#but he wants to be an all rounder so he asks the others to train him in their expertise… at first yuta is a very AWKWARD grifter lmao

[bitterscampi]

hm. bcc leverage au

[tojirings]

to yield

pairing: toji x reader

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: toji's the world-class fighter who trains in your best friend's gym, and you're the all-rounder employee who has a crush on him.

alternatively, mma!toji wants you to stop pining for him, and you finally listen.

[ angst + fluff, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (but only initial!! 😑😑), toji's almost always a little mean whenever he turns u down, nosy as FAWKKK bff satoru, the L word, mentions of mma-related injuries, jealousy, eventual redemption ]

To yearn for Toji is light work. 

Pining after him is as easy as making up workout trivia just to get a reaction from him that isn’t a neutral quirk of his lips or a dismissive tilt of his head. You’re pretty sure you’re going overboard with said lies (the proof being you having to approach Toji without Satoru in earshot just so the latter wouldn’t burst out laughing), but Toji doesn’t seem to think so.

He’s either very clueless and actually believes you, or he’s just tolerant of your “fact” of the day despite being annoyed to death with you.

“Now where the hell did you hear that?” he narrows his eyes at you, the ghost of an amused smirk lingering in his lips the longer you look at him in anticipation for his reaction.

“Just… somewhere! I heard it’s verified information,” you smile, nodding your head to delay the incoming wave of embarrassment that you have for yourself.

“Oh, okay,” Toji parts his lips, nodding tersely. “A reputable news site really said that my grip strength is stronger than a shark’s?”

“Mhmm. You’re the strongest, I bet,” you squeak, the tremble of your hands behind your back coming to a halt when Toji has to excuse himself because Satoru hollered at him from the other side of the gym.

You’re not ready at all to confess to Toji.

Every week, from Monday to Saturday, Toji comes into your best friend’s gym with a scowl on his face as if Satoru personally provoked him one way or another (read: he did), within the window of 9 to 10 AM. Only his left hand would be occupied by his gym bag, which he leaves to you for safekeeping at the front desk instead of the locker room, because Toji would rather punch himself in the gut than to deal with overeager fanboys asking him about his fights.

Additionally, every week from Monday to Saturday, you come to the gym at 7 AM sharp, partially to clock in — but mostly to walk to the expensive coffee shop down the block to buy Toji his drink from your own pocket. Between 9 to 10 AM, Toji saunters into the gym and gives you his bag, to which you take with open arms.

Also, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you make sure that you're Toji’s first interaction of the day.

The routine you have with him (and not the other way around because he’s definitely not as involved with you than you are with him) starts with you giving him a wildcard drink that the barista recommended, then Toji either scrunching his nose in disgust or him humming in something a little bit more pleasant than disgust, then him later thanking you before giving you his standard response.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N,” he’d say, his brows soft yet scrunched in the middle. (In other words: I don’t like you back so you don’t have to do this for me at all.)

“But I want to,” you’d reply, your smile small yet unperturbed. (In other words: I like you and I want to do this for you regardless, but a large part of me hopes that you’ll like me back.)

It’s no secret that you have a crush on Toji– not at all. Practically everyone in the gym knows how head-over-heels you are for him, and maybe even more than the fighter in question.

Satoru knows it, and he groans to no end whenever you pine for Toji like a little puppy. With each interaction you have with Toji that’s more desperate and maybe even a little more pathetic from your end than usual, Satoru wastes no time before offering to set you up with one of his friends, to which you always deny.

Shiu knows it too, and he tries to bring you up during sparring sessions with Toji that come after seeing your more helpless flirting attempts with the latter. Shiu’s actively trying to help you, Toji, and himself in the process because he can’t tell just how much secondhand embarrassment he can take before exploding.

The occasional opponents for practice matches know it. The night janitor knows it. God, even the delivery guy who’s only seen you ask Toji if he wanted water once knows it too.

Toji doesn’t like you, and while you know that fact wholeheartedly, you’ve come to realize that taking care of him in your own way is what completes your day even without getting anything in return. You know you’re bound to be sick of the one-sided yearning anyway, but while you’re not sick of fawning over Toji, you want to make the most of it.

You want to make the most of it until defeat sinks in.

Toji does not care for you — or atleast that’s what he tells everyone.

“I don’t have a crush on her. Never did,” Toji would say to Shiu every time they sparred, his words automatically flowing as soon as he sees the slightest hint of a smirk on his handler’s face. Shiu would always wave him away as usual (and that earns him an ungloved and unrestricted punch on the shoulder out of the ring), and it only makes Toji pout because even his friend doesn’t believe him.

“I don’t like girls who are so obvious,” he would mutter under his breath whenever Satoru nudges him to say thank you when you hold out a clean towel for him even if he didn’t ask. Toji appreciates the cold, fragrant, and personally-delivered-by-you towel anyway, but not enough to smack Satoru on the face with it.

“I don’t know why you’d think that,” Toji, without fail, would reply to anyone in the gym who mistakes him as your boyfriend. He’s gotten shameless with it to the point that he doesn’t mind if you hear it, but also without fail, he feels a little guilty every time.

Toji shouldn’t exactly feel guilty for not liking you back because he doesn’t owe it to you in the first place — or atleast that’s how he reasons with himself.

.

.

.

“I’m gonna stop liking him in a week, Toru. I swear. Cold turkey and everything.” 

“Yup. Sure you will, sport,” Satoru snorts at your drunken admission, kicking your knee lightly to stop you from your sulking.

He feels a little responsible for your feelings towards Toji because if only he didn’t introduce you to him, none of this would’ve happened in the first place. 

You would’ve still been his sole accountant for his gym who only dropped in every once in awhile to help manage the place whenever it was short-staffed and not this; not the multi-tasking beast that you are who’s not only his accountant, but this cheery and energized all-rounder gym employee you he didn’t ask you to be.

“No, no. I’m serious this time,” you mutter, your cheek squished to the table so you can limit yourself from saying anything else that could explain to Satoru why you were hellbent in accepting his offer to drink tonight. “I feel like a fool running after Toji.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly use the word-…”

“I know you think it.”

“Fine. I do think it, but you know I mean well!” Satoru surrenders, ruffling your hair as he takes note of keeping the windows down and driving as slowly as he legally could when he takes you home tonight. “You just aren’t Toji’s type, but that’s not a bad thing, y’know? 

There’s so much more on your mind, but you’re not in the mood to think of Toji any longer because the moment you do, you’ll succumb to him again.

You want to surrender, completely and irrevocably this time, but not without the final push so you could say that you did everything and you’ll have no regrets if Toji turns you down again — or rather, when Toji turns you down again.

“If it doesn’t work out,” you hiccup, burying your face to the bulk of Satoru’s sweater so you could smell the scent of clean laundry on him instead of imagining that you’re smelling Toji’s perfume out of nowhere in the packed club. “Go set me up with your friend.”

( ♡ ) 

Toji’s a little perplexed to see you at the front desk this morning.

After all, it was only last night when he saw you at the club, looking completely spent with your head buried in Satoru’s shoulder. Toji had only nodded to him when their eyes locked, mouthing that he’s with his friends so he can’t hang back with him, and Satoru let him go without any annoying remarks because he just gestures to your sleeping figure wordlessly.

Weirdly enough, Toji didn’t get to enjoy himself last night because his eyes kept wandering to your booth.

What’s even weirder now is that not only did you come to work looking fully recovered, but Toji also hangs back for a fraction of a minute right after giving you his duffel bag.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling tightly as he tries to figure out internally on why his feet wouldn’t move at all.

“Hi, Toji,” you reply back, staying still on your seat as you try to make conversation with him, but oddly enough, no ridiculous trivia could come out of your lips.

All it takes is Satoru whistling from the breakroom for you to snap into your senses, and for Toji to realize what was missing.

You have no drink for him today.

He’s not that bothered because that means he’s not subjected to whatever overly sweet or bitter monstrosity you give him, and that could only mean that he’ll be able to skip giving you his signature rejection.

It’s a good thing for you to start giving up on him, he convinces himself.

Toji tolerates you in a way that’s unbeknownst even to you, because in the first place, you’ve convinced yourself that the crush you have on the MMA fighter isn’t that serious.

Swiping your employee card to get him a free energy drink isn’t that serious in your own perspective, but when you overheard the conversation awhile ago between Toji and Shiu (with the latter convincing him that free energy drinks equated to a marriage proposal), you started doing it for everyone. You swipe your card over and over even for the fighters you barely know, but oddly enough, Toji’s eyes twitch whenever he sees his favorite grape-flavored drink in everyone’s hands.

Offering the Bluetooth connection code to Toji for him to play whatever he wants to on the speakers may be a little serious, but you convince yourself that it really isn’t when you accidentally eavesdrop on Satoru telling him that you totally have it out for him. What you do for Toji, you start to do for everyone; it’s telling with the way your speakers announce whose phone it’s connected to every thirty minutes, but not so much telling as to why Toji’s going extra hard sparring with his handler.

Toji does not care for you — or atleast that’s what you’ve convinced yourself.

Denying his fondness for you has almost been as easy as you tamping down your adoration for him, so much so that when a new guy at the gym randomly comes up to Toji and mentions your name, he responds automatically.

“We’re not together. Go ask…” her out — that’s what Toji’s supposed to say. “I don’t know, actually. I heard she’s taken, I think,” he rectifies himself, exiting the conversation before he could be bombarded with yet another question that revolved around you.

Or another question that would only make him realize that you having eyes for only him doesn’t equate to other people backing off from that mere fact alone.

Toji doesn’t like you, but oddly enough, the fact doesn’t bother you as much lately.

( ♡ ) 

You’re on your last leg of pining for Toji.

The shame of it all is finally getting to you, seeping into your deepest crevices that had thought for the longest time that you had a fighting chance with him. You don’t exactly regret yearning for Toji because after all, it had been in your own accord, no matter the risks you’ve already taken.

Maybe, just maybe, you could only go up from here. 

Maybe, because you and Toji hadn’t been friends to begin with when you pursued him, but on the other hand, it could be your ultimate downfall because perhaps right after he turns you down this time, you won’t be able to come back to anything.

There’s no foundation built between the two of you for you to fall back on, and while that’s surely devastating for you, it would only be a walk in the park for Toji.

You’re risking it all, even if you’re just as sure that nothing will come out of this, because you know you won’t come out unscathed — when Toji finally lets you down this time, harshly like you don’t mean anything to him, you’ll know then that you did everything in your power before you gave up on him.

The omamori in your hands that you’ve planned giving to him is your only salvation, because you get to grip it and remind yourself in real time that Toji’s seething at you.

He’s been stressed since the early morning fighting with his manager who had considered fixing up a match, and despite having resolved it with Choso already even before you came into his eyesight, Toji can’t shake off the anger from his body.

You’re the first person who comes into his space and into his mind, and you’re probably the last for the day (and maybe for an unforeseen amount of time) with the way he snaps at you.

“Y/N, can you just-“ Toji sharply inhales, clenching his jaw so tightly just so he can’t make his voice any louder. “Can you just please fucking stop?”

The omamori that you’re gripping tightly in your hands, the same one that you’ve gotten for blessings and protection for his fight in a month’s time, reminds you that Toji doesn’t want anything to do with you.

“I bet you’re a nice girl and all but I just don’t want you, okay?” he nods breathlessly as if asking you for confirmation. “I don’t like you like that.”

After a year and then some of yearning for Toji, you finally yield.

( ♡ ) 

You don’t come in for work.

Your absence is easily noticed because by this hour, you should’ve been glued to your seat by the front desk, ready to stash Toji’s gym bag under your desk.

He freezes by the entrance, brows knitted in confusion to see that your spot’s empty. He and his bag have been spoiled by you to the point that Toji feels uncharacteristically displaced when he walks past your desk, with his bag and without his drink.

“Huh,” Toji mutters to himself, strolling as casually as he could to the breakroom. He’s already had breakfast and he’ll be willing to have another one if it means lingering around you today, but to his surprise (and his surprise only), you aren’t there. “That’s weird.”

Toji jolts in place when he senses an agitating presence behind him that does little to conceal his proximity behind him, fists immediately clenching when he sees Satoru lean on the wall next to him.

“Jeez. I wonder who could’ve possibly said what to Y/N that made her call in sick today,” he enunciates slowly, enough for the sarcasm to steep in and his words to absorb into Toji’s thick skull.

“What are you-…” Toji interrupts himself when he finally gets what Satoru’s pertaining to, the skip of his chest being telling about the guilt that’s been stewing at the back of his head since last night.

“You weren’t exactly discreet about it, idiot. We were in the breakroom,” Satoru rolls his eyes, standing to his full height when he sees Toji falter. “Even Shiu heard you and he has the most effective noise-cancelling headphones known to man.”

Right on cue, Shiu comes out leisurely out of the room he had been peeking at two seconds ago. It takes only a second for him to register that Toji’s outside for whatever reason (he knows exactly why) before whistling in response, the shit-eating grin on his face apparent for Toji to remember.

“Woof,” he chuckles. “Don’t go biting my head now. I bet you’re a nice guy and all.”

It’s a build-up of things since this morning, and perhaps even from last night if he counts the immediate tinge of regret that stings him when he’s seethed his rejection at you, that truly throws Toji off his game.

Maybe it’s Satoru’s repeated teasing throughout the day and his targeted material of asking whether Toji was hungry or not, right within the timeframe wherein you usually ask him if he wants to join you for a meal.

Maybe it’s Shiu’s incessant mentioning of your name throughout his workout and the convenient reminder that Toji’s working out harder than he usually does, yet there’s no cold towel waiting for him.

But really, whatever it is that just adds up to the already excessive noise in Toji’s head concerning you, he knows now more than ever that absence your absence is noticeable.

His opponent for today’s practice match knows it. The day janitor knows it. Even the delivery guy who’s only been here twice knows it.

Toji simmers in guilt except he doesn’t want to admit it just yet, full well knowing that he would have texted you an apology — if only he had your number.

( ♡ ) 

You come back after three days.

After a year and some months’ worth of excessive reminders from Satoru, you finally take into realization that you don’t have to go to work in-person as often as you do. 

You didn’t know that all it would take for you to slow down and take your much-needed break is Toji by some way (read: rejecting you so harshly that you had been mute on your way home), and you haven’t predicted at all that there’ll be a day wherein you come to work not to pursue him.

Toji immediately notices your presence because even if you were no longer perched by the front desk, it was apparent that you’re already back judging by the way everyone– and literally everyone— in the gym seemed to look at ease somehow.

You’re at the other side of the gym with the light equipment that Toji barely frequents, and it’s the way you stand and smile that makes him pause.

It’s also the way that you smile at Choso that makes Toji announce his presence loudly.

“Let me help you there, buddy,” he claps behind the guy he recognizes as one of his fans (in all fairness, Yuuji isn’t as annoying as all the others who only come here just to get a glimpse of him), startling his already trembling figure.

Toji, without any hesitation yet a lot of frustration, easily grabs the heavy barbell mid-air that Yuuji’s struggling with before dropping it to the ground as roughly as he could.

It’s too light for him. Too easy, even. 

What’s heavier for Toji at the moment is the realization that you’ve given up on him and he has no one to blame but his emotional constipation, and maybe Choso who had pissed him off prior to his tantrum at you.

You did look at Toji and the mini scene he had created, but you immediately avert your eyes as soon as he fixates on yours.

He feels untethered this way, and if the lump on his throat is omniscient of the guilt that he’s feeling yet he’s unable to put into words, Toji wants you to notice him again, tirelessly and shamelessly like you did before.

He’s not in his usual zone, so much so that he barely makes any banter with Shiu who had been talking his ear off in letting Satoru have a go at him.

Toji’s too far out of his concentration, so much so that he agrees to spar with Satoru. 

He’s been pestering him for the longest time to get in the ring with him and Toji had always declined, even if he knows that your friend could take him on to some degree. He’s turned him down again and again for even just a light sparring session, especially when you were around, because he knows that he’s your friend.

He wouldn’t want to hurt Satoru if it hurts you, except now, the difference is that the latter really wants to hurt him and the former is out of his game to the point that he’ll resort to anything just to get your attention.

Toji lands a punch so hard that Satoru audibly croaks, holding his stomach even with the padding on. You’ve always been (read: used to be) the biggest fan of Toji even in practice matches, but now, instead of cheering for him, your eyebrows knit in worry instead–

Except your concern isn’t for him.

“Satoru? You okay?” you immediately come to his side by the ring, eyes inspecting him from head to toe.

Before he could even say that he is and that he’ll get back at Toji with twice the power, Toji pipes in from behind your friend, raising a gloved hand sheepishly.

“I’m not.” 

Toji shamelessly declares his apparent hurt, making everyone nearby audibly gawk at him for his audacity. You only blink at him in the surprise, trying your earnest to see on what part and capacity could Satoru, a non-professional, has possibly injured him.

“H-he punched me by the ear,” he stutters, the lie catching onto his teeth on the way out. The embarrassment of him making up an unbelievable lie is yet to hit, but Toji wouldn’t mind either way.

“What?! I barely even hit you in the face!” Satoru reacts, his face indescribable with the way he swats Toji on the arm in disbelief.

You snort at the scene in amusement, yet your eyes stay fixated on your friend.

“Yeah, yeah. I believe you, Toru.”

( ♡ ) 

True to his word, Satoru sets you up with his friend.

It was amusing, if not mildly infuriating with regards to the universe’s fate for your heart, to learn that Suguru’s the owner of the upscale café you’ve been buying Toji’s drinks from for six out of seven days a week.

It’s actually amusing to the point that you immediately smile whenever Satoru brings up Suguru, even for no particular reason, because if only time and luck had been at your side, you would’ve met him earlier and spared yourself the heartbreak from Toji.

You know to yourself, even in the deepest pits of your stomach that would like to argue otherwise, that you would’ve like Toji regardless even if you met Suguru earlier — what irks you about the whole thing is that fate is twisted.

You’re at standstill with the guy who checks all your boxes and actually likes you back unlike Toji, except this time, you’re content at staying in whatever playful relationship that you and Suguru are in now. 

It’s not a mess per se, but it’s a playful blunder between the two of you wherein you flirt and like each other’s presence, except you’re not in a relationship at all because neither of you are in a rush.

Oddly enough, having each other while not exactly owning the other at same time is enjoyable for the both of you.

For not atleast, you and Suguru are simply fated to be a pair of flirty friends that enjoy each other’s company without having to come home at the end of the night. He has his reservations while you have yours too, but they didn’t mean anything when the other just needs another shoulder present.

Your reservations don’t matter at the moment when there’s an inner turmoil that roots from the base of your chest, simply because Satoru had made the offhand comment that Toji kept asking him about you while you weren’t around.

Your reservations don’t matter at the moment when Suguru comes at the perfect time because he’s not as familiar as the best friend you grew up with, nor is he as fond as the man you’ve spent the better part of a year crushing on and are now wanting to move on from.

“Who’s that?” Toji snaps to no one in particular, the scowl on his face off-putting and intriguing enough for Satoru to notice. He follows Toji’s line of sight, a sly smirk already building up on his face at the prospect of teasing him, even if he knows your real score with Suguru.

“Oh, that’s Suguru. He’s my friend.”

“Didn’t he use to be that defending champion or something?” Toji murmurs, crossing his arms. He vaguely recalls how he once read an article detailing the young player retiring early so he could live a normal life, hearing the name Geto every once in awhile. “Why’s he here?”

“Didn’t you say you never keep tabs on other players?” Satoru snickers, the teasing smirk apparent on his face because of Toji’s sheer bitterness. “Also, it’s my gym. He’s not allowed around here or something?”

“Whatever. Don’t care,” Toji grumbles. “I could take him in a fight. I’d probably destroy him.”

Toji feels unwell, not because he spent a solid ten minutes arguing with a defensive Satoru that keeps insisting his best friend could totally defeat him in a fight, but because throughout that time, not once did you stop smiling at whatever Suguru has to say to you.

Your eyes are practically gleaming and although he loves the sight, there’s this ache that blooms in his chest and spreads all the way to the base of his spine knowing that it’s what you had looked like in front of him for the longest time.

“I bought lunch.”

Toji approaches you as soon as Suguru goes to the bathroom, his smile gentle and hesitant. 

It’s a first for you because you usually treat him. At the start, it was you treating everyone in order not to be transparent with your crush, but there’d been a couple obvious times in which you only exerted efforts for Toji and only him.

Toji doesn’t bother with an excuse of treating everyone or that he had bought too many; he just wants to have lunch with you. “Want some?”

“No, but thank you,” you answer lowly, the shake of your head barely noticeable because you don’t want to look him in the eye.

Toji’s more confused than he is deterred, the bag in his hands suddenly weighing a ton. “But you haven’t left your desk so that means you haven’t eaten yet,” he points out. “Do you not like this type of food? If not, I could just run to the-…”

“There you are!” 

Suguru comes back, and just like that, the crumbs of attention you were giving him had been cleaned up entirely. 

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s gooo, doll. I wanna beat everyone else to the limited specials,” Suguru ignores his obvious beating presence and practically drags you out from your chair (even though you needed little convincing), the hold he has on your wrist making Toji see red briefly.

Toji’s jaw clenches, unconsciously stepping out of the gym not long since you and Suguru rushed out, his sharp eyes following you until you both turn the corner.

It’s the same shop he got your food from.

( ♡ ) 

Toji can’t put a finger to what he’s feeling.

He feels different; the bad and dull kind of different that makes him listless and anxious no matter how much he tries to tire himself out.

He’ll subject himself to an agonizing workout with no breaks in between, but after that, he could only think about the way your bottom lip trembled at his words.

He’ll put himself through one practice match after another without any proper training, and even if Toji wins as he always does, he could only think about how he’s lost all of your affection that he had unconsciously looked forward to the entire time.

Toji finds himself lingering around you and he doesn't know if he could just continue hovering and hovering in this way; in a way that's unlike yours because you were unafraid to stand so close to him, talk to him whenever you please, and trail around him like a lost puppy in the past.

He’s upset and he doesn’t even know why he allows himself to feel that way, when for the longest time, he had convinced himself that he didn’t give you any hope so he had no reason to feel guilty about turning you down; so that he had no problem ignoring you while dealing with his constipation of not apologizing.

Toji’s upset, except he’s too self-aware to the point that it’s only his spite that keeps him awake with regret; he did give you hope. 

He didlinger around you and accept whatever you had to give him despite his lips making out the sentiment that he can never return them.

He did feel guilty at the prospect of turning you down right from the start because if that wasn’t the case, then you would have long given up on him. 

He did feel guilty about rejecting you, especially considering the fact that he wasn’t wholeheartedly sure whenever he refused your love — he still does.

“Toji?” you call out, the sound of your voice immediately startling him with the lights already dim in the breakroom. Toji only frequented the breakroom whenever you were there, and the odd, if not ironic, turn of events makes him smile humorlessly. “Are you drunk? Do you need me to call Satoru?” you ask with genuine concern, tilting your head as you try to assess his figure. “Do you want to go home?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head softly. “It’s jus’ to take the edge off. Probably easier to get a horse drunk than to get metipsy.”

You give a small smile at that, the tremble of your hands barely noticeable with the way Toji’s even more nervous than you at the realization that the two of you are alone with each other.

You’re only here because you forgot your laptop, and Toji’s only here because he doesn’t know what to make of himself because you’ve detached yourself from his routine— from his life, it seems like.

Toji looks down on his full glass, swirling it by his knee. There’s an unspeakable sorrow to his face with something about it resembling you, or atleast the resignation you felt every time Toji turned you down less than gently.

“Why don’t you like me anymore?”

Your eyes widen at the question, the words left in the tip of your tongue drying out the longer that Toji looked at you this way — like he’s stooped down to the level you used to be in, his eyes tired and glassy.

“Why don’t you like me anymore?” he repeats, mistaking the shock on your face for confusion. “If I… i-if I pretend to be drunk and ask you out, will you say yes?” Toji murmurs, using the back of his hand to clumsily get rid of the wetness that had unknowingly formed at the corners of his eyes. “Would that make you go back to liking me again?”

[educatedsimps]

Hi! Saw your requests were open and I just had to stop by! Could I request a (not exactly angst bc the idea is funny but definitely in character for him) Bokuto x reader where he's ranting to a friend about how he loves to hug the reader and his friend just makes an offhand comment about how he'll probably crush her since he's a pretty big guy and he goes all emo mode about it. He doesn't want to hurt anyone :( Obviously we gotta add some comfort at the end for the silly guy

≪ back to fics masterlist

bokuto kōtarō  x f!reader

a/n: omg of course!! i haven't had the chance to write for bokuto and yes i agree this is literally perfect for him 🥰

cw: timeskip spoilers, atsumu being stupid, some hurt/comfort, msby crack

"I can’t wait to go home after this. I’m exhausted," Sakusa sighed.

"It’s not useful practice if it’s not exhausting, Omi-Omi. Be glad you’ve got teammates like us," Atsumu drawled, winking at his teammate and earning a disgusted glare from across the table.

"I thought today’s practice was fun! We got to try the new unorthodox version of our quick attack, and we've almost got it!" Hinata chirped next to Atsumu, with bits of his food flying from his mouth.

"I'm fine with it as long as you guys don't overexert yourselves during training," Lisa, Atsumu's girlfriend and the team's physiotherapist, chimed in from Atsumu's other side.

"What are you guys planning to do when you get home?" Meian asked, stuffing a rice ball in his mouth.

"Shower," was Sakusa's immediate answer.

"Probably do a little bit of meditation," Hinata mused.

"Call my brother to ask for more meal prep bentos," Atsumu said. An amused scoff came from his girlfriend.

"What about you, Bokuto?"

Having been focused on his food the whole time, Bokuto nearly choked on his rice when called upon by his captain. With tempura crumbs coating his lips, he smiled widely and announced, "I'm going home to give y/n a big hug!"

"You sure love hugging y/n, Bokuto-san!" Hinata chuckled, popping a salmon nigiri in his mouth.

"Of course I do! I love hugging her! She's so huggable and I just wanna squeeze her so tight all the time and transfer all of my love for her," Bokuto said, with with his fists in the air. "You guys should all hug your girlfriends tight! The tighter you hug her the more she'll know you love her!"

Shooting Lisa a lovesick smile, Atsumu stated, "We all love hugging our girlfriends, but I won't accidentally crush 'er to bits like someone." He nodded towards Bokuto.

Bokuto stilled, staring at Atsumu with confusion.

"Miya..." Meian warned under his breath.

"What? I mean, have ya seen the guy? He's huge! Could prob'ly flatten 'er if he wanted to," Atsumu continued, chortling at the thought. He stopped short as he noticed the glares from Meian and Sakusa. "What? What'd I say?"

By then, Bokuto was already in a completely different headspace. He had a blank expression on his face and a faraway look in his eyes. His shoulders were slightly hunched and his usually spiky hair seemed to droop at the edges.

Sakusa sighed what was probably the heaviest sigh in the history of mankind as Hinata stage-whispered to his teammate, "Atsumu-san, I think you hurt Bokuto's feelings."

Wide eyed, the blonde setter started to defend himself. "WHA-?! no, i- I DIDN'T EVEN-"

Sensing Bokuto's incoming emotinal shut down (or emotional episode, in this case), Lisa quickly tried to divert their attention. "Please, 'Tsumu. You wish you were as strong as Bokuto-san. Your spikes are weak as shit-"

" 'Cause I'm literally a setter!"

"-and not an all-rounder, which is why Kageyama-kun is ranked first in the country and you're second."

"BABE-"

"Maybe I shouldn't hug her anymore. I don't wanna hurt her. What if I really crush her one day? Then she'll really be flattened like a piece of bread. I don't wanna hurt her. So this means I can't hug her anymore. But I like hugging her. But does she even like my hugs?" Came Bokuto's voice. His brows were now furrowed and his face was etched with worry.

"Of course she does, Bokuto-san! I'm sure she loves your hugs, and you love her too much to ever hurt her, right?" Hinata and Lisa attempted to cheer up the saddened spiker.

Finishing the last of his food, Sakusa stood up, muttering, "I'm exhausted, I can't deal with this right now. My partner's here to pick me up anyway," As he walked past the other side of the table, he spoke to Atsumu in a low voice. "Only a jerk like you would say something like that to Bokuto, of all people."

"SHUT UP, OMI.”

"I’m home…"

Your ears perked up at the sound of Bokuto’s voice and you immediately noticed his dejected tone. Closing your laptop, you got up from your desk and bounced over to the front door to greet him.

Sticking your head round the corner, you saw him place his stuff down by the counter before staring into space. His face was blank and devoid of emotion but his eyes were filled with inexplicable sadness. Seeing him like this tugged on your heartstrings and you knew he was going through one of his emotional episodes. You just didn’t know why.

"Hey, Kō! How was your day?" Slowly walking towards him, you reached out your arms to give him a hug but stopped short when he cried out.

"NO, DON’T HUG ME. I’LL CRUSH YOU."

You froze with your arms mid-air before you dropped them back to your side. He had one hand held out to stop you from coming closer and his face was tucked into his other arm. You could hear quiet sniffles coming from him and your heart broke seeing how upset he was.

"But you already have a crush on me, baby. And I have a crush on you too! I thought we’ve already established that?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work. It was like he didn’t even hear you, so you decided to give him some space (like Akaashi had advised). You guided him to sit on the couch while you went about the house finishing up your chores. After several minutes, he seemed to feel a little better and you decided to talk to him (also like Akaashi had advised).

Sitting by his side on the couch, you reached out and held his hands in your own. His eyes were downcast and he was avoiding your gaze as if his life depended on it.

"Kō? What's wrong?"

"Nothin'."

"Look at me, baby. Please? I wanna see your cute face," you cooed. He pouted for a while more (which was adorable, by the way) before he finally caved.

"Tsum-Tsum said I'll crush you if I hug you too tight 'cause I'm so much bigger and stronger than you. And I don't wanna crush you, I promise! It just made me sacred to think I might not know my own strength and end up hurting you in the process. That's why I'm scared of accidentally hurting you when I’m excited and I know that if I did, you wouldn't say anything which is why I don't wanna accidentally hurt you with my hugs in the first place-" He swallowed the rest of his words as you pressed your lips to his.

"Kō, I love your hugs. They're the warmest hugs anyone has ever given me. Don't tell my mom, but sometimes your hugs are even better than hers," You giggled softly. A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at you. "And it's not a bad thing that you're so strong. It makes your arms really nice to hug! I promise you'll never be able to crush me. I'm stronger than you think, you know?"

"Really? You really like my hugs?" He asked, hope in his eyes.

"Really. A hundred per cent. A thousand per cent. I wouldn't like it any other way, Kō," You reassured him, kissing him sweetly once more. Within seconds, his entire mood had shifted and he was now beaming.

"Okay! I can hug you now!" He cheered. Before you could process anything, you were held in your favourite set of arms and wrapped up in the warmest hug on earth. You hugged him back tightly and felt his soft lips press against the crown of your head. Snuggling into his warmth, you felt so lucky to have him.

"Oh my god, anyone who says your hugs aren't perfect are clearly stupid," You sighed happily.

"Tsum-Tsum is pretty stupid sometimes," Kotaro hummed.

You pulled away, gasping in faux shock. "Really?"

"Pfft, yeah. Even Lisa says so!" He guffawed.

Before you could reply, your phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Lisa: “hey girl! hope everything’s ok with bokuto. my boyfriend’s kinda stupid sometimes so he doesn’t think before he says stuff. hope bokuto’s not feeling too down!”

Y/n: “it’s all good! managed to cheer him up pretty quickly today, haha”

Lisa: “that’s good to hear. you’re the only one who can cheer him up like that, y/n! anyway, rest well, you two. see ya next week!”

Reacting to her message with a heart, you put your phone down and turned back to your boyfriend.

"So, you gonna hug me or not?"

a/n: UM I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY??? pls lmk what u think 😭

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[dandelions-143]

Obsession

Minho Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Paring: Rich non-idol Minho x Dancer curvy/midsize fem!reader

Word count: 2,685 k

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, you will be blocked if you don’t have an age in your bio or you’re under age. Explicit Content, Sexual Situations, Adult Themes, Substance Use, Strong Language.

Summary: Minho becomes captivated by a dancer named Y/n, feeling an intense connection and possessiveness towards her which leaves Minho coming back for more almost nightly. But is Minhos possessiveness really just that… or is it bordering an obsession.

Minho fell back on the large California king bed. His sweaty back hit the rumpled black silk sheets, causing the fabric to stick to him slightly. He watched as Jisung had a pretty redhead on all fours, taking her from behind. Minho was exhausted, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He had just finished, so the exhaustion was a relief. All the tension left his body, at least for a while. He was always tense and on edge, and sex was usually the only way to relieve that tight tension.

Minho reached over to the nightstand to grab a pack of cigarettes just as Jisung finished with the girl. “Thanks, that was amazing as always.” Then Jisung fell back on the end of the bed, trying to catch his breath.

The girl got up from the bed, grabbed her clothes and money from Jisungs dresser by the door. “See you boys, same time next week,” she said matter-of-factly. Jisung smiled and nodded in approval, but Minho just stared at the ceiling, taking a long drag from his newly lit cigarette.

A silence fell over the two men before Minho began to chuckle. “You know, if we keep this up, people are going to start thinking we fuck each other as well.” This made Jisung laugh out loud, his big eyes going even rounder than usual. “It’s not like we haven’t come close before. I mean, a threesome is a threesome.” The men just chuckled at themselves.

To many, this would seem very odd: two grown men who are best friends engaging in threesomes with beautiful women and occasionally very handsome men. But to them, it was normal. They lived harsh lives despite the rich and lavish lifestyles of their parents. These moments of sexual intimacy gave them both a way to release any pent-up anger or tension. They couldn't care less how it looked to the outside world. It wasn't a secret, but they did keep it from their families, especially their fathers.

Minho began to sit up to pick up his clothes from the floor. He needed to get home and shower before meeting up with Hyunjin, who had recently been employed by his father. He felt bad for the guy; his life had been a train wreck lately, and Minho wanted to help him as best as he could. “Where are you going?” Jisung asked as Minho pulled on his black boxers.

“I have to go meet up with Hyunjin. Show him the ropes and get him settled in. You know my dad recently hired him as one of his carriers, right?” Minho said, pulling on his shirt and then his pants. Jisung, still lying on the bed, only nodded. “Yeah, let’s hope he does a good job. If he gets caught with that much dope...” Jisung didn't need to finish his sentence; they both knew what would happen. It had already happened to Chan once. Thank God his father was disgustingly rich and had his hands in the police force, or Chan would probably still be rotting in prison.

A thought crossed Minho's mind. Hyunjin didn’t have a wealthy father; he only had his friends and the money he earned himself. Minho wanted to ensure Hyunjin stayed safe. Just as Minho was putting on his shoes, his phone rang. He sighed, not in the mood to talk to anyone except Jisung. But when he saw his father’s name flash on the screen, he answered on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“Mhm… well- oh, okay.”

“Yeah, I’m headed there now. Okay, thanks. Mm, bye.”

Minho hung up the phone and stood from the end of the bed. He turned to Jisung as he tucked in his shirt. “I hope you have a suit. Meet me here around 10 tonight. It seems a business deal we set up went through, and both our fathers were paid very handsomely for it. So they are going to treat us tonight once I’m finished with Hyunjin.”

Jisung sat up at the sound, his pretty, toothy smile showing shamelessly. “What kind of treat are we getting?” He began to get up, the silk sheets sliding off his naked body. “Not sure yet, but I’ll let you know once I find out. I gotta run. See you later.” Just as Minho was slipping out the door, he heard Jisung's phone ringing, knowing it was probably his father calling to tell him the same thing.

After hours of showing Hyunjin how Minho's father liked things done and then actually taking him on a small drug run, he was annoyed and slightly spent. He walked through his front door and there sat Jisung, man splayed on his couch in a black-on-black suit. “Oh come on... it’s not even 10 yet,” Minho groaned when he saw his best friend.

He just was not in the mood to deal with Jisung's sunny disposition. Jisung only smiled widely with a little shrug. “I had nothing else to do, so I got ready and came over to wait on you.” Minho only scoffed and headed to his master bedroom where he could shower and get ready.

After about 20 minutes, Minho emerged in a similar-looking black suit, but he was wearing a crimson red shirt under the suit jacket. It was unbuttoned quite a bit. His hair was slicked back, a few strands falling in his eyes. “Did you ever find out where we are going?” Jisung asked as he got up from the couch, straightening out his suit and running a hand through his hair.

Minho spoke as they left his home and got inside the waiting black car parked in front. “We are going to that gentleman’s club my father just opened a month ago. He said he’s got us a private room together or we can have a private room for each of us. He said to do as we pleased.” Minho had a soft smirk on his face when Jisung giddily clapped his hands, “Hell yeah, I’m so ready to have some boobs in my face.”

Minho chuckled at Jisung, “Do you even know what a gentleman’s club is?” Jisung's smile dropped a bit, “Umm, a strip club?” He spoke slowly, unsure of the answer he was giving. Minho only smiled and looked out the tinted window from his position in the back seat, “Close enough.”

It didn’t take too long to get to the gentleman’s club. The place was in a very expensive part of town, near some of the most high-end hotels and three-star Michelin restaurants. The building itself was rather large, but simple on the outside. More discreet than one would expect, but once the two men stepped inside, the simple and discreet atmosphere was completely gone.

The establishment was VIP only. You had to have a membership to even get in, and that was a lengthy process in itself. But, of course, Minho and Jisung walked right through the doors as if they owned the place. The entire club was lit up with red lights, black velvet furniture, and everything was trimmed in gold.

There was a large stage with a live band playing. Booths covered in red velvet lined the walls and other areas. Each section had a smaller stage with a singular pole in the middle. There was also a bar where people could sit and order drinks. Waitresses were running about taking orders because, of course, you could have an elegant dinner here as well.

Girls were dancing to the music in barely-there lingerie, spinning and twirling on the poles, but none of them were naked, and most looked very put together. Minho heard Jisung whistle and nudge his arm. “This place is… way different from the strung-out strippers we have enjoyed in the past.”

Just then, a petite older woman clad in a very pretty dark green cocktail dress walked up to them. Jisung was instantly enthralled with her. “Will you two follow me? Your room is ready for you.” She turned on her heel to lead them through the crowd and to the back down a dark hallway. As they came to a stop at one of the closed doors, Jisung smiled sweetly at what he assumed was the hostess, “Do you dance as well?” he asked, leaning against the door in the coolest way he could.

Minho shook his head and opened the door, causing Jisung to stumble inside the room. He let out a soft yelp before he fell completely onto the plush carpet of the room. “Damn! Why’d you have to do that! She was gorgeous.” Jisung complained as he got himself up and walked over to the black sofa, plopping down onto the cushions. “She works for your dad, she’s his secretary. I don’t think you fucking the secretary would go over well with him.”

Jisung huffed out an annoyed sigh, “And how do you even know that?” Minho simply tapped the side of his temple, “I pay attention, something you should do more of.” The men were interrupted by a light knock on the door and then two waitresses came in with food and a large bottle of their favorite drinks. Minho politely thanked them as they left. His father must have really made sure they were well taken care of.

Jisung was rattling off about having to wait too long for their private show to start when this sultry, hypnotic beat began to play. The song had a slow, seductive rhythm. The atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming more intimate and charged with a sense of anticipation. Jisung instantly shut up when a very beautiful woman stepped out onto the stage.

Minho's eyes were transfixed on you, your body curvy and soft, with an hourglass figure that moved gracefully to the rhythm of the music. Your skin glowed under the dim, seductive lighting, and every curve was accentuated by the delicate, barely-there lingerie you wore. Your presence exuded confidence and allure, making it impossible to look away.

He felt his heart race as his eyes locked onto yours for the first time. His breath caught in his throat, and it felt as though time had slowed down. Every detail of your appearance, from the delicate curve of your smile to the graceful way you moved, captivated him completely. A warmth spread through his chest, and he couldn't help but be mesmerized by your beauty. It was as if everything else in the room faded away, leaving only you in sharp focus.

“Holy fuck..” Minho heard his best friend exclaim beside him, “She’s gorgeous.” Now Minho was not a possessive person, especially over someone he hasn’t even met. He had only laid eyes on you but, oh man did he want to have you all to himself. He didn’t like the way Jisung was speaking about you.

Minho leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes following every sensual move you made. You could feel both of the men’s eyes on you and this was nothing new to you. Working at this club and other clubs in the past, men were always around, always ogling you, always stupidly drooling over you like they had never seen a woman before.

But what made this encounter different is one of the men was watching you in a way you had never been looked at before. His eyes were extremely pretty and focused, not on your body but, your face. He kept making eye contact with you and it made you feel shy.. you never felt shy.

Minho felt Jisung tap him on the arm with the back of his hand. “Hey, do you think she would be down for more than just a dance?” Jisung was alluding to their usual threesomes they liked to partake in, but Minho was not interested in that. “I think she would be for the right price, you know?” Jisung just kept talking. Minho wanted his friend to just... shut up so he could enjoy you.

When you made eye contact with Minho once more as you dropped to your knees in a sensual move you had done many times before, he muttered, “Ji, get out.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t sound mad or angry; he just simply told Jisung to leave the room.

Jisung, of course, laughed a little as if he thought Minho was just joking. “What?”

“Leave the room, now.” Minho never took his eyes off you, even as you twirled easily around the pole. “But—” Jisung began, but Minho cut him off, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Jisung, get the fuck out.” He didn’t care where his friend went at this point. He didn’t care if he found another room, stayed at the bar in the main hall, or just simply went home, but he suddenly didn’t want anyone else’s eyes on you... especially not his best friend's.

Jisung let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically as he stood up from the couch. “Fine, fine, I’m going,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He took one last glance at the stage, clearly frustrated by the abrupt interruption of their evening. With a huff, he made his way to the door, his footsteps heavy against the plush carpet. As he reached for the handle, he cast a final glance back at Minho, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity flickering in his eyes, before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him with a definitive click.

Minho leaned back, relaxing against the couch just as the first song ended. You moved like this was just another night as the next song began, but you heard the handsome man speak directly to you this time. “You don’t have to dance anymore.” It sounded so sweet... his voice was soft and calming even. Not at all what you expected to come from him.

With his angular face, his sharp pretty eyes, and pouty lips. “Come sit with me.” He wasn’t asking so... since you were being paid for this, you did as he said. As you got closer, you could see a few tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt. Before you could plant your curvy, thong-clad ass on the sofa, this man stands, takes off his suit jacket, and places it around your shoulders... to cover you up.

This was not normal... not for you... and not while you were working. Even though this wasn’t a place where the women got naked on stage, you never wanted to cover up. “You don’t like what you see?” you asked, trying to sound a bit playful but also trying to see exactly what this man was doing. If he wasn’t here to see your body, then why the fuck was he here?

You watched as his pouty lips quirked to the side in the most adorable little smirk. “I actually love what I see, but I can’t concentrate and talk to you when your body is just… out for me like that.” You raised a brow at him, a questioning look on your face. “You want to talk to me?” The question came out in an astonished way.

He simply nodded, “Mm, I’m Minho and you are?” he asked, holding his hand out for you to take. With his suit jacket off now, you saw more of him. His hands were slender but not overly large, and black tattoos peeked out from the sleeve of his button-up. His build, from what you could tell, was muscular but not overly so. The more you looked at him, the more truly handsome you realized he was. His eyes though... they were the best part of him. They were not small but not large. Sharp and dark, they had this sparkle about them... like a fire was lit in them. It made you self-conscious but not in a bad way.

You took his hand, finally, “I'm Y/n.” As your hand met his, a surge of electricity seemed to pass between you both. Minho felt an unexpected warmth and a sense of connection that was almost tangible. The callouses on his hand, a testament to his tough life, contrasted with the softness of your touch, creating a moment of profound intimacy. You, on the other hand, was struck by the firmness and confidence in Minho's grip, feeling a blend of curiosity and a strange comfort. You both were momentarily lost in the sensation, realizing that this simple handshake held the promise of something deeper.

Eventually, you pulled your hand away, almost too swiftly. Your eyes broke away from the intense stare he was giving you. “So...” you slid his jacket from your shoulders, exposing the lacy black lingerie once again, “What do you want? Another dance?” You leaned closer to him, trying to slip back into work mode. “Or... I can do a lot more than dance... your father said to give you whatever you wanted.” You began to slide your hand up his arm, feeling his muscles flexing beneath his deep red dress shirt.

Just as your hand began to cup his cheek, he gently grabbed your hand and placed it down on your lap. “You’re free to go,” he simply said. Minho didn’t look angry; he didn’t look upset... he was calm. You watched as the man stood, a very evident hard-on in his pants, and you could tell he was a bit embarrassed by this. The very first crack in his very cold, hard mask.

As he walked towards the door, he glanced back at you once more, gave you a little nod as if to say thank you, and then he was gone.

He took a moment to lean his shoulder up against the wall just outside the door. What the fuck… Minho thought to himself. He had never felt so many emotions all at once due to a woman. His heart was pounding, his hands were clammy, he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you were. It almost made him sick as to how weak in the knees this woman HE DID NOT KNOW made him feel.

Every night for the next two weeks, Minho booked all your time. You didn’t dance for anyone else or in the main hall for the crowd. You only danced in that same private room and only for Minho.

He watched you silently, with a stoic expression, his intense dark brown eyes the only sign of emotion. He never spoke to you again like he did that first night; he just watched, sipping his whiskey or bourbon. You found yourself wanting to talk to him more each time you saw him.

You were curious about this man who only wanted to look at you without touching. On this particular night, Minho seemed anxious. He wasn't exactly distracted since he kept his eyes on you, but he kept fidgeting. His hands ran through his dark hair, messing it up, and his leg bounced a little. He was drinking more than usual.

When the last song ended, you stopped him from leaving. “Minho...” you said softly from your kneeled position on the stage. He paused mid-stride, his back turned to you. He didn’t respond, but he was listening. “Are you alright?” you asked, feeling the need to check on him.

You heard him sigh softly before turning to face you. “Don’t I look alright?” he replied, his eyes pinning you down, making you feel self-conscious again. You slowly stood up, your heels softly clicking on the stage as you walked over to him. “No, you don’t. You seem anxious. You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m here to help.” You reached out, sliding a hand over his and up his arm.

Minho jerked away and bit down on his bottom lip. “I- I don’t like to be touched like that.” You thought it was odd, so you tilted your head in curiosity. “But then how do you love a woman or a man? You have to touch and be touched.” A soft smirk formed on Minho's lips. “If you’re talking about sex, then I don’t love or make love… I fuck. As far as domestically loving someone,” he paused, “That has never happened and will never happen.”

His last sentence seemed final, as if he didn’t want to continue the conversation. Minho turned to leave again, but you caught his hand, which he didn’t pull away from this time. “Why do you book me every night I work? Doesn’t it get boring seeing the same girl on stage every time?” You were genuinely curious, but a part of you didn’t want him to leave just yet. You liked the energetic, charged feeling he gave you. There was a static in the air between you two, and you looked forward to it.

Minho turned around, taking a stride closer to you. He was so close you could feel his body heat. Leaning in, his lips almost touching yours, he whispered, “No one else is allowed to see you but me. You’re my dancer.” His voice in your ear did interesting things to you, curving your back and parting your lips. As he pulled back, your eyes met his, holding that stare.

Then you said the words you never said to any client, “Let me touch you.” You never made sexual advances like this, always making sure clients knew you weren’t offering sex for money. But with Minho, you wanted to see what his body could do to you. You wanted to be the one he allowed to touch him.

Your eyes dipped to his lips as his tongue licked over his bottom lip. For a moment, you thought he would refuse, but then he said, “Sit.” He pointed to the couch. You didn’t hesitate and sat down on the plush couch. Minho gently pushed your shoulders back so you were leaning completely against the back of the couch.

You watched this beautiful man, who probably never knelt for anyone, sink to his knees in front of you. He began taking off your heels, dropping them to the side. Then his warm hands slid up your calves, over your knees, to your thighs. Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, and the anticipation made your chest rise and fall dramatically. Minho's eyes were focused on one spot directly between your thighs as he spread your legs apart.

“I said I wanted to touch you..” Your voice was timid and soft. His touch made it hard to think. Those eyes shot up to yours, piercing deeply, “I don’t like to be touched, but I will gladly touch you.” And just like that, you were his, at least in that moment.

Minho's hands slid up to your hips, gripping them firmly and yanking you towards him, causing your ass to rest on the edge of the cushions. He hooked a finger in the gusset of your lacy, light blue, slightly transparent bodysuit, pulling it aside to expose your very wet pussy. You swore you heard a soft rumble deep within his chest as he looked at you, vulnerable and ready for him.

Minho wasted no time, leaning closer and biting at the inside of your thighs, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. His teeth on you were unexpected but felt amazing. Then his soft, wet tongue was on you, slowly licking between your wet folds. Minho stayed silent, but his face said volumes. His eyes locked on your face, filled with lust. His hands massaged and kneaded your thighs as he licked slowly over your entire pussy.

When your legs began to tremble from the intense pleasure, he finally latched his lips onto your clit, sucking gently. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan loudly. Minho's eyes never left yours, and the connection felt electric and undeniable.

“Fuck!” you mumbled, lifting your hips and tangling your hands in his hair, tugging as his suction became more intense. His hands moved from your thighs to your ass, lifting you just enough to grab handfuls of your flesh.

“Minho.. Minho.. don’t stop.” You chanted, soft sighs and whimpers escaping constantly. The moment you began chanting his name, he seemed charged with even more need to please you. He pressed his tongue in and out of your needy hole, his entire face pressed into your pussy, his nose sliding up and down your swollen clit.

Minho wasn't afraid to get all your juices on him, loving your smell and taste. His cock grew extremely hard in his pants. It was uncomfortable, but he endured just to see you laid out like this, a dinner only for him.

As your orgasm built, your body reacted uncontrollably, your back arching, hips grinding against Minho's eager mouth. The tension coiled tightly in your lower abdomen, ready to snap. Just as you were about to tip over the edge, Minho's fingers joined in, sliding two digits into you, curling them perfectly to hit that sweet spot inside you.

With a final, desperate cry of his name, your orgasm crashed over you, waves of pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body. Minho didn't let up, his mouth and fingers working you through your climax, drawing out every last tremor. As you came down from the high, Minho moved back, his handsome face shining slightly with your juices.

He simply licked his lips then sucked the rest of you off his fingers. You watched him put your clothing back in place and then slowly stand. You saw the imprint of his cock in his pants, and you genuinely wanted to give back what he just did for you. You moved to kneel in front of him.

Minho watched you, his hands hanging loosely by his side as you ran your hand over the bulge in his pants, but when you went to unbutton his pants, his hand stopped you. He shook his head and helped you to your feet, his hand holding yours a bit longer before letting go. “You should get home soon, I will see you soon,” he muttered before leaving, his energy still filling the room after he was gone.

You were being paid a lot to give your time to Minho, but why did it feel like every moment with him was worth far more than money? The connection between you two was undeniable, leaving you wanting more and questioning what drew you so deeply to him.

Thank you all for your support! I’m writing a bit slower due to life stuff but, I will continue posting as often as I can! As always all interactions with my works are appreciated! I hope you enjoyed!!

Taglist: @cashtonsbetch @katsukis1wife @hyunjinhoexxx @ihrtlino @breezy-simp @vixensss @yaorzu-blog @tirena1 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @chuuyaobsessed @doohnut @babigriin @iovecb97 @kpflyn @rylea08 @sheerfreesia007 @tsunderelino @cookiesandcreamy

If you want to be tagged in only Minho gifs please specify or else you will be tagged in every members gifs! Thanks! 🙏

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Child reader asking the more muscular men if she’ll ever have boobs as big as them. And asking if they have to wear bras

it’d be even funnier if child reader did it infront of everyone

-You had been curious for a while, wanting to know something, after you learned something from Brunnhilde and the older Valkyrie sisters.

-You had seen them wearing something over their big boobies, but when you saw the men in your family who also had big boobies, they weren’t wearing it.

-The shape was different, while the girls were rounder, but the size seemed to be pretty consistent between boys and girls, with the boys actually being larger.

-You were sitting on Loki’s lap, looking up from the picture book you had been looking at with him, seeing the others surrounding you, Buddha, Thor, Lu Bu, Hercules, and Ares, most of them topless, as it was hot, Buddha eating a popsicle.

-You then spoke up, getting attention on you, “I have a question. Will my boobies get as big as your guy’s boobies?”

-A pin could drop and make a sound like a firecracker, that’s how quiet it was in the room while everyone looked at you, eyes wide at your bold question; however, they couldn’t say anything because you didn’t know the difference of boobs between males and females.

-Loki on the other hand was pretty sure he was going to die from laughing so hard, having fell over after you hopped off his lap, going over to Hercules who picked you up, holding you on his lap, also trying not to laugh.

-Hercules grinned down at you, “We got ours from training, lifting weights, swinging swords and other weapons, and training our muscles.” You flexed your arms, looking at them a bit curiously, “So if I train I’ll get big boobies?”

-Hercules floundered, looking at his fellow warriors for help while Loki rolled off the couch, clutching at his stomach before Ares smiled, “You’re still very young Y/N- you have to grow up all the way first before that happens.”

-You pouted, not liking that answer, “I have to grow up for everything!” laughter filled the room again as Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades walked in before you spoke, asking another question, “Then why don’t you wear bras if your boobies are so big?”

-Loki was pretty sure he was going to die, and Zeus was quick to join in while Poseidon rolled his eyes as Hades came over, ruffling your hair, “Boys don’t have to wear bras, Y/N.”

-Your little arms crossed over your chest, “Well that’s not fair!” Hades couldn’t help but snort in laughter which got most everyone in the room, except for Poseidon, roaring with laughter, hearing your displeasure while Loki passed out, unable to breath in from laughing so hard, but you all ignored him, as he was quiet now.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I might be a bit obsessed with this but I just like the idea that no matter how much more attractive they became over the years, Jake and Bradley still find their most attractive features to be the ones they had from the beginning

Like, I imagine that they meet in flight school when they're like 21-23 tops and haven't really filled out yet and even when they meet at Top Gun for the Dagger Mission as bitter exes that haven't talked to each other for a few years, they still feel the most attracted to the physical features they had all those years before, even if they've worked on their physiques enough that subjectively, anyone else would find something else in them attractive

For example, with Jake, most people would say what makes him the most attractive is his chest and arms but he wasn't built like that the close to ten years before when he and Bradley met. This kind of build is made by precise weight training, a strict protein heavy diet, and enough free time to do both and Jake never had that in the Naval Academy. He entered the flight training muscular but lean, with just the shape of a six pack and nice, muscular thighs made with punishment laps around the gym and morning exercise at the academy. Genetics, however, made his ass very very nice with hardly any try. And Bradley loved that tight perky ass when he was 23 and he's feeling so fucking fond about that ass when he's 33 he is barely paying attention to Jake's pecs and biceps and wide shoulders. All he can think is how that ass will feel if he gives it a squeeze, how that is going to move under his fingers when Jake tenses up.

To go even more into being sappy, I think Jake would find the most attractive the same parts of Bradley that Bradley would feel a bit insecure about. Imagine that Bradley was one of those kids that had a mismatched puberty — he got the hair, the shadowy mustache and the deep voice but he never quite grew out of being lanky, kinda like his dad. The baby fat never goes away from his cheeks and years of playing baseball make his thighs thick and sturdy but don't give the same advantage to his back and shoulders — it was kind of impossible with his diet and lack of protein and proper nutrition when he was a broke college student going to NROTC training three times a week.

Bradley hated it. The thick thighs would make his hips look rounder and made him the target of a plethora of 'girly hips' and 'thunder thighs' remarks from his baseball team. He's tried to mask the insecurity with putting swagger to his hips and with jokes about being jealous of his ass and with loose, unfitting jeans, but he's never grown out of it.

And Jake loved his thighs. Would always ask Bradley to squeeze his hips between them, would sit on them like it was the comfiest chair ever, would just grab and squeeze the softer sides, higher and closer to Bradley's hips, and caress it.

Bradley gets better at lifting, gets his back and shoulders wider, gets his arms bigger and yet—

And yet when Jake sees him, almost ten years since they met for the first time, wide shoulders, muscular back, the biceps so big he wouldn't be able to wrap his hand around them, six pack and sculptured, flat tummy, all he can think is God, I want those thighs around me. Because Bradley's thighs are still thick, his hips are still slightly rounder than the rest of him, but he's more proportionate and it just doesn't show as much.

And on top of everything, they will never ever admit it to anyone, but there's something else they find more attractive than anything else.

Bradley could look at Jake's dimples forever, the way they make Jake's eyes crinkle more and more with age, and Jake could look at the apples of Bradley's cheek, soft and round from the narrow-eyed smile, forever.

[sturniclos]

Eternal sunshine has me so fucked upppp rn like thinking ab Luke Castellan and reader that never got their happy ending together.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x reader

Notes/warnings: Angst, eternal sunshine is sooo good go listen, spoilers for the books, looks are described as Charlie Bushnell's Luke Castellan, not really happy ending LMFAOOO, set before and after tlt and tlo, kind of really rushed I was typing this up as I was listening to the album again. unediteddd

track vi. Supernatural

don't want nobody else around me. just need you right here you're like the only thing that I see. it's crystal clear and I I want you to come claim it, I do

When you first arrived at Camp Half-Blood, you hadn’t talked to anyone for a week.

Not intentionally, of course. You did say hi and bye to people in passing, but for some reason you couldn’t muster up the courage to strike a conversation and make some friends. You felt so out of place, and the anxiety of being in such a new place without for family didn’t make it any better.

It didn’t deter 14 year old Luke, who was determined to make sure you felt like you had a place at camp, like many others had for him. He was a little awkward, still not yet realizing the desire to make you happy was a crush.

“No one here’s going to bite, but I’d stay away from the Ares cabin.” Luke lightly jokes, nudging your shoulder as you smile shyly and nod.

“I think I just miss my mom. I’m not used to really being separated from her.” Your eyes threaten to water, knowing you probably wouldn’t be able to see her in order to keep her safe.

Luke’s lip pull into a thin frown, scooting in to rub his hand on your shoulder. His eyes flicker around awkwardly, unable to figure out what to say when you look so pretty, hair flowing while the scent of pine and vanilla fills his senses. “I miss my mom too,” he starts, licking his dry lips as he figured out what to say. “You’re not in this alone, though. We all go through the same things and are all here to support each other…” he trails off, leaning down to look at your face as you lift your head. “…if they let us.”

You smile and look back out to the lake, hiding your blush with your hair as you avoid eye contact, uttering only a small “Thank you.” In response.

Luke doesn’t need anything else out of you, he only smiles triumphantly as he looks out as well, pink dusting his cheeks as he sits in comfortable silence with you.

After a couple weeks of clinging around you, he finally got you to warm up. Not only to him, but to everyone at camp. It wasn’t long until you were happily chatting with other campers, older and younger- beaming at everyone like the sun.

You still find yourself attaching to Luke, opting to spar and continue your never-ending banter. Luke found himself doing the same, ditching cabin checks with Chris to swim with you in the lake, (which he would make up for later by sneaking him an extra dessert).

When you were tasked to start training younger campers, you were 16 and Luke was 17, both of you on your way to become Camp counselors for the year-rounders.

Luke always looks to pick you as an example while training, cheekily smiling as you both demonstrate a hand-to-hand match, his breath hitching at how gracefully you move as you fight. Fluid, calm, quick, you deal blow after blow while effortlessly blocking and evading attacks, maneuvering around him to knock him to the ground in one swift movement.

He knows he’s done for as he stares up at you, chest heaving up and down as you sit on his back, looking down at him teasingly. The sun shines on your face, a sheen of sweat covering your forehead as you bring out your hand to help him back up.

Your lips are moving, slightly chapped from your heavy breathing, but he’s not listening- absorbed in the way your lashes flutter and how your cheeks are a bit rosy from sparring.

“…Castellan?” You ask confused, waving your hand in front of his face as you try to bring him back to earth.

He blinks once, twice, before shaking his head, “Huh?”

“The kids… they’re waiting to be instructed, they paired up already.” You say, gesturing to the campers surrounding you.

He nods and chuckles awkwardly as he turns to everyone, instructing what to do and circles each pair, correcting stances and giving advice. You watch on the sideline, enjoying the way his brows furrow in focus and how his arms look when he slightly flexes (which you suspect he might’ve caught on to.), warmth blossoming across your chest as he happily high fives one of the younger boys.

Luke makes his way back to you, like he always does, picking out a stray pine needle from your hair as you put away your sword. You turn and help him unbuckle the shoulders of his armor, smiling at him as you switch to the other.

His heartbeat quickens as he continues to watch you fiddling with the buckle, fighting the consuming urge to kiss you, instead settling for placing his hand casually on your hip. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to his, your lips twitching into a small smile at the intimacy.

You take off his helmet, ruffling his hair and pulling sections out to fluff it out, “I don’t know if we can save the helmet hair today, Castellan.”

He laughs and pulls you in to roughly ruffle your hair, “Guess you’ll have to have it with me then.”

-

track xii. imperfect for you

and usually, I’m fucked up, anxious, too much but I’ll love you like you need me to imperfect for you

Luke wasn’t the same after his quest.

It was evident the second he came back, barely speaking to anyone, sparring with more aggression, and sleeping in more as the days go by. The stinging scar on his face was a painful, physical reminder of his failure- the pitiful gazes that would follow him humiliated him even further.

You, however, remained the same as ever. A constant in Luke’s life, always lingering and always ahead to encourage him to do better.

“I brought you food, they let me borrow the kitchen and make strawberry tarts.” You gently sit the plate on the small stool that Luke used as a bedside table, sitting next to his laying body, his back facing away from you.

He doesn’t respond, attempting to continue pretending to be asleep. You roll your eyes and lightly shake his shoulder, squeezing him softly as if to reassure him. With no response, you sigh and leave the cabin, uttering a small “love you.” As you close the door.

Anyone at camp could tell you how moody Luke was after he got back, flipping from being his normal self to being distant, snippy and irritable. It was hard to be able to go back to how it was before, not without the guilt of failing his quest hovering over him.

You still stand by his side, holding out your hand to delicately hold his as you tell him it’s okay, that you’re there for him.

He hasn’t been kind to you either- trying his best to push you away whether it’s through ignoring you or snapping at you like he does with the other campers. Despite his behavior, you stick by him, uttering words of reassurance as he cries into your shoulder, arms wrapped around your middle as you stand next to where he sits on the log. You play with his curls, massaging his scalp as you calm him down.

“I’m sorry I-" Luke stutters as he inhales several times, struggling to breathe through his tears, “I’m sorry I can’t figure myself out. I don’t mean to-.”

You take his chin and lift his head to face you, wiping away his tears as you look into his eyes. He takes in more sharp, jagged breaths, blinking away the rest of his tears as you rub your thumbs along his jaw.

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m not going anywhere, I have patience.” You giggle as you kiss him on the forehead. “You could never hurt me, Luke."

Luke hiccups as you ghost your hand over his scar, clutching your shirt as you rest your forehead against his.

track x. we can't be friends (wait for your love)

cause' I don't wanna argue, but I don't wanna bite my tongue, yeah I think I'd rather die

The gravel crunches behind you, but you don't turn to look to see who it is. There's only one other person that would know where you were.

Luke sits by you, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at you avoid his gaze.

Your eyes are glued onto the lake, knowing that if you look at Luke you won't be able to stand your ground. You should've attacked him for even coming back to camp, for having the audacity to even show his face at your spot.

The moonlight illuminates the water beautifully, the reflections of light giving a starry glow. You turn to the right to see Luke, eyes as adoring as you've known them. His scar catches the light perfectly, softly highlighted on the tip of his cheekbone. Luke gives you a soft smile, eyes flickering down to your lips before looking at you again.

"I had to do it for us. Kronos has a vision- a golden age where we won't need to be controlled by our parents. We'd be free from our parents." Luke talks eagerly, leaning in and eyes begging for you to hear him out.

You shake your head firmly, getting up while waving your hands in the air in dismissal, "Kronos, doesn't care about us Luke, we shouldn't need some golden age to be happy."

"Helping Kronos gives us immunity- we'll be protected, safe, together."

"I don't want immunity or a new age, Luke. No one is going to be protected, especially not by Kronos."

Luke gets up to grab your wrist, turning you to face him, and you curse yourself for the familiar warmth in your chest spreading at the sight of his eyes. He knows there's no convincing you about the morals- he knew a loss when he saw one.

He pleads softly, voice breaking as he holds your waist. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Come with me, please." His fingers clutch at your shirt, reminding you of the night you comforted him after his quest.

You shake your head in response, tears spilling over as you wrap your arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. Luke delicately wraps his arms around your waist, hands ghosting underneath your shirt so he could rub your back as you sniffled.

"You know I can't." You wipe your tears away as you look up at him one last time, sinking in every detail. The moles on his face, his kind eyes, the scar that reaches from his cheekbone to jaw, and his lips.

Luke kisses you deeply, grasping your hair and holding you close to him by your waist with the other hand. You cup his face in return, slowly moving your hands to his shoulders as you break the kiss.

He smiles at you again before grabbing his necklace in his pocket and putting it in your hand, closing your fingers over it before taking step back. Subconsciously, you lean towards him, still not ready to say goodbye.

Luke picks up Backbiter, swiftly slashing in front of him to open a portal. He looks back at you once before walking through, leaving you alone at the lake.

track i. intro (end of the world)

if the sun refused to shine baby, would I still be your lover? would you want me there? if the moon went dark tonight and if it all ended tomorow would I be the one on your mind?

Your piercing scream is all Luke can hear as he stabs himself.

There was truly no other option, and you knew that, but it didn't hurt any less as Luke drops to his knees with a fucking smile.

You run towards him, stumbling over your feet as you land next to him, grabbing him as you sobbed, cradling his face and stroking his hair.

Luke can't find himself to be sad, not when you still look so gorgeous, cheeks tearstained and covered in sweat and grime from battle. Even in death- you're the only thing that he sees.

"Don't cry, don't cry." Luke weakly smiles at you as he lifts up his hand to hold your face. "Just smile for me one more time sunshine."

You laugh at him, unsurprised at his ability to remain serious even in the most tragic of moments. Tears spill over and stream down to your neck, but you smile softly at him, nonetheless. Luke closes his eyes and takes his last breath in your arms, engulfed by your warmth.

[marimayscarlett]

Current fugure Richard.. I don't want to call him chubby because he's not, he just lost muscle mass and got rounder midsection.. anyway, he has absolutely no idea how hot his current body is.

Sure, he was absolutely stunning when he was ripped, but this so called dad bod.. unreal! Unreal!! It's such a fucking turn on when men, especially his age, look like that. Can you imagine sitting and bouncing on top of that? Jfc!!!

He is fit as fuck and everyone else is wrong! YOU HEAR ME KRUSPE? FIT AS FUCK!!!

Hi 😌

I really swear, even if it seems like it, I did not ghostwrite this post.... It would be futile to try to describe how much Richard is my type in his current state - I can hardly put into words how incredibly attractive his slightly more chunky physique is to me, and apparently some other people, too 👀 And he has offered us so many impecable looks in the past few years!

Such a transformation from a boyfriend material/90's dream boy:

to a well-trained dream of a silver god guitarist:

to a freaking vampire (I'm fine, I'm fine, it's not like this era is a fantasy come true to me, nope):

to an absolute picture book rockstar who is not afraid to flaunt his...all, actually:

to his current look, a little more on the ribs, wonderful voluptuous curves and yet incredibly masculine. While others may not relate to this sentiment, for me this is an absolute dream. I can't even describe it, he just looks so... kneadable, cuddly, yet so manly? Man, I don't even know:

He may not be as ripped anymore, and this is a good thing. Richard is pushing 60, it's only natural that his physique is undergoing changes. And yet he looks so incredibly attractive! I think there's also a lot of self-confidence involved and how he carries himself, to have this mesmerizing effect on us 😌 Regarding the 'fit' part: I think it's safe to say that Richard is still keeping fit with sport, yoga and similar activities, since for example going to the gym or running seems to be a vital part of his daily routine - at least he mentioned it in some interviews a few years ago (for example here and here).

Here I've answered another ask a while ago with a little closer look at Richard's 'evolution':

So in conclusion, me looking at Richard at all times, but especially in this current era:

[albertasunrise]

Oops Baby - Frankie's Girl

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2

You hated their happiness. 

You hated watching as the two of them seemed to fall madly in love with each other. All the while your realisation that you had, indeed, developed feelings for your best friend had kept you up at night. Your heart seemed to ache. Permanently. You had lost count of the number of nights you had cried yourself to sleep. 

So you distracted yourself in whatever ways you could. At almost seven months pregnant you were struggling more and more with day-to-day tasks. But with Frankie often distracted by his new girlfriend and Benny busy training for his upcoming fights. You often found yourself struggling on. You didn't want to be a bother to Will. He had enough on his plate so you did what you could. 

Ben took on the role of best friend as the weeks went by. Frankie did what he could. The nursery was almost finished. The furniture was built and the painting was done. All that was left to do was start unpacking the clothes and toys you'd been given at the shower Frank had thrown a few weeks after you'd learned you were having a girl. 

Ben was busy putting up some artwork you'd bought when you'd carried in two refreshing glasses of lemonade. Placing the beverages down, you rubbed your side, wincing at the stitch-like pain you'd been suffering all morning. 

"Everything okay?" Ben asked upon noticing your obvious discomfort. 

"Yeah... Just got a stitch or something." You groaned "Joys of carrying life inside of you." 

"You should go see a doctor." Said Ben as he hopped down from the stool he had been using a moment ago and helped you sit "Could be something else." 

"Ben, I'm fine." You grumbled but you didn't stop him from helping you to the seat Frank had ended up purchasing.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little concerned that this was something more sinister. The pain had been getting gradually worse over the course of the day. What had started as mild discomfort had started to take on a stabbing-like sensation. 

"Have you called Frank?" Ben asked and you shook your head.

"No." You panted as you tried to breathe through it "He's busy with Mary and I didn't want to worry him." 

"You're pregnant Titch!" Ben exclaimed, "You know he'll drop anything if you need him." 

"I know." You grumbled "But I don't want him to - AH - I don't want him to think I'm - Ahhh Ben it really hurts." 

"Right!" He piped up as he helped you to your feet "We're going to the hospital and I am going to call Fish on the way." 

...

Frankie watched as Mary puttered around the kitchen. He loved to watch her cook. It was something she was passionate about and the fact that she was excellent at it made it easy for him to let her spoil him. 

Lately, however, he felt his retched heart failure getting the better of him. He felt weak all the time. Very little energy to do anything more than sit on the couch with her each night. She didn't seem to mind the fact that he didn't feel up to sex all that much anymore. 

Despite Mary telling him he wasn't. He knew he'd put on weight. His soft stomach looked rounder. He'd put it down to how well she fed him. She was careful to make foods she knew wouldn't affect his condition. Something that he deeply appreciated. But boy did he miss steak. 

His phone ringing pulled him out of his thoughts and glancing down at it, Ben's face flashed on its screen. 

"Who is it, babe?" Mary asked as she looked up and smiled at him sweetly. 

"Just Ben." He replied, pushing himself to his feet. 

"You should answer it." She said softly "Could be important." 

"It's Ben." Frankie chuckled "Likely wants to boast about the latest bird he's pulled." 

"You sure?" 

"You told me you wanted me to be more focused on us when we're together." Frank replied as he cupped her cheek "I promised you I'd do that... Ben can wait." He finished as he put his phone on silent. 

...

"Goddamit Fish." Ben growled as his third attempt to reach the pilot went unanswered. 

"He's probably busy." You sighed as you gripped Ben's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

"Yeah well, he's about to become a father." Ben snapped "He shouldn't be ignoring his fucking phone." 

"Ben, you need to calm down." 

"Calm down?" He panted "You're suffering from stomach pain and your 7 months pregnant!" 

"Ben-"

"What if something's seriously wrong?" He shrieked "What if you-" 

"Don't finish that sentence." You warned and he sighed "I'm sure it's just because I've been overdoing it." 

"Titch..." Ben trailed off and you gave his hand another gentle squeeze. 

"We'll be fine

...

Frankie was pounding on your door. After dinner, he'd snuck a look at his phone and had seen the multitude of missed calls and texts from Ben. He didn't wait to be invited in when The younger Miller brother opened the door. 

"Where is she?" He asked as he pushed past his friend, eyes scanning your lounge. 

"She's in bed." Ben grumbled "Nice of you to show." 

"Ben!" Frankie warned but the younger Miller was having none of it.

"No, you don't get to talk to me like that Fish." He growled "She could have lost the baby whilst you were busy fucking Mary." 

"I wasn't-" 

"Doesn't matter what the fuck you were doing." Ben snapped "You can't go ignoring your phone when you're two months away from becoming a father. 

"I want to see her." 

"She's sleeping." 

"Please." Frank pleaded "I fucked up okay! I should have answered." 

"You're right." Benny growled but his features softened when he saw how wrecked the pilot then looked "She and the baby are gonna be fine. Just need to take it easy." 

Frankie nodded before allowing Ben to lead him to your room. You looked comfortable where you lay. Hand resting on your prominent bump as you smiled up at Ben as he appeared through the door. Your expression changed when Frank followed behind him. 

"Look who I tracked down." He chuckled as he stood aside so Frankie could make his way to your side "I'll leave you two to it." 

"Titch I'm-"

"It's fine Frankie." You interrupted "I know you were busy with Mary." 

"It's not okay." The man sobbed as he rested his hand on your belly "If something had happened to you both I'd never have forgiven myself." 

"Nothing did happen." You sighed as you gave him a weak smile. 

"Titch... You've got Pre-eclampsia." Your eyes dropped at the mention of the condition "From now on. You and the baby are my priority!" he stated matter of factly "I haven't been here for you and I should have been." 

"Frankie..."

"Don't argue with me Titch." He sighed "Please. I need to do this." 

You could only nod. Giving him a weak smile as you let your exhaustion take hold. 

You took things easy as the doctor had instructed. Ben and Frank wouldn't allow you to lift a finger. The two men waiting on you hand and foot as your pregnancy moved into its final month. You appreciated the help too. 

You struggled to get around most days. Your ankles were swollen and your back ached. You were miserable. But the boys made sure you were well taken care of. 

Things in Frank's personal life however had become strained. He was desperately trying to juggle his time between you and Mary. She had been understanding of your situation. Always making sure that he was fed and well-rested when he came home to her. The situation was taking its toll on him. His health took an obvious nosedive as the weeks went by. Mary found herself wrestling with her understanding that you were about to become parents and her concern for how your condition was affecting him. Yet she kept her mouth shut for Frankie's sake. 

"How are you feeling?" Ben asked as he passed Frankie the wrench the man required. 

"Been better but comes with the territory when you got heart failure." Frankie chortled.

"I meant about the baby." Ben said as his brows drew together "Only a few weeks to go and all." 

"Oh, right." Frankie replied, not lifting his head from under the bonnet of Ben's truck "Yeah, excited." He then stated as he stood to face the younger man "Can't believe I'm gonna have a daughter." He chuckled. 

"Everything okay?" Ben asked, his concern obvious "You been feeling okay?" 

"Just tired." Frankie said as he shrugged his shoulders "Meds might need tweakin'." 

Ben nodded, smiling when Frankie handed him the wrench back and asked for a different tool. The bonnet slamming shut made Benny jump and turn on his heels to see his friend sprawled on the ground. 

"Fish?" Benny called out as he dropped to his knees, frantically searching for a pulse "FISH?" He all but yelled when he found none. 

"HELP!" He yelled as he started compressions "MARY!" 

His calls were answered by a sob as Mary sprinted outside to see the blonde working on her lover. 

"What happened?" She sobbed and Ben just shook his head. 

"Call an ambulance!" He ordered and she nodded, wasting no time pulling out her cell phone and dialling for help. 

She was then at Frankie's side, holding his hand as she pleaded for him to come back to her. 

"Please don't do this to me, baby." She all but screamed as her fat tears streamed down her cheeks "Frankie... please!" 

The sound of sirens filled the air and in the blink of an eye, she and Ben were being pulled to one side as the EMTs took over. 

"No pulse." One stated as another strapped a mask over the pilot's mouth. 

Then his shirt was being cut away and two paddles were placed on his chest. The medics then shocking him until finally, his heart beat again. 

...

You rushed through the halls as your eyes frantically searched each sign for your destination. Then, just as you started to think you’d been sent the wrong way, you saw the dreaded words you were looking for. 

Cardiac Care Unit - CCU

When you’d receive the call from Ben to say Frank was here you’d almost fainted. His statement still echoed in your head as you rushed through the doors, eyes scanning for anyone that looked familiar. 

“Fish’s had a cardiac event.” 

What did that even mean? Had he had a heart attack? 

Was his condition getting worse? 

Finally, your eyes landed on Benny and you choked on a sob as you sprinted to him, hands cradling your small bump. 

“How is he?”

“Stable.” Ben replied, eyes brimming with unshed tears “His heart just fucking stopped.” Ben choked "One minute we were checking on something with my truck and the next he was on the ground..." 

"Benny..." You trailed off as you held him.

"He said he'd been feeling a little off lately but I didn't think-" 

"This is not your fault Ben." You stopped him in his tracks "Frank's heart's not been good for a while. But he's going to get the best care and he's going to be fine." 

Ben nodded. Knocking a few of those tears in his eyes loose before pulling you close again, gasping when he felt a kick against his stomach. 

"Did she?-"

"She's obviously saying hello to her uncle Ben." You chuckled as you smiled up at him. 

"Hey, lil' Titch." He said sweetly as he placed his hand over your bump, grinning when he was greeted by another kick. 

“What’s she doing here?” Piped up a new voice and your eyes drifted to Mary who was standing, glowering at you. 

“She is his friend.” You growled at her, feeling your blood boil at her eye roll. 

“She’s also carrying his child.” Ben growled out “She deserves to be here.” 

“If she's such a good friend, she would've noticed how sick he's been lately." Mary growled and your stomach dropped. 

"He has?" You all be whispered, eyes drifting to Ben whose head hung low "Why didn't anyone tell me?" 

"It shouldn't be everyone else's responsibility to tell you when someone's health is shit." She growled and Ben had had enough.

"Back off Mary." He growled out, his eyes dark as he glared at her "She's had her own shit going on and you know that."

She all but scoffed. 

"He wouldn't be here if she noticed he was struggling." She snapped and you sobbed, clutching your bump as your eyes flitted between you her and Ben. 

She was right. You hadn't noticed that Frankie's health had been declining and you hated yourself for that. You'd been so caught up in your own situation to see that Frankie, the father of the life inside of you, was suffering himself. 

"I'm so sorry." You choked as you looked at Mary with a wrecked expression. 

"Yeah well, you can tell that to him." She growls "If he lives." 

Next

Fic updates: @albertasunrise-ficsblog

Tags: @hayley-the-comet @ajeff855 @mavericksicybabe @supernaturalgirl20 @dihra-vesa @nicolethered @practicalghost @theanothersherlockian @gallowsjoker @little-mrs-morales @sunnshineeexoxo @aliwritesfic @maryfanson @sherala007 @ayrusss @greeneyedblondie44 @elegantduckturtle @jediknight122 @goodgriefitsawildworld @voteforpedro09 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @mishasminion360 @giggly-otter @athalien @mssbridgerton @huitzilinthebudgie3 @samanthacookieone @salome-c @radcollectivesoul @pedrohoe04 @paintlavillered @ktmadden86 @hotchlover @kirsteng42 @djjarins @balekanemohafe @misscampacyn

[onboardsorasora]

Max putting on a random f1 race because Daniel loves racing and not realizing that it’s from a season Daniel raced in so like maybe end of 2011

And baby Daniel is just like “is that me??” all wide eyed and shocked

Another pair that just proves that we all share the same brain and I love that for us!!!!

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | De-Aged Daniel Pt3 | De-Aged Daniel Pt 4 | De- Aged Daniel Pt 5 | De-Aged Daniel Part 6 | De-Aged Daniel Part 7 | De-Aged Daniel Part 8

“Do you want to watch a race?” Max looked over from where he was cutting bits of apples and watermelons into shapes. He remembered how much Luka and Lio enjoyed the snack. 

Little Daniel looked up from where he was colouring at the countertop– Max had worried it was too high but Little Daniel had begged to watch him and pinky promised to be still. So far he had been truthful. “Can we wash one of- of RedBull?” Little Daniel asked sweetly, his big eyes trained on Max’s.

Max bit back his smirk, satisfied that he had officially won the war against Ferrari. Little Daniel hadn’t wanted to take the race suit off and it took calling up Grace to get a promise out of him to wear other clothes. The other clothes in question ended up being versions of RedBull tshirts. Max wasn’t complaining, navy always looked good on Daniel.

“Of course we can.” Max cleaned up his workstation and lifted Little Daniel in his arms. Little Daniel clutched at his colouring supplies and giggled when Max made a show of slowly bending over to grab his fruits. 

They settled in front of the television, Little Daniel munched on his fruits and continued to colour his race car while Max chose a race for them to watch. 

Little Daniel watched rapt as the race started, before running around the living room– zooming and vrooming as he mimicked the cars going around the corners. There was a crash on the screen and Little Daniel gasped before covering his mouth.

“Oh!!!” He looked over at Max in shock, pointing to the chaos on the screen. “Maxy they cwash!”

“They did!” Max gasped exaggeratedly, watching as the marshalls pushed the cars off track. He remembered the race well, remembered how ready he was to get going again.

As Max anticipated, it was simply impossible to keep Little Daniel’s attention on the race for its entirety, so he helped him colour and gave him piggyback rides, pretending to be the RB19 flying past all the other cars on the grid.

Little Daniel giggled loudly, shrieking when Max started to spin after ‘clipping a barrier’. They played until Little Daniel yawned and fell asleep against Max’s side. Max tucked his hair behind his ears and let the commentary continue to wash over him.

Little Daniel awoke slowly, scrubbing at his eyes while he stretched.

“Would you like some water?” Max asked, looking over from his phone. He felt Little Daniel’s face brush his arm as he nodded.

“Yes pwease.” His accent was rounder while his tongue was heavy with sleep. Max made a soft noise before standing from the couch to get the requested water.

He walked back into the living room to see Little Daniel staring intently at the tv. The podium ceremony had started and Max watched as a younger version of himself and an older one of Daniel giggle with each other. He watched Little Daniel’s face to see if there was anything, any recognition.

“Maxy das you!” Little Daniel looked back at him, pointing to the screen excitedly and Young Max collected his P2 trophy. Little Daniel watched quietly as Older Daniel accepted his P1 and lifted it into the air, he bit his little palm.

“Whose that?” Max asked softly, pausing the screen on Older Daniel’s face. He knelt by the couch to be closer to Little Daniel’s eyeline.

“Das.. me?” Little Daniel asked barely looking away from the screen to look at Max who nodded. 

“That’s you.” Max confirmed. Little Daniel watched the screen a little bit longer and Max wondered what was going on in his head, he began twisting his hands together. “You won the race.”

“I won?” Little Daniel’s eyes widened impossibly, his mouth dropped open in shock.

“You were the fastest.” Max nodded, Little Daniel looked over at him in awe.

“I was da fastest.” His lips pulled backwards in a wide grin. “I WAS DA FASTESTS!” Little Daniel started zooming around the room, screaming his vrooming revs. Max grinned happily, there was no greater feeling than this.

[thommi-tomate]

People about Thomas

Karl H*inz Rummenigge:

When I was once asked who I would have tattooed as a Bayern player, I spontaneously replied: <<The Herrgottschnitzers from Oberammergau, and that would be Thomas Müller>>. Thomas comes from the Munich area, has come through all the youth ranks, grew up here and speaks to the fans from the heart, both on and off the pitch. Fans love identifying figures like him. We have to be grateful to Louis van Gaal for having the courage to trust him, that's what we want from a coach: to demand and promote talent. Müller meets and continues to meet all the requirements we want. Besides, I always say that he is one of the cheapest players in history. He never gets injured, you don't need a backup for him, and to be honest: he doesn't have a replacement either, because the way he plays is unique.

In my eyes, Thomas is on a par with club icons such as Franz Beckenbauer or Gerd Müller; after all, it is no coincidence that FC Bayern celebrated the most successful decade in the club's history with him. Thomas will never have anything to reproach himself for at the end of his career: because he always brought out 100% of his talent. Thomas is not only carved out of very good wood in terms of character; authentic craftsmanship made in Bavaria. He is a Bavarian icon the likes of which will never be seen again.

Manuel Neuer:

What makes Thomas special? He has the Bayern DNA inside him. He's a guy who always wants to win. I don't think I know of any player who is as ambitious as he is and who learns so much so quickly. No matter what style of play you put in front of him, he's able to do it in the blink of an eye. Thomas is simply a winner. You need players like that.

Thomas represents communication like nobody else. He keeps the guys on track by talking a lot on the pitch and thinking strategically, especially in terms of how we attack and defend together in attack. When we played without spectators during the coronavirus era, everyone in front of the TV realized how much Thomas communicates during a game. That was a very important factor, especially in the knockout games in Lisbon when we won the Champions League." In recent years, Thomas has also learned to listen more and more. He pays a lot of attention to others and accompanies them. He is very perceptive and knows how to respond well to his teammate.

Thomas is also synonymous with opportunism. He has a nose for the right areas and makes the right decisions. And he knows how to read the opposing goalkeeper. I always enjoy the challenges against him in training. Off the pitch, the two of us talk a lot about the things that are important at FC Bayern, the things that inspire us. He has his heart in his chest and always has his finger on the pulse. Thomas is very honest and straightforward. His Upper Bavarian mentality suits my Ruhr Valley mentality. Thomas represents an era at FC Bayern. We won the Champions League twice and eleven Bundesliga championships in a row. Without Thomas Müller, with his qualities as a player and his character, none of that would have been possible. That's why he has the highest status for me, not only at FC Bayern, but also with the German national team, with whom we became world champions together in 2014. There are hardly any players who come close to Thomas Müller.

Basically, I'm very happy to have played on a team with Thomas for so long. He always has a joke in his mouth and keeps everyone in a good mood. I think he's the player who has the most jokes memorized. He looks outlandish in some of the celebration photos and there are funny dances he does at title parties. I have many moments with him that I remember fondly, and I think there will be more in the future.

Robert Lewandowski:

Thomas fascinated me as an attacking partner in many respects. Above all, he is a perfect all-rounder. He talks for most of the game and gives orders. But his directions never distracted him from finding the optimal free space. That's something I've only seen in him, he's totally committed to the team. And even though he talks so much, we understood each other without words in decisive moments, which is another thing I really appreciate about Thomas: just one look, one movement, and the other player knows exactly what's going to happen.

When I think of our relationship, two words come to mind: unique and honest. He is the kind of teammate anyone would wish to have, who is also happy for his teammates from the bottom of his heart. I still remember the incredible game in which I scored five goals in nine minutes against Wolfsburg. When the game was over, I hadn't even realized what had just happened. Thomas came up to me and said: "You've just achieved something unique, people will still be talking about it in 20 years' time. Please enjoy it and celebrate it." And then he pushed me towards the Südkurve fans.

Speaking of celebrations: he can also go all out and set the mood. We celebrated one of his birthdays together at <<H'ugo's>>, and the evening was certainly one of my favorite "Müller moments>>. I wish Thomas that his intelligence and knowledge will become the foundation of his favorite club when his career is over. Because I am sure: FC Bayern is Thomas Müller's future - and Thomas Müller is FC Bayern's future.

[hotluncheddie]

sorry just one more thing 🫣 I've been obsessed with chubby but still athletic Steve.. like he's truly doughy and round and he still loves being outside and playing basketball and swimming and he likes it even more now in this powerful body that is so completely his ........ you are a repository for all my chubby Steve thoughts so please accept this humble offering.....

oh i am always obsessed with thick round buff chubby stocky strong steve!!!

[please i am so so happy to be your chubby steve repository! keep em comin! its so so fun to get so many chubby steve asks!!! also sorry this is just an series of ideas kinda lol]

i really like using hopper (s3 specifically barkbark) as like body inspo for steve. that strong solid build, broad shoulders, big arms, but always with a good layer of squish.

i think steves legs would be thicker though, and his belly a little bigger, a little rounder maybe. so imagine that for this post, for your lovely juicy anon prompt <3

very into him playing basketball and swimming again, especially if its with the other members of the party. i just love steve being happy, feeling strong and confident and in control of his body. and that vibe just making the people around him feel comfortable, feel safe. hes their big guy. still their protector but now it’s little things, normal life things, not like, monsters.

and eddie? oh eddie would love it.

[i was gonna use this scenario for a micro fic but i’m giving it to u bc i want him to be round and meaty :) ]

i just imagine steve turning his parents garage into a place to weight train. so when eddie comes over, sees the open garage door, music blasting, he’s treated to a sight.

steve in a t-shirt with the hem cut off like 3 inches and the sleeves gone. in gym shorts and tube socks and sneakers. belly hairy and round and out. arms pumping weights and eddie’s cant believe how fucking strong his boyfriend is, has gotten.

like steve on a workout bench, lifting the weights above his head. stomach muscles bunching, making the fat bounce. all of him a little sweaty, grunting with effort. eddie just stands and stares.

and then steve sits up from the workout bench, belly resting in his lap. smirking at eddie standing there frozen. steve stands and shakes out his arms, wiping a towel over his face and neck, down his chest and over his happy trail. then he says to give him a sec eddie ‘warm down stretches.’

and eddie has to watch his boyfriend lunge and bend. watch his ass jiggle and bunch. watch his belly do the same. eddie’s so red, he’s so hard in his jeans.

and then steve finally takes pity on him. closing the garage door and laying back down on the bench. letting eddie stand over him and finish because he can see eddie won’t take long, needs it. and it’s okay because steve knows they can go in and share a shower. and eddie can go again.

steve getting a second order of breakfast and slamming two milkshakes at the diner. talking about ‘bulking’ and how he ‘needs the protein. and like, eddie will agree that his muscles are bigger now. but so is his belly. not that eddie’s complaining, not at all, he honestly kind of thinks steve says those things just because it makes eddie blush. knowing how big he is, how strong, eddie likes seeing how much he can eat.

steve manhandling eddie’s in bed, like he can actually for real throw him around if he wanted. makes eddie’s kind of breathless to think about. they’ve tried so many different positions now that steve can hold eddie up. getting fucked against a wall, belly helping to hold him there. yeah, that was a good one.

but also the sweet lovely ability eddie still has, to just take steve apart. his big strong steve who he can still turn into a whining, writhing mess, just with a few words and soft touches. eddie loves it, it’s so so special.

kissing steves stretch marks. he has a few on his arms, his hips. one special one that stretches over his pec, that’s eddie favourite. steve was embarrassed about them but then eddie spent time cherishing them. and mentioned how steve already has scars, but he got these from being happy. so now sometimes robin has to beg steve to put a shirt on. and steve will, but he loves his new body. he’s proud of all his scars.

<3

(sorry this took a while anon, but please believe me i love getting chubby steve asks)

@scoops-aboy86 u might enjoy :)

[not-goldy]

can I ask you a question, now this is 4th time this week I'm seeing someone on ig claiming it was Tae who made BTS famous. But is it really? From what I'm seeing it's their songs and contents different from other kpop groups, amazing rapline which most kpop groups lack, JK being a terrific vocalist, JM being the best performer and being naked IT BOY, Joon speaking English to navigate through western interviews made them famous. So I don't see where Tae comes in this equation 🤔 If I have to choose 3 main members bts can't do without it will be Jimin, JK and Joon. Because imagine a concert one of them is not performing.. it will be disaster compared to Yoongi or Tae or Jin not performing.

This is both heartbreaking and intellectually stimulating. Let's get into it🤣

Performance wise, i don't think you can do without Hobi, JM, JK and Tae in my humble opinion. Especially in that particular order😩

To that end I'll distinguish between dancers and dance influencers. Hobi JM JK Tae are dancers but Hobi JM are the dance influencers. Their unique dance background influences and inspires the performances bts put out.

We can't compare mere dancers with dance artists I'm sorry. Tae Kook are great dancers but Hopemin are the dance artists of the group and without their input and vision and artistry BTS would be STB.

Vocal wise, you can't do without Jin, Hobi, Jimin and Tae💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀(in no particular order. I'll expatiate further on this hold on)

Visual wise, you can't do without all of them these days🥴

I mean exhibit A

Its embarrassing to say but- daddy pappito🥵🥵🥵🥵

Makes me want to crawl under his desk obediently🥴

But back in the day??????? Back in the day visuals was jx Jin, JM and may be Tae I'm sorry. Jm was half way in between boy, non-binary, and stud- thank God for their glow ups🤣🤣🤣🤣

I say JM was a visual because he looked more cut chiseled and met the ideal male body beauty standards which is why hybe constantly over sexualized him.

I recall Joon saying they all worked out thinking they were going to flaunt their bodies only to be told by the company JM was the only one who was going to display his body- even though he didn't want to and felt some way about it. Jin had the face, and broad shoulders, JM had the abs🥴

These days they are all visuals in their own right.

Jk is the vocal lead yes and carry most of their songs true.. but sometimes I feel Jin Hobi and Tae could easily replace him on most songs and they would be just fine😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

This is not to belittle his efforts contribution and talents at all. It's just sometimes I feel they share certain lines to certain members just so no one is left out but honestly sometimes they are just vocally redundant 🥴

Especially considering the genre of music they choose to make which really doesn't require diverse vocal ranges.

Tae does so well with low notes, Jimin and Jin do so well with higher notes. Jk cannot replace Tae or Jimin- he can do what they do, but sometimes even he complains he struggles with certain notes because if Jimin and Jin.

Tae has equally ever complained its hard to harmonize with Jm's high note.

I'm not playing favorites when I say, JM has one of the most unique voices in BTS. He and Tae to me have very different very unique vocal ranges so really they are core pillars of the group too. By that I mean we can't do without them. If this was a game, I wouldn't eliminate either one of them.

But of course, back in the day none of these members had developed their voices and talents. Jimin was but a rapper and hadn't spent much time training his voice to sing.

So within the context of their early days, JK was the vocal king of BTS which earned him lead.

Then there's Hobi and all rounder. Super underrated that one. He can sing sing, rap and dance and these days he's a visual- stage presence is impeccable, he's unproblematic, kind, generous- BTS 2.0 is going to be chaotic cos some of us are getting bias wrecked already🤣

Jk is an all rounder much like Hobi. Which means you either save him and eliminate all the others off the board or you can eliminate him and the others much like pawns will fit right into his shoes- and depending on their individual limits they can either become bishops but never Queens 🥴

Most times I feel wow, Hobi could easily double as a vocalist because he sings well, and he has a beautiful singing voice too.

So I place him on the same scale as JK😩

If I had to rank characters on the board, Hobi would be my Queen for Sure- chess reference if you play chess.

When I hear BTS, really I can't think of them as anything but 7 member group.

They will struggle without Suga's musical genius, without Hobi's dance mentorship, without Namjoon's leadership. So to me these three, Suga, Hobi, RM are quite fundamental to the day to day functioning of the group. Let's call them the core pillars of BTS.

These three alone however may not necessarily make for a global boyband on their own

For Tae, he was the fan recruit executive who could easily turn fans. He was likeable relatable, funny and a joy to watch- personally I'm trauma bonded to him especially after his Naana passed and the while hybe hiding him before debut bit🤧

As he matured he mastered the art of pleasing fans also. He knew very much what the audience wanted and he gave it to them- he's still good at giving it to them- my Fan service King🤭 Remember he kissed Jin and said he knew fans would love that? He knows us, he understands us, he's one of us 🥴

He was very popular among fans, even to this day on IG he has the biggest following out of all the boys and BTS back then was of the view putting him on thumbnails would yield high clicks. Joon ever said that to JK if I recall- unless the translations were off then🥴

BTS have a view it's Army that has made them, they rarely talk about their hard work and talents and how that is what has opened so many doors for them.

So when Joon talks about JM and Tae he's talking about in different senses I feel. For him, his talent and efforts inspired BTS to broaden their scope, take on certain songs and performances that shaped and defined them and got them their breakthrough.

Tae also helped build their fanbase and attract rabid loyal fans.

I feel that this discussion ought to be viewed in context- in the context of 7 boys from different backgrounds with varying strengths and weaknesses being held to different beauty standards.

I mean imagine hybe signing Jin on because he's beautiful- remember Joon told Jin he wanted to hear he's handsome from him because he is the most handsome out of the group?

Jin is the ideal Kdrama lead Character in kpop frfr however that's not what attracts people to him🥴

These boys, young insecure being told daily this person or that person ought to be center cos they look better than yall or they dance better than yall- you should understand how that shapes their understanding of what made them successful. But truth is they all had a part to play in their journey to success and none of them was dispensable.

For JM he's there because he's a unique dancer, yet vocally they didn't know where to place him. He wasn't even signed on to sing from the beginning but imagine if he hadn't decided to switch and just remained a rapper- hybe would have had to toss him out at some point for sheer lack of passion for rap🥴

If suga had stayed in his comfort zone and not danced......... that that I like that 😭😭😭😭

They've pushed their own limits, refined themselves, found their places in the group and I think they each bring so much to the table severally and jointly that it's impossible to attribute the success of the group to just one individual.

That said, I think for some members, their role in the group should never be understated. The dance directors Hobi, Jimin, the song producers (Suga, RM), and the social engineers (Tae, JM) whose love, kindness, patience, understanding and humanity kept them together for so many years as a group. Left to the ghetto ninjas like Jin and JK they wouldn't talk to eachother let alone vibe cos who has time to nurture relationships when they could be playing video games all day of their lives🥴

[thistledropkick]

zsj or io shirai for the wrestler ask?

I don't follow Stardom so I'll answer this for ZSJ!

Zack is one of my favorite wrestlers. I was introduced to him early in my NJPW viewing, and the first match of his that I ever saw was his match against Shibata when he turned heel and joined Suzuki Gun.

His matches are unique and fun to watch, his promos are unique and very good, he has great chemistry with a lot of other wrestlers who I love, and he's very engaging with both allies and opponents. He held such a special place within Suzuki Gun and truly expanded the range of the faction in a way that I don't think any other wrestler could have.

I have to admit though, that as he's rounded out his style and filled in some of the gaps in his wrestling approach, I've found his matches less engaging. I liked him better when he was a very unbalanced wrestler who could end a match at any time, but who could also get easily overwhelmed by strikes. It's not a bad thing that he's evolved as a wrestler over time, and I like the character growth he's gone through, but there was something uniquely engaging about his older work that I think has been lost in the process.

Zack makes me think of a quote from Suzuki that I think about a lot, from this article.

Suzuki: Why is Lance Archer popular? Why does Zack Sabre Junior have the support he does? Because there’s stuff they can’t do. Nobody in this goddamn business understands that. Wrestlers don’t understand that. Trainers, people teaching these kids don’t understand that for crying out loud!

–The system wants to create all rounders.

Suzuki: So the kids go in, and they train, and their trainers find what the gaps are in their games, and they try to fill those gaps right up. So you have this perfectly smooth, grey lump of boring trash. Fill in those holes on a wrestler and there’s no way in hell he’s filling seats with asses.

I think Suzuki's right, and I feel like as Zack has rounded out his style, he's lost some of what made his wrestling compelling to me personally as a result. I still really enjoy his work though, and he's still one of my favorite wrestlers. But if you haven't watched any of his earlier work from around when he first joined Suzuki Gun, I urge you to check it out.

[stylesunchained]

Everyone’s at the “just accept it says Olivia don’t be delusional” stage but as a damn calligrapher and tattoo artist I MUST BE HEARD

We have a weird angle, weird enough that the California colazione tat still seems inconclusive, but look at the FONT of the tattoo. If it does indeed say Olivia why are the two i’s so different? Look at their little swoop/scoop at the bottom and the sharpness of the angle. They don’t match. The first one is straight and sharp, the second rounder and smoother. (The second one actually matches the L more than anything.) Now that could be the photo quality and angle BUT the dot/squiggle on top of the second i is very distinct so why does the first I have no visible dot, even though it’s the one we can see more clearly.

If you ask me the second i is more likely to be a tall letter like an L or T or something, UNLESS that weird squiggle is actually just a birthmark and the artist or Harry didn’t really care or plan for it….or it doesn’t affect the letters up close.

Now take the middle letters alone. Cover up different parts of the word and you get all different letters. It could be an i and a v, or it could be an N or an M.

I’m not going to pretend I can decipher it perfectly, but our brains are trained by association so of course we’re going to think it says Olivia first. There’s a psychology term for it, association bias or something like that.

But again, it’s blurry and not a straight photo and birthmarks/freckles can affect how tats look from a distance. We’ve repeatedly established this boy gets the weirdest tattoos. So maybe it says Olmo, Italian for elm tree, or Olina, Italian for oil. There’s different languages too, some have suggested Hawaiian words and honestly whose to say this man didn’t have a great trip to the island or whatever. It could be olin’a , which is finish for I was. He has Arabic tattoos, French, Italian…. I wouldn’t put anything past him

Call me delulu but i think it’s far more likely we’re all collectively assuming something about a blurry photo than it is likely that this man would have an Olivia tattoo in summer 2023- you really think he hasn’t had time to get it removed or covered up or that he’s still so in love with a woman he could never publicly call his girlfriend or stand by when shit hit the fan at the DWD premiere

People are freaking out but I purposefully stayed away from here today because, as I said earlier, I don’t think there’s reason to lose your minds over this.

Like you mentioned, it’s still a blurry picture and you can’t actually make out what it says. People are completely ignoring how what’s supposed to be the “ia” on the end of the word looks like something else completely. There is absolutely zero reason why he’d get this tattooed on him other than it’s someone else or his sister’s cat who died last year. He couldn’t even acknowledge “the relationship” publicly, why would he get her name tattooed on him?

I know people WANT to cry about it cause they’re angry at him for everything in the past two and a half, almost three years, but that shit is over, they’re not “coming back together” and that tattoo does not say her name. We thought Colazione was California for YEARS and we’ve just been proven wrong. His knee tattoos? We STILL don’t know what they say. It’s genuinely impossible to tell but people are already bored and desperate for a story.

The day I see a 4K picture of his thigh up close, I’ll say it’s this or that. Until then, I’m not stressing about it and nobody else should. And like you said, there are PLENTY of inconsistencies that people are just ignoring for the sake of allowing themselves to lose their minds. The man is a little stupid but I would hope he’s not THAT stupid.

[deepdowninmybones]

CtM Fanfic

Everything is just as ought to be

(Have a nice weekend you all!)

Chapter 3 - The Good Doctor

Late October - 14 weeks

Taking advantage of the end of the first block of lessons, Timothy decided to go home for a few days and spend some time with his family.

He would have followed his father at work, which usually meant learning more medical knowledge than he could in a week of school, he would enjoy playing with his brother and sisters and last, but not least, he would be spoiled by his mother and spent some precious time with her.

The decision had been sudden, he tried to call home the previous afternoon but no one answered. In all likelihood they were at work, never mind! He would have given them a nice surprise!

He left at dawn and after the train journey, he was greeted by the London rain.

Some bus later, he was finally at the front door of their house, cold and hungry as usual. He was confident that a nice warm shower and something to eat (he trusted in some leftovers from the fridge) would make him feel better again. At that time his mother was certainly at the Maternity Home, he couldn't expect much more.

He entered the house, took off his raincoat and left his things in the laundry room where the washing machine was running. Why is running if no one's at home?

He immediately noticed something else weird: there were partially sliced vegetables on the counter and the sliding door was open. Someone was definitely at home.

"Is anybody there?" he tried to call. No answer.

Chilled, he closed the window and then headed towards the kitchen where there was a teapot with some still steaming tea on the stove. Just what I need! He thought, pouring himself a cup. In the corner of the kitchen counter, he noticed a pack of iron tablets.

As he sipped his tea, pondering why anyone would need iron supplements, he saw two feet descending the stairs and his mother's figure looming with each step.

"Mum!" he exclaimed in surprise.

"Tim! What are you doing here?!"

He went towards her for a hug.

"I had a few days off and I thought to come check on you…but I didn't think to find you here!"

"Well" she blushed "I had a lot of things to do and…I stayed home"

To Timothy it sounded like an excuse. Weird…again.

"Mom, is there anything I can eat? I'm starving! Leftovers will be perfect!".

"Oh dear, I'll make you some toast right away! Please sit and make yourself comfortable! I guess you must be tired!"

"Just a bit."

Timothy sat down and while he waited, he was captured by watching his mother make that sandwich with all her love and care. Yes! I'm home, he thought.

His mother was radiant today and had a particularly bright smile. He realized that she seemed somehow different: the line of her hips was rounder, softer. He thought it should be a change due to age… she isn't so young anymore after all.

When she turned, his eyes fell on other details…her belly was slightly rounded too, advancing age side effects supposed. But when she handed him the plate with his toast, he found himself with her clearly enlarged breasts at his eyes level… and that, he knew, had nothing to do with the physiological changes due to age.

He paused for a moment before taking the dish, hit by a brainstorm: breast enlargement, rounded hips, rounded belly, iron tablets (for anemia), she's not at work…oh goodness… it can't be that!

"Timothy?!" his mother called him "I asked if you wanted some orange juice!"

"Sorry mom, yes please…orange juice is perfect"

He just saw her turn around to open the fridge, when she swayed a little before grabbing onto the kitchen counter. Without hesitation, he quickly stood up to hold and support her. He added dizziness to his list and easily summed things up.

"It's nothing Timmy, I just lost balance…"

"Yes, sure…come on mom, I'll take you to the settee."

"It's not necessary, really. I am fine!" she replied stubbornly.

"Mom! I know you're fine but I also know that it's better if you lie down now and rest. In your condition, rest is recommended" he told her firmly as he helped her lay down.

His mother's eyes looked at him in amazement. He smiled, and tenderly kissed her cheek, then took a seat next to her.

"How do you know? Did your father tell you?"

"No, don't worry… dad didn't say a thing. But you asking…? You've just confirmed my suspicions!"

"But how did you get it? Is it that clear?"

"You're more…well mom…there's more of you. But the very first reason is that I'm a very promising medical student!" he replied beaming.

She smiled too. It was true, he was very promising. He would become a very good doctor soon.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this. We didn't want to give you the news over the phone, your father and I wanted to wait until you were home and do it together."

"But I messed up your plans!"

"And you're not the only one as you can see. Oh Tim…we really don't know how this happened…"

At those words, Timothy started chuckling.

"Why are you laughing now?"

"Well, a doctor and a midwife who don't know how this can happen…it's pretty fun! I always told you to be careful with all your mushy-stuff"

She was giggling too now, after all Timothy wasn't entirely wrong.

"Mom, I've always teased you about this but the truth is that I'm glad for it"

"Oh dearest…" she took his hand.

"You know… almost all my friends live very different situations at home. They come from families in which there is no dialogue, there is no love. And this also affects their lives."

"Oh Timothy…it's not easy sometimes."

"That's the point mom… it's not been easy for you as well, but you two make it work! And I believe that is a credit of what there is between you and dad. The love, the respect and the trust that exists between you two is something special… and we have grown within it, feeling loved and protected. And so it will be for him…or her…as it is for me, Angela, Teddy and May."

Turning towards his mother, he noticed that her face was streaked with tears.

"I didn't mean to have this effect on you…"

"It's a beautiful effect. Even if this makes me realize that you are really an adult now."

"That's why you're replacing me with Number Five?" joked Timothy.

"Timothy, don't say that! Nobody is replacing you! It doesn't matter how many children a mother may have, nor how old they are… each one is unique and special and in the eyes of a mother they will always be little children."

"I will allow you to still consider me your little child…but don't tell dad!"

They recognized the sound of Patrick's car parking in the driveway. The kids were home again and Timothy helped his mother slowly sit up on the couch before they entered. He hadn't asked but it was pretty obvious that his little brothers weren't still aware of the new baby.

They heard Patrick saying from outside "If you tidy your rooms, you can watch some telly" and just a few seconds later the door slammed, the three kids darted one after the other up the stairs saying "Hello mummy!".

Closing the door, Patrick announced "We are at home, darling!"

"So am I!"

"Timothy?! What a surprise!" exclaimed Patrick, side-looking at his wife.

Tim enjoyed observing the glances that his father tried to give his wife to understand if the secret was already revealed. She silently answered simply smiling and nodding. He was amused, but also fascinated by the ability his parents had to communicate even without words.

"When did you arrive?"

"Just after lunch… Well…dad" he made sure to remark that word "I think I'm going upstairs now to say hello to the kids and take a shower. I know you two need to have a talk…"

While the children upstairs celebrated Tim's return, Patrick joined Shelagh on the sofa. They looked at each other smiling.

"So you told him?"

"He actually figured it out on his own…"

"And how did he do it?"

"He says there's more of me…I didn't think I was showing already."

Patrick grinned, rested his eyes on his wife's breasts pretending to control and traced her new shape with a finger.

"So it seems…"

"Patrick!"

"What? I was just doing a quick check!"

"Is this really the moment…?"

"Clinical purpose only, I'm a doctor!…but maybe I will continue my inspection later with more personal aims"

To prevent Shelagh from arguing, he placed his lips to kiss her tenderly. They broke the kiss before it could go beyond the definition of amorous effusion.

Patrick helped her get up from the sofa and said "Come on Mrs Turner, one is down…the rest of the world's to go!".