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darlingdarkly · 8 months

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New Year, New You Part 4

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.9k words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes, Exhibitionism without any exhibition

Part: 1, 3, 5

It’s too late for things to change, you see that now. He’s taken it to the next level, one you couldn’t possibly have imagined. Time has passed and as it did the situation between you has progressed. You don’t make videos of your homework assignments anymore, Johnny oversees them. Your sessions, while they’re still structured and progressive towards your goals, the goals he’d set for you, they’re now spaced intermittently with chaste make out sessions.

You pushed your limits on your reps, doing fifteen of an exercise instead of ten? Make out session. You stretched just a bit further, legs nearly full split? His lips crash to yours in bruising haste. You ran a full twenty minutes with no rest? His tongue is in your mouth, exploring the depths of it, using the advantage of your jelly legs to push you how he wants you. You can see what he’s doing, you’re not blind.

He’s Pavlovian in his tactics, positive reinforcement, emphasis on the force, but it's working. You find yourself pushing your limits, just to feel the push of his lips. Driving yourself farther, faster, better so he’ll drive you up against the wall.

It’s debilitating, the intensity of his kisses. They have a certain dizzying quality that makes it hard to resist or think or even breathe really. What you haven’t done is fuck, and that’s not for a lack of trying. Johnny has, on multiple occasions, initiated but you kept finding ways out.

Several occasions he’s pushed a hand down your sweats, fingers rubbing against your clit in heated circles. Brazenly out in the middle of the gym he’ll pull you back against him, to the outward eye it appears he’s just correcting your form but in reality all he’s really doing is rubbing his hard cock against the back of your thighs, enticingly. It’s a promise, a tease to your ruination. He’s hungry, had one taste of seeing you fall apart and now he’s on a warpath to make it happen around his cock.

But you’re stalling, nothing, besides heated kisses and frenzied groping has happened since your FaceTime encounter and you can feel Johnny growing impatient. It’s been a week since you walked into Baliquinox for the first time and you think it’d be like any other session but when you come in Johnny has a small gift bag in his hand and waves you over excitedly.

You sit down at your usual table with him and he pushes the bag across the tabletop towards you, giddy with excitement like the gifts for him even though you’re the one opening it. You pull away the tissue paper to reveal a small box, you pull it out and immediately recognize it, ads have been popping up on your Spotify for months for the FitBit luxe. It’s gold and gorgeous but also pricey, you know because you looked at them before Christmas as a present for your mom.

The one he’d gifted you is literally the newest, most expensive model, with a regular pink wristband and interchangeable soft gold chain to dress it up. You stare at the watch as he begins to explain its features. He tells you it tracks your vitals, sleep patterns and exercises. It counts your steps, monitors your breathing and stress levels, it’s also waterproof and has a five day battery, on top of that you can get your call and text notifications through it, it’s GPS enabled to track your miles, pacing and the route you took on your walk or run, the damn thing can even track your menstrual cycles for you.

“Oh gosh, Johnny. I don’t know what to say.” He reaches across the small table and takes the box from your hands, opening it and pulling the watch out, the gold chain already attached. “Dinnae have tae, just put it on.” So you do, holding your wrist out while he attaches the high tech jewelry to your arm, You push the button on the side and the little screen lights up, your name flashes across the screen in a beautiful gold scroll before the sensors against your skin already begin picking up on your heartbeat and breathing rate.

Johnny must have programmed it before giving it to you. You thank him, a bit bashful at the expensive gift and let him kiss you when he comes around the table to grab the empty gift bag and box from you. It’s slow but passionate and he chuckles as he pulls away and your new watch beeps, indicating the upward tick in your bpm.

He ushers you away towards the women’s locker room to change and you can’t help but admire the new weight on your wrist, it’s certainly beautiful. You’re pretty sure you read that they are supposed to be paired with a phone, you’ll have to figure it out later. You quickly change and head into the gym, finding Johnny by the machines.

He pulls you over to the mats to start your warmups and stretches. You’ve made progress since you’ve started, your warmups you now have down to a tee and your stretches nearing a full split without whines or whimpers. When it’s time for your first exercise he guided you to the pull up bar, something you haven’t tried yet.

You stand to the side and watch as he demonstrates. Jumping up to catch the bar and pulling himself up until his chin is over the top of it. He drops and repeats, arms flexing as he effortlessly completes rep after rep. His shirt keeps riding up his body with each lift, exposing the flat, toned expanse of his stomach, there’s a dark trail of sparse hair leading down into his shorts, but you remember where it goes from there, growing thicker as it wraps around the base of his cock. You find yourself thinking about it, that night, you’ve been thinking about it a lot actually, every time you pull your vibrator out of the drawer you come to the thought of him watching you. Those baby blues roaming your body, hungry.

You’re pulled from your erotic daydreams by the beep of your watch and Johnny lets go of the bar, standing before you with a sly smirk. “See something ye like, bonnie?” Stupid watch. How were you ever going to get through today with it going off every five minutes and giving you away? He pulled you unnecessarily close to press a few buttons on the gadget and turned it on to activity mode so it’d stop doing that every time it spiked, but not before it sounded off once more with the effect he was having on your body at this proximity.

“Yer turn.” You walk in front of the pull up bar and spin around, facing him. His eyes hold yours as you jump and grab hold of the bar with both hands, dangling from it. He walks forward and his hands brush the exposed skin of your hips and it makes you shudder. “Good, now up.” You lift, the first half is easy but the last four or five inches to get your chin over the bar are the worst.

It doesn’t help he’s so close, never having backed up and you realize his mouth is level with your pussy at the moment. You come down from your first rep and are ready to let go but you know you can’t do just one. “Come on, lass. Again.” You do as he says, lifting your body weight with nothing more than the strength of your arms.

Those last few inches are a strain and you’re not sure you’ll make it, arms quivering as you pull your chin up over it again, your arms go numb and you bring yourself back down but you know you’ve got one more. He can see you’re struggling though and wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs.

“Last one hen.” You lift and you can feel his hands push up on the globes of your ass, gently assisting you. It helps but also doesn’t make it any easier as your whole body shakes with the effort of those last few inches. You’re stuck at mouth level, that last inch it takes to get your chin over the bar looks impossible but then you feel his mouth on the exposed skin of your stomach, kissing you right over your waistline, the soft curve of his lips caressing you ever so lightly and the jolt it gives you pushes you over the top and he allows you to drop, singing praises and pulling your limp body against his.

“So good fer me, bonnie. Ye did so good.” He lifts your chin from his chest and kisses you, his mouth swallowing yours and instead of just basking in it, letting him damn near consume you like usual you kiss back, matching his pace and pushing your tongue in his mouth for a change. He growls and it’s a rumble you can feel as well as hear, a rockslide in his chest. When you pull away his eyes are deadly serious and that little voice in the back of your head is screaming at you that it’s dangerous, like eyeing up a predator but something else in you is failing to care.

You’ve had about enough of this little game. The back and forth, the teasing touches, the soaked panties. You don’t avert your gaze and his head tilts just slightly, challenging. It’s visceral and exhilarating this line you can see drawn in the sand before you as you anticipate the crossing of it. You reach forward with bold, calmness and glide your hand along the imprint of his cock, teasingly fondling the length.

You had meant to just tease him back a little, give him a taste of his own medicine for once but the effects were more drastic than you’d anticipated and the reaction was immediate. It’s the first time you’ve ever shown him any kind of sexual initiative and it’s all it takes. Suddenly he’s dragging you through the gym with urgency. You think you know where he’s going until he makes a detour, hauling you down the hall and into one of the big glass rooms where classes took place that was currently empty.

You watched as he picked the tablet up from its place by the door. He made a few successive taps on the screen and you watched as the glass took on a dim sheer, graying over slightly. The expanse of the hallway was still visible to you but you knew, just as you had seen walking into the gym for the first time that if you were to walk outside you’d see nothing through the glass but opaque grayness.

You had just a moment to marvel at this before he was on you, your face pressed up against the cool surface, hands caught by his behind your back, ass pressed into the seat of his crotch, you could feel something hard there, poking you. He spoke just behind you, the heat of his breath puffing at the shell of your ear.

“Yer playing a dangerous game, hen.” It sends a shiver down your spine, the threat and its delivery, but it fails to unnerve you. You’ve made your bed and are more than ready to lie in it, there’s just one more thing holding you back.

“I want you to tell me something Johnny.” And you can tell he’s growing impatient by the intensity of his thrusts against your ass and thighs, rutting into you through your clothes.

“Ah’ll tell ye the last four of mah NINO if ye want. Anything, jus’ name it.” There’s a moment of anxious hesitation on your part, unsure of where things will go depending on his response, or even if you want to know what he’s going to say in the first place, but you didn’t come this far to chicken out now.

“Why did you pick me out? Why did you choose me?” And he must approve of the question because he chuckles darkly in your ear, moving your body back from the glass to begin stripping you as he answers.

“Ye wanna ken why I singled ye out, hmm? Why I chose ye?” He’s pulled your shirt off and he’s working at the hem of your sports bra, freeing your breasts to the cool air, your mind freezes, your first instinct is to cover yourself, there’s people walking up and down the hallway constantly. Strolling right by as you stand half naked with nothing but an inch of glass and a special electronic filter to shield you from sight.

It shouldn’t make you this wet, being stark naked in front of strangers, strangers who you know can’t see you but you can see them, commuting through the gym like normal while you’re bare and on sinful display behind the glass, but it does. He’s working at your sweats, pulling them down your legs, stooping down as he does to kiss your skin as it’s freshly exposed.

Between kisses he answers. “At first it was just attraction, when ye looked up into me eyes while ye were jogging. I felt something, this urge, I had to have ye. Then after yer exam ye dinnae run away or complain, jus’ did as I asked an’ took everything I gave ye like a good lass.”

He’s tugging at your panties now, stopping long enough to groan and bite into one of your ass cheeks, making you squeal and instinctively push forward into the glass. Your bare tits and thighs smush obscenely against the cool surface, nipples beginning to pebble from the cold as he moves forward to keep you pressed there. One hand coming around to secure itself around your throat like a collar, the other kneading at the flesh of your ass, pulling it apart and releasing it to enjoy the jiggle.

“I dinnae ken if ye’d even come in the next day, but there ye were, and I ken right then that ye were mine. Everything from there jus’ solidified it. The way ye answered all mah questions, even if ye tried to cover it up by complainin’ about bein’ spoke tae that way. When I broke into yer house and ye dinnae call the police, jus’ called me tae yell at me then came all nice and pretty for me while I watched.”

You were filled with mixed emotions. Shock, shame, growing horror, but most of all, overtaking the rest was arousal, pure lust. You sucked in a breath as his fingers dipped down, stark naked as you were, it’s all it took to feel the evidence of it as it coated your thighs. He pulls his fingers out, wet with your juices and licks them clean right behind your ear. “Even now I’ve got ye stripped naked and absolutely soaked, and ah’m still fully dressed.”

He’s right, there’s no way to hide or deny it. “Yer just as dirty an’ fucked up as I am, aren’t ye hen?” He slides a finger past your lips, breaching you and you can’t help the moan that spills out, eyes closing in self indulgence, the pleasure staining your self conscious inhibitions, muddling them. He gets closer, harsh and gruff in your ear, demanding an answer. “Aren’t ye?” You whine out a yes that sounds pathetic even to your own ears.

He pulls the digit out and the warmth of his chest disappears from your back, making your eyes blink open and needy whimpers escape your lips. “Dinnae whine, greedy thing.” He presses back up against you, the hard length of him slotted between your thighs, you feel him for just a moment, rubbing the tip up and down your soaked slit before he’s pushing in, full length buried deep in one brutish thrust.

It has your back arching, head falling back against his shoulder as your mouth drops open and a hearty low moan flies from your throat like an uncaged bird. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he gives you time to adjust. When your head dips forward he begins, sawing in and out of you slowly at first, making you groan with each fully sheathed thrust.

“Johnny, please.” He leans forward and nips at the skin of your nape, assaulting your neck and ear with his lips and teeth as he picks up the pace, giving you what you asked for. It feels euphoric, the full stretch of his cock and it puts all the thoughts you’ve had of him, the erotic daydreams, the nights spent touching yourself to the thoughts of what it’d be like to shame.

He’s attentive and sensual, listening intently for which of his movements drive you wild. Your head dips forward and you close your eyes but he’s not having it, gripping you beneath the chin and forcing your head up, eyes opening as he growls in your ear from behind. “Look at them, hen. Can ye imagine what’d they think if they could see ye right now? See this body, beautiful and bare like I can.” His arm slips down and around the back of your thigh, grabbing purchase in the pit of your knee and lifting, your leg comes up, hiked up level to your hip and he holds it there while he fucks into you from behind. You’re pleasantly surprised at the ease in which you can maneuver this way, those stretches finally paying off, almost like it was planned from the start.

The new angle makes him able to slide devastatingly deep, your body jolting with each thrust, moans quickly filling the room, yours and his. You remember seeing the people dancing, their bodies in sync to the music you could feel in your feet but was inaudible to you from outside and was suddenly glad for it as he pulled all the way out before thrusting back in with the snap of his hips and you let out a startled and involuntary noise that was half moan, half scream.

“Sound so good like this, panting an’ moaning like a bitch in heat fer me. Squeezin’ me so tight, does it feel good lass? Better than yer fingers?” You’re beyond words at the moment so you just give him a frenzied nod, head leaning forward to rest on the glass as he lays waste to your cognitive ability. But then he stops moving and it all comes back, although the only thing you can articulate at the moment is whines of his name and pathetic pleas for him to keep going.

“Asked ye a question, lass.” Your mind reels and you start babbling, a series of yeses and broken sentences, anything to get him to start again. His hand snakes up and laces his fingers between yours, as the other keeps a firm grip on your knee, spreading you nice and wide for him.

He picks up a breakneck pace, hips stuttering into yours violently as you just try to hang in there, you can feel it, your orgasm building rapidly. He can feel it too, the way your pussy clenches down around him as you beg him not to stop. “Are ye close, bonnie? Gonna fall apart all over mah cock?” You don’t dare leave him waiting, chanting out affirmations like prayers falling from your lips, if he stopped now you may have a meltdown.

“Do it fer me, hen. Let me feel ye come fer me.” You’re thrown over the edge, whole body tense as he drives you through, quite possibly, the most violent orgasm of your life. Your legs shake in his hold, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back over his shoulder as you all but collapse against him. He holds you up and doesn’t stop, pushing you through it and out the other side into overstimulation.

Your constant moans just spur him on, he can feel his own release building slowly. “What’s my rule on sets, hen?” Your fuzzy brain is having trouble grasping his question, or even the relevancy of it, until it dawns on you and he must feel you stiffen as the implication of it sets in. “Aye that’s right. Tell me.”

You answer in a quiet whisper but he lets it slide. “Sets of three, always.” He drops your leg and the combination of the blood rushing back in, tingling like static and the continued drag of his cock is mind numbing. “Aye, good girl. Sets of three. One down, two tae go.”

His hands come down to grip your hips, pulling you back into each thrust with force. You brace yourself against the glass, the side of your face and both palms of your hands pushed up against it as he ruts into you without mercy or ceremony.

You watch as a set of women pass by the room, their eyes seem to pass right over you without seeing and they stop momentarily in front of the glass for one to share something on their phone with the group, their eyes all widen and they mime a fit of giggles and continue on, unaware of your ruination inches away.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and lightly tugs, pulling your face back from the glass, at this new angle your nipples make brief contact with the glass on every inward push and it drives you ever closer to careening off the edge for a second time. “Johnny! I’m- ah! I’m fucking close! Fuck!” He keeps thrusting into you until you squeeze him for dear life a second time, only then does he pick up the pace, relishing in the way he can alter the pitch of your moans by the little variations in his thrusts.

You’re fucked out, lost to bliss and delirium as you come down from your second orgasm. You can’t possibly see how he could pull another from you until he leans forward, hand sliding down your body until his fingers find your clit and your body involuntarily jerks from the touch, but he just reaches out again and finds it, muscling you into place so you can’t buck away.

“You know the rules lass, one more.” You shake your head and sob. “I can’t Johnny! S’too much!” He’s enjoying the slurred nature of your speech, the pleading tone of your protests, he’s going to come soon, he can feel it. “Ye can and ye will. I’ll make ye. Be a good lass and take it.”

He rubs your clit in frenzied circles and it’s almost painful the sensation, your sensitive nerves too overworked to handle it so your hands come down to grab at his wrist, anything to stop the motions, else you’re apt to lose your mind.

He’s ready for that though, pulling one hand away from the apex of your thighs and securing it behind your back in an iron grip, the other he traps beneath his hand, making you rub circles into your own clit as he guides you.

It threatens to make your knees buckle underneath you as he holds you up and stretches you open simultaneously. He whispers filth into your ear as your eyes roll back and you teeter on the edge of sexually induced lunacy. “Did ye get more than ye bargained fer, hen? Poor thing. All fucked out an’ creamin’ all over mah cock? Yer gonna do it again, lass. One more fer me and I’ll let ye rest, aye? Be a good lass an’ come again.”

He pushes you over the edge for the third time and your whole body shakes, convulsing around him as you lose the battle against your pleasure and ultimately succumb to it. He feels his own orgasm closing in and holds it off for just a bit longer while you recover, keeping even steady strokes while your pussy squeezes around him through your aftershocks. When your eyes reopen and your breathing levels in one fluid motion he pulls out of you, spins you around and forces you to the floor.

You open your mouth to speak but he’s stuffing his cock down your throat before you can utter even a word. Your head backs into the glass and he uses your mouth like a pocket pussy, hands bracing on your head as he thrusts into your open throat a few erratic times, his balls sticky from your cum tapping against your chin as he reaches his peak. Loud guttural roars echo off the walls and ring in your ears as he comes down the back of your throat hard and fast.

He pulls out and a string of your saliva connects your puffy bottom lip to his tip for the briefest of moments before snapping. He’s staring down at you, chest heaving from the exertion of his climax with the slyest smirk on his face and a twinkle of satisfaction in his bright blue eyes.

He stoops down to your level, face to face when he speaks next, slightly hoarse. “Did ye swallow?” He asks as if you had much of a choice coming down the back of your throat like he did but before you can even answer he’s pulling down on your bottom jaw with his thumb. Your mouth falls open, tongue lolling out as he tilts your head from side to side and groans. A wave of panic surges through you as he leans in and kisses you passionately, tongue invading the space of your mouth as he tastes his cum off your lips. His hands cup your face as you begin to worry he’s gearing up for a second round.

He must feel you tensing under his touch because he pulls away and smooths your hair as he calms you. “Dinnae worry hen, just three fer today. We’ll stretch yer limits another time.” The promise of more makes you shudder and he helps you up off the floor to clean you up and help you redress, it’s hard because your limbs seem to refuse to cooperate as your mind commands them to, too shaky and loose to comply.

When you’ve dressed and regain your ability to walk he ushers you down the short hallway and into a seat in the smoothie alcove where he walks up to the counter, once more skipping the long line and orders you a smoothie, but not without mentioning you’ve just been through a very intense session and need it immediately, to your embarrassed dismay.

He walks back over to the table, drink in hand and sits across from you, smug as can be as you take it from him and drink. Moaning quietly as the cool drink slides down your sore throat. “Good?” He asks. And you non verbally nod to signify your content, still untrusting of your ability to articulate as of yet. “Good.”

You’re not sure where things will go from here, a secret part of you that speaks from deep in the back of your mind, where your true subconscious desires reside is scared that now that he’s had you he will be done with you. You push that thought back down into the murk of your subconscious, it doesn’t help and all of the context clues suggest it’s not true but that doesn’t stop it from bubbling to the surface.

It also doesn’t help when he tells you not to worry about your homework tonight. You sit, a bit dejected in your seat and try not to let disappointment seep into your tone. “Oh, ok.” And failing. He seems to pick up on it and leans forward and settles a hand overtop yours from across the table. It’s warm, and the touch of his skin is something you won’t admit that you really needed at that moment.

“Jus’ dinnae want ye sore, bonnie. Ye can still call me tonight if ye’d like.” You nod in agreement and after you’d finished your drink, you got up, grabbed your things from the locker room and left.

Johnny watched from his phone as you made the trip home, watching the blip on the map making various stops and turns until it reached your address. He got home and monitored it all through the night as you cooked, took your shower, caved and made your call to him and then hung up to go to bed.

He watched as your bpms slowly rose and spiked as you climaxed for the fourth time that day, reliving the day's events in vivid memory and wished it was his hands rubbing circles against your clit and playing with hard nipples until you saw stars. He continued to watch as your respiration levels evened out and the app indicated you’d started your sleep cycle.

In the morning he read your sleep logistics, learning you reached rem sleep, dreamt and even woke up twice in the night to pee. He picked it up in between reps during his workout and watched your stress levels while you were at work, the early morning rush had you on edge, you chilled as lunch time came around and then spiked again right after until it came close to quitting time and you relaxed as soon as you’d clocked off.

He sat in the smoothie alcove and watched your little blip get closer and closer until you were right outside. You turned into the building and he looked up to see you crossing the lobby towards the check-in desk, returning your pleasant smile and wave as he locked his phone and put it away so you could begin your next session.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod soap #cod x reader #dark!johnny #twdubcon #soap x reader #dark fic

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decaysings · 2 months

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svsss gotcha for gaza prompt fill of airplane and cucumber bro at the gym for @/Blep54879904 :]

[ID: scum villain fanart of shen yuan and shang qinghua in the modern era. shen yuan wears glasses, green headphones, red sweat wristbands, and a black shirt with binghe’s demon mark on it. he’s lifting two dumbbells, sweating as he asks, “can you stop being an influencer for five minutes?” shang qinghua, on his phone checking novel reviews, disinterestedly answers, “no.” he has a yellow, sleeveless hoodie with mobei jun’s demon mark on it, with a matching yellow sweat headband and wristbands. his hair is in a bun and he has freckles. end ID]

#don’t be fooled those are like ten pound weights probably. just like me fr omg i cannot do arm workouts it’s embarrassing #danmei #mo xiang tong xiu #mxtx #mxtx novels #mxtx svsss #mxtx fanart #scum villain self saving system #scum villain #svsss #svsss gotcha for gaza #shen yuan #shang qinghua #cumplane #<-DIABOLICAL ship name #digital art #artists on tumblr #decaysart

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octuscle · 1 year

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Alexander Ristor was perfect. The perfect body, the perfect skin, the perfect hair, he was simply flawless. And thanks to his father's fortune, he had the perfect life, too. Although he had never worked or studied, through generous donations he had reasonably presentable high school and college degrees. And his family's connections had also been a catalyst for his career as an influencer. Although he did nothing but travel the world First Class, do shopping, and work out and take care of his body, by the time he was 25 he already had thousands of followers. And while from the beginning his mother had had to secretly pay for hotels and restaurants so that Alexander felt he was getting everything for free as a social media star, by now many doors actually opened by themselves if he just approached them.

Alexander surfed through Instagram, bored. He was starting to get bored in Vienna. He was on a European tour, it was spring, and it was too cold for him in Austria. Going a little more south, working on his tan, now that would be cool. But all the destinations that came to mind when he looked at Google Maps seemed hackneyed. Croatia, Montenegro, Albania. All water under the bridge. All the C-class celebrities had already been there. But what was this northern Macedonia? Skopje? Almost all the posts on Instagram were from locals. Looked interesting enough. In fact, there was also a Hilton. Looked pretty old-fashioned. But he had an advertising contract with them, so he could stay there for two nights. Maybe he could find something better locally. Or he could still travel on to Kotor on the Mediterranean if he didn't like it in Skopje. A few hours later, his two big RIMOWA suitcases were packed and a limousine took him directly to the first class terminal of the Vienna airport.

Saturday

The Hilton was really not to his liking… A proper chain hotel. Not a boutique hotel secret tip that his followers loved him for. But for a few selfies at the bar, in the room and in the lobby, it would be enough for him to get out of here without a bill. Only for his daily workouts did he need something else. The gym at the hotel was unacceptable. Since he had already failed to work out yesterday, he had the concierge recommend a gym nearby. And headed straight for it with his gym bag.

The gym was surprisingly good. A former school high school gym, where high tech and shabby chic met. Well, the audience was different than at home in New York, but he would look all the more radiant on his contributions. So he stood at the counter and said he'd like to work out for the next few days. The employee at the counter, whose name tag said his name was Atanas, obviously didn't know him. Sure, that was a problem if you were a social media pioneer in the province… Atanas realized that he had to make a special effort with the customer. Only, unfortunately, he spoke very broken English. But at least he had understood that the handsome man in front of him was called Aleksandar. He didn't understand the last name… But it sounded something like Ristovski, the name of the captain of the national team. So he entered that. Date of birth? He could only guess… But he guessed well and made Alexander just about half a year older. And for the address Atanas simply entered the address of his mother's guesthouse, nobody would check that. Especially not the customer in front of him, who looked incredulously at the text written in Macedonian on the display and then signed on the input field without checking anything. Atanas took another photo of the customer, saved the entry in the customer file and coded the wristband that could be used to open doors and lockers in the studio.

He had no idea what the employee at the counter wanted from him. But somehow it all worked out and after only fifteen minutes Alexander had received a very cool looking wristband and quickly understood that it worked for checking in and opening the doors. With hands and feet, communication worked even in the middle of nowhere… After changing clothes and styling his hair, Alexander checked his accounts again. He was now 4:15 pm. So he could work out, take a few pictures while he was at it, edit them back at the hotel, change, and then hit the nightlife. But now let's get to the weights.

After three hours of training Alexander was exhausted. Shit, he had totally forgotten the time. But the workout had been awesome. It had been a long time since he had had so much fun pushing his body to the limits. So there was just a selfie of him with sweaty hair and sweaty T-shirt. And a succinct caption, "Best workout ever," along with the name of the gym. Strange, why did he have a three-day beard…?

Sunday

The night had been fun, there was no other way to put it. The afterlife of Skopje could not be compared to that of Vienna. As usual, his posts had had hundreds of likes after a very short time. And there had been a lot of likes from locals as well. He must have collected some new followers tonight. He was a little surprised about some comments about his new style. Okay, he didn't shave every day since he was here. And when you party hard, your hair doesn't always sit perfectly either. But new style…? He thought it was over the top.

Before he wanted to look at the city a little, Alexander wanted to work out a little in any case. So he went directly unshowered with only once combed hair to breakfast. Around him sat many festively dressed people. Probably locals who went to Sunday brunch. Because of his careless dress and perhaps also because of the smell his sports bag gave off, Alexander received one or two reprimanding looks. All weaklings, he thought, as he ate his bowl of scrambled eggs and the three chicken breasts for breakfast.

Atanas and Alexander greeted each other with a ghetto fist. The prepared protein shake was already waiting. Alexander appreciated how quickly his workout routine was addressed here. And thank God he could exchange a few words of Macedonian with the staff and the other guys on the training floor. And he understood a little Albanian, at least. His grandmother had sometimes sung him a few folk songs she knew from her North Macedonian mother, so a little had stuck.

Communication with Atanas was still complicated, however. He probably wanted to say something to him when Alexander left the studio at 5:00 p.m. after a hard workout, sauna and a shower. And after some time he understood that Atanas invited him to move out of the expensive and uncool Hilton and move into his mother's guesthouse. Great idea, that would certainly go down better in his stories than pictures from an interchangeable hotel bar. Nevertheless, Alexander spent the evening at the hotel. After all, he owed the hotel a few posts. And he didn't feel like going out clubbing after the day was over.

Monday

He did not have to shave today… The beard had a good seven-day length and still looked reasonably well-groomed. But he could go to the barber again, the last haircut should be a month and a half ago. So it had to be enough to tame the hair back with plenty of gel. He stuffed his clothes into his suitcases and went for a quick breakfast before checking out. After devouring his mountain of scrambled eggs, the waiter pointed out to him to please not wear a tank top to breakfast next time. There won't be a next time, Alex replied in his broken Macedonian and wiped off the rest of the scrambled eggs with his forearms. The front desk employee also smiled somewhat painedly when he pointed out his partnership with Hilton while paying the bill. The lady said they were tasked with telling Alex that the quality of his posts had fallen below the usual standard and they were considering discontinuing the partnership. Normally, Alex would have raved now, but he didn't care about the Hilton at all. Nevertheless, still posted a selfie with him and the reception team on Instagram. And immediately came the reactions:

"When did you stop shaving your armpits, Alexander?" "Bro, you're working out more than usual!" "Sun's out, guns out"

And many posts were in Macedonian and Albanian, which is also where most of the likes came from.

Atanas and Alex went to the barber together after the training. This was also a cool experience, making a post from this was much funnier than from drinking cocktails at the hotel bar. And the pictures he posted online of Atanas and himself went down especially well with his followers from the Balkans. With their trimmed full beards and shaved bald heads, the two looked almost like siblings.

When they had heaved Alex's luggage up the stairs to the guesthouse and Atanas introduced Alex to his mother, Alex silently cursed his mother. While she had grown up bilingual in Albanian and English, they spoke almost no Albanian at home. Now he would have needed more than the smattering he had learned from his Tirana-born grandmother. But at least his Macedonian was already quite passable, so that a simple conversation was already quite possible. His room in the guesthouse was great. Actually a separate apartment with a small kitchen and a balcony under the roof. Wonderful view over the city. And very comfortably furnished. He could leave his dirty laundry directly with Atanas' mother. And before they moved around the houses, Atanas lent Alex some of his things. The two spent the evening with some friends. Hardly anyone spoke English, but as training for his language skills this was perfect. And in fact, hardly anyone thought that the muscular guy in the soccer jersey and track pants could be American.

Tuesday

Part of the deal with Atanas' mother was that in the morning after breakfast, before he went to training with Atanas, he would collect the garbage in the rooms of the guesthouse and take everything to the dumpster around the corner. Easy money, Alex thought to himself… And the rest of his lodging he worked off by picking up guests (especially those from abroad) from the airport or train station and bringing them to the guesthouse. In the meantime he got along quite well with the old Skoda in the city traffic of Skopje. No one was arriving or departing today, so Atanas and Alex were able to work out together at the gym before Atanas' shift. And Alex spent the afternoon working on the guesthouse's social media presence. He was so not interested in the comments on his own account right now.

Wednesday

By now Aleksandar had been in his mother's country for three months. He couldn't understand why he had waited so long to come here. It was good that he had been so well received by Atanas and his family, it was enormous luck. His mother was also overjoyed with the situation. In the morning, when he left for the wholesale market at the crack of dawn, he always called home to wish his mother in New York a good night. It was a young tradition, but one he enjoyed. And sometimes he would have a few words with his father, who still viewed his activities with some suspicion. But that he made his mother happy, made his father happy too.

After carrying the fresh groceries to the cellar, Aleksandar usually went straight to work out. He enjoyed it when the gym was still empty. Besides, he always had to spend more time in the afternoons with Atanas' and his online supplement business. As his own successes as a heavyweight bodybuilder grew, so did the demand for his own products. And today he also had to go shopping himself. After hardly anything of his old clothes fit anymore, Atanas' sister had sold everything at the weekly market. Mila had great talent in such things and had made a good profit. And with that Aleksandar went shopping. He didn't need much. During the day, in the summer, an undershirt and a pair of training pants were enough. For the evenings, or when he had to work at the guesthouse, he bought a few pairs of jeans and some black and white shirts. The picture of him doing a double biceps pose with a bursting new shirt led to enthusiastic reactions from many of his new followers. And the salesman who took the picture of him immediately posted a selfie of himself and Aleksandar afterward.

Thursday

Today Aleksandar combined his morning visit to the market with a visit to the barber. He wanted to look his best before the weekend. And he enjoyed the visits here very much. For one thing, he learned plenty of news. For another, he liked it when his full beard was trimmed razor-sharp, the sides of his angular skull gleamed as if polished, and the barely-a-millimeter-long hair on top of his head shone black. He would love to add a few tattoos to the picture, but his mother would kill him for that… And if not her, Atanas' mother would take over that task.

Atanas and Aleksandar worked out together today after Atanas' shift ended. It was good because they were both tough critics and knew how to motivate each other excellently. And it was good because they could both shower together afterwards. Jerking each other's soapy dicks was the highlight of the workout.

Friday

Actually, Aco (Aleksandar only called him his grandmother when she was angry) wasn't really religious. But with three Muslim grandparents, the imprint had been big. And his parents both wanted him to grow up as a devout Muslim. And so, at least on Fridays, it was natural to answer the muezzin's call and say the sunrise prayer. And for the evening prayer, he and Atanas would also go to the mosque. But otherwise, Aco had to spend every free minute on training today as well, besides his work at the guesthouse and on their online trade. Sunday was his first appearance in the heavyweight class. And for that, it wasn't enough to eat like a barn-burner. He had to convert the calories, too.

In the gym, he was something of a local hero. Sure, he was exotic because he was born in the United States. But he had his roots here, and he and his fans were proud of that. But he had also had to work hard for success. Sure he had been in good shape when his parents sent him here with a little capital to start. Sure he had received a lot of support from Atanas and his family. But both his body and his business were essentially his earnings. For that he got up every morning at 04:00 o'clock, for that he went to bed every evening at 21:00 o'clock, for that he renounced alcohol. But for it he brought also with his 1,75 m proud 120 kilograms on the balance. The only thing he had not worked for was his cock. These 25 cm were a gift from his fathers. And for that he and Atanas thanked Allah!

Saturday

Actually silly that he had to sneak out of Atanas' room in the morning. The two of them were more than grown up. But even if it was an open secret that they were a couple, it was not really allowed to become public. That's where both their families were just stuffy. The guesthouse was full today. Many guests were there also because they hoped to take a photo with the most promising candidate for the national amateur championship. And Aco fulfills this wish for every guest. That's why today, for once, he was only allowed to work in a tank top and flex his muscles. Secretly, he regretted that tomorrow no one would be able to enjoy the fur on his chest and arms. He would miss the bushy hair in his armpits. And Atanas probably even more, if he could no longer press his face into the cave stinking of fresh sweat after the training. But tomorrow morning it all had to come off, tomorrow nothing could distract from the tight skin over his muscle mountains. And thanks to his genes, the hair would soon grow back.

Sunday

He had been working towards this moment for over six months. Worked out until he was exhausted, ate until he was pissed off. He had slept in extra today. Pumped up all the important muscle groups one last time. Atanas had carefully shaved every hair on his body. There was nothing left below the beard. And now Atanas was oiling him just as carefully. And as with shaving, he was especially careful in the places to which Aco's cock was particularly sensitive. You idiot, Aco said more in jest. Should the jury choose me for my biceps or for my boner. Grinning, Atanas returned that both would be more than impressive.

Just now, at the accreditation of the contestants, Aco had had to identify himself. Thanks to his mother, he had an Albanian passport; thanks to his birth, he had a U.S. passport. All passports showed his proud name Aleksandar Ristovski, all showed his real birthday but on only one passport were all the data, including his address, exactly as Atanas had recorded them a week ago: on the passport of his father's homeland, on the one from northern Macedonia. And tonight he would leave the stage as the winner for this country.

Many thanks to @massivemusxcle and @homme-parfait! You guys were a great inspiration !

#wife beater #male tf #muscle tf #race change #reality change

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potentialguybodyswaps · 2 years

Text

Body Exchange Program Part 1:

It all started with an app service called the Body Exchange Program, or B.E.P. For short

The concept of the app was to make a way for people to experience different types of lives, and it did just that. By swapping 2 peoples body’s

Of course it charged a small fee tho, however nothing too extravagant, just 100 dollars, pretty cheep compared to flying or driving somewhere else in the world for a vacation…

I was your typical skater boi, skinny as fuck, 4pack abs, but faint, really only had them cause I’d be too high to remember to eat, oh did a mention a stoner haha? Vaped, even had a bunch of different colored wristbands I’d wear all the time.

Growing up was kinda boring in my small town, nothing really to do besides skate around town and get High with my friends, which I was perfectly fine with, until I discovered I could have more

When the internet first discovered this app, the world went crazy, and I could see why, a lot of out of pocket swaps that you really wouldn’t think were Consensual like 50 year old bears swapping with 20 year old twinks started happening, really strange when those same duos decided to change from the temporary option to permanent, which both accounts would have to go into there settings and select.

My story starts shortly after I made my account and Input all the typical information you would as if goin on a dating website, with a couple extreme questions for your account, like dick size, kinks, ideal body swap

Account summary:

Tanner:

Age: 18

height: 5’10

weight: 135

Location: Kansas

Penis size: 5.5 inches

Kinks: body swaps (duh?)

Ideal Bodyswap: city boy, college, fit

Interests: smoking pot and skateboarding with friends

End summary.

The next day, when I woke up a received a notification at like 2 AM from someone that was a 100% match… not hard when you have such a short requirement list, wanting to do a 72 hour switch for the weekend

It was from some guy named Kyle with a summary of his account

Kyle:

Age: 21

Height 6’2

Weight: 195

Location:Florida State

Penis size: 8 inches

Kinks: anal, Asian chicks, Bodyswaps

Ideal Bodyswap: country/small town, stoners , people with fun lives

Interests: working out, fucking, drinking

Not seeing a picture or anything I decided to just press accept… I mean after all Kyle fit all my Criteria, bear minimal I could hope for is he isn’t ugly or fat, but since he’s interested in working out, and fucking, he’s gotta be some sort of catch, and boy was I right

The moment I pressed accept a 15 second timer started warning me to prepare myself, so I sat down… but that still didn’t prepare me for what was waiting on the other side

I snapped back to consciousness to me suddenly flexing my muscles in front of a mirror

“Wow I’m a walking cliche” I said outloud, of course a gym rat would be wearing a wife beater and checking himself out in the mirror lol. but I can understand why, I look fucking great. I said to myself while continuing to flex, normally I wouldn’t cause a bag of bones like me had nothing to flex, but now that I do…. Well… you know what they say, when I’m Rome

At that point I started spouting off random shit just to hear myself talked, I found my new deeper voice amusing

After a short time of making poses and just making faces in the mirror taking in my new alpha jock boy look, I receive a messaged from my old account

Tanner(really Kyle): hey bro, thanks for swapping with me, you’re kinda a bit scrawnier than I expected but at 135, idk what I should have expected haha. Anyways like I said thanks, I kinda just want to take a break from the way I party all the time, kinda hard to get and smoke weed around there without getting busted by cops or ratted out on by some of the basic bitches there…

Kyle (really tanner) it’s all good man, ya I really just wanted to get that college experience for a bit, go to some parties myself haha, I’ll be sure to keep up that reputation you clearly have haha. And ya, I know I’m scrawny, hence why I wanted to swap with someone fit, anything I should know about?

Tanner: ya, when you go to a party and the bitches try to get with you, try not to get hard untill it’s time to lay it down, otherwise my dick kinda hurts from being restrained in my pants, and the bulge is very noticeable too when it happens… guess I’m also curious what having a average dick is like, weird that I can’t swing it anymore

Kyle: thanks for the tip

I immediately closed out the app and proceeded to tear my shorts down at the speed of which you’d think someone was about to get assaulted, and they/it was about to get assaulted by my hand

“Jesus Christ” I said shaking to the left and right, I can actively smack myself with my dick, that’s so cool bro…

I started going though his texts, with my hand slowly stroking my new huge rod, untill I found a recent text from some chick that invited me to a party, scrolling up though it I saw her nudes she had sent Kyle before

My semi grew into a full on hard on and at that point I had to use all 8 inches of my glory, right?

After I busted a nut I left the mess on me and sent her a picture of it saying “can’t wait to see you”

When I showed up to the party I was immediately greeted with a budlight platinum, and was surrounded by friends/other party goers who new me

After having 6 beers, shit talkin with the new homies and trying not to blow my cover, that I’m not really Kyle, I finally saw the chick I was texting earlier and once we made eye contact, she made a jerkin motion with her head to the stairs, which she then went up.

Feelin a hardon starting to come, I quickly let my friends know I had to go, and rushed up the stairs, once I broke out of the group I could hear one shout “ya right, your going to fuck Jessica aren’t you!?” I turn around walking backwards and yell “fuck ya bro” as I corrected myself and bolted up the stairs

Once I found what room she was in, she was already naked, bent over, hands tied to the bed post with a ball gag in her mouth, she clearly knew what this guy liked, and not wanting to cause suspicion, I went with it

Climbing onto the bed I dropped my pants and spit onto my dick, sliding it into her ass, i came here to fuck, and fucking the dog shit out of her is what I was gonna do.

After that night I knew I couldn’t give this life up. Drunkenly checking the settings of the app I saw it, the make permanent switch

I clicked it and it sent me a message sayin waiting for the other swapper to agree

No way in hell was he gonna agree to keep my twinky body and lose almost 3 inches… “FUCK how can I make this permanent” I thought to myself

Rereading our messages it hit me, I’m signed in as him, all I have to do is sign into my account and accept, I mean it’s like 3 A.M, no way is he up/received this yet

So that’s what I do, moment I agreed to make permanent, my dick got rock hard at the fact that this is how ima always be now, college city boy, big dick alpha jock, could I have even asked for a better combo!

Next morning I got a message from Kyle from his account, he must have signed into his account since I signed him out of mine

Kyle: aye bro you ready to swap back yet? I kinda got caught smoking pot at the park in your body and got arrested, your other stoner friends bailed me out bro…

Tanner: dam that sucks bro, too bad it’s not a me problem tho

Kyle, how is it not a you problem? I kinda fucked up and I’m sorry bro

Tanner:cause, it’s your body now, the swap is permanent, check the settings

Kyle: …..

Kyle: wtf bro this isn’t what I asked for, I just wanted to smoke some pot and maybe not have such painful erections when my jeans can barely hold my dick for a bit

Tanner: good then bro, glad your happy you got what you wanted, I’m happy too, this body is fucking rad my guy, I don’t know why you’d give it up, I typed gaslighting the fuck out of him

Kyle: idk how you did it, but I know I didn’t agree to a permanent swap, my default setting is temporary and I don’t accept random permanent requests… nor would I send one

Tanner: oh but you did ;)

Kyle: just wait till I contact support, I hope they put you in the body of a fat old man for punishment. Rot in hell asshole

Edit: sorry for another fucking mini Novel basically lol

I’d like to give @tfstation a special thank you for letting me use one of his old story concepts (the concept of BEP, not the actual story, I wrote that) anyways lemme know what y’all think!!!!

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rwbysworld · 2 years

Text

Giving The Dragoness A Fun Time

(A closed rp blog with @strayedfables )

Jaune Arc,The only Snow Wolf Faunus in his family,wore a tight grey t-shirt that had his muscles on display as his Faunus ears were out in the open,a pair of long black gym pants that let his long fluffy tail breathe and white running sneakers along with a pair of black gym wristbands as he stepped inside the gym that Beacon had,hoping to have a day to work out his heat.Unfortunately,fate had other plans as he froze at the sight of his fellow blonde and Beacon's busty blonde bombshell of a brawler,Yang Xiao Long,wearing very.....

Tight gym clothing that showed off her womanly curves,making his eyes wide,Faunus tail stand at attention and causing him to unintentionally drop his cold bottle of water on the ground.

Seems that Jaune had a new target of affection and lust.

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notinthislife50 · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

You both avoided each other. Even in the gym, you both worked out at opposite ends. Until Pierce came by and noticed this. He called you both into the ring and demanded you start training together.

Both your trainers tried to appeal to you and how they would be fired if you didn’t. That was the reason you now both glared at each other as you tightened your wristbands. You both loved your trainers they had been with you for years.

Going into a fighting stance the soldier looked at you and laughed and with that you launched at him.

An hour later you were both spent. panting and sweating you glared at each other.

Pierce seemed happy enough though and walked out.

The soldier sighed “Look princess seems we are stuck with each other. Might as well let me train you.”

“Don’t call me princess and I don’t need you to train me. you snapped.

“Okay princess.” the soldier smirked getting out of the ring.

“Asshole” you shouted at the back of his head.

Over the next few months, you trained together. You were actually able to learn a lot from one another. The soldier was bigger and stronger than you. So you learned how to fight against that and you were smaller and faster which made the solider adapt his fighting abilities too. But you still never spoke to each other unless it was to insult one another.

On this particular day, the soldier was relentless in his teasing. And your temper got the best of you and you ended up breaking his nose. As you stood with your arms folded looking proud, the soldier looked straight at you before rushing you and taking you to the ground.

As you both lay on the mat him between your legs hands around your throat, you had your legs hooked at the ankles squeezing his ribs. Your hands are firmly attached to his wrists, none if you are willing to back down. a crowd had gathered, watching who would be the first to tap out until Pierce walked in.

“Ah good still training,” he smiled when none of you let up he shouted “Alright break it up” You both reluctantly let go. “Hit the shower” he commanded.

When the soldier let go of you you gasped for air. You crawled back to the corner of the ring. When he saw you struggling to breathe he gave you his hand to help you up but you slapped it away. “Get the fuck away from me” you croaked. Rolling out under the bottom rope.

As you stood in the shower your forehead against the tiles letting the warm water run over you. The door bust open and the soldier walked in. “This is my shower, fuck off” your voice hoarse.

“What you need a whole shower room to yourself, you really are a princess” he scoffed. “And besides Pierce told me this was now my shower room too. Looks like we are sharing doll” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and turned your back on him. As the soldier took the shower opposite you just to piss you off he couldn’t help but run his eyes over your body. He noticed the scars that left their pattern on you, he noticed how toned you were. He knew you trained hard and it showed. He turned himself to face the wall. As he shut his eyes he heard a bang and watched as you walked out the door not even getting dressed you grabbed your clothes and stormed out.

People stared at you walking to your room in just your towel but people usually stared at you anyway. So you didn’t care.

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Winter Soldier #the winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #winter soilder smut #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel y/n

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tendertenebrosity · 9 months

Text

Prev: One,two, three. This is fanfic for the book Ocean’s Echo, containing my own OCs.

Davi had thought that the discomfort of being away from your reader had been exaggerated. He’d never had any issues when he was in the mess hall or the gym while Saelin stayed in their quarters, or vice versa.

But now he was realising the truth: since the sync, they’d simply never been on a ship large enough to really hit their limits.

Their ship had finished its patrol, and was temporarily docked at a space station. So naturally, as soon as their shift was over and they were on rec time Saelin had made a beeline for the opposite side of it. As far away from the ship and their quarters as he could get. And Guidance lights, it felt like someone had pulled out one of Davi’s internal organs and stretched it like an elastic band across the station.

Davi tried to tough it out, but even lying on his bunk he couldn’t focus on the book-cube he was trying to read. Or on any of the training modules, or on the latest pulpy fiction vids the ship’s library had to offer. He couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that a part of himself was not here, was over in the station somewhere wandering around, aching and pulling and tearing.

After half an hour, he rolled out of bed with an uncoordinated stagger, threw on one of his civvie shirts, and limped out into the hallway and towards the docking bay.

The station wasn’t exactly touristy; at least, not the part of it where Saelin had apparently decided to go. Potted plants with heavy waxy leaves lined the thoroughfare, and people wandered in and out of the shopfronts.

Davi’s head pounded from the strain of reaching out in his reader’s direction and touching nothing. For a little while, as he walked, he could feel Saelin getting closer, feel the aching wrongness easing. Then it stopped improving, and stabilised, the invisible elastic band remaining at the same length no matter how far Davi walked along the unfamiliar streets of the station.

Then it started to get worse again.

Eventually he stopped, breathing hard, spots in his vision. Anger made him hiss under his breath. How is Saelin doing this? He’s a pudgy civilian, he skips out on gym sessions whenever I let him! No way he can walk faster than me while putting up with this!

This was ridiculous. If they’d been closer - if his head hadn’t hurt so damn much - Davi would have written him. Ignoring the station citizens giving him strange looks where he stood in the middle of the thoroughfare, he lifted his wristband and keyed in a message.

Agent Thirty two, stay right the fuck where you are. That’s an order.

A few moments later, it pinged with an acknowledgement. No words. It must have been Davi’s imagination that tinged the bland computerised noise with resentment.

When he caught up with Saelin, the reader was sitting at a table outside a faintly grubby little cafe, with one of the waitstaff eyeballing him distrustfully.

Davi dropped into the seat opposite him.

“There is something wrong with you,” he said without preamble. “I know you felt that too. You’re happy to hurt yourself as long as you get to cause me pain at the same time, is that it? Or is hurting yourself the point?”

Saelin sat back in the seat and crossed his arms. He looked sloppy in his undershirt and uniform pants. “I asked. You said I could leave the ship.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going to hike out into the fucking middle of nowhere!” Davi hissed. “I thought you just wanted to get, I don’t know. A coffee at one of the port bars. Pick up something at a shop and come back.”

He should have known that wasn’t the case, he realised, kicking himself internally. Saelin didn’t have any money. It had been irresponsible of Davi anyway, even if that was all Saelin had wanted to do. He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking to say yes.

Saelin shrugged. His glasses reflected the grimy station lights, so that Davi couldn’t quite see his eyes behind them. “So confine me to quarters from now on. I’ll comply; I don’t have a choice.”

“Do you want me to do that?”

“And when,” Saelin said, “Has it ever mattered to anybody, least of all you, what I want?”

Davi wondered what had changed.

Things had been, well, uncomfortable for weeks. Davi’s first impulse - to act as he would with any other ranker or subordinate he spent a great deal of time with, casual and all right, yes, friendly while still maintaining a sense of authority - had obviously backfired. But at least it had been something to fill the space. Now there was just… a wordless resentful submission to everything Davi said or did or expressed. When they sank deep into the sync, for tricky navigation around the curlicues and eddies of chaotic space, Davi felt like he came out with a residue of dislike and contempt on his mind. It wasn’t what Davi had been aiming for but he understood why Saelin responded like that; what choice did he have?

But this, this was weird.

Davi leaned forward and stabbed a finger at the table. “If you want to get me to write you, this is the way to do it,” he said bluntly, and was satisfied to see the reader flinch. “I don’t give a damn what I promised. I know you hate it. But this here is point-blank unacceptable, and I’m being nice by even making this a conversation. So you can cut the fucking attitude, all right? It’s like you’re daring me to write you. Which is why I’m asking you, do you want to be confined to the ship? Do you want more write-commands?”

Saelin hunched his shoulders and stared at his lap. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t want that.”

Davi felt like a bully. Trouble was, he was still angry; a tension headache still pulsed behind his eyes.

“What are you doing out here?” he settled for asking. “Why this? Are you trying to show me that the sync can hurt me, too? I already knew that.”

“No,” Saelin said. Unwillingness radiated from him. “No, not at all. At first I just wanted to see for myself what our range was. And then…” He lifted a hand, pushed the glasses up and aside so he could rub his face. The sync bled vulnerability, all of a sudden. “Please,” he said. “I needed it. I know it hurts. And I know I’ve - I’ve been hostile. But I wasn’t doing it because it hurts you.”

Davi felt his eyebrows lifting. Progress.

“So hurting yourself is the point?”

Saelin frowned, but didn’t immediately deny it.

Davi sighed, propping his head up on his hand. “You need to see a head-doctor,” he said. “Or, I don’t know, get a subscription to a kinky magazine.”

Saelin’s mouth twisted in distaste. He didn’t engage with either comment. “What I needed,” he said, “Was… distance. To be as far away from the sync and you as it’s possible for me to be, ever again. And once I had it, it hurt but I couldn’t leave it alone.”

Davi allowed himself to think about it, for the first time in long uncomfortable weeks.

This was forever. Davi knew people didn’t survive having a sync severed. The two of them were stuck with each other until death. The person across the table from him now would be within a couple of city blocks of him forever.

He wondered if it was better or worse to have had no choice in it. Because right now, Davi felt like the most stupid person in the world for agreeing to this of his own free will.

Across the table, mind close enough to touch, the reader sighed. He was examining the peeling trim of the table with intense focus. The next sentences were clipped. “I’m sorry. That I hurt you.”

That had the ring of a genuine apology, to Davi’s surprise.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I understand.”

“Please don’t… confine me to quarters, or to the ship,” Saelin said. “I won’t go this far again. I won’t play games. I’ll come back when you call. But, please, if I can get out into the real world every now and then…”

Davi felt his brows come together in a frown at the notion that the ship, and the Division, and the military didn’t count as ‘the real world’. What do you think of as the real world?

But he’d flubbed the last real attempt to forge a working relationship with this person. And he found that the alternative prospects - maintaining authority over Saelin with never-ending threats and write-commands and short leashes - was both exhausting and distasteful.

“No promises,” he said. “I don’t think I should make you any more… promises or deals. You’ll have to ask me if you want to leave, and tell me where you’ll be going, and I might need to write you truthful sometimes to do my due diligence.”

Saelin cocked his head, feeling out cautiously along the sync. “But?”

“Ask me next rec period,” Davi said aloud, but pulsed yes. Conditional, but yes, across the corridor between their minds. Saelin acknowledged it with a pulse of his own.

And that would have to be good enough for now.

#Ocean's Echo fanfic #telepathy #nonconsensual mindlink #Saelin #Davi #navigating fucked up power dynamics

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the1975attheirverybest · 1 year

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can we also acknowledge who they’re also always the ones who “run into” matty pretty often…like come on. I’m not hating on them for meeting him, but what’s with the lying about how it happened? especially when he’s in NYC. you’re telling me you knew he was in the city and just so happened to bump into him outside of places he frequents, particularly his gym and hotel? He’s a sweetheart and will always stop and have a conversation if he has the time but he def knows they were looking for him.

I’m curious to see what happens at tomorrows show, considering how tiny the Hollywood Bowls pit is. There’s a walkway around the pit that artists use pretty often, and if there’s a b-stage it’s gonna be dead center in the crowd (based off of what I’ve seen from videos of Florence Welch playing there, people are going to be incredibly close to him this time). there’s really no need to camp but there was also no need to camp for Paris so??

ANYWAYS, i don’t think people should worry that much, depending on what show(s) they’re going to. it looks like the first 150-200 are getting wristbands and from what i’ve heard, it seems like even people arriving the night before are getting them. i know someone who didn’t get in line for the San Jose show until 4am and was number 165, they got a wristband and were second row. and even if you turn up a few hours before doors, you’ll likely get a good spot. i get wanting barricade after camping out, but it’s also a good idea to make peace with possibly being in row 2 or 3, even with a wristband. i’ve ruined past concert experiences for myself purely because i was dead set on barricade and it didn’t happen.

this doesn’t apply to certain shows, like MSG, philly, probably nashville, and a couple others, but for most shows the majority of people will turn up when doors open or even during the opener.

yeah, and I love how their stories are always like “story time on how I met matty Healy. So I just happened to be walking down the street on….” Like bestie no you didn’t. You went there on purpose cuz you saw on Twitter that he was there.

one of them even getting mad that the boys once arrived at the spot before she did so others got to meet them without her lol.

hopefully the rest of us have more sense and manners and will respect their privacy.

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oukido · 2 years

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Kiddos are allowed in the club, but their IDs will be thoroughly checked at the door and they'll receive wristbands and an 'x' on the back of the hand for good measure to signify that they're underage. Also, if you're under twenty, you're not about to get served alcohol in Kanto, sorry!

Behave yourselves, kids! Green's not about to deal with any potential legal repercussions if someone gets caught drinking underage in his gym! There's plenty of nonalcoholic options to choose from!

#;;pwt2023

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electricea · 2 years

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Closed starter for @cxrnxticn!

"Man, of all the times to lose it...!"

He had been shuffling around in his changing room locker for the past several minutes now, hoping against hope that his necklace might have just been hidden in some unknown cracker or corner, but the only things that were in there were a water bottle and an old wristband.

"Maybe I must have dropped it somewhere? Guess all I can do is walk the halls..." He groaned as he said it, knowing he'd have to retrace his steps. Luckily, he had the solace of knowing that he had only been to two places today - Classroom D-E and the gym, which he had already looked. Exiting the gym, he instinctively found himself clutching at his neck, where his necklace had once sat and as he braced himself to search, he couldn't help but sigh.

"I sure hope I find it...would be a pain to have to get another one...

#for reference - the item lost is his little silver skull necklace!#( v; unspecified. )#cxrnxticn

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nintendouniverse2023 · 1 year

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Scene I did my OCs in my AU, for their designs and anything, I thought it would be fair if each of the Mario Characters a redesign in my version. Some I design them will be the same but change it up a little bit.

Bio: Roy Koopa was the 1st born of the Koopalings, born with Pink Skin and Shell. He was embrace and Suborn about it. This causes him to end up being a bully to his younger siblings. He would ether get into a heated fights with Morton, Ludwig and Wendy and even got worse when Susan abandoned The Koopaling’s. He would have a change of heart when Bowser took them in after a talk. Even though Roy isn’t a bully to his siblings no more, he still likes to tease.

Roy got into weapons and would kobined with brains and brawn on his training in the Koopa Empire. He mostly likes to go to the gym to become a bulky Koopa with Shades on. When The Koopaling’s began to help Bowser on his plans, he was always defeated by The Mario Bros along with his siblings. He did even know about much of the Mario’s sister until years later.

A month later when Bowser’s main plan is ready, He meets Mara in person for the first time when she greeted him on his muscles and shown often a frenemy ship over time.

Appearance: Purple Rings on Shell, Horns and Spikes, Purple Shades, Pink Skin, Gold Leather Bracelet and Wristband, Black Fingerless Gloves and A Scar on his left mouth

Voice Actor: Benjamin Diskin

Age:19

Height: 7.2 ft

Weight: 236 ib

Personality: Short Tempered, Chilled, Savage, Gangster, Tough, Clever and Native.

Favorite Foods: Burgers, Stake, Corn, Kebabs and Tacos

Family: (Parents) Morton Koopa Sr *Deceased* and Susan Koopa *Deceased or Vanished after their mother abandon them*, (Adopted Father) Bowser Koopa, (Step brother) Bowser Jr, (Biological Siblings) Morton Jr, Ludwig Von, Iggy, Larry, Wendy O and Lemmy

Allies: The Koopa Empire, Kremlings Army, King Boo and his army.

Enemies: The Mario Bros and Sis, Princess Peach, Wario Bros *Sometimes*, Princess Daisy and Rosalina, Krunch Kremling, DK Clan, Mushroom Kingdom and Different Kingdoms

Likes: Teasing his sibling, Going to the Gym, Playing Football, Testing out Weapons, Spend time with his siblings, Making Ludwig mad and Go Karts

Dislikes: His Shades Broken, Embrace of his skin, Being Beaten and His siblings getting brutally hurt.

#nintendo #super mario bros #supermariorebirthshow #roy koopa #koopalings

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funkeyberry · 2 years

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teen-a-day🥳 CAS challenge BY@dizzywhims

DAY25 Geek /DAY26 Future olympian

DAY25 Geek

:Ehhhhhh! ! ? Could it be? ? ? 😲

Noisy and active, extremely curious, questioning the world every day. Therry has acquired a lot of programming skills and is currently the host of the campus forum. He earns money by duplicating access control cards for people, and is saving up travel expenses to the StrangerVille. There is a nagging netizen, the hat was given by him. Familiar with the doomsday survival guide, crawling the data of UFO abduction incidents around the world every day, conducting secret investigations in private, hoping that one day it will be his turn. Obsessed with the study of extraterrestrial life and the myth of Simmanaty, one of the resident members of Lu's TRPG team.Plans to go to the big city to attend geek exhibition after leaving the StrangerVille, and always feel he is living in a simulation. (Long live tinfoil hats!! 🥳

👕SHIRT&BELT from @gorillax3-cc/👚TEE@crickcabanaa/👖JEANS&PANTS@dyoreos/👒BERET@thisiskiro/🎈PATCHES FROM Chiyo Jacket Dress @trillyke/🔎Magnifying Glass from StudioK

DAY26 Future olympian

:When you wish upon a star,your dreams come true😊

Track and field team members, the main events are long jump and sprint. Passed the regional selection, and dreamed of participating in the Silympic Games. Almost practices in the gym all the time, with very little rest time. Influenced by her mother, who used to be a football player, Donjae has always followed a healthy lifestyle. There are always ball games and simple equipment at home, and the sports atmosphere is quite strong. Good at cooking, bring his own foodand when the training schedule is full. Want to try diving and skiing after graduation, and considering a part-time job. Have a deep relationship with family. Besides playing ball with friends, also like to watch the stars with younger siblings on the horizontal bar. (The spa day pack really a good thing 🤗

🩳PANTS@mmsims/⛹🏿‍♂️HEADBAND&NECKLACE&Eyebrow Jewellery@pralinesims/✨PIERCING@4w25-cc/💪🏻WRISTBAND LEFT@imadako&WRISTBAND RIGHT from ciaolatino38

AND thanks a lot to all the cc creators🤩!!!

if any linguistic mistake just blame theGoogle translate for All hhhhhh👻

#teen-a-day #teen a day #the sims 4 #create a sim #maxis mix

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clockwork-dinosaur · 2 years

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a introduction fic for my Gym Leader OC Beau! they're a bit of an asshole and i love them, i hope you will too uwu

~1.7k words, no content warnings. also this is the first time i've written anything related to Pokémon so Any feedback is welcome!

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The stadium roared louder than any Pokemon and twice as wild. Packed stands moved in frantic rhythm, hundreds of flags and banners flapping like wings in a storm. Under the harsh lights on the massive field, entirely in his element, Beau smirked at the Trainer in front of them. Their eyes were locked, determined gazes meeting past the flapping leathery wings of Beau’s Noivern and the dark, fiery aura of the Trainer’s Chandelure. Noivern’s left leg was pulled close to its body, singed and smarting. Beau’s eye twitched when the hit had landed and burned his partner, but it was nothing that couldn’t be healed.

Revenge, however, would be severe. Noivern could take the hit, as could the other Pokemon still at their side, waiting to swoop in and crush this kid’s last two Pokemon.

“Noivern!” Beau called clearly, the sureness of winning carried in the lilt of their voice, “Use Wing Attack!”

The winged Pokemon looked back and met Beau’s eyes, his own determination reflected back through the years-long bond they’ve shared with only a glance. Noivern seemed to hover in breathless stillness for a moment as it drew its wings wide, before its muscles tensed and the thin membranes caught the air, sending blades of wind at the hapless Chandelure. Its flames flickered as it was buffeted by the air.

A critical hit!

The Trainer looked horrified as their Pokemon fell to the ground- dulled, dizzy, and defeated. Beau barked out a laugh.

“C’mon kid, I know you’ve got one more! Can’t run away now!”

The trainer looked up with a glare, and sent out their final Pokemon- Cinderace. The stadium went nuts. A fan favorite for sure, and one that gave Beau pause. His strategy was always to call back his Pokemon when their health dropped too low, something that often caught the challengers off guard and gave his battles an air of intrigue- it kept everyone including his opponent on their toes, and allowed him to use his dual-types to his advantage when his opponent least expected it.

Noivern was already burnt, and its wing beats were beginning to falter. Another fiery hit and it might faint. Corviknight was at a steep disadvantage, and even weaker besides- it would take hours to preen those burnt feathers as it was. Hawlucha had fainted at the hands of a Togedemaru, an upsetting and infuriating upset. Talonflame or Swoobat might get a hit in if they swapped in now, but it was risky- as fast as they were, Cinderace could be faster.

The rabbit Pokemon hopped back and forth, waving its arms and riling up the crowd as Beau deliberated. It would come down to whose Pokemon was faster- mostly.

Of course, they hadn’t forgotten what would really turn the tide.

A wry grin spread across their face as the Dynamax power gathered in their wristband, built into their gray falconer's glove like a centerpiece. Noivern, still burnt but with fierce determination in its eyes, receded into the growing Pokeball. They rubbed the ball affectionately and threw it high

Noivern burst from the Pokeball, its wings unfurling to block out the sun above the stadium. Its eyes glowed like flares and pierced the humans below, drenching them in golden light. Red mist gathered around its rounded concave ears and seemed to spill down its furred back, to be stirred up again by its massive wings that spanned the width of the stadium. With a cry that drowned out the frantic cheers, Noivern unleashed its power.

Speed was well trained in their Pokemon, and Noivern wasted no time in stirring up a whirling current of air before the other trainer had a chance to act. The Cinderace was lifted off its fuzzy little feet and swept clear across the stadium.

To Beau’s surprise, however, it stayed standing.

Barely.

They watched with a sneer as the other trainer gathered their Dynamax energies and sent their giant Cinderace out as well. Its massive ears seemed to part the red fog and twitch in time with the rhythmic chanting of the spectators.

Beau all but growled as the Cinderace sent a firestorm at Noivern, engulfing it in flames. As the flames died down, Noivern tilted to one side, then the other, before finally falling to the ground, singed and unconscious.

“I’m sorry, mate,” Beau said quietly, as Noivern retreated into its Pokeball to rest and recover.

The opposing trainer was jumping up and down as the crowd cheered. Cinderace, still battered, raised its arms in triumph.

Beau began to snicker, then laugh outright. The kid turned with an annoyed and confused expression, and Beau only laughed harder, more meanly.

“I’m not done here!” they said airily. Their choices were limited, but not expended; with little thought but revenge, Beau sent out Swoobat. It blinked in the bright lights and up at the Dynamaxed Cinderace across the field from it. It gave Beau an uncertain look, ears drooped forward in nervousness.

“You can do this!” they encouraged, and Swoobat seemed to gather itself. It was a relative newcomer to Beau’s team, but one that had quickly found its place, both strategically and in their heart. Beau genuinely believed in Swoobat’s abilities.

Swoobat was already injured, however- it certainly wouldn’t withstand enough hits to make leading with Future Sight worthwhile. Beau narrowed his eyes and pointed.

“Swoobat, use Psychic!”

Energy gathered around the fuzzy bat, warping the space around it and radiating power that seemed impossible for its size.

“Yeah! You got it!” Beau shouted, as the attack landed.

Another critical hit!

Cinderace seemed to explode. In its already weakened state, Swoobat’s attack coming from a place of wanting to make Beau proud was just enough to defeat the opposing trainer’s Pokemon.

Swoobat circled Beau ecstatically as they approached the dejected trainer. The kid looked up at them with wide and watery eyes.

“It’s only gonna get harder from here,” they said, sneering. “My advice? Give it up, ‘kay?”

With that, they turned on their heel and walked away to the sound of thousands of shouts, jeers, and cheers.

“You gotta go easier on those kids, mate. Your bitterness is showing.”

Beau refused to look up to greet the owner of that familiar, gravely voice. The cozy little restaurant was full after the match, the tellies showing highlights from that day’s events. Wins, losses, and impressive plays from all across Galar were discussed and picked apart ad infinitum. His own battle was often referenced, to his delight. Eyes were on them, and as they picked at their chips they were playing it cool.

Piers, however, had no need to play, and they both knew it. It ruffled Beau’s feathers, so to speak. The other gym leader sat across from them in their corner booth and leveled an exhausted look in their direcion, one that Beau met with a smirk.

“It’s a challenge for a reason, innit?” they responded flippantly. “Besides, shouldn’t you be celebrating too? I defeated a Dynamax Pokemon with a regular old Pokemon, isn’t that your whole shtick?”

“No,” he responded dully. “My shtick is makin’ sure this league runs smooth as it can, just as yours should be.”

Beau raised their hands sarcastically. “Pardon me for making things interesting and not throwing the match whenever the kid looks pathetic. You goin’ to Raihan next and tellin’ him to ease up too?”

“You know right well that Rihan ain’t pullin’ the same stunts you are,” Piers shot back, pointing a thin finger at Beau and meeting their eyes. “Look mate, I’m one of the only gym leaders left who can stand to talk to you for more than a minute, yeah? So listen here- you play by the rules and start flyin’ right, or you’re off the circuit. Simple as.”

Beau glared. “It isn’t my fault my strategy works. I’m breaking no rules, used no items, nothin’ under the table. You get away with your gym being a dead zone, I’m bein’ just as creative!”

Piers crossed his arms. “When’s the last time a trainer came back for a rematch?”

“Dunno. I don’t bother to remember any of ‘em.

“None,” Piers said. “They don’t come back to try again when they lose to you. An’ the few that win? They’re miserable in their interviews, can’t even enjoy their wins after your tantrums.”

Beau blinked slowly at Piers, resting their chin in their hand. “So?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Is there something wrong with being the best Gym Leader in Galar?”

“Bein’ the best Gym Leader isn’t about winnin’, mate. It’s about playing the same game and making things interesting for everyone. Not just you.”

Beau scoffed. “Can’t say I’d find it very interesting if every kid who rolled in with a Wooloo became Champion, but I suppose you’re right, mate- it isn’t just all for me. Might be then that I’ll just collect a flock of Pidove and let ‘em get zapped so I’m a real team player, yeah?”

“You know bloody well that isn’t what I meant,” Piers said darkly. “Watch yourself, got it? Only a matter of time before the season ends and Gyms get evaluated in the off-season. You’ve skated by this long, but your attitude’s gotten real rotten this time ‘round. One freak to another- you gotta show some sportsmanship ‘fore you’re voted out.”

Piers stood without giving Beau a chance to respond. They glared at his retreating back and pushed back the shadows that seemed to close in to fill the void he left.

Despite Beau’s needling, Piers’s warning turned over in their mind. They liked being a Gym Leader. The showmanship, the challenge, and– naturally– the wins. They trained hard with their Pokemon, spent hours upon hours a day training and caring for them. A large part of their drive to win was to give them that chance to show off, to be seen and praised and applauded alongside himself. If they were to lose that, they weren’t sure what they would do.

But, to sacrifice themself, to shrink down and recede into the background… it wasn’t something they were even sure how to do, let alone for tens of hundreds of kids and the millions of watching fans that packed the stadiums and stayed glued to their screens every season. They wouldn’t shave off an inch of themself for anyone.

Angry and annoyed, Beau left the cheery warmth of the restaurant for the cool night air that seemed more in line with their thoughts.

#writing #OC: gym leader beau #OCs #fic #queue #i'm really proud of this overall ;w; please read and leave feedback if you can

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