thighs. His earphones were in his ear, probably listening to his favorite band.

You thought over what could possibly be his problem… it occurred to you. It was the anniversary of all the shit that went down. Losing his cousin, violence, racism. You sighed, wondering why he didn’t say anything. Then again, he wasn’t the type of man to burden others with his thoughts.

You sauntered into the gym, taking off your pajama shirt as you did so. You wore no bra underneath so you were bare to the heated room. Your eyes were trained on Terry beside you, soaking through his tank top with sweat. The tattoos on his forearm moved with him, the star and moon on his arm curling.

You stopped beside him, taking off your sleep shorts and panties in one fell swoop. You grabbed your own set of weights and went through a series of light reps, stretching out your limbs and loosening up your body.

Terry looked over at you and then faced forward. He did a double take, nearly dropping the weights in his hands. He caught them at the last minute, placing them down on the dumbbell rack.

“What you doing?” He asked, a smirk curving his face. He took out one of his earbuds.

“Working out, what does it look like?” You asked. You didn’t look directly at him, opting to look at him in the mirror. That was easier. Easier to admire his face without having to look at his eyes dead on. Sometimes it seemed like he looked right down to your soul.

He licked his lips, siding up to you. He was huffing with exertion, reaching up to grab your shoulder. You sidestepped him, tsking at him. “You didn’t finish your workout,” you said.

“You gon’ do me like that?” His voice. Good god. He pitched it even lower, sounding put out and superior at the same time.

“Finish your workout. Go on,” you said. You switched up your stretches, adding in lunges and stretching your thighs.

Terry admired what you were doing, the jiggle in your ass, and the sway of your breasts as you moved. He looked at you in the mirror and you smiled at him. He nodded and then yanked off his tank top.

You faltered in your own routine. His body was insanely ripped. Like a lifelike painting. Like an artist painted each and every ab. You admired the way his body moved. Effortless. Easy. His eyes were trained on you as he took off his shorts and compression shorts, letting his dick spring free.

He was already semi-hard, long and thick, as the tip slapped against his inner thigh. He pulled his other earbud out, tapping away on his phone to put on a playlist you both enjoyed to pump through the house’s speakers. “Coming Undone” by Korn began to blast through the speakers and the dirty beat had you feeling excited. The vibrations in the floor tingled your bare feet. He moved back to retrieve his weights, standing beside you as you both got into your workout routines.

No words were spoken as you looked at each other, eyes dragging along each other’s bodies like a physical caress. His wide chest glistened with sweat as he pumped his arms, curling those biceps that you just wanted to sink your teeth into.

Your plan was to take his mind off of things, coax him into relaxing, and then talk about what was in his head. But you were making your own self bothered, staring at his lean hips, thick thighs, and strong legs.

Your pussy throbbed, as you stared at his dick moving with his effort. Wet slick starting to pool between your legs.

You grunted as you lifted shaking arms to put away your weights. You weren’t as skilled as him and that was okay. You would work yourself up to his level. Sculpting your own body the way you wanted.

You free-stretched, lifting your arms above your head and pushing out your chest. The room seemed to get hotter. You felt every inch of Terry’s gaze on your body. Everywhere his eyes roamed, your body tingled. You were connected to him on a deep, spiritual level.

Terry put away his own weights, the metal clanging above the music playing. The song continued to blast, making your body sway to the chorus. Terry stalked forward, licking his lips, eyes looking his fill as he approached you.

“Time for pushups,” you said.

Terry smirked, encroaching into your personal space. He leaned down to kiss you and you turned your head at the last minute, making him kiss your cheek. He chuckled. “You think you’re cute,” he said against your skin.

You shrugged, a big smile on your face. “Just a little,” you said. You pinched your fingers to show him how much. He laughed, sinking down to his knees. He got into position, facing the mirrors. You climbed onto his back. He tested a few push ups before flicking his eyes towards yours in the mirror.

Wordlessly, he began. He lifted you with ease, not a grunt on him as he kept going, kept pumping his arms. Sweat dripped from his face. You felt his muscles bunch between your legs. You giggled, excited from the high of being lifted on his powerful back.

“Good Daddy,” you purred on top of him.

Terry stopped, staring at you. You smirked and leaned forward, redistributing your weight so you didn’t hurt him. You licked the shell of his ear and he shivered from head to foot. “Such a good Daddy to me,” you moaned in his ear.

Terry shook his head, starting up the push ups again. You rubbed his back, caressing him, scratching your nails against his skin. He groaned, body shuddering again. You continued to tease him, running your nails anywhere you could touch.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

“I can’t wait until you’re all done, sweaty, feeding me that long dick of yours,” you purred in his ear.

Terry stopped again, arms extended. He smirked at you. God, he was fucking beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. He literally took your breath away whenever you saw him. A sigh carried off in the wind.

Music thumped as you looked at each other. Your thoughts were probably broadcast all over your face. You took a quick peek at yourself. You were perched on top of him like a lazy, feline goddess. Brown skin gleaming, eyes low, bottom lip between your teeth. You looked so pretty like this. Felt pretty. Felt amazing because he made you feel like you were flying every time you were with him.

You moaned, thinking of him. Of how wonderful he truly was to you. An entire gift. You rubbed yourself on his back, finding that little bit of friction to keep you going. “Oh shit,” you moaned, head falling forward onto his shoulder. You moaned, getting yourself there.

“Hol’ up.” Terry’s rough voice cut through your fog. He lowered himself to the ground and he rolled to the side to let you off. You climbed off of him and then faced him on the floor.

“You think you get to play with what’s mine?” He asked. He got to his feet, pulling you up with him.

Your thighs tingled as he stepped into your personal space. He grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the weight bench. He straddled it, laying down. You hopped onto him, and he groaned. He must feel the slick between your thighs rubbing against his stomach. His muscles flexed beneath you and you closed your eyes, pussy fluttering.

“Mine,” he growled, winking at you. He pulled you to slide over onto his face, lips sliding through your folds.

“Oh, god,” you sighed and moaned.

Terry hummed, licking his lips. You felt the entire motion, pussy growing wetter from the action. He began to lick you in earnest, moaning between your legs. You gripped onto the weight bar above the bench, held on for dear life, as your legs shook.

The song switched to “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. Terry followed the erratic beat, flicking his tongue across your clit rapidly, making you shake and twitch on top of him. “Oh, fuck, Terry, shit, oh fuck,” you moaned.

Terry chuckled, gripping onto your ass and spreading your ass cheeks. Terry wrapped his lips around your clit and suckled. You screamed, your toes pushing you off of him from the ground. Terry held on, using his tongue to tease around your entrance.

Stars were blinking on and off in your mind’s eye, lower belly burning with desire. “Terry,” you begged, voice weak and pathetic. Oh fuck, you were about to cum. You began to sink onto his face, putting all your weight down when Terry moved his lips. He pulled away from your entrance right before you were about to cum.

You groaned, leaning back to look at his eyes. There was something deeply erotic about those mesmerizing eyes staring up at you from between your thick thighs. He winked at you and then pushed you off of him.

He sat up so that you straddled his lap. “Ready to stop playing games?” He asked, wiping your essence off.

“Who’s playing?” You asked. You blinked at him innocently, wrapping your arms around his neck. His dick was nestled in your ass, growing harder as you rubbed yourself against him. He hissed, hands flying to your waist to steady you.

You kept moving, kept rocking and rolling your hips so that your wet pussy rubbed against him. “Baby, the games have just begun,” you leaned down and whispered in his ear.

He pulled back, his eyes crinkling as a smile split his face. It was a predatory grin, full of evil intent as he kissed you. You sighed, nibbling on his big, juicy lips. He suckled your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moaned, canting your hips forward once again.

“Another Way” by Sleep Theory came on, turning up the heat. The heavy beginning reverberated under your skin as you scratched at his nape. You moaned into each other’s mouths. Terry’s hands on your waist were no longer hindering you from rubbing on him, grinding on him.

Terry cursed, his hand slipping between your legs. “Good fuckin’ girl. Getting wet for Daddy,” he said in awe.

“You make me so fuckin’ horny, I can’t stand it,” you confessed, capturing his lips with yours again. It was all true. The way his body felt beneath your questing fingers. Tracing every vein, every muscle, every inch of skin. It all served to turn you on more, drive your desire higher, reaching new heights.

“Let me train that throat,” he said, more of a command than a question. You smirked as you slid off of him, already planning your method of attack.

Terry scooted forward on the weight bench, and you gripped his thighs for stability as you lowered to the floor. You smiled, grabbed his dick, and rubbed the bead of pre-cum across your lips.

Terry moaned, licked his lips, tilting his head at you. Your pussy throbbed at the way it made his eyes narrow, made him look cocky. You aimed to change that. You opened your mouth, sucking him down and he groaned as you took him down to the base.

It was hard, no lie, considering his size. But fuck, you were greedy. You breathed through your nose and then slowly dragged him out of your mouth, making sure to lick every inch of him.

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back. He grabbed the sides of your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek, before moving your head faster, making you take more of him.

Silly boy. You resisted, pushing against his hold. He grunted before he let up and that’s when you took over. Giving him the sloppiest, messiest, nastiest head you’d ever given him. “Shit, let me get out yo way,” he breathed, his moans competing with the sounds of the song playing in the background.

You stroked him as you sucked him off, his tip leaking cum. The salty taste of him made you moan, made your thighs tingle. You moved your fingers between your folds, rubbing your own clit as you sucked him off.

Curses flew from his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. Fuck, he was perfect. Absolutely perfect. His mouth dropped open, jaw going slack. He groaned, eyes crinkling with the effort. You took him deep, near gagging, bobbing up and down on his length like you were trying to suck the soul out of his body.

“Shit, slow down,” he said, voice growing needy.

You didn’t listen. You kept going, kept going faster, shaking with the effort. Rocking back and forth on your fingers and bringing your own pleasure back to the front. Back from where he teased.

“Damn girl,” he moaned. His jaw flexed with restrained effort. You moaned around his dick, humming, flicking your tongue across his sensitive tip. You suckled him there, drooling. Your saliva and his pre-cum dribbled down your chin. You locked eyes with him, spat on his dick, and then sucked him back down. Returning to the pace you set, sucking with extra pressure.

“Fuck, fuck,” he panted, his hips pushing up. He tapped your cheek softly and you reluctantly pulled off of him. His huffing breaths were better than the music. His eyes turned deep blue like a lagoon, drunk with pleasure.

His eyes narrowed, staring at you like you stole something. You licked your lips, licking up any extra taste of him. He watched you do it, before he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to him.

He kissed you, lips soft and sweet. You opened your mouth to him, to his exploring tongue, to the bite of his teeth. You moaned, hands trapped by your side.

He stood up abruptly, pulling you over to the mirrors. He wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing your back against the cold, smooth glass.

You yelped, trying to get away from it. Your skin was too heated for it, too sensitive. “Terry, please,” you moaned.

“My turn, baby girl,” he said. He grinned, sliding into you with no preamble. Your mouth dropped open with a scream as he split you open.

“T-T-,”

“Shh, shh, Daddy’s got you,” he cooed as he moved in you like he was punishing you. He was relentless, moving like a jackhammer. Like a well-oiled machine. He held your legs spread open, taking his dick.

“T-too, mu-uch,” you cried, pussy flooding his dick. He was pounding into you so good, your vision turned black. Your ears began to ring. Your back tapped the mirror, shaking it, with the force of his deep thrusts.

“Too much?” He asked.

You held onto his shoulder, nails digging. “Too good, too good,” you moaned.

He moaned with you, synching up your sounds and bringing a new level of intimacy to the moment. He stared in your eyes, nose to nose, heavy breaths fanning across each other’s faces. The wet, dripping mess you made was leaking down your ass and leg, growing wetter.

“How ‘bout now?” He asked. He increased his thrusts, angling you so that he was fucking up into you. The tip of his dick rubbed against a deep spot inside of you, rubbing up into you and making you see stars again. His dick was huge, splitting you, and god it felt so fucking amazing.

“Meanie,” you whimpered, grip growing weak.

Terry kissed along your jaw, your cheeks. “So fuckin’ pretty. So fuckin’ good for me. Such a good girl, creamin’ on this dick. You always know just what Daddy needs, huh?” He asked.

“Daddy, please! Please let me cum, please, please,” You begged.

His dick throbbed and you crumpled, falling into that abyss of pleasure. Where it filled up your entire being. All of the teasing and edging just sent you overboard, losing yourself and finding yourself in an endless loop of give and take. You twitched and jerked, moaning loud in his ear.

“Fuck. Grip that shit. Show Daddy you love it,” he said. “Show me. Show me.” His thrusts grew frenzied, hips out of alignment, as he lifted one of your legs higher on his hip and then groaned as he climaxed.

His hot, pulsing seed filled you to the brim. “Ahh, that’s my good girl. Take all of me,” he cooed.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

You lazily found each other’s lips. He stilled against you, deeply lodged inside like he lived there. Like he didn’t want to leave. Hell, you didn’t want him to leave either. If you could live like this, you would. Never going a moment without him buried in your pussy where he belonged. Where he was always meant to be.

Terry kissed your temple and slowly, so slowly, pulled out of you. He looked down as he watched himself exit, a thick load of cum spilling out behind him. Your pussy contracted, trying to push him all out. You shivered as the cum slipped down, leaking onto the ground.

“Ruined,” he said, smug smile to accompany his words. You looked up at him and kissed him, needing his lips on yours just one more time.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered against his lips. He smiled against yours, leaning back just far enough to look you in the eye.

“I think I have a few ideas for the sauna,” he said.

“The sauna?” You asked. He fucked you so well, you didn’t think you could walk straight at the moment. However, there were plenty of areas to sit in the sauna. Light bulbs flashed in your mind, thinking of what dirty schemes he was up to.

Terry grinned, turning away from the mirrors and heading towards the sauna. You giggled and talked to him the entire way there.

The end.