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dirtyvulture · 6 months

Text

Envy and Venom

Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.

Word count: 4190

AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)

DAY 1

“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world.

“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear.

“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more.

Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more.

“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”

***********************************************************************

Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after.

The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company.

“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”

“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.

“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.

“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”

“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.

“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”

“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about.

Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel.

You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.

“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”

“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”

“I bet.”

“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).

“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”

You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”

***********************************************************************

You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes.

“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.

“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.

“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”

“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about.

“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”

“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.”

Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.

“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve.

“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”

“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch.

Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.

“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”

“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.

***********************************************************************

Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy.

You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough.

“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”

Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.

You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.

“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her.

“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks.

“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”

It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.”

She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest.

“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds.

“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha.

She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”

Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her.

“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.

You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it.

“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.

“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”

“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs.

“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.

“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts.

“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers.

“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.

“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”

Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.

Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before.

“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her.

“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.

You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir.

“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.

Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.

“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…”

She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.

“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.

“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.

Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.

There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.

“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.

***********************************************************************

The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.

You were too easy.

When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.

As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.

After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.

Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.

***********************************************************************

DAY 2

When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.

From Tony: You fucked up, dude.

He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:

New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff

Everything clicks to you now.

“Oh, fuck.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Click here for Part 2!

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#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

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transform4u · 2 months

Note

woke up this morning and found my laptop hacked and a new file on the screen that reads americanfratbro.mp3. what does it mean?

It’s late, the kind of night where the only light in your room comes from the harsh glow of your computer screen. You're hunched over your desk, eyes straining to decipher the tangled web of quantum mechanics sprawled before you. The numbers and equations seem to mock you, their complexity a maddening puzzle you can’t quite solve.

Then, without warning, your focus shifts to a file on your screen labeled “americanfratbro.mp3.” Curiosity gets the better of you, and you haphazardly click on it. The instant the file opens, your screen is overtaken by a barrage of images: frothy beers, a frenetic football game, and the American flag waving triumphantly. Words flash by, dancing across the screen: “Bro Time!” “Victory!” “Let’s Go!”

Your frustration boils over. “Damn it!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down so you don’t wake your roommate. You fumble with the laptop, attempting to close it, but in your panic, you knock over a can of beer that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “FuuuuuUUUcCCk!” you exclaim, your voice now a deep rumble that echoes through the room. You realize too late that you’ve probably woken your roommate.

As the beer spills, it drips down your clothes, and wherever the beer touches, your skin darkens to a rich tan. You’re momentarily entranced by the sight. The smell of the beer grows stronger, and it’s intoxicatingly sweet. Without a second thought, you grab the can and take a swig.

The cold liquid hits your tongue, and as you drink, your mind starts to unravel. The facts and figures you’ve spent so long trying to master begin to dissolve, slipping away from your consciousness. Friendships, math classes, and even your love for literature—everything is erased in the face of this new sensation. Your head throbs with each heartbeat, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

Your laptop is still open, and the voice from the screen now blares with a gruff authority: “No mercy, no excuses!” “Show up and dominate!” The words resonate through your foggy mind, pushing you further into a trance. You’re slack-jawed and disoriented, your brain struggling to keep up with the overwhelming shift. Your world narrows down to the pulsating rhythm of the voice and the beer’s lingering flavor, erasing everything that once mattered to you.

As you sit there, reeling from the spilled beer and its bewildering effects, your laptop screen erupts into a sensory overload of indulgence. The screen blares at you with relentless enthusiasm, showcasing phrases like “Bro, it’s all about living life to the fullest!” and “You only live once—so why not go big or go home?” The words are punctuated by relentless reminders to “Flex on ‘em, dude!” and “Crush it, bro! Winners never quit!” The once-muted tones of your academic pursuits are drowned out by this cacophony of superficial triumph.

Images flash before your eyes with a dazzling, almost hypnotic rhythm: a group of impossibly buff men in bright pastel polos, their muscles bulging as they flex in front of a luxury yacht; a gleaming white Tesla parked in a driveway that could rival a country club's manicured perfection; a raucous pool party where designer swim trunks, oversized sunglasses, and bottles of high-end champagne are de rigueur; and a pristine country club, where elegantly dressed individuals sip cocktails with the grace of the effortlessly affluent.

Each phrase and image seems to wrap around you, enveloping you in a new persona. You feel the shift in your mindset as you’re bathed in a wave of entitlement and self-assuredness. You begin to imagine yourself in the latest designer polo shirt, your teeth dazzlingly white and a smirk permanently plastered on your face. The world of academic diligence fades into the background, eclipsed by the blaring confidence and superficiality of a life steeped in privilege.

Thoughts begin to twist and turn in your newly altered mindset. “Why bother with all this intellectual stuff?” you think. “Life’s about having fun and showing off!” A surge of superiority pulses through you, and you imagine yourself as the undeniable center of attention in every room you enter. Conversations that once revolved around ideas and learning now revolve around the latest trends, gym routines, and anecdotes of your superior lifestyle. Your world narrows to a self-important lens where your opinions are the only ones that matter, and everyone else becomes mere background noise.

Empathy and humility are replaced by a sharp, unshakable belief in your own superiority. Your wardrobe now resembles a shrine to preppy excess—khaki shorts that could double as sailboat uniforms, ostentatious polo shirts, and boat shoes polished to perfection. You navigate life with a blend of casual arrogance and an insatiable need for validation. In conversations, you dismiss any differing opinions with a wave of your hand, certain that your views, shaped by fleeting trends and superficial judgments, are the only ones worth considering. The concept of understanding others or stepping outside your own privilege is foreign to you; instead, you revel in adulation and assertiveness, basking in the relentless glow of your self-importance.

As you gaze into the computer screen, the reflection staring back at you is a stark contrast to the image you crave. The figure that meets your eyes is weak, pallid, and painfully ordinary—a far cry from the confident, muscular ideal you once envisioned. The sight of yourself, so far removed from the idealized version, ignites a surge of frustration. In a fit of rage, you crush the beer can against your forehead. The impact sends a jolt through your body, like an electric shock coursing through your veins. The pain is sharp, almost liberating, as if it’s tearing down the last remnants of the persona you never truly embodied.

Slowly, your physique begins to morph, each muscle gradually reshaping itself into a meticulously crafted shrine to vanity and privilege. As you watch, your body transforms into a physical testament to a life lived in the gym, not the real world. Your abs become chiseled to an absurd degree, sculpted through endless crunches and protein shakes. They’re so pronounced they almost seem to sneer at those who haven’t shared your genetic fortune or gym membership. The six-pack, impossibly defined, stands as a monument to superficial dedication rather than genuine commitment.

Your biceps swell with impressive size, though they’re less a sign of true strength and more a product of relentless curls and flexing. The veins bulge beneath your skin, perpetually in a state of flexing, as if they were designed to showcase your hard work rather than any real substance.

Yet, beneath this glossy exterior lies a troubling reality. You smell of stale sweat and cheap cologne, a potent blend that hints at rigorous workouts paired with an equally rigorous disregard for personal hygiene. The scent clings to you like an unwelcome guest, blending with the overpowering aroma of your latest designer fragrance—an ill-advised attempt to mask the musk of neglect.

Your clothes, while always styled to perfection, are a gaudy celebration of preppy excess. Your polo shirts, in blindingly bright colors or adorned with ostentatious logos, cling to your physique like a second skin, revealing every bulging muscle and uneven tan line. Your khaki shorts are tailored just short enough to flaunt your tanned, muscular legs, and they’re paired with boat shoes polished to a high gloss, though they rarely see a boat's deck.

The entire ensemble is designed not just to impress but to scream your superior status. Your wardrobe—Ralph Lauren polos, Vineyard Vines shorts—is as much a statement as it is a testament to preppy fashion standards. Each stitch and seam shouts privilege and entitlement, reflecting a carefully curated image of superiority.

As you glance at your phone, the message from an unknown number lights up the screen: “Sup bro? Party at Delta Nu—they’ve got the hottest chicks.” Your pulse quickens with excitement.

Suddenly, you feel an overwhelming sense of confusion wash over you. You weren't into chicks. You were stricly dickly, men's bodies were---uhhh-hahahaha---BURRRRP--- You can't believe what just happened - did you really just think that? Chicks were fucking hot! It's not like you didn't know it before, but something in your mind had convinced itself otherwise.

With a dumb laugh escaping your lips, the realization hits you hard: You aren't gay. And that makes everything so much simpler and clearer now. But wait… why did you even think that? Why did this weird thought even cross your mind? As these questions swirl around in your head, a sense of dumbness begins to creep up on you - like someone is slowly turning down the lights on all the intelligence stored inside of yours.

Striding across campus, your swagger is undeniable. You move with a sense of purpose, each step radiating confidence and a newfound arrogance. The usual scenery of academic buildings and quiet green spaces gives way to the pulsing beat of fraternity life.

With each step, a series of memories begins to unfurl in your mind, vivid and intoxicating. You recall a particular evening from your past—the memory is sharp and clear: a grand party at the Omega Theta house, a night where the air was thick with arrogance and entitlement. The dimly lit room was drenched in the erratic glow of strobe lights, casting unpredictable shadows on the walls. The relentless barrage of music was a mix of the latest hits and classic party anthems.

You were the center of it all, confidently navigating the crowd with a drink in hand and a smug smile on your face. The crowd parted as you approached, eager to bask in the light of your self-proclaimed superiority. You recall holding court near the keg, regaling your bros with tales of your latest conquests and extravagant purchases. Dressed in an outrageously bright polo shirt, its ostentatious logo a symbol of your high status, the shirt clung to your perfectly sculpted physique, each muscle on display as you gesticulated grandly with your free hand, the other wrapped around a red solo cup filled with cheap beer.

As you approach the Delta Nu house, your demeanor grows more self-assured, and a trace of condescension colors your interactions. You brush past students with a dismissive nod, their pleasantries falling on deaf ears.

The Delta Nu house looms ahead, a beacon of neon lights and boisterous noise. You push through the front door, immediately engulfed in a sea of loud music and the throbbing bass of a party in full swing. The room is packed with people, their voices blending into a cacophony of laughter and chatter. The air is thick with the mingling scents of cheap beer and heavy cologne.

Your gaze sweeps the room, taking in the scene with a mix of superiority and disdain. A group of your bros are huddled near the keg, their conversations punctuated with exaggerated gestures and loud laughs. “Bro, you made it!” one of them shouts, slapping you on the back with a force that nearly knocks you off balance. You respond with a broad smile and a dismissive wave, clearly the center of attention in this crowd.

The party is a parade of excess—red solo cups littered everywhere, music blasting from massive speakers, and people dancing in a manner that suggests they’ve completely let go of any pretense. Your attitude shifts from aloof to downright rude, as you elbow your way through the crowd, cutting in front of people without a second thought.

Your eyes settle on a chick across the room, her presence standing out amidst the chaos. She’s dressed in a sleek, figure-hugging outfit that exudes effortless style. You can’t help but feel a sense of entitlement as you approach her. “Hey, what’s up?” you say, your tone dripping with casual arrogance. “You enjoying the party or what?”

She looks up, slightly taken aback by your brashness, but you’re already too wrapped up in your own self-importance to notice. Your conversation, if it can be called that, is filled with vacuous comments and self-aggrandizing remarks. “Yeah, I know. I’m like, totally the man around here. Just came to have some fun, you know?”

As the night progresses, you continue to revel in the party, your demeanor growing increasingly entitled and superficial. Every interaction, every glance, is laced with a sense of superiority. You’re not just at the party; you’re the life of it, an embodiment of the frat-bro stereotype. The world beyond this raucous, beer-soaked haven seems distant and irrelevant, replaced by a relentless pursuit of immediate gratification and validation. You and your bros are at it again, playing beer pong with reckless abandon. The room is filled with the sound of laughter, cheers, and clinking glasses as you take shot after shot. You're acting like the entitled tool that you are - farting loudly whenever you feel like it, burping without a care in the world, and pulling off all sorts of pranks on unsuspecting victims.

The smell of beer lingers around you like a second skin; it's almost as if someone has doused you in it from head to toe. And even though this morning started out bright and early with a hangover that could rival any heavyweight champion's, here we are again - drunk off our asses and loving every minute of it! Your friends high-five each other when they see how far their little prank went tonight; meanwhile, everyone else at the party just shakes their heads in disbelief at how much fun (or trouble) one group can cause.

Your eyes lock onto her as she walks into the room, and you can't help but let out a low whistle. She's hot - really fucking hot! Her body is on full display in that tight little dress she's wearing, showing off every curve and line to perfection.

You approach her confidently, mansplaining something about beer pong or sports or whatever comes to mind first. She listens politely at first before rolling her eyes at your obnoxiousness. But hey, that just makes you want her more! You grab her ass without hesitation and pull her close for a passionate kiss - one that leaves no doubt about who's in charge here tonight.

You're flirting with her like there's no tomorrow, your drunken confidence reaching new heights. You flex your muscles for her, showing off how strong and manly you are. Then, you pull out your phone and start scrolling through pictures of yourself - posing in front of expensive cars or holding up wads of cash like it's nothing.

"Look at this," you slur as you hand her the phone. "I got money coming outta my ass! And I know how to treat a woman right." She laughs at first but then seems to soften when she sees the genuine desire in your eyes. "I want you so bad," you say without hesitation, grabbing her hand and leading her towards one of the bedrooms.

You push her onto the couch and start fucking her without any pretense of gentleness. She moans your name as you thrust into her, "Sebastian, you big fucking idiot" in between breathless gasps.

Your bros are all watching from outside the door, laughing their asses off at this dumb slut you're banging. Life as a dumbass American frat bro couldn't get any better than this! You tear off what remains of her clothes, eager to feel every inch of skin against yours. She screams out your name again - "Oh Seb!" - as she climaxes around you.

#gay to straight #male tf #douchebag tf #nerd to jock tf #jock tf #dumber #transformation #ask #Preppy tf #gay to straight tf

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togetherhearted · 8 months

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Could I request Nikola, Qin Shi Huang and Hades with a s/o that's from another universe :D? she can travel through universes and can collect the history of the universe in her books/scrolls and write something to change it and erase things to remove them from history/the future

Sorry if this requests is kinda cringey, but I'm sort of a nerd for space :)

Naaaah,you're not cringe come on! It's a love that you have. Nothing wrong with it!

I took some freedom to change a couple of things. But the core is the same. Hoping it's still ok

NIKOLA,QIN AND HADES WITH A UNIVERSE TRAVELER S/O

Nothing was better that landing inside what it looked like a lab. Your eyes scanned projects, blackboards, all full of formulas. The twinkle in your eyes brightening up at all you could take with yourself. It was time to hide though, footsteps echoed in the corridor. You flinched and tried to hide in time but those steps were fast to come. The door slammed open and you were caught;projects under your arms. There was silence between the two of you. tThe tall man noticed the warp behind you, then looked better at you, at what you were wearing. -Are you perhaps?- He started -F-from the future?!- He shouted with enthusiasm. -I..uhhh- -Oh no, no. Don't tell me. I'll figure it out!- You watched him circling you, a smile on his face, muttering about science. Was this the sign to flee? As he kept circling around you you smiled amused;no matter the universe Nikola Tesla was Nikola Tesla,your over excited lover.

Where did you land this time? Judging by how comfy you were it was probably a cushion;no wait,too big to be just pillows. As per always you didn't recognize the place, warping from the past to future and vice versa was still troublesomea nd let's not talk about universes jumps. You hopped from what happened to be a bed; your figure searching for something to take away with you. Though your lookout was stopped once you heard a male voice from behind. -Looking for something?- Your head snapped at the young man. The blood washing away your face as you recognized the first China emperor. -Oh no no...I was...- Words died in your throat as he walked towards you with confident steps. He didn't seem that pleased to have visitors. Only one solution was possible;warping again but this time without a single piece of paper. Mission failed. Time to go to the Qin of your universe.

Another day, another jump between the fabric of times and reality. Where were you this time?And why did it look so dark? Luckily you always had a backup plan. You lit up a light and walked down a narrowed corridor. You entered a room. A man was hunched on a desk,his mind seemingly too focused on what he had under his nose to even notice your entrance. This was risky but you liked the risk and your mission was worth it. You took little steps towards the pile of books on the corner. You just had to take a look at the covers, grab one and warp away. You were now close enough to read the titles when a hand grabbed your wrist. -So, you wanted to steal from the king of the underworld...- His deep voice gave you the chills. That was the place you warped in;Hades domain and he didn't look happy to see you,of course he wasn't;he wasn't your lover here. You were in big trouble now.

#x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no Valkirye #shuumatsu no Valkirye x reader #snv #snv x reader #ror #ror x reader #qin shi huang #qin shi huang x reader #nikola tesla #nikola tesla x reader #hades #hades x reader

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marlsswrites · 3 months

Text

June 28th <3

Lawyer - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1124

Most people say getting into a car with Barty Crouch Jr was a horrible idea, a death wish. God knows how Barty even got his license, Regulus doesn’t even remember him taking the test.

But he was in dire need for a lift to work, and of course all of his mentally stable friends were busy. So who did he get stuck with? Barty.

He drives like a fucking child on Mario cart, Regulus is sure that video came was the only driving training that boy ever got. He’s quite literally a maniac. The car scoots to the left, to the right, it jolts, it speeds up. The amount of dents and scratches Barty’s car has is horrific, his dad should not have bought him a Tesla, anyone should know that this is what happens when you give Barty control of a car.

That’s why Regulus was rather surprised when they were driving down a quaint little street, Barty had managed to not hit anyone’s pet cat yet which was a good sign, and it was as steady as Barty could get behind a wheel.

“Surprisingly, this doesn’t feel like a rollercoaster. Well done Barty.” Regulus snorted. “It’s a miracle you haven’t hit anyone yet.”

“I’m not that bad, Reggie.” Barty spoke as he turned to the side to give Regulus an unimpressed look, taking both of his hands off the to flip him the middle finger for way too long to be safe.

That’s when Barty’s car slipped to the side, and a loud thump echoed from outside the car.

Barty instantly pulled the brake and gaped at the windshield. “Fuck!”

“Shit, BARTY!” Regulus hissed as he undid his seatbelt to go and see who they hit and how bad it was, shortly followed by Barty.

He was greeted with the sight of a tan man, with messy hair and a red Liverpool football shirt on. There was a bike hung over his leg and he looked unconscious, Regulus hoped it wasn’t any worse than that.

Barty gasped next to him and shook his shoulders. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Is he dead? We’re gonna need a lawyer!” He screeched.

“There’s no we in this situation, you were the one driving!”

“You insulted me! That’s distracting!”

“We need to get him to the hospital.” Regulus spoke after a few deep breaths and rants from Barty about being ‘too mean that it kills people.’

“How?” Barty squeaked.

“Uh-“

So that is how Regulus found himself slouched down in an uncomfortable hospital chair, unsure of what to do and how he ended up taking a stranger whose name he didn’t even know to the hospital.

“Hi I’m Doctor Lupin-“ The doctor started as he walked into the room, greeting both Barty and Regulus with a nod. “James?” He gaped as he looked at the man on the hospital bed, he watched Barty shrink further into the chair as the doctor looked back to them both. “What happened?”

“Well-“ Regulus started with a sigh.

“-He fell off his bike.” Barty finished for him. “Looked pretty bad, think he hit his head.” He carried on, nodding his head sympathetically, completely adamant to Regulus’ harsh glares. “We took him here, seemed like the right thing to do. Right Reg?”

Regulus gave a defeated look and nodded alongside Barty. “Yep.” He sighed.

Doctor Lupin nodded, walking over to the bed to do some checks on the man they hit, named James apparently.

“He should be awake within the next hour. Could one of you watch him, tell him Remus will come talk to him soon? I would stay, but I’ve got other patients.” Doctor Lupin asked.

Regulus felt bad enough as it is, and he’s technically not even the one who hit him with a car. He did lie about it though, ah well, what’s another scratch on his already shitty consciousness?

“Yeah, of course.”

“Great, call me over when he wakes up.” And with that Doctor Lupin left, leaving Regulus and Barty alone at the strangers bedside.

Barty stared at the man for a while longer, then looked to Regulus. “He’s really your type, you know?” He said as he pointed his head towards the sleeping man.

“Barty, he’s literally unconscious.” Regulus hissed in return.

“But you think he’s cute?”

“Might be… mildly attractive.” Regulus shrugged. “But don’t be a weirdo, we don’t know him.”

Pointing a finger at him and gasping, Barty smiled triumphantly. “He admits it!”

After ten minutes of waiting, the two decided to come up with a life story for this cute random man.

“He looks our age, so a uni student.” Barty pointed out.

“He’s studying creative writing but plays football on the side.” Regulus thought back to his red Liverpool shirt.

Barty hummed in agreement. “Definitely a trust fund baby.”

“Only child.” Regulus added.

“Probably has nice parents.” Barty commented.

“Unlike us.” The two said at the same time with a snort.

Stopping to think about his next response, Barty did the same. “Has a perfect, farm girl type girlfriend.”

Barty let out a laugh. “Bingo.”

Regulus snapped his head to the side at the sound of a yawn and shuffle. “Actually we broke up last month, turns out she likes girls. You got the rest pretty spot on though.” He said with a casual smile and then paused with a short blink. “Wait, who are you?”

“That idiot hit you with a car.” Regulus pointed at Barty.

“Reg! You’re not supposed to say that.” He hissed in a slightly too loud whisper. “Don’t sue us.” Barty said with a sheepish smile.

The man sat in shock while the two bickered. “Us? You hit him! I was an innocent bystander, nothing more.” Regulus retorted.

Raising his hands in surrender, the man on the bed let out a soft laugh. It was a lovely laugh, Regulus felt the heat rising to his cheeks. Fucks sake, he didn’t even know the man and it already felt like the sun was beating down on him when he smiled. “I won’t sue you, it doesn’t seem that bad honestly, I think I just passed out and got a few bruises.”

“Really?” Regulus and Barty spoke at once.

“Actually I will sue you.” James smirked, placing his head on the palm of his hand and looking straight at Regulus with his gorgeous, hazel, wide, doe eyes. “For your number.”

He heard Barty choke out a shocked laugh next to him as he felt his eyebrows raise in shock, the already obvious flush on his once pale cheeks reddening even more.

“I’m James by the way.” The brunette grinned.

Regulus smiled fondly and nodded, a loose Black curl falling in front of his grey eyes as he did so. “Regulus.”

#james potter #james x regulus #jegulus #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #marauders #regulus black #regulus x james #sunseeker #the marauders era #barty crouch jr #writers on tumblr #tumblr fyp

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guitar-hero-stuff · 2 years

Photo

They really changed huh

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emilu-p · 2 years

Text

I photoshopped everyone concept art together!

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

Note

Nico Robin!Reader with Loki, Buddha, Tesla, Beelzebub, Jack, Ares, Hermes, Rudra, Hades, Hercules and Platonic Zerofuku

She fights against Athena or some brutish god that doesn’t care about destroying Human History, which angers her and she smiles as she reveals her ‘Devilish Side’ (Using Demonio Fleur, which horrifies her opponent and they’re begging for mercy, only for Reader to break their spine) when some random god says her win doesn’t count because she ‘Cheated’ she uses her power and… crushes his balls (I love Robin she’s my queen 💖)

she calls (Love) a Squirrel when he eats with his cheeks stuffed with food (She calls Loki adorable when he messes up with his transformations) and her dark sense of humor keeps people on their toes

-As you walked out, following Athena’s over the top entrance, many were a little disappointed, as you didn’t seem anything special, you weren’t dancing or doing any fancy moves, you weren’t even holding a weapon! How are you going to fight Athena of all goddesses with no weapons?!

-Athena smirked down at you, but she was a little surprised, seeing that you didn’t look at all bothered, as the humans cheered for you. It was a little odd, as you remembered, for most of your life, humans were hunting you, wanting the bounty on your head, believing the government that you were a demon and needed to be destroyed.

- As the fight started, you crossed your arms in front of you, “Mil Fleur: Gigantesco Mano!!” hands started to surround you, forming into something bigger and bigger, before two massive hands appeared and you controlled them, swinging out to open-hand strike at Athena who only barely blocked the first one, but was sent flying with the second one.

-Many were stunned, seeing your abilities, several were shouting that this ability was illegal- but Zeus did relent, as it was a part of you when you had died, it was legal, but that still didn’t please everyone.

-You and Athena traded blows back and forth and you were panting heavily, injured and you needed to wrap this battle up soon. Athena then smirked and changed her own form, to be one that towered over you, the same size of her statue in Athens as she smirked down at you, “How will you handle this?!”

-You just smirked, stunning her as you closed your eyes for a moment, gathering what strength you had left, “Demonio Fleur~” eyes went wide as your own body seemed to grow and grow, your skin turning to almost pitch black with a red tint, horns and wings sprouting from your body, making you look like an actual demon.

-Many were terrified to see this form, but so many were also stunned, seeing that you could transform into a demon, despite being a human.

-Athena was terrified of you, demanding you to get back, shocking so many, as she was regarded as one of the bravest gods, and many were shouting for you to let her go as you managed to grab her. She was still trying to insult you, trying to break free as you both started screaming, you from overexerting yourself, and her from pain as well as trying to get out.

-You then shouted out, “Gran Jacuzzi Clutch!!” and a sickening snap echoed through the arena, as you broke Athena’s back and she went limp in your arms, dying.

-Your demonic form faded as she fell to the ground and you were gasping for air, exhausted from the battle, but you couldn’t help but smile, hearing the cheers for you as you had won the whole tournament.

-Zues approached you as you stood, as he had promised, if humanity won this final match, he would grant your wish, and you stunned everyone by smiling, “Bring everyone back.” Zeus was surprised, hearing your wish, but he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Perhaps you’re not a demon at all, Y/N.”

-You just turned, walking away from him as everyone was reforming, as you needed to get to the infirmary, “No- others were the ones who made me like this. But I will wear the crown if it fits.”

-Another god, who couldn’t believe that you defeated Athena, shouted at you, “You cheated- that power of yours isn’t fair!!” you looked up at him and he froze as two hands appeared and everyone around him froze as you grabbed his balls, crushing them, making all men around fear you, or at least fear insulting you- you were quite cruel when you wanted to be.

-Your words stunned many, hearing that you weren’t a cruel person, but others deemed you one, claiming you were evil, and you remember a time in your life when you were, doing vile things , but after you met your captain- no… your family, you only did bad things to protect them and yourself. They had given you a second chance when nobody else would, and you wouldn’t let anyone who didn’t earn it take it from you.

-You were resting in the infirmary when one of the nurses said you had a guest and you opened your eyes, curious as to who was coming and when Zerofuku walked in, you couldn’t help but smile softly, welcoming him.

-Immediately he was across the room, lunging into your arms, which made you giggle softly, hugging him close as he sniffled softly, “I’m so glad you’re okay!” when he pulled back, tears streaming down his face, you couldn’t help but smile softly, brushing the tears from his cheeks, “I’m okay now, Zerofuku.”

-He sniffled again, “Pinkie promise?” you just smiled, knowing the truth behind pinkie promises, showing your more morbid sense of humor as you showed him both of your pinkies, “Which one do you want if I’m lying?”

-He froze, realizing what you had just said before he started wailing loudly, hugging you around his neck as you giggled softly before you heard another knock at the door.

-(Love) walked in, giving you a slightly exasperated look, “Really Y/N- you know you shouldn’t joke about things like that.” Your hand hid your lips as you giggled softly, Zerofuku pulling back to rub at his eyes as (Love) came over, sitting on the opposite side before he wrapped his arms around you, sagging into your embrace, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” You smiled softly, lifting a hand to stroke at the back of his neck, “I decided long ago that nobody was going to kill me unless if they earned it the hard way.” (Love) couldn’t help but chuckle- he knew that you were strong, you wouldn’t go down easily as your two boys, your lover and your adopted son, both doted on you as you were still recovering.

-Beelzebub, Hades, Hermes, Rudra, and Jack

-Immediately ran in and joined Zerofuku, hugging the both of you, crying loudly, “You’re okay!!” you couldn’t help but giggle, as he knew you were okay if you were making dark jokes like this, like normal. Seeing both of them crying crocodile tears, which did make you think of your old boss, Crocodile, crying, which was rather amusing to think about, you did try to calm them down, “You’re going to give yourself puffy eyes and cheeks- you’ll look just a like a couple of squirrels.” They both sniffled in unison, which you did think was adorable, a giggle rising out of you as you hugged them to you, happy that you won- you had them both in your arms again.

-Loki, Buddha, Nikola, Ares, and Hercules

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror zerofuku #ror beelzebub #ror hades #ror hermes #ror rudra #ror jack the ripper #ror loki #ror buddha #ror nikola tesla #ror ares #ror heracles

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 year

Text

A Broken Ankle, Karma Rules.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - another random idea that popped into my head… enjoy!!

word count - 1.4k

in which, going on a run with your fiancé of two years means harmless flirting and teasing, that is until an incident occurs and he has to carry you back to the car.

As you sat in the passenger seat of your fiancé's sleek Tesla, the soft hum of the engine filled the air. The anticipation of going on a run together at the park was palpable, as you both waited for the perfect moment to step out of the car and immerse yourselves in the fresh air and lush greenery.

You glanced over at Harry, your heart swelling with love and excitement. His curly hair framed his face in a charming disarray, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He wore a mischievous grin, as if he knew a secret that only the two of you shared.

"Ready for our run, m’love?" Harry asked, his voice filled with eagerness.

You nodded, smiling back at him. "Definitely! Although, I have to say, you're lucky I agreed to this. Dragging me out of bed at this hour is no easy feat."

Harry knew for a fact that you weren’t a morning person.

Harry chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, come on now. You know I couldn't resist spending this time with you. Besides, it's good for us to get our blood pumping early in the morning."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Well, I hope you appreciate the effort I'm putting in here. I'm not exactly a morning person, you know."

He leaned in, his voice turning husky. "I'll make it worth your while, darling. I promise."

Feeling a surge of anticipation, you reached for your water bottles and grabbed the car keys. "Alright, let's do this! Time to step out and conquer that park."

You both hopped out of the car, the cool breeze enveloping you. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a single AirPod, holding it up to you.

"Shall we share the music?" he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

You grinned and took the AirPod, placing it delicately in your ear, the familiar chords of ‘eye of the river’ rang through your ears, that was enough to get you motivated for the run.

As the music started to play, you noticed that Harry had already started moving, his athletic figure bounding ahead.

His back was bare seeing as the weather was insanely hot currently and he was wearing a pair of blue running shorts, and his pink Calvin kelvin’s were on display.

You could feel yourself getting slightly worked up, the cheeky git always did then when the two of you were in public.

"Hey, wait up!" you called after him, a mix of laughter and exhilaration in your voice.

He slowed down, turning back to you with a playful grin. "You better catch up, love. We've got a run to conquer together."

As you jogged side by side with your fiancé Harry, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps echoed through the crisp morning air. The park was alive with activity, but your focus remained on the playful banter and connection between you.

As you chatted about your plans for the day, Harry couldn't resist a mischievous grin. With a sudden motion, he playfully reached out and tickled your hips, causing you to let out a surprised giggle and slow down.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, swatting his hand away. "That's not fair! You're distracting me!"

Harry laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I couldn't resist. You were just too tempting. But now, I'm afraid you'll have to catch up to me.”

A competitive fire ignited within you, and you shot him a determined glance. "Challenge accepted, slowpoke. Get ready to eat my dust."

With a burst of energy, you picked up the pace and raced past Harry, your feet pounding against the pavement. The wind rushed through your hair as you surged forward, leaving him momentarily in your wake.

Glancing over your shoulder, you called out with a triumphant smile, "Come on, Harry! I thought you said you were a professional runner!"

Harry laughed, his voice filled with mock protest. "Oh, you're in for it now! Just you wait, I'll catch up!"

You continued to push yourself, feeling the thrill of the friendly competition fueling your every stride. The playful taunts and laughter added a layer of joy to the run, reminding you of the deep connection you shared.

Soon enough, Harry's footsteps grew louder behind you as he closed the gap. With a final burst of determination, he ran alongside you, matching your pace.

"There you are," Harry said, a playful grin on his face. "I told you I'd catch up."

You grinned back, the exhilaration of the run shining in your eyes. "Well, I had to give you a head start, didn't I? Just to make it a fair race."

Harry's laughter echoed through the park as you both continued to run side by side, the competitive spirit subsiding to be replaced by a shared sense of joy and camaraderie.

You know, Harry," you said with a playful smirk, "I think I might have to start calling you 'Slowpoke' as your official nickname."

Harry chuckled, his competitive spirit ignited. "Oh, really? We'll see about that. Prepare to eat my dust, love."

With a wink, you took off, your feet hitting the pavement with purpose. You could hear Harry's footsteps behind you, gradually fading as you increase your pace.

Feeling mischievous, you decided to test the limits. You picked up even more speed, savouring the thrill of the wind rushing past you. Unbeknownst to you, Harry slowed down, taking a short water break to quench his thirst.

As you continued to jog ahead, revelling in the playfulness of the moment, your foot caught on an uneven patch of ground, causing you to lose your balance. Pain shot through your ankle, and you let out a cry of distress.

Hearing your scream, Harry's heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, he abandoned his water bottle and sprinted in the direction of your voice. Fear and concern propelled him forward, his mind focused on reaching you as quickly as possible.

When he finally caught sight of you, lying on the ground and cradling your injured ankle, his heart sank. Kneeling down beside you, he gently cupped your face with his hands.

"Love, are you okay? What happened?" Harry asked, his voice filled with worry.

You winced, tears welling up in your eyes. "I... I think I’ve broken… my ankle. It hurts so much, H..Harry."

Concern etched across his face, Harry carefully examined your ankle. "Let me help you up. We'll get you to the hospital, alright?"

As Harry saw the pain etched on your face, he made a firm decision. "Lovie, I'm going to carry you to the car. I don't want you putting any weight on that ankle."

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "O-okay, H…. Thank you."

Gently, Harry scooped you up in his arms, his strength enveloping you. Despite his efforts to be careful, each step caused a jolt of pain to shoot through your ankle. Whimpers escaped your lips, and you clung tightly to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

The sobs that wracked your body echoed in the air, and Harry's heart ached at the sound. He tightened his hold on you, his voice filled with soothing reassurance. "Shh, love. I'm here. I've got you. Just hold on, we're almost back at the car."

His comforting words offered a glimmer of solace amidst the pain. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, and his steady heartbeat served as a calming rhythm. He continued to carry you, navigating the path with careful steps, determined to get you to safety as quickly as possible.

With each passing moment, his tender support and unwavering presence began to ease the anguish. You clung to him, seeking solace in his embrace, knowing that you were not alone in this moment of vulnerability.

Finally, you reached the car, and Harry gently settled you in the passenger seat. He quickly moved around to the driver's side, his eyes filled with concern as he started the engine.

"You're doing so well, love," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "We'll get you to the hospital, it’s bruising really quickly, m'love, and I'll take care of you."

As the car pulled away from the park, you let out another sob, the emotions overwhelming you. Harry reached over, taking your hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of your pain.

He glanced at you, his eyes filled with compassion. "It's alright to cry, love. Let it out. I'm here for you."

That was the last time you were going to be narcissistic ever again if this is what it led to.

But you know what they say:

Broken Ankle, Karma Rules.

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