#group exercise instructor

[pynkhues]

Every now and then, a young woman will bring her equally young boyfriend to a Pilates class, and he will inevitably start by treating it as a big joke like the fact that He a Man has come to Pilates, a Woman’s Class (despite there being men who attend all my regular classes). He will grab the largest set of hand weights from the store room, joke with the instructor about “going easy on him”, take a spot at the front of the class, and realise about five minutes in that Pilates is Hard Actually, and usually by about twenty minutes in will clearly have started feeling emasculated, throw a tantrum and either lie on the mat and refuse to do the rest of the class, or loudly and disruptively leave.

[lao-huangs-bitch]

Only Slightly Late but Happy Easter

i made him in like 4 hours don't @ me

[xoxojisu]

"LALALALA"

synopsis: yapper reader x listener katsuki. in which you finally get to see katsuki!

notes: grumpy x sunshine also. basically just yap yap yap reader and bro stfu katsuki. based on some prompt i remember seeing forever ago. deviating from my usual 'reader and katsuki childhood friends go to ua tg' bc this is such a cute idea

the field is buzzing, students from different hero schools gathering in small groups and instructors calling out over the noise generating quite the racket. there’s tension, excitement, and a bit of rivalry in the air. class 1-a stands off to the side, eyes scanning the new arrivals. bakugo stands isolated from the group with his arms crossed, mouth already in a deep scowl.

he hates group exercises. hates surprise training simulations. hates-

“katsuki!!”

and then it happens.

a blur comes flying in from the other side of the field. he hears it before he sees it, and by the time he turns his head, it’s too late. you launch yourself at him from behind, tackling him in a full-body hug that actually makes him take a step forward. his body tenses immediately, hands twitching instinctively like he might throw you off-

but he doesn’t. he would never.

“kats! kats!” you giggle, climbing halfway up his back like he’s your personal jungle gym. you hook your chin over his shoulder, big goofy grin stretching across your face as you hug him tight. “hi!!”

there’s a long pause. bakugo doesn’t move. doesn’t shout. doesn’t blow anything up. the whole world stills in suspense.

eventually, he sighs, a hint of a not-angry expression present on his face. "hi."

“uh… are we… seeing this?” kirishima says under his breath, eyes wide.

“kats, i swear, it feels like it’s been forever since i’ve seen you! i mean, seriously, how is it that we’re both doing this hero thing and still barely getting any time to hang out? it’s like the universe just hates us or something. i’ve been stuck in this crazy hellfire intensity training like all week, and it’s not even the fun kind, it’s just endless drills and lectures and like ugh ohmygod, i’m so over it. anyway, i missed you kats!! how are you? healthy? well? making friends? wait, who am i kidding. youre definitely healthy because youre like a health-conscious old man, and definitely no friends."

you’re talking so fast he doesn’t have time to respond to anything. he just stares down at you, not saying a word or moving an inch.

eventually, he reaches out, drops a heavy hand onto your head, and mutters, “shut up.”

you beam like he just handed you flowers. “there he is,” you giggle, grabbing his arm and hugging it to your chest. “so grumpy. so cute. i miiiissed you!”

he grumbles something pissy under his breath, but makes no move to pull away.

aizawa’s voice cuts through the air. “pair off.”

despite you already hanging on him, bakugo grabs you immediately. “we’re teaming up.”

“wait, what?” mina says from behind him. “you’re not gonna work with us?”

“we’re teaming up,” he snaps again, louder this time, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“but you always-”

“shut up. all of you. shut. the fuck. up.”

you’re already bouncing beside him, eyes bright. “oh my god, kats, i have so many ideas. okay, okay—what if you blow a hole in the wall and you know how i texted you last week about that new feature on my costume? i could use that to- wait! or we could climb over the roof and-”

“you talk too much,” he mutters, dragging you along gently despite his annoyed expression.

“you love it,” you sing, completely unbothered.

he doesn’t answer.

but the tiniest corner of his mouth tugs up.

masterlist

[wellnesgreen]

In the pursuit of attaining triumph in the realm of physical well-being, there exists a common aspiration among numerous individuals, all seeking to steer their lives toward greater health and contentment. A fundamental pillar in this endeavor revolves around the consistent engagement in physical activities, forming the bedrock of a harmonious existence, proffering an abundance of advantages for both the corporeal and psychological realms alike. Nevertheless, traversing the intricate domain of fitness may engender a sense of overwhelming complexity, a labyrinthine milieu where progress can readily reach an impasse, stalling one's path to success. This is precisely where the figure of a certified personal trainer emerges as a pivotal protagonist, donning the mantle of a sagacious guide, dispensing bespoke acumen and kindling unyielding motivation, all culminating in the realization of individual fitness aspirations with unparalleled efficacy.

[rockingbytheseaside]

I love your art and headcannons! I was wondering if you can do a headcannon for the harbingers with reader helping them with their work. Like helping pantalone with papers in his office or dottore with experiments or just passing tools to him?

✦ You help them at work (or how they just want you to stay around)

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone

✧ You felt heartbroken whenever Pierro relentlessly toiled as the Fatui Director. Hours spent at the imposing meeting halls of the Zapolyarny Palace or engaging in arduous negotiations for the organization's cause could hardly be enjoyable. Thus, concerned for your beloved’s well-being, you resolved to take on a more proactive role and assist The Jester on his behalf. 

“Today you will sit back and rest, Pierro. I will conduct your meetings… No buts or ifs.” 

The Harbinger blinked at you in wonder. Not because he disapproved of your presence, but because he vowed to work for your safety and comfort. However, you remained unyielding. Standing defiantly, with your hands on your hips, you announced that his stubborn protectiveness of you won’t change your mind. And who is he to deny you anyway? 

It seems you are the Fatui Director today. 

In his office, you meticulously tended to every minute detail. Whether it's preparing his tea, reorganizing essential documents, or double-checking all the archives and schedules. Any attempts from Pierro to assist would be met with you scolding him. And although he obediently stood back, he couldn’t help but smile fondly at your endearing sternness. If you take the lead, he is your loyal servant. Besides, whenever you conduct business negotiations on his behalf, things would always go accordingly (just don’t mind Pierro looming behind you, his icy glare threatening anyone you are talking with into obedience.) 

Once all was set and done, a sense of pride welled inside you, while Pierro mirrored your warm smile. You worked so hard to aid him… You just don’t have to know that he settled all difficult tasks in advance before you even entered his office. He was several steps ahead in everything, after all. Besides, he won’t argue when the result is him admiring your presence in his workplace. What truly matters now is the luxury of time to savor your love and hold you close without any worries about Fatui duties.

✧ When Il Capitano heard your suggestion to help, he felt worried. His work as a Captain required extreme physical exercise and was bodily taxing, regardless of the slower days when he overlooked the training of his specialized troops. Not only that but training under the strict regime of the 1st Fatui harbinger meant enduring a military-like attitude. And yet here you were, casually waving his worries off, promising to be an additional mentor training his soldiers.

“As long as you don’t wear yourself out, my loved one. It’s not just the fatigue and muscle soreness I worry about, but the attitude of my soldiers. They might not be as… lenient as you.” 

You soothed his concern every time he caressed your shoulder with worry or checked in on you. He was so tender when he was worried, you had to firmly hold his helmeted face and tell him sternly that everything would be alright. And how can he be worried when you smiled so easily at him? 

Thus, on the day of the soldiers’ training, Il Capitano introduced you as his equal and the additional instructor for today’s workout. You were such a stark contrast to the hard-faced troops who got used to battlefields and warfare. But you just stood there, waving casually… Perhaps you would fare well as the “forgiving substitute mentor”.

Alas, that was Capitano’s first mistake. 

Not an hour in, the group of soldiers you overlooked returned with bruises and distressed faces. Their gazes looked as if they saw unfathomable horrors, clutching their newly formed pains within their joints; the once stoic Fatui soldiers now flinched like children. When the Harbinger arrived to inspect, it seemed his worries were misplaced. Instead of you he should’ve been concerned about, he was now witnessing his troop being subjugated to merciless yelling from you as if his men never knew how to hold a weapon. 

That day, The Harbinger’s soldier begged him to never bring you as a substitute trainer again. At the very least, they never slacked off after that, in fear you might be brought back. Although secretly, The Harbinger could not deny his admiration. Who knew someone as cheerful and easygoing as his beloved would turn into a war machine when required? Your prowess never alluded him, but it definitely reminded him of your hidden allure to the smitten Captain.

“My moon and star, I am uncertain whether I can bring you back to my work once more. However, you must display your teaching methods in a spar for me in private, one-on-one.” 

✧ It wasn't at your suggestion that you found yourself in Il Dottore's laboratory, nor did he seek your assistance directly. Instead, it was one of his subordinates who came knocking on your door, bowing low. You were well aware of your beloved's tendency to hyper-fixate on his scientific endeavors, not welcoming any outside help that might divert his attention from his work. Nevertheless, a scowl crossed your face as you observed the desperate plea of the Fatui worker, imploring your aid.

“Please, I know I have no right to ask for anything, but you must help. The Doctor snaps at anyone who even breathes the wrong way. One wrong move and a scalpel will come flying straight at them. There is no other way to persuade our Lord Harbinger!”

You hummed wistfully but nodded - “I mean… I can help. Just bear in mind, I am no lab assistant. My aid will be minimal, but if it’s for Dottore, then I see where the issue lies.”

Thus, you found yourself paying an unexpected visit to your sweet Doctor’s lab. Precisely at the moment when one of his fiery reprimands was being delivered, a series of loud crashes reverberated from the imposing lab gates. Dottore was in the midst of an enraged explanation to his subordinates on why the rare Phlogiston from Natlan must not be wasted in excess when experimenting, his hand crashing on the metallic counter loudly.

“And if I found that any of you fools mishandles the Phlogiston, you will-”

“Will what?” Your voice interrupted, the Fatui assistant saw you approach from behind the Harbinger with your hands clasped behind your back. “What will happen, you said?”

Dottore froze. At your familiar voice, he casually turned to check on you, as if your mere presence in his workplace was an anomaly. Whatever lab tool or flask he was gripping was carefully put in its place. “Nothing. Nothing will happen, dear.” 

Hence, you chose to remain and offer assistance this time. Or rather, you quietly oversaw his laboratory work, providing minimal help without disrupting the actual scientific processes. You might argue that you hardly did anything that day, but the Fatui assistants? They were silently praying to the Tsaritsa’s merciful act of bringing a saint over here. Because the second your presence was known in this bleak, desensitized lab, Il Dottore’s attitude changed by a mile. 

He no longer snapped, slammed his fist onto counters, or even spoke loudly to his underlings. He suddenly turned tame. If he commanded something, and you interfered with his words, he would obediently change his mind as if you were the indisputable superior here.

“This testing is insufficient. We must retry it and double down on the sample for quicker efficiency-”

“Well, no, it's already late and it will be better to revise this experiment tomorrow.” - you stated simply, to which Dottore parroted with no hesitation. 

“You're right. It is late. The experiment will be revised tomorrow.” 

It's safe to say, the Fatui subordinates were left gawking that day. The formerly harsh and impatient doctor had transformed into a compliant child, allowing himself to proceed at a leisurely pace and follow your lead. Moreover, a simple touch on his shoulder from you or a soft smile would swiftly dissipate all his tension whenever he felt agitated. Not to mention you coaxed him to finish shift earlier for everyone. 

You should visit more frequently.

✧ Scaramouche hated having you help around in his work as a Lord Harbinger. Not because of your genuine consideration and effort, but because now he has to witness his foolish Fatui soldiers act all naive and joyous when you were around. 

Amidst a bustling workday of handling documents, gathering information, and conducting training sessions, time flew by effortlessly whenever you took charge. And the rest of the Balladeer’s subordinates adored you. You were easier to talk to, provided clear guidance, and attentively addressed any concerns affecting the mission or the staff. This stood in stark contrast to the Balladeer's snarky commands and derisive demeanor.

Alas, this is not why Scaramouche was standing with crossed arms, clenching his fists. One of the Fatui skirmishers was getting too comfortable with you as commander. Worst of all, your graceful smile was bestowed upon them, not him when he literally stood behind you. 

“Today's work has been completed.” - Lord Harbinger Scaramouche stated to his underlings. “You're dismissed. Now scram before I see any of your faces.” 

As the day progressed, you barely had a second to sit down, before a pair of slim arms encircled your waist tightly. Perhaps too tightly. Scaramouche’s face hung low on the crook of your shoulder, while his body pressed to your back with a mumbled grumble. - “Hm? What is it, Scara? I thought you were satisfied with the work done early.” 

"Don't waste your time helping the lazy fools. You’re supposed to stay with me a little while longer.” 

✧ Upon offering your assistance in advance, Pantalone's joyful grin would expand tenfold, reminiscent of a schoolboy eagerly welcoming his crush into his home. He would excitedly pace around, discussing arrangements to ensure your comfort. He'll bring your favorite beverages, perhaps some snacks, cancel all meetings so you'll have his undivided attention… 

“Pantalone, I said I will be there to help. Not go on a date.” 

But his head is not listening. Because once the day arrives and you begin to stride around in his office, he would remain stationary. Watching you with an adoring smile, hands clasped together. Whatever paperwork he was supposed to analyze was forgotten, and suddenly the 9th of the Fatui Harbingers forgot his own signature when you're around.

“Pantalone, are you listening? I reorganized these financial reports. And don't forget to reread the clauses in these receipts too… Are you still with me?” 

Yet all he could do was sit there and smile at how fondly you looked as a boss in his office. “...Yes dear.” 

You sighed deeply, knowing well he wouldn't accomplish any work today. However, after some gentle persuasion and the passage of time, you miraculously managed to guide your beloved into a state of complete concentration on his work. He sat behind his desk, engrossed in paperwork and skimming over documents. Adjusting his silver glasses, he then beckoned to you.

“Sweetheart? Could you step over here for a moment? I need you to review the numbers on these financial reports before I approve them. And your attention to detail has always been exceptional.”

You casually obliged, stepping next to his mahogany desk to look over the figures in the paper. Leaning over, you began reading, but Pantalone had other ideas. 

“Oh, this might be uncomfortable for you, dear. Come, sit here.”

Before you know it, you're pulled right over his armchair to plop comfortably onto his lap. And while you managed to determine that there was nothing faulty or inconsistent in the financial reports he is holding, you discerned his clever ploy - “Pantalone, these papers are already signed. There's nothing wrong with them.” 

However your beloved only beamed in triumph, his hands putting down the papers and coming to secure your place in his lap. 

“Oh, Is that so? Well, you’re already sitting here and it’s so comfortable. You can’t blame my longing for your continued presence, darling.” 

I’m still alive, I swear! Just busy exploring Natlan. Hope I didn’t sway too far off from the main suggestion with this fanfic. Thank you for reading ❣

[pastel-charm-14]

a beginners guide to pilates

pilates is a low-impact exercise method that focuses on strengthening the body, improving flexibility, and enhancing overall fitness. it's suitable for people of all ages and fitness levels, making it an excellent choice for beginners who are looking to start a new exercise routine. in this guide, we'll cover the basics of pilates and provide tips for getting started.

what is pilates?

pilates was developed by joseph pilates in the early 20th century as a system of exercises designed to improve strength, flexibility, and body awareness. it incorporates a series of controlled movements that target the core muscles, as well as other muscle groups throughout the body. pilates emphasizes proper alignment, breathing, and concentration, making it a holistic approach to fitness.

benefits of pilates

strengthens core muscles: pilates focuses on strengthening the muscles of the core, including the abdominals, lower back, and pelvic floor, which can improve posture and stability.

improves flexibility: pilates exercises promote flexibility and range of motion in the muscles and joints, reducing the risk of injury and enhancing overall mobility.

enhances body awareness: pilates encourages mindful movement and body awareness, helping individuals develop a deeper connection between mind and body.

promotes relaxation: pilates incorporates breathing techniques and relaxation exercises, which can help reduce stress and promote a sense of calm and well-being.

increases muscular endurance: pilates exercises are performed in a slow and controlled manner, which helps build muscular endurance over time, allowing individuals to perform daily activities with greater ease.

getting started with pilates

find a qualified instructor: if you're new to pilates, consider taking a class with a certified pilates instructor who can guide you through the exercises and ensure proper form and technique.

start with the basics: begin with beginner-level pilates exercises that focus on building core strength, such as the hundred, pelvic tilts, and leg circles. gradually progress to more challenging exercises as you gain strength and confidence.

focus on proper alignment: pay attention to your alignment during pilates exercises, keeping your spine neutral and your shoulders relaxed. engage your core muscles to stabilize your body and prevent injury.

breathe deeply: practice diaphragmatic breathing during pilates exercises, inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling fully through your mouth. coordinate your breath with your movements to promote relaxation and enhance concentration.

listen to your body: listen to your body and work at your own pace during pilates workouts. if an exercise feels too challenging or causes discomfort, modify it or take a break as needed.

be consistent: aim to practice pilates regularly to experience the full benefits of the method. start with two to three sessions per week and gradually increase the frequency and duration of your workouts as you progress.

remember that pilates is a journey, and progress takes time and dedication. be patient with yourself as you learn and grow in your practice, and enjoy the many benefits that pilates has to offer for your mind, body, and spirit.

[smutoperator]

Shake It Baby

Kang Jihyun (Soyou) x Male Reader

Summer 2015 Episode 1

Tags: anal, ass eating, big butt, bouncy boobs, cum on ass, dirty talk, facefucking, facesitting, floor sex, (a little) footjob, pervert instructor, ripped yoga pants, rough sex, screaming, squatting, titfucking, twerking, workout

Word count: 5327.

Money maker, rump shaker. Heartbreaker, chance taker. Net payer, one slayer. One, two, three, let's go. The song starts playing, and Soyou starts exercising in front of her instructor as she prepares for her group's comeback, ready to show why Sistar are known as the summer queens.

Soyou keeps moving sexily as she dances, putting extra emphasis on her shaking and squatting as she wears the blue yoga pants from the soon-to-be-released music video. "You're moving quite hard, aren't you?" you ask her. "Well, the song is called 'Shake It,' so I gotta do it just like that," she answers.

"Keep going then; you're looking very good," you tell Soyou as she ramps up the intensity of her moves. You notice as she squats that her yoga pants can barely keep her beautiful big butt inside, looking at her ass nonstop and hoping she doesn't notice it.

You instruct Soyou to keep doing her exercise, her ass getting very sweaty as she keeps the intensity. "Your ass shape is amazing," you tell her as she keeps squatting it. "What did you say?" she asks. "Your shape is looking amazing," you answer.

"Let's do it together," you tell Soyou, moving up and down alongside her. Her big, beautiful ass rubs against your crotch, and you can't help but get yourself erect right on the spot. "What are you doing, teacher?" she asks, noticing your bulge rub against her yoga pants. "Helping you with the training," you tell her.

"Arch that back," you say to Soyou, putting her with her face down and ass up. Your cock is so hard it's already poking out of your shorts, which she soon notices. "I think you need to, let's say, fix your pants," she tells you as she takes the first look into your hard cock. You feel a little embarrassed, but Soyou can't stop looking at your cock.

"I can't focus, teacher; it's right in my face," Soyou tells you. "Just ignore it," you tell her, but Soyou just can't; that cock is getting her really hungry even though she is pretending not to. "That's so unprofessional, get your shit together," she says. "Alright," you answer her.

"Sit down, let's do some exercises with your chesty," you tell Soyou as you put your hands on her boobs. "Teacher, what the hell are you doing? You're such a fucking creep," she says, taking your hands off. "I'm sorry," you tell her. "So you want to be a perv? I wanna show you how to do that," she says.

Soyou rips her yoga pants apart right around her butt, exposing her bare ass for you. "Eat it out; I deserve it after such a long, sweaty workout," she says. You promptly oblige, diving your face between her big butt as she starts shaking it in your face. "Oh, fuck, that's right, baby," she says.

You attack Soyou's butthole very aggressively. "Oh yeah, stick that tongue deep in my asshole," she tells you. You touch her sweaty pussy too. Soyou moves her butt back and forth, pushing your face against her butt with her feet. "OH YEAH, SHOVE IT DEEP IN MY ASS," she screams.

You quickly move down and start attacking Soyou's pussy with your tongue as well. "Lick that pussy all the way up to my asshole," she commands, grabbing your head and shoving it into her ass. "I want you to tongue both my sweaty holes," she commands.

Soyou sits on top of your face and starts, you guess it, shaking it. "Oh my God, that feels so good," she says as she moves her big ass all over your face, doing a little twerking as you try to stick your tongue out to lick her pussy. "Get that pussy in your mouth, you pervert, work out that fucking tongue in my clit," she says as she shakes her butt in your face.

"That's perfect, baby; let me use that face," Soyou says as you grab her ass and savor her pussy to the fullest. She bounces her ass up and down your face, loving being on top of it. "I love the way you slide that tongue in my pussy," she says, rubbing her folds all over her face.

Soyou gets up, but you're so addicted to her sweaty holes already you reach your fingers inside them. "Oh baby, I'm gonna need much more than a couple of fingers," Soyou says. "And I already saw you've got something much better than that; now show me," she continues.

You follow Soyou's instructions and unzip your pants down, popping your cock out right in her face. "Oh yeah, give me that big cock," she commands, stroking it nicely and talking dirty from the get-go. "First I'm gonna jerk it off with my hands and then with my throat," she says, slapping it with her tongue before fulfilling her promise and taking it deep in her throat for the first time. "I knew you wanted me to suck it this whole time, this huge, fat, thick cock. It's gonna look amazing stretching both my holes," she says, talking dirty to you.

"Do you like my tongue all over that thick microphone?" Soyou asks you. "Yes, fuck," you answer her. "You like those dick-sucking lips?" she asks. "Are you ready for me to suck your soul?" she continues, grabbing it hard and sucking, stroking, and spitting it, then bobbing her head on it like crazy.

"Fuck my face, baby," Soyou asks as you oblige and push your cock down her throat. She keeps her eyes open at all moments. "I know you can fuck it harder," she tells you as she dives to suck your balls as you stroke your already wet cock. "Lick those balls, you fucking slut," you tell her, and Soyou does it to perfection, shaking her tongue all over them.

"Let me suck it and stroke it more," Soyou says, licking your cock from top to bottom before you put her fun to an end, grabbing her head and thrusting against her pretty face. She smiles, enjoying every second of it, toying with your cock. "You love fucking that pretty face, don't you?" Soyou asks as she takes your cock deep in her throat like a champion, making incredible gagging sounds. You take your clothes off, manhandling Soyou's slutty face. She puts her arms behind her back, just letting you use her face like a fleshlight.

Soyou bends over as she sucks your cock, letting you reach to massage her big ass and stick your fingers in her sweaty anus. "Let me finger that fucking asshole," you tell her, massaging her butthole to perfection and making Soyou push hard, taking your cock all the way down her throat.

"Show me those beautiful tits," you tell Soyou as she takes her bra off and exposes her huge pair of milk bags. Soyou is truly the full package: big ass, slutty mouth, and massive boobs ready for you to use her in a sexy workout. You take your cock between her boobs as she squeezes them around it. "Yes, baby, slide between those big fucking titties," she commands.

Soyou lowers her head as she tries to take a slice of your tip as your cock goes up and down her boobs at a very fast pace. "Fuck my big titties," she commands, with a naughty smile as your balls make loud noises clapping against the face of her boobs. "USE THEM, YES, YES, YES," she screams, putting her tongue out as you keep thrusting against her boobs.

"Fuck these titties, fuck these titties, use these titties to jerk off your cock," Soyou demands as she talks dirty to you and you choke her. "OH FUCK," she moans, lowering her head to take more of your cock and then stroking it. "I can jerk your cock off with every part of my body: my face, my tits, my pussy, my butt," she brags as you keep titfucking her like crazy, Soyou taking more and more of your cock.

"Fuck me like that, look me in the eye, and use those titties to jerk off your cock," Soyou says. You slap your cock in her face, grabbing her head and fucking it for some good measure, until you're ready to move to the next round.

"Turn around and show me that ass," you tell Soyou as she obliges and gives you an amazing view of her backside while shaking her big butt. She then gets herself on all fours on the floor. "I'm ready for you to use these holes," she says, you not wasting any second and promptly sliding your cock inside her pussy.

"OH FUCK, AHHHH," Soyou screams as you pound her pussy hard from the get-go, grabbing her arms from behind. "How does that tight little pussy feel squeezed around your cock, baby?" she asks, looking at you as make her big boobs bounce. You briefly take a break to lick it, but Soyou is having none of it and just wants more of that meat inside her. "Shove that cock back inside me," she says.

You do as Soyou asks and fuck her pussy hard. "Yes, use it, yes, use it, oh, fuck," she moans. "You're so good," she says, shaking her hips to meet your thrusts. "YEAH BABY, FUCK ME," she screams. "Shhhh," you try to silence her to not get the attention of the neighbors, but Soyou couldn't care less about them; all she cares about is your big fat cock stretching her out.

"Fuck me harder with that cock, AHHHH, FUCK, FUCK, MAKE ME CUM," she screams, your balls clapping hard against her cheeks. "POUND IT, FUCK, AHHHH, YES, YES, YES," she continues to scream, showing off her vocal skills. "YES, BABY, DON'T STOP," she keeps going. "KEEP FUCKING ME," she commands as you spank her ass.

"USE THAT PUSSY, SHOW ME WHAT YOU CAN DO, THAT'S YOUR LITTLE PUSSY, JERK OFF THAT COCK INSIDE IT," Soyou keeps commanding. You slow down a bit and kiss her slutty mouth before grabbing her neck and choking her hard and giving her your hardest thrusts ever, using her pussy as your pleasure toy.

"STUFF ME, FUCKING STUFF THAT PUSSY, STUFF THAT LITTLE HOLE, POUND IT!" Soyou commands as you attack that pussy harder than ever. "LOOK AT THAT SEXY ASS MOVING FOR THAT COCK," she says as she shakes it. You quickly put her in her place, grabbing her neck and pulling her hair. "YES, I'M YOUR LITTLE SLUT, JERK THAT COCK OFF IN MY PUSSY, GIVE IT TO MY LITTLE PUSSY," she screams.

"MY PUSSY WANTS SOME MORE, OH MY GODDDDD. FUCK ME, USE MY LITTLE JERKOFF HOLE," Soyou begs as you keep pounding her cunt. You get so rough you slam her face against the room's wall. But she likes every second of it. "Don't stop, I'm gonna fucking cum, AHHHHH," she commands as her head gets slammed against the wall and your cock hits her cervix before you toss her onto the floor and lay down. "Sit on that dick, you fucking slut," you tell her.

Soyou promptly crawls in your direction as she tastes herself on your cock for the first time, sucking and jerking it off as she prepares to ride it with her cunt. She bobs her head hard on it, then lets you thrust up her face from the floor. "That's it, such a good slut, fuck yeah," you tell her as Soyou gets her face stuffed full of cock.

"Slide it in me now, I wanna use that cock for my pleasure," Soyou tells you as you grab your shaft and get it in position for her to sit on it. "AHHHH, FUCK, THAT COCK IS SO BIG, IT'S REALLY STRETCHING ME OUT," she says, taking it slow. "Watch me slide down that big pole, fuck," she says, alternating slow rides with some faster cowgirl rides that make her boobs bounce hard.

It doesn't take long for you to start pushing your cock up Soyou's tight pussy. "Yes, give it to me, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it," she commands as you pump it up her cunt, spreading her ass to take it better. "FUCK THAT PUSSY," she commands, but quickly shows you her strength, matching your thrusts with her bounce.

But you're having none of it and just fuck her even harder. "YES, YES, SLIDE IN AND OUT OF THAT FUCKING PUSSY," she screams. You thrust so hard that your balls reach up to her anal entrance. You grab her ass and attack her pussy like a madman. Soyou answers, trying to ride it again, but all you want to do to her pussy is pound it like there is no tomorrow.

"PLEASE FUCK MY PUSSY, PLEASE, I LOVE GETTING FUCKED LIKE THAT, FUCK, FUCK, AHHHH, AHHHH," Soyou screams as she gets pounded hard. You grab her body and grope her tits. "YES, FUCK THAT LITTLE HOLE," she screams, getting louder each second that passes. "AHHHHH," more screams follow. "IT'S YOUR LITTLE HOLE, USE IT, USE IT, OH MY GOD, FUCK ME," she keeps screaming.

"SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT, BABY, KEEP USING THAT PUSSY," Soyou commands as you turn her body sideways to watch the amazing recoil from her ass at each thrust you give into her cunt. "OH MY GOD THAT FEELS SO GOOD, YES, YES, YES," she moans. The pounding keeps going. "OH SHIT, YES, POUND IT, FUCKING POUND THAT LITTLE PUSSY, GIVE ME THAT FUCKING COCK, YEAH, YEAH, OH FUCK," Soyou commands; the more she screams, the harder you pound her.

Soyou stops a bit to suck your cock like crazy, stuffing it deep down her throat. "I wanna spit all over that microphone," she says. She turns around for another round of riding, this time in reverse. "OH FUCK SLIDE IT IN ME," she says as you attack her pussy from the moment your cock gets back inside it. She spreads her legs to take the pounding better, your cock just hammering her nonstop. "FUCK IT, FUCK IT, FUCK MY LITTLE HOLE, YES, YES, YES," she begs.

You put Soyou's body sideways, groping her big tits as she bounces on your cock. "OH MY GOD IT'S SO FUCKING DEEP, HOLY SHIT," she screams. You bring her hot body close to yours as you just keep pounding, looking her in the eyes as you suck her tits. "You like using my little hole, baby? Your fucking jerkoff hole?" she asks.

"FUCK JERK OFF INSIDE ME, USE ME, USE ME LIKE A FUCKDOLL, YES DON'T STOP, GIVE ME ALL THAT COCK, FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM, AHHHHH," Soyou screams as she gets her cunt obliterated. You spank her ass and keep pushing harder than ever, making her tits jiggle nonstop. "MORE, MORE, MORE, USE ME, POUND MY PUSSY, FUCKING POUND THAT FILTHY CUM DUMPSTER, I'M YOUR FUCKTOY, USE ME TO JERK OFF YOUR COCK," she keeps screaming, her tits becoming just a pair of bouncy pinballs as you show relentless pace.

"I LOVE BEING POUNDED WITH THAT BIG FUCKING COCK. USE THAT SLUTTY HOLE TO JERK OFF YOUR COCK INSIDE ME. YES, YES, GIVE ME MORE, GIVE ME MORE COCK. OHHHHH FUCK ME, STUFF THAT PUSSY WITH THAT COCK. I'M YOUR LITTLE FUCKDOLL, A STUPID FUCK DOLL. PLEASE, KEEP USING MY CUM DUMPSTER." Soyou turns into a screaming mess, uttering dirty words and calling herself a fuckdoll faster than you can thrust inside her pussy.

"Come down," you tell Soyou, getting her back on the floor in a spooning position, keeping the fast pace inside her pussy as you look at her and watch her big tits jiggle with your thrusts. "YES, YES, YES," she approves. "GIVE IT ALL, FUCK ME HARD WITH THAT COCK," she keeps commanding, you doing just as she wants and making her scream even louder.

"OH MY GODDDDDD," Soyou screams as her body bounces uncontrollably with each thrust you give her. Your balls smash against her throbbing clit as you turn her into a fuckdoll. She closes her eyes and screams. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, AH, AH, AH, AH, AH," she screams. You spank her ass. "Stuff that pussy," she begs. You're still going like crazy, making her watch your massive cock bulge under her belly as you grab her legs and make her tits bounce like crazy.

"KEEP FUCKING ME, I'M GONNA CUM, AHHHH, FUCKKKKK," Soyou screams as she has no control of her bouncy tits anymore; they jiggle so hard it feels like they are living beings attached to her hot body. "STROKE THAT COCK IN MY LITTLE PUSSY," she begs, you enjoying her boobs jiggling nonstop. "USE YOUR LITTLE FUCKHOLE, PLEASE, DON'T STOP, AHHHHH," she keeps screaming.

"I need your cock in my ass," Soyou says. "Then spread that ass for me," you tell her as you put her back on all fours, licking her butthole. "Nice and wet, get it ready for that big fat cock," Soyou says as she shakes her ass before you shove your cock up her butt. "Oh yes, slide in my asshole," she commands.

"Oh, fuck, oh yeah, fuck that ass, stretch it out," Soyou says as you fuck her ass on all fours. You grab her waist as she promptly shakes her butt against your crotch. "YES, USE IT, USE IT, USE IT," she commands. "That's your asshole, baby; fucking use it," she continues to command, you doing it just as she asks.

"Fuck me like that, fuck me like that," Soyou commands as she looks at you, your balls clapping against her skin. "Jerk off with that cock in my fat ass," she keeps telling you. "Does it feel good, my big ass wrapped around your cock?" she asks. "Of course," you answer.

"Make me cum with that big dick in my ass," Soyou orders as you keep fucking it with a steady pace. "YES, YES, YES, POUND IT, POUND IT, POUND IT, FUCKING POUND IT, AHHHHH," she screams. You grab her shoulders and then choke her. "FUCK ME HARDER, GIVE ME THAT DICK, GIVE IT TO MY FUCKING ASS, AHHHHH FUCK," she gets louder, losing a little of her breath.

You push harder and mount on top of Soyou. "Get on top of that ass and shove your big cock deep inside it," she commands. You attack her asshole balls deep, much to her delight. "OH YES, DEEP IN MY FUCKING ASSHOLE, OH MY FUCKING GOD, STRETCH THAT FUCKING ASS, FUCK ME JUST LIKE THAT," Soyou screams, watching your balls hit her clit. "I wanna cum for you, AH, AH, AH," she moans, closing her eyes as your cock hits hard and deep inside her ass.

"Get on the floor, you fucking slut," you tell Soyou, and she promptly obliges. You slide your cock in her ass in a spooning position. "Come here," you tell her. "Oh yeah, stuff my ass, destroy it," she says. You grope her tits from behind as you pound her. "GIVE ME THAT BIG FUCKING DICK, USE THAT ASSHOLE, FUCKING USE IT, TAKE IT ALL, POUND MY ASSHOLE, IT'S YOUR JERKOFF HOLE," she commands.

The clapping sounds get louder as you pound Soyou's ass harder and harder. "BALLS DEEP IN MY FUCKING ASS, MAKE ME FUCKING CUM, AH, AH, AH!" she screams. "Open your legs," you tell her, Soyou promptly obliging. "Oh, that's what I wanna see. I love watching you fuck my asshole," she says.

"Stretch it out, stretch it out, pump that big ass with that big fucking cock," Soyou commands as her tits go back to jiggling nonstop. "OH YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she screams. You finger her wet cunt as you pound her ass. "Oh yeah, baby, make my pussy cum," Soyou says as she enjoys it.

"Fuck me good, give it to me, AHHHHHHH," Soyou begs. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SO FUCKING DEEP," she says. You keep pumping Soyou's butt nonstop. "Give it to that asshole, baby; you own it," she says. "Jerk my cock off while I fuck that ass," you command, Soyou grabbing your cock and doing it just as you asked, like the good slut she is. "That's my cock, I love it," Soyou says as she massages your balls. You spread her ass further as she closes her legs down, clapping her cheeks hard. "FUCK THAT ASSHOLE, FUCK IT, FUCK IT, FUCK IT, AHHHHH," she screams.

"Jerk my cock off with your feet before you ride it with your ass," you say to Soyou. She spits on your cock before sliding her feet at blistering speed, pushing you to the edge. "You like those dirty-ass feet sliding up and down your cock?" she asks. "Of course, baby," you say.

"I love milking that cock with my fucking feet," Soyou says. She then drops down and licks your cock from top to bottom. "My dirty ass tastes so good in that cock," she says, circling around in your tip as she sucks your cock, then bobbing her head on it without using her hand, letting you fuck her face. "Stroke it harder," you tell Soyou. "Oh yeah, I'm gonna milk that fucking dick with my hands and throat," she says, jerking it off like crazy.

"I wanna see you bounce on that pole next," you tell Soyou, and she doesn't disappoint, squatting hard on your cock the moment she sits her ass on it. "Oh yeah, make that asshole bounce up and down," she says. You grab her butt, controlling her pace. "Stretch that asshole, asshol"she says, her big butt smashing your hips vigorously at each ride.

You grab Soyou's waist as the floor quakes with her hard riding. "OH YES, YES, YES," she moans. You spank her cheeks as she slows down. "Keep fucking it," you say. "Ohhhh, you're begging for it; you really like that ass bouncing up and down your cock," she says, spreading her cheeks as she continues to bounce.

"AHHHHH FUCK," she screams, twerking hard on your cock as you look at her bouncing boobs right in your face. She grinds hard all over your cock, spinning on your cock as you grab her big tits. "Yeah, baby, use that ass," she commands. You have to stay strong not to cum inside her tight little asshole, Soyou squatting relentlessly on your cock and using it for her little sensual workout as she makes the wooden floor shake with her hard bounces.

Your cock slips out of Soyou's ass, and you decide to tease her, slapping it against her anal entrance. "Put it back where it belongs," she promptly commands, spinning on your cock and shaking on it as soon as she gets it. "Shake it for me, my baby," you tell her. And boy, does Soyou like to shake it. Each bounce pushes you to the edge. "FUCKKKK," she screams. "I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM," she announces as she grinds all over your dick, squirting all over your body.

Soyou gets of your cock for a bit for a little juice tasting, licking your dick and then moving up into your abs to taste her own squirt. "Turn around, I want to see that big ass bouncing," you tell her. Soyou does as you please. "Oh yeah, stuff it back inside me; I want that ass to be full of your cock," she says. "It's all yours," you tell her.

And just as you say, Soyou makes it yours. "Oh, I love grinding on that cock. I love sliding it up and down my asshole, using it like my jerk-off toy," she says. "Keep going, take it all the way down," you tell her. "AHHH, AHHH, AHHH," she screams as she takes it deeper in her butthole. "Oh, that's incredible," you say. Soyou teases a bit, moving her butt laterally as she rides your cock. "Oh, that's so sexy," you say to her.

Soyou takes it slow, giving a little more shake before twerking on your cock as she holds her hands on your legs. "Balls deep in my fucking ass, just as I want it," she says. "Come taste it a bit," you tell her, Soyou pulling your cock out of her butt and sucking it. "Such a dirty bitch," you say to her. "Yes, I'm your dirty, nasty bitch," she says, strongly jerking your cock off.

"I love teasing that cock with my hands, my mouth, my asshole; it doesn't matter which way as long as I make it throb," Soyou says with a big smile on her face. She dives to suck your balls as you stroke your cock. "Keep squatting on that dick, you dirty bitch," you say to her. Soyou follows your instructions, sitting her ass back on your cock and going back to twerking up and down on it.

"OH MY GOD, YOU STRETCH MY ASS SO GOOD," she screams. You push her ass down your shaft, making it bounce even harder. "Keep going, that's so hot," you tell her. "Shake it, baby," you tell her, as Soyou twerking hard on your cock. "I'm your dirty little fucking slut, your ass-shaking whore," she says as she bounces on your cock.

Soyou turns back for another round of cock sucking as she looks you in the eye. "I'm gonna make that dick cum so hard when I'm done using it like my pleasure toy for all my fucking holes," she promises. "You should do it with your tits too," you tell her, Soyou grabbing her big boobs and pressing them against each other.

Soyou spits on your cock as she lets you thrust up her big boobs. "Yes, baby, fuck those big juicy tits," she says, looking at you with sexy eyes. She squeezes your cock further between them. "Yeah, jerk off between my tits, FUCK MY FUCKING TITS," she commands, smiling as she quickly takes control of the titfucking session. "You like that, baby? Your big cock sliding between my big fucking titties?" she asks, moving them even faster around your shaft and giggling.

"Oh my God," you groan as Soyou's titfucking almost makes you cum. She rubs her boobs against your shaft as she lies down, teasing you further, before giving your shaft a few sexy licks from balls to tip. "Fuck, you're such a sexy slut, you know what you deserve?" you ask her.

"Yes, more of that big cock filling my big fucking ass," Soyou says as she gets on the floor for more anal exercises. Her once tight asshole is now heavily gaped. "FUCK YES, YES, YES, YEAH BABY, OH YES, USE THAT ASS, AHHHHH, FUCK ME HARD," she begs as she fingers her pussy. You choke her as you pound her ass relentlessly. "FUCK ME JUST LIKE THAT," Soyou says, losing her breath as you have one hand on her neck and one on her tits.

"Keep going, baby, use my asshole to jerk your cock off, oh yeah," Soyou screams as you attack her butt harder than ever. You grope her tits as you pound her sexy butt. "Stretch me out, stretch me out," she begs. You keep massaging her boobs. "OH YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK THAT ASSHOLE," she screams. You slow down a bit, teasing her. "Oh, just the tip, baby?" she asks before resuming slamming her cheeks.

"Use that asshole some more, make my tits bounce, YES, YES, YES," Soyou screams, her boobs once again turning into pinballs with your hard pounding. "Destroy my ass," she begs, you bringing her legs together and just smashing your cock up her butt. You spank her little ass. "Shake it for me, my baby," you order again, before going absolutely crazy.

"GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE IT TO ME, OH FUCK ME WITH THAT BIG HARD COCK IN MY ASS, SLIDE IN AND OUT OF MY ASSHOLE, YES, YES, FUCK ME, OH SHIT," Soyou turns once again into a screaming mess. "HARDER, HARDER, POUND THAT ASS, YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, AHHHHH," she keeps screaming, your thrusts getting harder and harder. You push yourself to the limit as you choke that stupid fat-ass bitch, just wanting to destroy her like the horny fucktoy she is.

"FUCK MY ASS LIKE IT'S THE LAST ASS YOU'LL EVER FUCK, GIVE IT TO ME, MAKE ME CUM ON THAT COCK, POUND IT HARDER, AHHHH," Soyou screams endlessly. You give it to her as hard as possible. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, SHITTT," she screams as she squirts.

Soyou jerks your cock off hard as she takes a little break to taste her juices. "Oh, fuck," you groan as she sucks your cock and strokes it against her face. She worships your cock and then sits back on it, trying to give you another round of twerking and squatting, but this time you are having none of it.

"OH POUND ME, POUND ME, POUND ME, FUCK THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE, GIVE IT TO ME, POUND THAT ASS, AHHHH, FUCK," Soyou screams as you pump your cock up her ass. "YES, YES, YES, YES, OH MY GOD, JERK OFF IN THAT ASSHOLE, FUCK IT, FUCK IT, FUCK IT, GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE IT TO ME, OHHH SHIT," she keeps screaming as her cheeks get clapped like never before. Soyou tries to answer with some shaking and squatting, you letting her as you use the opportunity to grab her big tits as she shakes and spins on your cock.

"Drain your balls in my ass. I want you to cover it with your warm cum, please baby, milk that cock all over my ass," Soyou commands. These words make you go feral. You grab an exercise ball and bend her over against it. Soyou teases you as she spreads her cheeks, ready for one last round of hard pounding.

Your head is completely empty now. All you can think of is banging Soyou's big ass. It feels as if your brain is now in your cock as you smash her tits against the wall, grab her butt, and hammer her ass like there is no tomorrow. "Yes, spread that ass," she says, ready to get your cock.

"Oh, I love the way you bend me over with your cock deep in my ass. FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, YES, YES, YES, AH, AH, AH," she moans. You pull out, stroke your cock, and drop load after load in her butt cheeks. "Wow, you milked your cock so good in my ass," she says as she looks behind and sees her ass completely painted white.

If it depended on Soyou, she would keep going forever, but suddenly she gets a call from Hyolyn scolding her.

"Soyou, where are you? We are going to have a meeting for the comeback, and you're very late," Hyolyn screams on the phone.

"Sorry, unnie," Soyou answers. "I have to go," she tells you. "No problem, you were amazing today; good luck in your comeback," you tell her.

The weeks go by as Soyou stays focused on Sistar's new comeback. Unsurprisingly, it's a massive success, showing them once again why they are the summer queens. You watched the music video, and all you could think of was how hot Soyou looked in those yoga pants when she was shaking it, bringing you amazing memories of your time with her.

Finally, Soyou texts you.

"We just had an incredible comeback; I want to celebrate with you," she texts.

"And how do you wanna celebrate?" you ask her.

"By shaking my ass in that big fat cock," she replies.

"Well, I have a special surprise for you," you tell her.

You and Soyou meet again. But this time, you're not alone, as you brought one of your friends with you to spice things up.

"Would you like to bounce that big ass on two cocks this time?" you ask her.

"Of course, let's start right now," she answers, taking her clothes off.

[hamilton-here]

𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝐿𝒾𝓃𝑒

Authors Note: Hey Lovelies. I absolutely loved writing this one-shot! I have a whole list of notes with different ideas I will write about and this is one of them. I also had this on PolyBuzz for ages now, though I don’t remember my user🙏🏻. If you would like to see another one like this let me know what subject next. Lots of love xx

Summary: A 24 year old university student falls for her stylish, former F1 champion PE teacher, leading to a secret romance that blossoms into something real, intense and passionate.

Warnings: sexual content, age-gap

Taglist: @nebulastarr @hannibeeblog

MASTERLIST

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

You weren’t expecting much from your third year of university in PE elective. Maybe an easy A, a few stretches in overpriced activewear and a break from the pressure of your dual major.

You signed up for the PE elective thinking it would be an easy credit. A laid back course to balance out the workload of your double major of psychology and sports science with a side of cardio and campus gossip.

What you weren’t expecting?

Lewis Hamilton walking into the gym with a whistle, sunglasses and a clipboard like he owned the place.

You blinked twice.

And yet, there he was. Seven time Formula 1 world champion turned into PE instructor?

When he walked into the university gym on the first day, the temperature in the room seemed to drop and rise all at once. Every student stopped mid conversation, half frozen by disbelief, the other half whispering like they were watching a legend walk across sacred ground.

He moved like someone used to being watched. Poised. Effortless. As if the echoes of roaring crowds still lived in his bloodstream, even now. The rumors had been vague such as a guest lecturer, maybe, or a special one off speaker. But this? A full on semester with him coaching physical exercise?

Apparently, after years on the track, Lewis Hamilton wanted a quieter life. Something grounded. Something real.
And that meant teaching PE to a bunch of sweaty twenty something year olds.

He was every bit as magnetic as he’d looked on your TV growing up. Tall and lean, with sharp cheekbones, brown skin that caught the late morning sun and tattoos that peeked out from under the sleeves of his fitted Nike jacket.

No crumpled tracksuits for him - his were sleek, tailored. Every day brought a new, curated ensemble like black joggers paired with designer sneakers, hoodies that looked hand stitched, subtle flashes of jewelry that made it clear he hadn’t entirely let go of the spotlight.

And he smelled good. Too good for a gym.

You noticed.

Of course you did.

You weren’t blind. And neither were your friends.

“Look at his arms,” Mia whispered beside you on the first day, shielding her phone while sneakily snapping a photo. “Jesus. He’s like, grown grown.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending not to care but yeah. You noticed. How couldn’t you?

Still, you reminded yourself you were here to move. Not flirt.

You might’ve been in the popular group - always tagged in stories, always in the loop but you were different. You were sporty. Smart. Not just another glossed up girl posing for gym selfies. You’d played competitive soccer through high school, trained like you meant it. You didn’t just show up to class, you showed up to work.

And apparently, so did he.

When he started speaking, the room obeyed.

“Some of you think this is going to be a vacation,” Mr. Hamilton said, pacing the gym floor. His voice was smooth, low, commanding in a way that made you instinctively straighten your spine. “It’s not. You’ll work. You’ll sweat. You’ll earn your grade. If that’s not what you signed up for, now’s your chance to walk out.”

No one moved.

Not even you.

Then, just for a beat his eyes landed on you, sharp and quick your pulse jumped but you didn’t look away.

If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

They didn’t linger.

But they didn’t skip past you either.

You didn’t flinch.

You almost smirked.

And you could tell immediately that Lewis wasn’t going to give out praise just because you were good looking or confident. He didn’t care about your friends or your designer gym bag. He cared about form, focus and effort.

You respected that. More than you expected to.

And maybe that’s where it started.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

Weeks passed. The semester picked up rhythm.

He wasn’t just good at teaching, he was intentional. Everything he said had weight and he didn’t waste a single word. He gave feedback without sugarcoating it, kept things moving on schedule, and had this calm authority.

You liked watching him work. The way he moved precise, composed, never hurried. He’d pace the gym floor with a clipboard in one hand, calling out reps, adjusting someone’s stance with a few quick words. His voice always cut through the noise, low and grounded, just commanding enough to silence your thoughts whenever it reached your ears.

Though the tension soon picked up in class.

He was fair but firm. A coach in every sense of the word. Usually relaxed chatting casually with students, correcting stances with a quiet, even tone but when someone slacked off or tried to push back? He didn’t hesitate to shut it down.

Like the time one of the rugby guys made a sexist joke about stretching being “feminine.”

“Do it properly,” Mr. Hamilton said without missing a beat, “Or get out.”

His voice was clipped, cool. Steel under velvet.

No one laughed after that.

You respected him. That’s where it started.

The first time he praised your sprint relay “Good drive phase. Strong finish.” You caught yourself smiling longer than you should’ve. He said it to your form, not your face. But it landed anyway.

You stayed late after class more than once, not intentionally at first. You’d hang back to finish stretching or clean up your area, but more and more, you found yourself hovering. Helping him collect cones. Rolling up mats. Making small talk while everyone else filtered out.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said one afternoon as you grabbed a stack of practice bands from the floor. He was kneeling beside the equipment box, glancing at you from under his lashes.

You shrugged. “Don’t want to go back to my flat yet.”

He looked at you for a moment, lips twitching at the corners like he was holding something back.

“Loud roommates?”

“Louder TikToks,” you said, dragging a mat across the floor.

He huffed a quiet laugh. Just a breath. But it was the first one you’d heard from him.

It did something strange to your chest.

You didn’t know what that was between you but it was something. And that something grew stronger every week.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

After that, things shifted.

Not all at once. Not publicly. But slowly. Silently.

There was never anything inappropriate. No lines crossed. No flirting, not openly.

But the tension lived in the small things.

More banter between reps. More passing glances. A rhythm you weren’t sure you’d imagined.

He never crossed a line. Not even close.

But there were…moments.

When his hand brushed yours a second too long as you passed the medicine ball. When he stood close behind you correcting your squat form, voice low in your ear. “Drop your hips. There. Perfect.”

You felt the heat in your cheeks. You told yourself it was exertion.

It wasn’t.

And it wasn’t just you. You caught him watching you stretch once, his jaw tight, fingers flexing slightly at his sides like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Or the way your eyes would meet during water breaks, neither of you speaking, both of you thinking the same thing.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t one sided.

This shouldn’t feel like this.

You told yourself it was just respect. Admiration. A student teacher thing.

It was unspoken.

But your constant excuse got harder to believe the day it rained.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

It was raining one Thursday evening when you stayed late again. The gym had emptied after circuit drills. The fluorescent lights buzzed above, washing the polished floors in a sterile glow. Outside, the storm pounded the roof in rhythm. A symphony for two.

Your friends had bailed to get early drinks at your usual rooftop bar, but you stayed behind.

You sat on the floor, unlacing your sneakers, hair damp with sweat, limbs heavy but content. You weren’t expecting him to sit down beside you. Not without a word. Just a quiet presence and the sound of his water bottle hitting the floor.

“You’ve improved,” he said eventually, his voice almost drowned by the rain.

You glanced sideways. “Just now noticing?”

He smiled - crooked, warm, maybe even a little shy. “No. I noticed week two. I just wasn’t sure if telling you would go to your head.”

You scoffed, nudging his leg lightly with your foot. “So what, you were playing hard to impress?”

He leaned back on his hands, exhaling slowly. “Something like that.”

Your heart stuttered and for once, you didn’t mask it. Not all the way.

“Why’d you really leave racing?” you asked, curious and a little breathless.

He looked up at the ceiling for a beat. “Too much noise. Too many cameras. I wanted something slower. Simpler.”

You smirked. “And yet you chose a university gym full of twenty year olds.”

He laughed a real one this time. Deep and gravelly. “I said simpler. Not peaceful.”

You grinned. The space between you felt thinner than it had ever been.

And then he looked at you.

Not the casual glance of a teacher to a student. Not even the assessing gaze of a coach to an athlete. But you. The full picture. The smart girl in the popular group. The woman who worked hard, who ran faster, and who watched him right back.

He saw you.

And suddenly, you couldn’t breathe.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled. “I know this can’t be anything.”

You swallowed, your voice soft. “I know.”

“But it feels like something.”

You looked at him then, truly looked and for the first time, you let the guard drop.

“I know that too.”

Neither of you moved. Not that night.

There was no line crossed.

But something passed between you, a current. A silent agreement. Something tender and dangerous and full of potential.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

You told yourself it would fade.

It didn’t.

After that, the tension only grew. You caught him watching you during warmups. He stopped correcting your form when he didn’t need to. You were flawless, and he noticed.

Not when he started saying your name more often in class. Not when you caught him watching you leave, his jaw slightly clenched like he was holding something back.

Not when you went home and dreamed about those quiet moments, that knee bump, that barely there smile.

You didn’t talk about it with anyone.

Some things are too sacred for words.

But when his hand lingered again a week later, when your eyes met across the gym and stayed…you knew.

It wasn’t just you.

He was falling too.

And suddenly, it didn’t matter that he wore sunglasses indoors, or that you once went to a foam party on a Wednesday, or that he was eleven years older with a past carved in gold.

What mattered was this strange, slow blooming thing between you. Something neither of you planned. Something neither of you could name.

But it was real.

And it was yours.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

It started with a message.

Not through the university system. Not through anything official. Just a name you didn’t recognise lighting up your screen one late Friday night, the same time you were pretending not to replay the way Lewis looked at you in the gym that week.

You opened the message. It was short.

Unknown Number:
Don’t answer if this crosses a line. But I’ll be at the park across from the library. Late. Just walking. Just air.

No name. No emoji. Just that.

You stared at it for a long time.

And then you put on your jacket.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

It wasn’t a date.

At least, that’s what you both told yourselves.

You met under the dull glow of a streetlamp near the swings, hood pulled over your head, hair still damp from a late shower. He was leaning against the railing, hands in his pockets, dressed in all black. The kind of outfit that was meant to go unnoticed, but on him? It made you look twice.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

“I didn’t know if you meant it.”

Lewis gave you a look. That same look he wore in the gym which was sharp but soft, unreadable and tender all at once.

He nodded toward the trail. “Walk with me?”

You nodded. And so you did.

You talked about nothing for a while. The uni food. The rain. Your latest lecture. He asked you about your thesis and actually listened. You asked him about life after racing and he paused longer than he needed to before answering.

“It’s slower,” he admitted. “But not easier.”

You looked at him sideways. “You miss it?”

“I miss what it made me feel,” he said honestly. “That rush. That certainty.”

You knew that feeling. You chased it in other ways like grades, sports, control. You recognised the weight of needing to be someone.

“But lately,” he added, voice a little hoarse, “I feel that again. Around you.”

You stopped walking.

So did he.

The silence wrapped around you both like fog. Too much. Too close.

“You shouldn’t say that,” you said, but there was no bite in your voice. Just truth. Just fear.

He stepped closer anyway.

You didn’t move.

“I know,” he murmured.

The wind shifted, blowing leaves past your feet. Your heart thudded in your throat.

His hand brushed your sleeve, just barely. “Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

Instead, your breath hitched.

And then, finally he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy or wild.

It was soft. Slow. Like he’d been thinking about it for weeks and didn’t want to get it wrong. Like his whole body was holding back just enough not to shake.

His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek. You leaned in like your body didn’t know how not to. His lips were warm. Steady. Patient.

But beneath all of it was a current of heat. Of want. Of need.

You broke apart just barely, foreheads resting together, both of you breathless.

“This is crazy,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said again. “But it’s real.”

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

You didn’t meet on campus. Not after that.

Not in the gym. Not in daylight. Not where anyone might ask questions.

Instead, it became your routine.

Once a week, sometimes twice.

Always after dark.

Quiet corners of the city. His car parked down side streets. Rooftop views with late night tea. Conversations in shadows and kisses that grew longer. Deeper.

You told yourself you weren’t dating.

But it felt like you were.

You learned things about him no one else knew anymore. That he still watched old races sometimes when he couldn’t sleep. That he journaled. That his favorite playlist had no rap on it just soul and soft R&B.

He learned things about you too. That you cracked your knuckles when stressed. That your parents divorced when you were twelve. That you were scared of letting people see how much you felt.

And he never made you feel too much. Or too young.

Just seen.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

But secrets have a shelf life.

And emotions don’t like to be hidden.

One night, sitting in the backseat of his car outside your apartment complex, wrapped in his hoodie and curled against his chest, you finally asked it -

“What happens when the semester ends?”

He was quiet for a long time.

Then he said, “I don’t know.”

You lifted your head. “You haven’t thought about it?”

“I think about it too much.”

You didn’t answer. The ache in your chest did.

“I didn’t plan for this,” he said, hand finding yours. “I didn’t expect you.”

“I didn’t expect you,” you whispered.

Your lips met again, slower now. Less urgency. More ache.

There was nothing casual about this anymore.

This was no longer a game. No longer a thrill.

This was something blooming in secret, wild and uncontainable.

You both felt it.

You just didn’t know what to do with it yet.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

But you would.

One night soon, something would shift. A decision would be made. A line would be crossed.

But for now?

You held his hand in the dark.

And let it bloom.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The semester was over, and so was the façade.

There was no denying it now.

You hadn’t seen Lewis for almost a week. You'd both been too busy. Life had its way of pulling you back into the normal rhythms of university, work and friends. But it didn’t stop you from thinking about him, constantly. The messages. The stolen kisses. Those moments when it was just the two of you, hidden from the world and you could pretend for a few minutes that this whatever this was, could be something more than just fleeting.

But tonight, you were here.

His place.

Lewis had texted earlier, just after you’d wrapped up your final exam. It was simple. Short. But you both knew what it meant.

Lewis: “Come by after. I’ll be waiting.”

You’d tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was impossible.

You stood in front of his door now, holding your breath. Nervousness electrified under your skin, not from fear, but from the anticipation of everything that was about to unfold.

You knocked.

Seconds later, the door creaked open. There he was, standing in front of you. His usual confidence, mixed with something softer tonight like he was just as nervous as you were. He gave you a soft smile and a brief look of reassurance before stepping back to let you in.

“Hey,” you whispered.

He didn’t need to say much a he pulled you in immediately, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close, as if the week apart had been too long for either of you to stand.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your hair.

You closed your eyes, trying to take in the warmth of him, the comfort of his embrace. You hadn’t realised how much you needed him, how much his presence grounded you in the chaos of everything else. The world faded to just the two of you, and the rush of emotions surged through you again.

“I missed you, too,” you whispered back.

He pulled away slightly, looking down at you with a tenderness you couldn’t quite comprehend. “You’re sure about this? About us?”

You nodded, heart pounding. You were sure. More than sure.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” you said, voice quiet but firm.

He nodded, his gaze lingering on your lips. Slowly, he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Neither do I,” he said softly, then leaned in.

His lips found yours in an immediate kiss, slow and deep, tasting the longing that had built between you for weeks. You responded instinctively, your hands slipping under his jacket to feel the warmth of his skin beneath. His body pressed into yours and you could feel the electricity that always simmered beneath the surface between you.

When you pulled away, both of you breathless, you didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. The air between you was thick with desire.

Lewis’s hand slid down your back, pulling you closer. He led you to his living room, where dim lights from lamps cast long shadows across the furniture. His place was sparse, but there was something inviting about it. Cozy. A home you could picture yourself in if only the circumstances were different.

He didn’t waste time. His lips were on your neck, his breath warm against your skin as his hands slid up under your shirt, touching you as if he had to remind himself you were real.

“God, you feel…” he trailed off, kissing his way up to your jaw, then back to your lips.

You couldn’t form the words either. You wanted him. Needed him. It was clear now that this whatever it was had moved beyond the stolen moments in the park and in secret corners. You both wanted more. Needed more.

You broke away from him for a moment, catching your breath. “I’ve never done anything like this,” you confessed, hands trembling slightly as you reached for the hem of his shirt.

“I’ve never felt this way,” Lewis admitted, pulling his shirt off and stepping closer. His bare chest, the muscles honed from years of racing, made your breath catch. He was gorgeous, but it wasn’t just his looks it was the way he made you feel.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he added softly, as if reading your mind. But you could feel his own restraint slipping. He wasn’t just waiting for you to make a move he was with you, in this, completely

.

Without another word, you kissed him again, more urgent this time. As if there were no more time to waste.

You guided him toward the couch, your lips never leaving his. He groaned softly as you pushed him back against the cushions, your hands sliding lower, feeling the heat of his body beneath your fingertips.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, his hands slipping under your skirt.

You were too far gone to care about anything else. Your hands worked quickly to undress each other, the tension crackling between you, a fire that could no longer be contained. His kisses grew more frantic, his body pressing up against yours as his hands roamed, seeking to memorize the feel of you.

You didn’t hesitate when you straddled him, your heart pounding as you aligned your hips with his. The moment was perfect, raw and full of desire. You were both past the point of pretending.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, voice a low rasp. His hands rested on your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

“Yes,” you breathed, leaning forward to kiss him again.

His hands were everywhere now on your back, your waist, your thighs. You felt his pulse quicken beneath your hands, the need growing between you with every second.

And then, finally, the world narrowed down to just the two of you. The kiss deepened, his hands guiding you closer to him as he finally pulled you down, filling the space between you with nothing but passion, heat and the promise of something more.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

Afterward, as the silence of the night wrapped around you both, you lay together in the quiet, his arm around you, his breath steady against your skin. You could feel his heartbeat slow, his chest rising and falling against yours.

“What now?” you asked, your voice soft, filled with uncertainty. You weren’t sure what the future held, but in this moment, you knew you didn’t want to let go.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We figure it out. Together.”

And just like that, you knew it wasn’t just about the secret kisses or the stolen moments anymore. It was about this. About finding something real in the space between the lines.

[bookshelf-dust]

soul made of honeybees

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @biillys

word count: 6,418

warnings: brief swearing, mentions of smoking, reader deals with body insecurities/dysmorphia, uses exercise as a punishment, all of the struggles that come with trying to accept oneself

synopsis: on a journey of becoming more active and trying to be happier in yourself, you find billy, who helps you develop a healthier relationship with exercising and shows you that your body should be celebrated for all it does for you.

a/n: well, what do we have here? my creative juices have begun to flow again, and this is the first fic to be born of that particular affair. in my head i’ve set this in the late 80s, maybe early 90s, where i imagine billy still works at the pool during the summers when he’s home from college. this is a situation i’ve found myself in over the past year, and i wanted a chance to explore it in this way and sort through some of my own experiences. i hope you will enjoy it. as always, happy reading! <3

————

Jane Fonda is a fucking fantastic woman. But right now, you hate her. 

She manages to look stunning and effortless with each kick of her legs; while you are sweating profusely, your shorts are up your ass, and your fingers are swollen from overheating. 

You hate exercising in the moment, but once her thirty minute video is over and her group of people in tights and tiny shorts are gone, admittedly you do feel better. Rinsing the sweat from your face, feeling your muscles ache the next day—it brings you some sort of satisfaction. 

Your body likes that you’ve gotten more active. 

But your own hatred for your body was the reason you allowed Jane Fonda into your home to begin with. Sick, right? You know it’s bad, and yet each time you squat, crunch, and press, you can’t stop yourself from wishing you were shaped differently. From looking at the toned and athletic bodies in Miss Fonda’s videos and imagining what it would be like to feel that comfortable in your own skin, to be so graceful and…perfect.

So, you continue to push yourself, in hopes that you’ll become more appealing, that if you keep doing this, there will come a point where you aren’t totally and completely disgusted with the body you’ve been given. 

Because at this point, you’ve truly convinced yourself that you cannot be happy in your body. Even if you have noticed your strength levels increasing and really want to push yourself more. But you won’t let that positivity ring free like the woman on your television always wishes you would. 

“You did a great job!” Jane’s voice rings throughout your living room as the workout video ends, and you scramble for the remote, having had enough of these cheery attitudes for one morning.

You sit back on your hands, stretch out your legs, and try to steady your breath. Your knees have carpet burn, and you can feel sweat dripping down your temples. 

You may be a heaving mess, but you need more. The workouts have gotten easy, and you need something new. 

A woman runs by outside your window in a bright pink leotard and blue jogging shorts, matching pink leg warmers meeting her tennis shoes.

I could try that, you think. Maybe I’d like running. 

You certainly didn’t like it in school, but most of that was the result of shitty phys-ed teachers and the fact that you were never the athlete those instructors wanted you to be. 

You push off the floor and stalk to your room, digging for the sneakers you know are buried in the back of your closet. You have to try this. You need to keep pushing yourself. And if you don’t do it now, with this sudden spark of energy, you probably never will. 

Five minutes. You can run for five minutes. And if you feel like you can after that time is up, you’ll do ten. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you’re tying your shoes, shoving away the thoughts telling you that you’ll definitely not look as cute as that woman on the street or any other woman that goes for a run, their ponytail swaying and their cheeks perfectly pinked. 

But what does it matter? You have to try. You have to be productive and make something out of yourself. You can’t deal with the pulsing, clawing thoughts of self-hatred anymore. Your body has to change.

The only problem is that you haven’t yet realized your mindset must too.

The heat that swallows you up when you step out of your front door is almost enough to send you right back inside. But how disappointed will you be in yourself if you retreat that quickly? 

You let your body begin to walk before your brain can start to argue. Your street doesn’t really have a sidewalk, so you keep to one side as the cyclists and other joggers do, ensuring you won’t be in anyone’s way. Subconsciously, you’re already making yourself smaller even though there’s no one outside to judge you. 

You look down at your watch, noting the time, and start to run. Not as though you’re being chased by a serial killer—or a man—but enough that it counts as a run. Those first few seconds are blissful. You feel like a little kid as the adrenaline spreads through your veins. Like your mom has just called you in because dinner is ready, like you're racing against the sunset so that your feet land inside the door just before the streetlights flick on. 

You forgot what it was like to move your body in this way. To feel this momentary freedom. You make it about three minutes before your side starts to hurt, a telltale sign that you haven’t done this in far too long. The heat is starting to get to you too, but you said you’d go for five, and that’s what you’re doing. 

It’s pitiful, the way you press yourself to the inside of your front door, trying to catch your breath from that little bit of work. Why did it hurt so much more than everything Jane Fonda tells you to do? 

Maybe you’re not meant to be the athletic type. Or maybe I need to eat something, you think. I need to make a plan for myself. That could make it easier. 

You can’t eat with your shirt sticking to your back though, so you strip and turn the shower on, practically jumping under the cool stream of water. But not before you glance at your body in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Your hands find your stomach, eye each stretch mark and bit of cellulite. Each extra-soft spot of skin, every part of you that doesn’t conform to the vision you have in your head. 

You wish that five minute run had fixed everything. That you could magically look like an aerobics instructor and be happy in your own skin. Your eyes fill with tears, and you think for a minute that it could be better to just stop before you get ahead of yourself. What’s the point? You don’t know if you have it in you to wait and see results. And you know you won’t turn into someone else, won’t form a new shape…and then you’re spiraling. You can’t think of a single reason why exercising is worth it.

Because it can be fun. Because it pushes you and makes you stronger. You shove this tiny voice away and let your gaze flick back to the shower, where you’ve completely abandoned your cold sanctuary. You hop in and start scrubbing your hair, trying to think of anything that isn’t your body in that mirror, anything other than how much you looked like a fraud trying to fit in with everyone else. 

————

You continue on this way for a while longer: running in the mornings, doing as many of the Jane Fonda videos as you have access to at work, drinking more water, blah blah blah. One of the perks of working at the library is that you can check out as many tapes as you want. But you’ve done all of Jane’s workouts, and you need more. 

You could swim, but when is the community pool ever not full to the brim during the summer? You could try jazzercise. No. That’s just not for you. You could…go to the gym. 

The pool also has small gyms for both women and men, and you know the men’s one is usually very busy, but most of the women in Hawkins take part in other forms of exercise. And if you went in the mornings…you might have the place to yourself. You might could try and tone up. 

God, this sounds so stupid. 

And your heart rate picks up just thinking about doing this very new and very big and very embarrassing thing, but you want to do it. You’re going to try. 

Hopefully you’ll just go unnoticed. This is a totally normal thing for people to do, right? 

The community pool opens at ten during the week, but the doors to the gyms open at seven. And that’s what time you get there, out of pure fear that you’ll have to interact with another human and make a fool of yourself. But the universe must be looking out for you on this particular morning, because the door is unlocked, and you slip in without any hassle. 

Billy isn’t a morning person. He never has been, but an excuse to get out of his hellhole of a house before anyone else is up to fuck with him? Yeah, he jumped at that opportunity. 

Usually the manager opens the gyms and stays to open the pool during the summer, but he volunteered. Especially because he can usually get in a workout before his shift technically even starts. 

He’ll bench as much as he can without a spot, work on the pull ups he never tells anyone he struggles with. It just feels good to be able to use his muscles and push himself. Billy is proud of what his body can do, what it does for him, how it protects him—and he’s not ashamed to admit that.

His body is one of the only things he has control over, and he’s heard his share of people talking about how vain he is, how he shouldn’t spend so much time doing this or that. But he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s built a body he’s proud of and feels comfortable in, and truthfully he feels like everyone should be comfortable in their body without anyone else pushing them to look another way. 

Billy is leaning against his car, hands tangled in his hair in an effort to tie it up, a cigarette dangling loosely from his full lips when he sees you for the first time. 

He watches you get in your car, bag slung over your shoulder, interested only because he never sees another soul here this early. 

You’re pretty, he thinks. Your hairline shines in the morning sunlight, damp with sweat, your neck the same. Your sports bra peeks through your pale shirt, and one of your slouchy socks is hiked up higher than the other. You’ve clearly just finished working out, but he thinks you look breathtaking. 

There’s something about you. Something light and sweet that he can feel even from this distance, like something is telling him you have a good soul. 

The next time Billy sees you, you come out of the door looking frustrated—he assumes at yourself. He doesn’t want to bother you, but he would like to talk to you at some point. 

You turn around when you go to unlock your car door and lock eyes with him. Your heart stutters at the fact that someone has caught you, probably knows you were exercising. But he is gorgeous. You give him a small smile, and climb into the driver's seat. All you can think on the drive home is that it must be nice to be so effortlessly gorgeous. 

————

You continue on this way for weeks. Close to a month. You workout, you wave and acknowledge one another. This other person who you share this tiny thing with and who you are not judged by. 

On this particular day, you decide to be brave though. You packed a swimsuit, and you’re going to speak to that gorgeous boy and hope he doesn’t get freaked out by you. 

You place your weights back on the rack, the muscles in your thighs pulsing, your arms feeling like jelly. You’ve only worked your way up to the set of fifteens, but that’s something, right? 

You’re sweating, and dread walking outside into the swath of steadily climbing heat and humidity. Your heart pounds at the prospect of speaking to him. 

With your bag over your shoulder, you push open the door and step outside, jumping almost immediately. “Shit!” 

Billy laughs at your reaction, both because he hadn’t expected to frighten you, and because your jolt was pretty entertaining to witness. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I didn’t mean to make you lose your shit, it’s just too hot to stand anywhere without shade.”

You lean against the cool metal door behind you. “Fuck,” you sigh. “My survival skills are clearly not what they should be.”

Billy laughs into his drink, taking a swig from the Coke he bought at the vending machine. 

“You headed out?” he asks, subconsciously fussing with a belt loop. 

“Well, yeah, I was. But um, I was going to ask a favor from you, if that’s okay?” You must sound like a dumbass, speaking to this man for the very first time, only to ask him for something.

“Shoot,” Billy responds.

“Do you think it’d be okay for me to swim a few laps in the pool? I know it’s not open yet, and I haven’t even told you my name, but I promise not to be a bother or anything. I just kind of wanted a chance to swim when there was no one else around, you know?”

Billy finishes his drink and tosses the can in the recycling bin inches from your hip. It lands with a resounding ping. 

You start to think this was a very stupid idea, and that maybe you should’ve just kept yourself at home like always.

“You can totally say no—”

“Yeah, sure I don’t see why not—”

Your words clash together and the both of you start to laugh. You raise your hand, gesturing for him to continue his thought. 

“It’s fine by me if you swim a little. I doubt you’re gonna trash the place.” He grins at you, dimples forming in his cheeks. “I’m Billy, by the way.”

A heat rises up your neck and washes over the tips of your ears. You tell him your name and thank him for letting you bend the rules. 

“Ah, fuck the rules. It’s just a community pool,” he winks, opening up the gate for you and telling you to have at it. 

You’d put your one-piece on underneath your workout clothes this morning, and you try to ignore the prick of shame, even disgust, that you feel having put your body in it as you wade into the pool. 

The water is cool, and as it drenches you, you feel lighter, somehow. You swim out to the deep end and push off the wall with your toes, propelling yourself underwater and kicking for as long as you can go while holding your breath. 

The little girl that still lives within your soul leaps to the surface, giddy with each push off the wall, each stroke of your arms underneath the water. She is excited. Free. 

She isn’t thinking about what your stomach looks like in this swimsuit or how stupid you probably look with your sloppy swimming skills. 

You swim for maybe twenty minutes, or at least until your shoulders are aching. You kick over to the wall, hoisting yourself up just that little bit so you can prop your elbows up on the warming concrete. 

You feel so light here that it almost makes you forget why you came. 

You hear footsteps and Billy appears from around the corner, a fluffy white towel in hand. 

“You getting out? I figured I’d come and make sure you hadn’t drowned.” 

You giggle. The sound makes him smile, pearly white teeth on display. Your eyes are drawn to his, where the summer sun has multiplied his freckles so much that they blanket his nose and the tops of his cheeks, washing over his temples. 

“I appreciate you looking out for my safety,” you say, climbing up the short ladder. Billy holds out a hand to help you steady yourself as you stand. You’re hesitant to take it because you’re all wet, but your hand moves before your mind takes control. “Thank you.” You give him a shy smile.

He grins at you and hands you the towel. You wrap it around your shoulders and follow him back under the awning when he starts walking away. Billy leans up against the cold brick wall and you stand, a little nervously, in front of him, trying to think of what to say. 

“I’ll admit, uh, it’s been nice to see someone else here so early in the mornings.” Billy lets out a huff of a laugh. “I was gonna ask though, why’d you pick this shithole to workout in?”

You pull the damp towel tighter against your torso. “It’s a quiet shithole,” you say. “And this whole exercising thing is pretty new to me, you know? I didn’t want to be somewhere people could see me like that.”

You realize how self-deprecating that comment was, realize you’re being too upfront, and try to quickly cover your ass. “What about you?” you ask, daring to make eye contact just to make sure he’s not disturbed. 

“Well, it came with the job,” he laughs, “and I love working out. Always have. Plus, it might be a shitty place, but the older equipment is a lot better than what newer gyms are using. So it works for me.”

Huh. 

“Oh. Nice.” You chew on your thumbnail. What a fuckup you are. 

Billy tilts his head, trying to encourage your gaze to raise to his. “What just happened?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

You look at him, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair and arms crossed in front of his chest. “It’s nothing…I just don’t really know what to say to someone who enjoys the gym? Who has a positive relationship with it and everything.”

A crease forms between Billy’s brows. “You’ve been crazy consistent with it, but you don’t like it?” He asks you, but based on your body language and how you’ve acted the past month every time you head out, everything adds up and Billy knows the answer before it even leaves your mouth. 

You shake your head, ashamed that you even brought this up. “No,” you laugh nervously. “I hate it. I only started because I’m unhappy with myself? So it’s more of a punishment than something that brings me joy.”

Billy’s chest squeezes at your words. That is exactly why he started working out all those years ago. To make himself stronger because he was ashamed his father had power over him. Because he wasn’t good enough for anyone, so out of anger he made himself more powerful.

But he doesn’t want you to feel that way. You shouldn’t be working out purely to punish yourself for some absurd reason your mind has come up with. 

And even though Billy has had very minimal interactions with you, he likes you. He wouldn’t wish the horrible thoughts he’s had for himself on anyone else, but he gets the feeling you already know. 

“Well, I’m not gonna berate you or nothin.’ But uh, if you ever want help, or want to workout together so it’s not so miserable, let me know alright?”

You smirk at him, hoping to make the situation a bit less awkward. “Are you implying you’re the reason working out would become less miserable?”

Billy laughs, glad to see you’re not totally opposed to the idea of him offering help. “Yeah. But really, you shouldn’t have to hate it y’know? If I can help you figure out not to hate it…I’d like to try. And we could get to know each other better.”

Billy fidgets with the lighter in his pocket. He’s weaned off cigarettes, but he keeps loads of lighters around so he has something to occupy his hands with. If not, it’s usually not a good situation for him to be in. 

Your heart squeezes at the genuine quality in his words. You feel like you’re a lost cause at this point, but there’s a big part of you, the soft and squishy and easily flustered one, that wants to take him up on this offer. 

You nod, wrapping up your towel so you can drop it in the bin and go get changed. “Okay. I’ll think about it, Billy. Promise.”

————

“One more.”

“I can’t, Billy. I told you, I’m not strong enough for this shit.”

You swear when you’re frustrated. Billy has learned that over the past few weeks. 

He crouches, leveling with you. Your knee bounces, the dumbbells in your hands sitting on the tops of your thighs. “Yes, you can. You’re already up to twenty-fives for your presses. Try one more for me and then you can rest a minute.”

Your eyes well with tears that you quickly blink away as you settle back against the bench. This is the point in a workout where you just start to hate yourself. You think it’s pointless, you know you’re body hasn’t changed enough, you feel like total shit—everything just feels fucked.

You use your knees to help lift the dumbbells and slowly lift them to the appropriate height, making sure to protect your shoulders like Billy taught you. You inhale and raise them up. Your arms are shaking, especially your non-dominant one which is really fighting this shoulder press, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to lift them fully until you do. 

“Fuck, yeah!” Billy’s voice reaches your ears just as you’re lowering your arms, completely out of breath. You set the dumbbells on the floor. 

Billy is thrilled for you. He can see the progress you’re making, how much stronger you are and less hesitant to try new exercises.

When you look up at him the expression on your face tells him you are not thrilled. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

You stand and walk over to the mirror that covers one whole wall. You put your hands on your hips and bite the inside of your cheek. “Billy, will you look at me, honestly?” You gesture to your body. “This is the matter. I don’t look any different than the first day I showed up here, do I? Even if I’ve been busting my ass, I’ll just never—”

You stop, rubbing your hands down your face and over your bloodshot eyes. 

“You’ll never what?” Billy locks eyes with you in the mirror. 

You set a hand on your chest, nails digging into your skin. “My body will never be good enough for me. I’ll always look at every other person that walks by, jealous that they have the figure I want and I’ll never have. Why did I have to get stuck with this shit? Why couldn’t I be given a body that I’d be happy with. Life if fucking hard enough, why couldn’t I have this one thing?”

“And you’re just so effortlessly gorgeous, you know that? I wish it was that easy for me, too. It’s just like, why am I even doing this anymore when I know I’ll never look the way other women do? I’m bullshitting myself, aren’t I, Billy? Working out like it’s gonna do anything.”

You exhale and drag your arm across your nose, avoiding Billy’s gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Billy’s tone is firm. “Listen for a second, will you?”

“You are getting stronger. You’re using heavier weights all around. Shit, you’re up to fifty for your deadlifts. Hold your arm up for me—yeah, and squeeze, yep. Look at that.” 

He taps his index and middle finger on your bicep, on the bit of muscle you’ve grown and shape you’ve built. “You are absolutely not bullshitting yourself, you hear me? If anything, you’re bullshitting yourself by thinking you can’t be happy in this body. You don’t have to look like other women. Who the fuck put that idea in your head? I don’t know if you see how I look at you, but I think you’re gorgeous, and I love to see you becoming more comfortable in the movements you do, in your own strength. Your body does so fuckin’ much for you.”

Billy is still keeping eye contact with you in the mirror. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and you swear you sweat more because you know he’s right and you know you are getting stronger but fuck you just can’t believe that. You look at him and you just wish you were that lithe, that comfortable in your own skin. 

“I’m doing this with you—hey, take a deep breath, alright?” He clocks the way you’re shaking out your hands, trying to keep yourself from breaking. Crying. Screaming out of frustration. “I’m doing this with you because I used to be just like this, you hear me?” 

He hates being vulnerable, fucking despises it, but he knows that giving you this information, giving you this little pathway into his life just might save you right now. 

“I worked out all through junior high and high school because I fuckin’ hated myself, and I thought if I could get bigger, if I could make myself look intimidating, then maybe other people wouldn’t treat me like shit. That part worked in some places, but I didn’t like myself any more because I hadn’t sorted through any of my mental shit.”

He says your name. Slowly. You like the way it sounds when he says it, hating the way it sounds when it leaves your own lips. 

“I know we aren’t all that close yet, but I see so much fuckin’ potential in you. I’m not gonna let you suffer with all this shit alone. I know you hate your body, but this is the one you were given, and there’s no point spending so much time destroying yourself over that simple fact.”

You turn around to face him, your hands on the sides of your neck, rubbing as if that will stop the emotion from rising in your throat. It doesn’t work. Billy’s eyes move back and forth between yours, across your face, tracking every change in your expression. He recognizes what you’re doing, trying to suppress all of this. 

“C’mere.”

You go before your mind can fight back. Billy takes you in his arms, tucking your face into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You breathe unsteadily into his skin. You don’t care that he smells like sweat and you smell like sweat and that you’re shaking and tears are slipping from your eyes. His arms are strong, and the feeling of his biceps squeezing you closer, his hands running up and down your back, it makes it all feel like it’s okay. 

“It’s just so fucking hard, Billy,” you mumble, lifting your head up slightly. “It’s not fair. I just want to be pretty and normal and have a body I can accept like everyone else.”

Billy gently touches his index finger just below your chin, coaxing your gaze up to meet his. “I know it is. And I mean it when I say that you are pretty. Honestly, you gotta think about how many ‘pretty’ people there are out there, people who have the bodies the tabloids tell them to have—and are absolute dicks. Hell, that’s how I was in high school.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling that he did get a little joy in you having admitted that, even if it’s not a full on smile. His thumb swipes down your cheek, mopping up the little track left by a tear. 

“Point is, this, what I’m holding right now, is your body. No one else would know it like you do, know how to take care of it, know where each mark has come from or each thing you’ve put it through. Each thing it’s gotten you through. You can accept it, because I’m going to help you get to a point where you can look in the mirror and not shit-talk yourself.”

You pull back a little, pressing the palms of your hands to your face, your elbows slightly poking the top of Billy’s rib cage. “I’m just so scared.”

“I got you, you hear me?” He pulls your shirt away from your collarbones just so it’s not sticking to your skin so much. “You don’t need to be scared. Not with me.”

You nod. And you keep doing that until it feels a little more believable. 

————

Billy can’t stop looking at you. 

And he really needs to focus before he runs off the sidewalk and into the road. 

But for the first time in the few months he’s known you, you look free. You look happy. You look all of these things and you’re running. There’s a baseball cap perched backwards on your head, one of his from forever ago that he lent (gave) you when you mentioned you didn’t have any. 

He can smell the sunscreen you’ve slathered all over yourself, see the sweat dripping down your spine. This is the first time you’ve felt brave enough to go out in just a sports bra and a cropped sweatshirt, bright colored biker shorts covering the tops of your thighs. Your frilly socks make it too, just because it shows how much more comfortable you’ve gotten with doing this. 

It turns out you never hated running. You just needed to do it in a different atmosphere, with different thoughts running through your head. And having a good running partner helps, too. 

“There’s a bench up here if you want to rest a second before we finish,” Billy says through a rather aggressive exhale. You’re glad the sun is setting, because that makes it so much cooler than when you try to run in the morning with the sun beating down on you and seeping into your veins.

You sit down, taking a long drink from your water. Billy crouches on the sidewalk, shaking out his hair and retying the mess of a bun he was wearing. 

“You’re doing so good today,” he tells you, winking at you from his place just a few inches to your left. 

You grin into your water bottle. “How long was that?” you ask. 

He rises and sits down next to you, his arm slung behind your back on the bench. His thumb brushes the shell of your ear, rubs over the little hoop you’re wearing. You watch as he does a little math in his head, checking out where exactly you are. “Little over two miles, bee.” 

Bee. Your heart skips every time he says that. It’s a very new thing, but it sort of slipped out one day, and you’ve loved it ever since. 

“What movie you wanna see this weekend, honeybee? My treat.”

When you’d asked why he chose that name for you, he’d teased at first, telling you it was just because you’re so damn sweet. But really it was a little more sappy than that. 

“Well, you are sweet. And bubbly when you want to be. But think about how much shit those little fuckers get done. How persistent and focused. They’re all cute and fuzzy n’ whatever, but they’re like, badass lil’ things, y’know?” 

Your knee bounces excitedly on the pavement. “Really?” That’s the farthest you’ve run so far. And you didn’t even hate it. You had…fun.

Billy laughs, throwing his head back a little and bearing his neck to you. It shines with sweat and it almost looks like he’s glowing. “Fuck yeah. You’ve been kicking my ass this week. I hate running.”

“But you do it with me,” you say.

“But I do it with you.”

You reach over your shoulder and squeeze his hand. “I like running better when it’s with you. Just for the record.” He squeezes back, lifting your hand up gently to press his lips to it. 

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

A crease forms between your brows as you meet his gaze. “What for?”

“For not giving up.” You start to argue with him, but he continues before you can belittle yourself even the slightest bit. “You’ve kept at this, at trying to get yourself stronger and to try and feel more comfortable in what your body can do. I know you probably still wish you looked like some fuckin’ model or some shit, but I can see how much you’ve eased up, you know?” 

You nod, giving him a small smile. “I do still wish that sometimes. It would be easier. But I’m getting better, I think. I hate to tell you you’re right—,” he shoots you that cocky, prideful grin, “but my body does do a lot for me. I’m starting to accept that it can do a lot for me…” 

You trail off, tapping the toes of your sneakers on the concrete below you. “And I did squat with the bar and those little plates yesterday without a spot.” 

The spot in question was watching you carefully from a few feet away, ready to sprint if you needed help. 

“Yes, you did, bee. You’re kicking ass.” That dimple forms in his cheek, and you know he’s about to say something smart. “Speaking of ass—”

You stand abruptly, turning around quickly so that the area he’s speaking of isn’t directly in his face. You’ve learned he has a staring problem, specifically with that part of you. Not that you mind. Maybe that’s where your pride comes in.

————

The sun has slipped beneath the horizon by the time Billy slips his key into the gate, pulling it securely shut behind him. The first spattering of stars are trying to show in the purple-blue sky. 

The pool is calm, empty, and lit only by the pale bulbs built into it and the two light poles on either side of the patio. 

It was Billy’s idea to sneak in for a late night swim. He thought it would be fun, and he knows you hate swimming in an overcrowded pool. But truthfully, he just wanted to give you another space where you could feel completely without judgment and just exist. 

“What’s the plan here, Billy? I didn’t even think about taking a detour to get a swimsuit.” 

It’s true, you’ve felt so carefree around him that you weren’t overthinking, overanalyzing a scenario like this. You weren’t worried about running inside and finding the most full coverage bathing suit you have because you’re afraid of Billy seeing your body. But right now…you just feel calm. Your body isn’t perfect, but it’s okay if he at least sees your legs. 

Billy is already slipping off his shoes and taking off his shirt. “That’s because the point of this is being spontaneous, bee.” He walks to the far end of the pool and dives in, just in his little running shorts, before you can even blink. 

You’re nervous, just that little bit because this is so different from something you’d usually do, and now you’re just stripping? You’re just living and having a good time? Who the fuck are you?

You step out of your own shorts and pull off your socks. You’re left in your underwear and your little cropped sweatshirt. You register, as you walk down the stairs, that your underwear are blue, and you look just like Lisa from Weird Science. It makes you smile. 

You track Billy’s movements once you're up to your waist and realize he’s heading for you. He squeezes your ankle beneath the water before coming to the surface, a wide grin on his face. His necklace is stuck around his back and on instinct you reach out to straighten it. 

His eyes drag up and down your figure. “Hi, gorgeous.” The low drawl of his voice makes the tips of your ears burn. 

You wade a little deeper into the water, circling behind him. When you’re drenched up to your chest, you splash him. Billy cackles. It is possibly the most joyous sound you’ve ever heard. 

He dives for your waist, hooking an arm around you and swimming off, making you howl with laughter before you have to hold your own breath when he pulls you out deeper than you are tall.

He hoists you up out of the water and gently tosses you to the side, letting you fall into the water on your back. The adrenaline coursing through your veins is magical. 

You keep playing with him, playing, like you’re both kids who’ve never been in a pool before, until you’ve run through most of your energy. You try and teach him a game you played as a child, where one person spreads their legs and your goal is to swim between them without touching their skin, even as they move their legs closer together each time. 

It’s silly, because you inevitably know you’ll touch your opponents legs, but it’s fun. You don’t think about anything else when you do it. He teases you though, trapping you with his calves most times so you automatically lose. 

Now though, you and Billy stand nose to nose, at a depth where you’re not up to your chin so that you can actually speak to him. “This was a really good idea,” you tell him. You push some of his wet hair out of his face and then, rather than pulling away, you set your hands on his shoulders. 

He wraps his arms around your waist. “This okay?” he asks, lowering one arm so he can show you he wants to lift you up. You give him a sweet yes. 

Billy’s hand grips your thigh, coaxing you upward so you can get your legs around his back. You adjust your arms behind his head, him respectfully keeping his hands on the backs of your thighs. He steps back just that little bit more so he can submerge himself further in the water now that you’re held up. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile for this long before,” Billy says. His blue eyes flick back and forth between your own. 

“You’ve given me a lot more reasons to.” Your hand cups his cheek and he swears he could fucking collapse. You’re so gentle with him and Billy never knew he even wanted that. But now he craves it. Craves you. 

That cocky smirk you’ve started to recognize before it even begins makes an appearance. “Yeah? Can I give you one more reason to?”

You hum in agreement, and then Billy is pressing his lips to yours. They’re damp and he tastes a little like chlorine, but…he was right. You smile brilliantly into the kiss, and you’re not sure you stop the rest of the night either. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[the-ace-with-spades]

Carole liked aerobic like all the popular girls in the 80s

She had Jane Fonda's workout tapes and the one special tape with Cher and a couple of tapes with jazzercise with Judi Sheppard Missett and Kathy Smith's sculpturing programs.

She used to go to classes as well, just for the sake of socializing and getting some girl friends whenever they moved, but she stopped for a few years after Goose passed away.

And then she started again. And Bradley was still in his clingy phase and wouldn't let her have five minutes alone at home, so she would tell him to try and 'exercise' with her to distract him

Once she went back to going to group classes, she often didn't have anyone to leave Bradley with for the time being so she'd just take him with her - the ladies all loved him and he'd stay in the front close to the instructor and try to follow as best as he could at the age of six

Now, what Jake discovers twenty or so years later, is that there's a reason Bradley only does strength workouts at the base gym and the cardio at home.

Bradley kept all the tapes

[oracle-of-dream]

Hiiii I really like your work and yes so anyway here goes nothing !

Could you maybe write a top!yeonjun x bttm male reader ?

Where the reader is the 6th member of txt and the plot is up to you (the reader does have a praise kink, tho ... but other than that, I will let you do as you wish ! )

Getting Close

Minors DNI

Summary: You're the 6th member of TXT, a recent addition to the group, and you're having trouble getting comfortable with the members. As the oldest, Yeonjun takes on the job of caring for the newest member...

Warnings: Male Reader, Top!Yeonjun, Blowjobs, Deepthroat, Cum Drinking, Corruption Kink (lowkey)

Wordcount: 1.9k

The day wasn't too bad but you couldn't help but feel exhausted. It was a photoshoot, an interview, and then you had vocal lessons at the end of the day before being released back to the dorm. You did a lot of work with the other members one-on-one and it felt awkward working with them in less than a whole group setting...

At the photo shoot, you had to work with Taehyun. He was so professional and put together, you felt like a stick figure next to the Mona Lisa. You struggled through the shots with him, trying to lean toward him without being so stiff–but his face never gave away how he was feeling... You wondered if we were annoyed by you slowing him down. Then there was the radio interview with Beomgyu. His personality is something... different. You didn't know how to handle his energy or build off him well, so he spoke for most of the interview. The interviewer commented on your silence, asking if you were introverted. You just agreed with their guess so you'd have to speak less, saving yourself more embarrassment than you were already sitting through. You only remember saying "Hello" and "Goodbye".

Your manager had gotten onto you about trying harder to get progressively better with the group but the members were already so close to each other–there was no space for you...

Lastly, vocal lessons with Yeonjun.

You walked into the practice room, ten minutes early to warm up alone. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself in front of Yeonjun–Hybe's prodigy.

You wrapped up your vocal exercises just as the door opened. You stood up and bowed at the door, not looking at who walked in. "Hello," You muttered nervously.

"There's no need to bow, it's just me," Yeonjun said as he stepped into the room. He had a white jacket, a green tank top, and a white beanie. He smirked at you. "What are you being so cute for?"

You sat down, feeling your ears get warmer. "Sorry–I thought you were the instructor."

"I am your instructor today." Yeojun patted your head as he moved past you to the other seat. "The actual teacher couldn't make it so he told me what you'd been working on and asked me to help you."

"Like–together?"

"Yes, together! We're a team now." You'd always practiced alone with the teacher, even recording your debut–alone in the booth. You'd sang in front of fans and the members already, but only songs you'd spent hours and hours practicing. Yeonjun noticed you hesitating. "Are you nervous? I won't judge you, we're a team." Yeonjun emphasized the team by putting his hand on your thigh and shaking it.

"I know we're a team but–"

"No, buts! We're a team. Period. It takes time to adjust, but all the members are here for you–especially me."

You nodded silently. When you were still a trainee, you loved TXT and their songs were always the best to you. Even for monthly evaluation, you'd do a TXT song. Any time you'd hear they were in the building you'd silently hope you'd catch even a glimpse of them while they moved through their day. On the day you were told that you'd be joining TXT instead of debuting in a new group, your heart soared–not realizing it meant you'd have to be with your favorites all the time. The day you were moved into the dorm, the members looked surprised to see you. Apparently, they'd only been told you were coming earlier that day. It was probably unfair to them how they worked from the ground up and you were added in after they'd already poured so much work into their careers. It was tough not to feel like you were riding their coattails–even fans commented on how your spot was undeserved... But Yeonjun's eyes made you forget that horrible pit that had been sitting in your stomach.

You took a chance. After a deep breath, you asked, "How can I get closer to everyone?" Your eyes were wide with wonder.

Yeonjun smiled at you. "You're so cute... Maybe I don't want you to be close to everyone–why not just me?"

"Uhh–"

"I'm kidding, y/n. You should be close to all of us!" Yeonjun slipped his beanie off and shook out his hair. "We'll try taking it one step at a time. We can start getting closer and work together on getting the others in, okay?"

You knew Yeonjun was flirty on camera with the members, but you didn't know he was flirty off camera too. You couldn't tell if he was being serious or if it was just his personality... "Sure, that sounds good."

"That's great. And I've got a great way for us to get close fast." Yeonjun put his hand out to you. "If you want, then we can do it too. All the boys have done it to get closer to each other."

"Just tell me what I need to do." You took Yeonjun's hand. He immediately placed it on his crotch, pressing it against his half-hard cock. You took your hand back, eyes wide. "O-Oh I–"

Yeonjun gently leaned forward, sliding his hand over yours as he gently placed his lips on yours. "Easy. Take it slow," He instructed as he moved your hand again. Right back where he wanted it. His hips rolled into your hand, forcing his bulge to brush between your fingers as his hands cupped your face to hold you in the kiss. His plump lips tasted like strawberries, and his breath was cool and fresh with a hint of mint. When he pulled away, he looked you deep in your eyes. "Okay?"

You nodded. You didn't know what to do, but you knew that you didn't want to fight against it either.

"We're still in the building, so we don't need to get too involved today. Want my hands or my mouth?"

Your brain malfunctioned at his proposition, still trying to process the kiss.

"Cutie, stick with me. If you leave, how can I make you happy?"

"I don't know what to do..." You awkwardly cupped Yeonjun's bulge, feeling his pulse in your hands.

"Did you want to see mine first? That will make it easier." Yeonjun unbuttoned his pants and leaned back. "Go ahead, take them off. You've got me wherever you want me." Yeonjun's voice was a little deeper and softer, almost whispering. His eyes glazed over as he looked at you, waiting for you to do something. Following his lead, you tug at his pants–opening them enough to show his underwear. "Good boy, now the rest," Yeonjun cooed.

"Are you sure?" You asked for confirmation, but your eyes were still glued to his bulge. Yeonjun knew he had you.

"Only if you want it. I won't force you." Yeonjun started to zip his pants up when you stopped him.

"No! I–We should be closer because we're a team."

He nodded. "Now you're getting it, you're a part of my team. And everyone on the team does this. We can't date, and bringing people home is problematic, so we take care of each other's needs..." He stroked your ear. "Can you take care of me? Or do you need me to take care of you first?" He placed his hand on your knee, slowly sliding it up your thigh watching your expression for discomfort. You moved to the edge of your seat, matching Yeonjun, forcing his hand to touch you. "At the same time, then?"

You nodded as you slipped your hand into Yeonjun's underwear. He did the same, slender fingers dipping past your waistband. His cock's tip peaked out from his boxers and as you stroked him, it stretched further out until he slid his underwear down enough for all of him to stand proudly. Maybe you felt too shy, but you stopped Yeonjun from taking off your underwear.

"Okay, keep them on. I can still touch you like this..." While still stroking your cock, Yeonjun kissed you, squeezing your member every few moves to make you flinch.

You copied him, matching his pace and pattern.

"Oh, an observant boy? I expected you to be more playful like Beomgyu..." Yeonjun chuckled as he kissed your nose. "Can I have more, please?" He stood up, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you seated. His cock, dripping with precum, pointed at you. "Can you suck it, please?" The way he said please make your cock twitch. He wasn't begging, it was more like a strong suggestion. He didn't want to force you to suck his dick, but he really wanted you to do it.

"I can," You said shyly as you leaned forward.

"Thank you, baby. Take your time with it, there's no rush." Yeonjun rubbed your head, letting his hand rest on you as you opened your mouth. You instinctually closed your eyes as you wrapped your lips around him. The feeling of his eyes watching you work was too much, you couldn't look back at him. Your tongue made the first move, swirling around the tip. Yeonjun's moans encouraged you, showing how he enjoyed it. You slowly sank deeper, using your hands to stroke the part that you couldn't cover. "Don't push yourself," Yeonjun moaned. You understood he was trying to be kind, but it made you want to push yourself hearing him be so patient for you. You bobbed your head, moving lower each time until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. "Jeez, you're so good. It's so deep in there..." His hand that was resting on your head mixed itself in your hair, making you more excited. You deepthroated him, gagging and gurgling on him, making so much noise. "Y/n, p-please, don't hurt yourself. I–fuck," Yeonjun tried to speak but you didn't give him any time to breathe.

You hollow your cheeks, taking him completely.

Yeonjun's eyes bulged as his knees buckled. "I'm cumming, m'cumming! Stop!" He tried to push you off him, even pulling your hair slightly, but you didn't budge as you held him inside your mouth. Yeonjun realized what you wanted and stopped pushing, instead pushing you down. "F-Fine, then drink it all if you want."

You felt his warm cum shooting straight down your throat, his cock pulsing and twitching as his hips rolled his pelvis into your face. Your nose scraped against his stomach a few times and your eyes rolled back–finally opening.

"Such a good boy, so good. The best!" Yeonjun moaned praises repeatedly until you slid him out of your mouth. His knees finally collapsed and dropped him back into his seat. He breathed heavily to catch his breath. "You didn't need to do so much... for me..."

You wiped a few tears out of your eyes. "I wanted to. I liked it. Hearing you tell me how good I did..."

"Oh?" Yeonjun smirked. "Then I'll tell you when you're doing a good job every time. And I'll make sure the others will too."

"The others?"

"Yeah. After today, they'll want to get close to you too..." Yeonjun kissed your cheek. "But remember who's your favorite. And don't forget I was your first in the group."

You nodded, a plush on your cheeks as you cleaned up your own mess. You hadn't even realized you'd stoked yourself to completion while sucking off your bandmate...

[luna-moons]

As the day begins, Class 1-A files into their classroom, their teacher not yet arrived. They begin chatting amongst themselves, curious about the announcement Mr. Aizawa had made the day before.

“I wonder who the new teacher is,” Midoriya said, flipping through his notebook. “Mr. Aizawa didn’t say much about them. Is it someone we know?”

Bakugo snorted in response, rolling his eyes with a huff, “Who cares? As long as they don’t slow us down, I’m fine with it.”

“Maybe they’ll be cool!” Kaminari added, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “A new teacher means new training, right? I’m ready to show off my stuff, and being separated will give us more one-on-one!”

“Keep dreaming,” Kirishima laughed, elbowing Kaminari in the side. “A new teacher means a chance to learn more. Gotta be positive, right?” he adds pointedly to Bakugou with a bright smile.

Just as the conversation heated up with everyone giving their own opinion on the upcoming change, the door slid open, and Aizawa walked in, his usual tired expression on his face. But this time, he wasn’t alone.

The students immediately fell silent, eyes on the newcomer standing beside their teacher.

“Class, this is Y/N,” Aizawa said, his voice steady but not without the usual gruffness. “They’ll be joining us today to help split the class for one-on-one training. From now on, they’ll be working alongside me to make sure you all get the attention you need, you probably know her as the number 4 hero, Loaded Dice.”

The students blinked in surprise as they sized you up. You weren’t exactly a stranger— They’d all seen you on the tv and even again when you helped with the battle to save Bakugou from the League, some of the more observant students might’ve noticed the familiarity between the two of you. But they couldn’t shake the curiosity about this new teacher, and why such a highly ranked hero was now a teacher.

You smiled softly at the students, a warm but confident presence. “It’s nice to meet you all. I know Mr. Aizawa has been working hard to make sure each of you gets the right training, so I’ll be here to help with that,” you said, voice steady but kind. “I’ll be taking on a smaller group to give you all more one-on-one time with your instructors.”

Some of the students were still looking a little unsure, but the reassurance in your tone seemed to settle their nerves.

“Good,” Aizawa grunted, his expression softening just a little as he glanced over at you. “Now, she will be splitting the class. We’ve already planned out the groupings, so we’ll start today with some basic exercises like usual.”

The students’ chatter picked up again, but now there was more excitement in the air. They had questions—who would be working with who, what kinds of new training they could expect, and, most importantly, who you were as a teacher.

You could feel the weight of their gazes, the curiosity—and in some of them, a bit of skepticism—but you were excited to be in a classroom with young heroes eager to prove themselves. You glanced at Aizawa for a moment, who gave you a silent, almost imperceptible nod, as if giving you permission to handle the situation your own way.

For a moment, you were reminded of when you and Aizawa were both students here at U.A. The two of you had faced challenges together, from grueling exams to the internal struggles of training to be heroes. Back then, you were inseparable—partners in crime, always ready to support each other.

Now, it was a different kind of partnership. And while the students looked up to you both, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in the air between you and Aizawa. You were still figuring out how to navigate this new dynamic, as colleagues rather than friends.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of groupings, adjustments, and adjustments again as you and Aizawa worked together to balance the class and ensure everyone received the proper attention. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded—dividing your teaching styles, managing the group dynamics, and figuring out the most effective way to train each student individually—but it was a challenge you were both willing to take on.

After the students had been dismissed for the day, you found yourself alone with Aizawa in the teacher’s lounge. The room was quiet, save for the sound of distant footsteps and the hum of the overhead lights.

You collapsed into a chair, exhausted. “That was… intense. They’re all so different, but I think we’re getting the hang of it.”

Aizawa, who had been leaning against the counter, watched you with his usual tired gaze. “They’ll adjust. It’ll take time, but they’ll get used to it. You did well today.”

You smiled warmly at the compliment, though you noticed how Aizawa seemed to be avoiding eye contact, fiddling with his coffee cup. You could feel the distance between you, a weight that had grown over the years despite your shared history.

“I guess we’ll have to do this more often now, you said this was a permanent change right?” you said, breaking the silence. “I don’t mind the challenge. It’s just… strange, isn’t it? Working with you like this, i’ve barely seen you since graduation...”

Aizawa’s tired eyes finally met yours. There was something soft in his expression, a trace of familiarity that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Yeah,” he murmured, leaning forward slightly. “It’s different… but it’s not bad.”

For a brief moment, there was silence between you, and in that quiet, you both felt the pull of something unspoken—something that had been there for years but never fully acknowledged.

“I’ve missed this,” Aizawa admitted quietly, almost too soft to hear. “Having you around. Not just as a colleague, but… as someone who gets it.”

You looked at him, the weight of his words sinking in. You’d both grown up together, but now, the lines between friendship and something more were starting to blur.

“You’ve always had a way of saying things without really saying them,” you teased softly, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

Aizawa gave you a small, genuine smile—a rare, fleeting moment of softness.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost introspective. “Maybe it’s time I say more.”

“I missed this Sho… We were so close when we went here..” You say softly, legs tucked up in the chair, knees to your chest as you fiddled with the rim of your cup of coffee.

He glances up from his own cup, meeting your gaze, his eyes softening as he stares at you.

“I’ve missed this too, i’m glad we could convince you to come back here.. i know it can’t be easy, not only doing hero work full time but now teaching?” He says softly.

“Yeah.. but it’s not like i’ve stopped being a hero yaknow? i just have two full time jobs now. But it’s worth it.” You answer softly, a warm smile blossoming on your lips.

The air in the teacher’s lounge was thick with the weight of unspoken words. You could feel the shift between the two of you, how it was no longer just a conversation between colleagues, but something more—something that neither of you had fully acknowledged until now. You pulled your legs closer to your chest, your eyes drifting down to your coffee cup as you tried to steady your thoughts.

Aizawa watched you for a moment, his tired eyes softening as they took in the subtle way you curled in on yourself, trying to regain composure. You’d always been a little guarded, always keeping something hidden behind your calm demeanor, but now, after all these years, he could still see the little things that gave you away—the way you fiddled with your cup, the faint nervousness in your voice when you spoke about your life as a hero and a teacher.

“I know it can’t be easy,” Aizawa continued softly, his voice carrying a certain tenderness that wasn’t often heard. “Doing both… I mean, being a full-time hero and then teaching? I don’t know how you do it.”

You smiled, the warmth of his words reaching you more than you expected. “It’s a balancing act,” you said with a shrug, leaning back in your chair. “But it’s worth it. I’ve always wanted to help kids like we were, back when we were here. Besides, it’s a chance to give back to the next generation.”

Aizawa didn’t respond immediately. His gaze dropped to his coffee cup again, and you noticed how his fingers curled around the mug, the faintest sign of tension. You had known him for so long—his stoic, calm demeanor was second nature to him, but it didn’t mean he didn’t care deeply about the things that mattered. You had always been able to read him, even when he was reluctant to show it.

“I’m glad you came back,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost like he was unsure of what to say next. “It’s been… a long time, since we were at U.A. together. I’m glad you’re here to help the kids. And… help me.”

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the honesty in his eyes. “It feels good to be here again. Even if it’s not exactly how I imagined it. We were always a team back then, right?” you said with a soft laugh, trying to ease the tension, but the smile on your face was gentle, sincere.

Aizawa’s expression softened further, and for a moment, you saw the flicker of something more in his gaze. Something vulnerable, something that had been buried under the years of teaching and hero work.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice lowering, “We were a team.” He took a small, deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I guess… I’ve missed having you around more than I let on.”

The words hung in the air, and you felt your heart race as they settled between you. Aizawa, always so guarded, never one to openly express his emotions, was finally admitting something that you had long suspected. You shifted slightly in your seat, suddenly feeling a little more exposed. Your chest tightened, but you found it difficult to look away.

“I’ve missed you too, Sho,” you said softly, the name slipping from your lips without hesitation. It felt natural, like it always had when you two were younger. “We were so close back then. It’s strange, isn’t it? How everything’s changed.”

Aizawa looked at you then, really looked at you, as though he were trying to piece together the time that had passed between you, the years of distance, the years of silence. His gaze was searching, almost as though he were looking for something in your eyes, something you had kept hidden for so long.

“I thought about it,” he said slowly, his voice growing even softer, “How things were… how easy it was to talk back then. How easy it was to just be around you. I didn’t think it would take this long to get back to it, but… I’m glad we’re here now.”

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, trying to deflect some of the intensity in the room. “You always were a man of few words, Aizawa,” you teased gently, though your voice shook ever so slightly. “But I get what you mean. I think it’s been a long time for both of us.”

He shifted slightly, the movement so subtle it could’ve been overlooked if you weren’t so tuned in to him. His eyes flicked to the door as though he were contemplating something—maybe the lateness of the hour, maybe the feeling of this conversation hanging in the air—but then he sighed, a quiet, almost resigned sound.

“It’s not like I haven’t noticed, you know,” Aizawa continued, finally breaking the silence that had enveloped the room. “You’ve always been able to balance everything, even when you didn’t have to. Hero work, teaching… and still somehow finding time for the people you care about.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words, and for a moment, the air felt thick with emotions both old and new. You opened your mouth to say something, but Aizawa cut you off with a slight shake of his head.

“I’m not good at saying these things, but… I’ve always cared about you. And not just as a colleague. I think I’ve always felt something more.”

The honesty in his words hit you harder than you anticipated. You felt a warmth spreading through your chest, the realization that the quiet, gruff Aizawa had been hiding this part of himself for so long. But now, in this small, quiet space, you could finally see it.

Without thinking, you reached over and placed your hand on his, the contact simple but grounding. Aizawa tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed, his fingers brushing gently against yours as though testing the waters.

“I’ve felt it too, Sho,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve always known… we’ve just never been ready for it.”

There was a long pause between you, as if both of you were silently processing the shift that had occurred between you. The walls that had stood between you for so long now felt fragile, maybe even unnecessary.

Aizawa let out a deep breath, his fingers tightening around yours for a moment before releasing. He glanced at you with a look of quiet understanding.

“Maybe it’s time we stopped pretending we don’t feel it,” he said, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a mixture of relief and something new, something exciting blossoming between you both.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “Maybe it is.”

I hope you guys liked it? i’m not sure how good it is but i wanted to do a cute little one shot!

[snapthistiger]

exercise 05202025

bike ride to the gym

worked lifeguard job 445a to 730a

3 x 10 lat pull

3 x 6 dips

3 x 10 tricep press

3 x 10 row

3 x 10 overhead press

45 minute spin class

6 x 5 seated press

bike ride to home

the gym workers received Reese eggs

exercise and spin class were great. instructor has us using even heavier weights during spin class. previously i was using 5 lb and then 8lb and then 10lb and now 12lb.

work was ok. one of my coworkers was a couple of minutes late and then went to the bathroom and i couldn't leave until he returned 30 minutes later. frustrating.

top left = 12lb weights for spin class

middle = good group in spin class

bottom = Peanut has been super affectionate lately

i opened my parents' estate account at the bank

met with realtor at my parents' house this afternoon

hope you have a peaceful afternoon and evening..

[wellnesgreen]

Becoming a Certified Personal Trainer can prove to be an immensely fulfilling and gratifying career pathway, particularly for individuals who harbor a fervent ardor for all things related to fitness and have a deep-seated aspiration to assist others in attaining their paramount health objectives. Whether you have already established yourself as a dedicated patron of fitness establishments, yearning to metamorphose your heartfelt enthusiasm into a bona fide profession, or whether you are an individual replete with a profound wish to positively impact people's lives through the prism of health and wellness, the following comprehensive and meticulously crafted step by step guide is poised to serve as your unwavering beacon, expertly shepherding you through the intricacies of the journey towards acquiring the illustrious and esteemed title of a Certified Personal Trainer.

[nabiracha]

Sasaeng or Idol?

I erased the last half and re-did it like three times... I think it turned out the best it could without sounding like a 2016 wattpad, but who knows...Anyways, this is chapter 1. When speaking in first person it's y/ns POV, but it changes once in this chapter.

Warnings: Some suggestive themes, slight stalking, weight talk, obsession...etc.

“Do we need to put you on another diet?” Who the fuck do they think they are? Talking to my members like that? Ugh, if I didn’t care about mine or their reputation this stupid fucking rat (Literally) would have a bloody face and tears streaming down his face. Bunny hybrids have many different sides, we’re not all sweet.

Nina looked down, head hung low in shame. She was perfect weight, if you took in her height and such. She looked perfect in my eyes, why the hell did she need to go on a diet? I knew she wasn’t gonna speak, so I would. “No, I’ll control her meal intake and regular exercise just fine.” No I wouldn't.

The dance instructor sighed. It wasn’t even his place to be talking, he wasn’t our fucking manager. “Everybody take a break.” We all headed towards the couch or laid on the floor. Nobody was in a good mood this morning. Why? Because apparently we were supposed to go on tour in two months. TWO MONTHS?? What the hell were they thinking, stupid fucking managers. God I really was pissy today.

Once dance practice was over, we had vocal lessons, recording sessions, and one last dance practice before we finally got back to the dorm. There were four of us in total, me, Nina, Hee-min, and Na-yang. Our group name was aeternum, latin for forever. We had decided that because we had all been trainees together and debuted together, so we planned to stay together forever. Even if we disbanded, which didn’t look like it’d be soon.

My phone chimed, my eyes darting around to make sure none of the staff were looking. I gained a new follower on my…secret account. It was bunnyneverbully, a quote Hee-min once said about me, a few months after we started getting big, during an interview. Our fans, who’s name was Simul, latin for together (Simul in aeternum=together forever), called me bunny because I was a bunny hybrid.

My eyebrows furrowed, but I didn’t suspect anything. The profile picture was just a pair of wolf ears, no face or anything. The username was CB97, which was a little suspicious but I just pushed it aside as my exhaustion making me paranoid. I didn’t have many posts, just a few drabbles about random things, no specific people or names. I also had a few fit pics on there. 

I shut my phone as a staff came into the dorm, they liked to bust in (cause they can’t bust a nut) anytime they like. Had to always be careful. I was currently sitting on the couch in our dorm living room, my eyebrows furrowing in a silent question at the staff. “Where’s Hee-min?” The cat hybrid spoke with so much sass you’d think they were on their period, but it’s a male. “Upstairs, why?” “She’s fucking late for hair.” I sighed. As much as I try to remind my members, as their leader, that they need to do their shit before sleeping, they never listened. So I let the staff storm up there. They, well he, Ni-rang, was one of the only who didn’t seem to want to starve or abuse us. It’s the only reason I didn’t go up there with him. He was loud though.

A few days later…

Ping. I groaned, slamming my hand on my phone to grab it. My ears twitched at the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen. “Na-yang!” I knew it was her, the cow hybrid was always breaking something. I loved her to death though. I heard a quiet sorry, it didn’t sound like she was hurt so i let it be. I sat up, hair an absolute mess. Kind of like a ball of yarn after a cat’s played with it. 

The ping followed by six more pings. Seven new followers. That wasn’t counting the one a few days ago. My eyebrows furrowed and that suspicious feeling gnawed at me again. Just like the first one, they had oddly specific names that were too good to be made up just like mine wasn’t made up and the profile picture was what I assumed to be their ears.

—🔹—🔹—

Listen, he didn’t mean for the other’s to find out. But he was truly terrible at lying. Like seriously, unless it was life or death, he couldn’t lie. So when Jeongin peeked over his shoulder, Chan had moved his phone a little too fast, it made Jeongin suspicious. He told the others and after the course of a few days and a couple blowjobs, and maybe a fucking or two, the boys had cracked their leader. 

“I don’t even know her face! She just seems so cute and innocent and- and-” He was cut off by Minho’s glare. “Shut it. We know your lies, we see right through you.” Any other time and It would’ve seemed playful, but it wasn’t. Chan growled, rolling his eyes. He knew he couldn’t lie to them. He hated it. “It’s y/n.” 

They all had a silent obsession over the girl. She seemed…well, they couldn’t describe it. They were all a little twisted in their own ways, maybe she was too. Or maybe, they’d make her twisted like them. Unlock something hidden beneath those brown eyes.

They all followed her account immediately after, not caring if it was suspicious. They stalked her account, going through all the photos, all the little drabbles about no one she posted. They just from that, she was twisted underneath that heart of pink. They were determined to unlock it, to reveal and break every one of her walls, good and bad. 

“He slid his cock into her, slick coating her thighs as she…” Han’s face turned crimson at his big, round cheeks as his tail twitched. He couldn’t even finish his sentence. The things she wrote were…less than holy. Sex scenes, stalking, kidnapping, cnc, all types of shit. She gave the characters twisted backgrounds and terrible habits. But it was all…nameless.

“Shit, chan, you see this?” Said man sighed, a little annoyed he had to share his possession, well soon-to-be possession, with members so soon. He would’ve, eventually, they all knew that. But none of the other boys were patient when it came to y/n. And they never will be. She was theirs. She just didn’t know it yet. “Yeah, Ji, I saw it.” It only further implanted the seed she had sprung just by making eye-contact with them in the elevator by accident. She had fucked herself over, whether for better or worse, she was in for it. And she had no idea what she’d done.

[sgtgrunt0331-3]

Sgt. Taylor Mathis, a service level training instructor with Tactical Training and Exercise Control Group, coaches Marines during Integrated Training Exercise 4-24 at Range 400, MCAGCC, Twentynine Palms, California, June 21, 2024.

(Photo by Lance Cpl. Richard PerezGarcia)