#lift those weights so you can lift up your bros

[egophiliac]

I love how square your Leona is! Have you ever tried drawing him with wavy hair? Seems like it would suit your style more

thank you! 💛 I don't know why, but for some reason this was the first thing that came to mind:

[rebelfell]

writing about going to the gym instead of actually going still counts…right? 2k 18+, MDNI

eddie munson x fem!reader (implied plus-size)

The gym at Eddie’s new apartment complex wasn’t so bad. 

It had just undergone a big renovation by the time he moved in, so it still smelled faintly of paint and some of the machines had that protective plastic film over the monitors. It was on the small side, but had enough room for a row of treadmills and ellipticals that faced a big window, looking out on the grassy knoll of the courtyard behind the leasing office. 

Eddie never went on them, though. He was mostly there for the weights, following the regime Steve had put him on a couple months prior. It wasn’t as rigorous as the one his friend followed, but it was demanding enough that Eddie needed an occasional break, elbows resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath and pushed sweaty tendrils of hair from his face.

His shirt was old and ratty with the cutoff sleeves and drooping armholes stretched far beyond their natural elasticity. Truthfully, it did make him look a little douchey. But he also kind of liked the way it showed off his arms, the edges of the tattoos on his ribcage, the tops of his obliques.  

Especially now that he actually has obliques.

He’s not yet worked his way up to the full-blown gym-bro attire Steve wears when he’s posting his little thirst traps all over Instagram. The videos are the worst—him planking shirtless or flexing his biceps as he curls a weight or swinging weird giant ropes with his arms.

Eddie’s only filmed himself lifting a few times now. Partly because Steve keeps demanding he send him videos so he can “check his form” but also because…he just looks good, okay? 

He never dreamed he’d be the type. Aside from a (very) brief skateboarding phase, his main source of exercise when he was growing up was running from local law enforcement. 

Now here he was lifting three days a week, considering adding a fourth.

He was still slacking on cardio—the smoker’s lung capacity really hindered him there. But Steve had suggested they try boxing, and a free pass to hit Harrington certainly held some appeal…

Eddie found he actually kind of liked the gym now. It was quiet and peaceful. It gave him an hour or so to turn his brain off and focus on nothing but counting sets or reps. He felt good when he walked back to his place a little sweaty and sore, feeling like he’d done something.

And he liked it especially when you showed up.

He’d seen you a few times around already, mostly walking with your dog. Or dogs, rather. By his count there were a couple different ones. 

There was a Corgi who would stomp his stubby little legs like he was mad at the concrete; and a border collie you liked to take to the dog park and toss a frisbee for him to catch; and an elderly chihuahua he often saw you lift into your arms and carry for the end of his walk when he grew tired and looked up at you sadly with those big, pleading eyes. You were powerless.

Spotting you out and about whenever Eddie was going to get his mail, or taking a walk to stretch his legs after sitting at his computer too long, catching a glimpse of you from his balcony when he sat out there in the morning or evening, had started to become the highlight of his day.

He still had yet to, you know, talk to you.

If he ever had the fortune of walking past while you were out, his words immediately failed. And he couldn’t even count now the number of times he’d walked past the dog park while you were there and wished desperately he had a dog just so he had an excuse to go in and talk to you.

He wondered, regretfully, if you could tell he was a cat guy just seeing the smattering of light hairs all his black clothes attracted like a magnet.

But now you were here. Physically present in the same room as him. Close enough for him to reach out and wrap his hands around you. Looking so fucking delectable in your workout clothes.

Your shape was mostly concealed by a baggy hoodie that just barely covered the roundness of your ass and skimmed the tops of your thick thighs—both of which were only accentuated by the tightness of your black Lycra shorts.

He might have dredged up the nerve to finally say something—even a meekly muttered “hi” would have been an improvement on the nothing he’d been slinging. But your headphones were resting snugly over your ears and he generally took that as a firm sign not to bother people.

They were nice ones, he noted. Not a pair of the obscenely expensive Apple ones Steve liked to wax poetically about, but you’d probably sunk a decent amount into them for the sound quality.

 Or maybe they were a gift from your boyfriend, Eddie thought bitterly.

You smiled at him as you passed, giving a little wave that almost made him drop the weight in his hand. Honestly, a broken toe would have been worth it. He tries not to ogle you, honest he does. But he can see you in the mirror as you step up onto the treadmill directly behind him, despite every single one of them being free. All he has to do is tip his head slightly to the side and his view is pristine. He won’t stare, though.

He won’t, he won’t, he won’t.

At least not anymore…

He did his best to concentrate on his workout as you got yourself situated. Absently, he wondered if you were here because you thought you needed to be, and he really hoped that wasn’t the case. Because from where he was sitting, there wasn’t a goddamn thing on your body that needed any improvement.

You don’t seem to be taking it too seriously, though. Starting out at a slow walk, flicking through your phone to choose your music as you amble along. Eventually you must settle on something and set it down before you start to hike up the incline on your machine. 

He figures out pretty quickly you're doing one of those “strut” workouts he’s seen floating around, where you increase your speed with the switch of each song.

Except you’re doing more than strutting—you’re performing.

It’s subtle at first. You start out simply walking at a steady pace, but then he catches a couple motions of your arms, a few flips of your head that send your hair flying. In the reflection of your face on the window he can see you’re lip syncing along to the song, your closed fist becoming a microphone for what looks like a long belt.

He bites back his own smile as he watches you, his eyes drawn to your shape in the mirror over and over. It makes him forget what rep he’s on every time, his workout little more than a charade at this point.

As your pace increases, your breathing gets harder and sweat starts to slicken your brow. You pause just long enough to pull off your sweatshirt and drape it over the guard rail. It drags up the bottom of your shirt, revealing a flash of your bare back that sends Eddie reeling. 

He can’t help but imagine himself flush behind you, kissing down the delicate curve of your spine, gripping desperately at the meat of your hips and ass, molding them with his hands as he thrusts with abandon and the fronts of his thighs slap wet against the backs of yours. He would beg you to let him go down on you just like this—breathing in the smell of your musk and sweat, tugging down those shorts to bury his face between your thighs until they were trembling like his did on leg day, brushing off your complaints about being too gross or dirty.

He’d show you what dirty really was. 

Eddie jolts as the dumbbell he’s holding slips from his clammy palm and he just barely moves his foot in time. It hits the ground with a dull thud, but if you notice you don’t give any indication.

Ears buzzing now, shame radiating at the back of his neck, he set the weight back on the rack and dropped to the floor, twisting into something resembling a yoga pose he saw Nancy post once. The temptation to get on the treadmill next to you is so strong, but he’s afraid it might make you too self-conscious to keep going with your little show.

Plus, he’d probably end up tripping over his own feet and face planting on the machine. Kinda tough to put the moves on a girl when you’ve got a smashed face that’s bleeding like a faucet.

Instead, he drags out his stretching, hoping he can time it right so it won’t seem too weird if he leaves the same time you do. He’s already stayed longer than he normally does, but the promise of finally getting to talk to you is too enticing.

If he was a smarter man, he might have tried thinking of something to actually say if he got the chance, but that’s a whole other issue. 

At last, the machine you’re on started to whirr as you lowered the incline to normal and slowed the speed of the belt until it stops completely. Eddie’s chest heaves as he watches, his pulse racing so fast it’s probably going to trigger the smartwatch on his wrist. You catch his eye in the mirror as you wipe down your machine with a disinfectant wipe and his head snaps forward.

Best of all, when you’re done, you tug down your headphones so they rest around your neck.

This is it, he thinks, his heart pounding harder than it ever had during a workout. Now or fucking never.

“So, uhh, how many dogs do you actually have?”

As pick-up lines go, it’s…not great. But it gets you to stop next to him on your way to the door, tilting your head and smiling as you do.

Fuck, you’re pretty.

“What was that?” you ask.

Eddie scrambled. He ran his hand across the nape of his neck, resisting the urge to smack himself in the back of his head. All of a sudden, his body is unbearably hot and he’s never been so embarrassed of his douchey shirt now that your eyes were scanning him up and down.

Wait…were you checking him out?

“I just…I’ve seen you walking them,” he chuckled. “I was wondering how many you have.”

“Oh, none,” you laughed. “It’s kind of a side gig. I walk them for some other people who live here.”

“None of them are yours then?”

“Nah,” you said, sheepishly looking down at the floor and then flicking your gaze back up to meet his, a smile curling across your lips. “I’ve got a cat, though.”

next

[mrrharper]

Bro Advice

bruh, you 'kay there dawg? cause yer sittin' here all moody n' depressed dude and im like this ain't right, yeah bro?

ah, ya what dude? failed an... exam bro? huhuhuhuh bruh, come on dude, don't be a pussy 'bout it, who cares bout some random exam lol bro

okay, okay bro, i see yer real invested in this exam bullsh-- in this exam, and im here like why bruh? you're at the gym bro, ya should be like pumped and ready to lift dude

yer career depends on it? bruh, there ain't nothin' worth broodin' over like you're doin' right now bro, just nah dude, life just continues bro, you just stand up and get some weights on the rack huhuhuhuh am i right bro?

brooooo! am tellin' ya, arms and chest is like the perfect thing for a shit day bruh-- yer not a gym-obsessed dumbass? dawg, gym's like the only thing worth obsessing over huhuhuh bro, am tellin' ya

nah dude, ya need some correctin' that attitude bro, cause let me tell ya bro, yer just thinkin' too much my dude

bro, don't fight it, believe me bro, yer gonna feel so fuckin' good bro, you lust gotta let go, just not hold as many fuckin' useless thoughts in that head of yours bro, its like so simple bruh

ugh, bruh that's cause you're fightin it dude, like try this bro, like, come 'ere bro, were gonna do some curls bro, gotta get these guns pumped huhuhuh

yeah bro, get these movements steady dude, rep after rep, yeah like that dude, feel them repeat, one after the other, almost endless bro

exactly bruh, yer killin it dude, just keep pushin', yeah like that-- nah bruh, ya can't just go back to talkin' bout that... i don't even remember what ya were broody about bro, see, that's what yer s'possed to so - just kinda forget bro, cause it ain't important dude

dawg, ya don't understand, and yer the one with too much thinkin' huhuhuhuh, good one, anyway bro, ya have to let it go bruh, let it go

don't be a fuckin nerd bro, am yer big bruh and am gonna take care of ya, but ya can't just turn into some pussy, ya get it bro

fuck yeah dude, get that PB bro, let's fuckin' go brah! see, yer doin' great bro, ya just gotta push yourself on the bench dude and that's all it takes

huh, bro, no idea what you're on about dude, like, ya came to the gym and we're doing a workout, what else is there to it?

nah bro, yer like my lil' bro, ain't that right huhuhuh, cause im like, makin' sure yer a proper bro in the gym, yeah?

dude, uni's not a thing for real bros like ya or me, it's for lame nerds who can't even lift 50 lbs on the bench, fuckin' hell those damn pussies, we ain't like them bro, we're real men bro

i mean, just look at yourself, these pumped guns and chest, some nice thick thighs, bro yer a real bro, like myself dude, no denying it

i bet yer mind feels foggy huhuhuhuh, you just lifted like a lot bro, you gotta take a break after this dude

nah, man, am pretty sure we've been like, bros in the gym for like, months, weeks, who gives a fuck, but I can tell ya that i ain't quittin' bruh, ill take care of ya, lil' bro, just like ive always done, right bruh?

right bro

yer my bro, dude

always have been

and ain't nothin' gonna change that

duhuhuhuh these are some nice biceps bro

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Abby Anderson modern day head-cannons

Parings - Abby Anderson if the apocalypse never happened

Tw- some nsfw at the end

An- this is both In general headcannons and relationships

Abbys father is a neurosurgeon so mans is loaded bro 😭- abby def went to one of those hella expensive private schools.

She’s kinda old and new money

So Abby can go three ways ok

The typical basic blonde IT girl

Straight girl on the weight lifting team

Muscular masculine lesbian

I think we all know which one makes the most sense.

Abby wouldn’t come out to her father about being a lesbian until like high school

I’m pretty sure her mom died in the beginning of the apocalypse but it could be safe to assume that she’s also a doctor in modern day

Abby would of gone to a really good university and become a neurosurgeon like her father

While in medical school she met Nora and Mel - they knew Owen and manny and that’s how the group all met

She would of definitely done sports - so sports Abby did would be

Weightlifting

Basketball

Ice hockey

She’ll go online and see the thirst edits and comments about her and laugh because she’s not only flattered but she’ll find multiple women who are her type and like their comments.

HEAVVVYYY against college parties like girly is a student athlete and on a scholarship for her medical degree — she’s always studying and doesn’t want to do anything to ruin her scholarship

After she gets her degree she works in a well known and high paying hospital

Got a German Shepard and named her Alice

Graduated top of her class

A big football fan and if her school has a football team she would go to every home game.

You and Abby most likely met in college.

you two met after both taking a same extracurricular.

she had to actually prep talk herself into actually going up to you and talking to you

once she actually asked you out she was freaking out over wether or not you actually liked her (she had Nora help her pick out an outfit)

after a few dates she awkwardly asked if she could be your girlfriend. You said yes of-course

At first you thought the relationship would be hard since Abby’s always busy but much to your surprise she always made time for you

After like a week together she took you to meet her parents, you were anxious as her parents were well known medical professionals but they welcomed you with open arms

Once she introduced you to the friend group you knew you were stuck with her.

Is overly protective of you- a guy hits on you she’s passive aggressively getting into his face. Some girls are starting drama with you - she’ll tell them to fuck off . A teacher is refusing to take your paper late - Abby will go have a one on one possibly bribe the teacher to take your paper.

If you did well on exams she’ll take you out to a nice resturant however if you did poor she’ll reassure you take you to a comfort food restaurant and help you study next time.

Outside Abby’s the sweetest most gentle person you’ve ever seen however in the bedroom it’s completely different

Abby is the type of woman to take her time devouring you. She would spend hours between your thighs with her tongue on your clit and her thick fingers pumping in and out of you painfully slow

She can either be soft and loving whispering sweet nothings into your ear taking her time with you compaired to when she lost an important game or is stressed out about exams she’ll fuck you like no tomorrow, denying you your orgasm and degrading you, with her thick strap deep into you

[luffyvace]

✌︎ Sitting in Zoro’s Lap hcs ✌︎

I just felt like doing these<3 I don’t usually do concepts and I’m testing out the waters so they’ll likely be short ;3 also I wanna do more than just relationship hcs bc it’ll be more fun ✌︎

enjoy zoro simps cuz y’all definitely be on my acc 💖

At first he feels it’s kinda pointless

like he’s thinking “why would you wanna sit on my lap?!—sit on a chair or- just- somewhere else!...even the floor or something idk?!!”

but however you somehow convince him to let you, whether that’s bribery (swords or alcohol), sitting on him anyway or schmoozing him over into letting you,

you did it!!

And that’s all that matters :)

he probably got tired of your relentless request and just let you eventually

While you sit on him he’s usually sleeping sitting up, drinking alcohol or just relaxing with his eyes closed

When you sit facing him it’s a little more comfortable for him

he prefers it that way

sometimes you lay your head on his shoulder/chest and fall asleep on him

he’ll scoff either way but he gets a bit annoyed if he was trying to do something that requires getting up

Like training for example

If he wasn’t too busy in the first place then he just scoffs and probably takes a nap himself

if he’s not tired he waits for you to get up

he doesn’t like to stir you from sleep but if it’s important like a ship attack he’s kinda rough about doing so- 😀

bro he basically yanks you up and yells your name

not because he’s trying to be mean 🤷‍♀️

Just the fact that if an attack comes your way you won’t be able to dodge—and protecting someone isn’t his thing when fighting, he always tells you to go hide if your weak

uh anyway 😗

When you sit with your back to his chest its comfy but like don’t be surprised if he picks you up and turns you around (i don’t wanna hear anyone saying they’re too heavy bc you obviously must not have seen the weights he lifts on a daily)

sitting like that’s kinda annoying bc having to crane your neck back and to the side is not fun 😬😀

plus you probably hit his jaw a lot-

Or things like

1) he bites his tongue

2) his teeth hit your head (and it hurts for both of you)

3) he spits his alcohol in your hair (when you hit his jaw with your head)

4) you hit your head on his nose

So yeah this position is less common for you guys

Bonus if your hair is long

then he gets his fingernails stuck to it too :)

he prefers you don’t sit on his lap in public

mostly because he doesn’t like the stares that come with it 💁‍♀️

he just feels awkward

If you once again somehow convince him to let you in public however…..

it’ll be the type where he man spreads and you sit on one leg facing him

that way he has a bit more space to move and one of his arms is free

just in case an attack comes that he needs to block

orrrrrr just for simply drinking alcohol 😋

on the merry/sunny he’s more likely to cave in

especially since it’s just the strawhats

unless they make fun of him or smth (especially robin) then he doesn’t mind as much

plus y’all can have some privacy in the crows nest most likely

ngl he pretty comfy to sit on

unless your really tall or smth he’s prob bigger than you

so it’s not like y’all are uncomfortable or squished

zoro after time skip is low key more comfy because you know that dark green coat he wears?

yeah it like bends to create a little chair when he manspreads

and idk if you know what I’m talking about but those who get it do 💗👍

Does he end up liking it?

yes :)

yes he does. :)

Im trying to branch out and do more concepts because it’s more interesting for me to write, and you to read so why not 😊

Hopefully my zoro stans enjoyed !! <3 ⚔️🗡

[mvybanks]

hiiii!! i love how you write for jj and i was wondering if you could write something for him! something like the reader being john bs twin sister and dating jj and so he basically lives with her at the chateau. like jj spends all his nights with her in her room there and john b is like used to him always being there that at that point he DOES live there lmao. plz and ty, you don’t have to tho lol

the one where you’re john b’s twin (w/ jj)

a/n: hiii, thank you so much!!! jj x routledge!reader will always be my favorite trope so you know i’ll never deny a request for them. btw, i didn’t know what you wanted me to write specifically so i just made it into a fluffy blurb, hope you like it!

warnings: none!

my masterlist

“guys, GUYS, cut it out!” you yell for the umpteenth time at the two reckless boys who have been wrestling for god knows how long.

it was never your intention to fall in love with your twin’s best friend but that idiot stole your heart and now you have to share your boyfriend with your brother and make sure they don’t get themselves killed.

they’re the definition of ‘dumb and dumber’.

“sorry, babe, i’m winning!” jj yells while he straddles john b and you can only throw your head back in exhaustion.

you’re currently lying on your favorite hammock and trying to read a book but it’s impossible to concentrate with all the commotion happening in the yard. when you hear your boyfriend shouting something in the lines of ‘i won’, you can finally go back to the book in your hands.

or at least you think you can.

jj runs to you with his arms up in the air to celebrate his victory.

“i won, baby,” he says when he’s in front of you, sweating and panting from the fight.

“that’s great, j,” you don’t even look at him, this has got to be the third or fourth time he has done this today.

“aren’t you gonna gimme a kiss?” he puckers his lips and you can’t help but lift your head, his sweet voice winning you over.

“c’mere,” you gesture to him to bend down and then you peck his lips, but a pout is left on them when you pull away too soon.

“nooo, i want a real kiss,” he whines and you have to roll your eyes.

“john b is literally there,” you point to your twin who’s lying on the grass and not even listening to you two, too busy trying to regain his breath.

“he can’t see us, baby, c’mon.”

before you can even give him an answer, he throws himself on you and lifts his weight off your body placing his hands on either side of your head.

“now, lemme kiss my girlfriend.”

his lips find yours again in a toe curling kiss, reminding you why you can’t stay away from your golden retriever of a boyfriend. you soon find yourself having a make out session with him as you run your fingers through his hair and one of his hands goes under your shirt. a sigh leaves your mouth at the feeling of his hands on your body and he smirks on your lips.

“seriously? couldn’t you have waited until i was in the house? fucking disgusting,” john b’s voice pulls you out of your little world and forces you to push jj away from you, while his head falls in your neck.

“sorry, bro!” he yells and you giggle looking at your twin who’s now walking inside your shared home while he shakes his head in disbelief.

“i’m sorry, jb!” you also shout and he gives you the middle finger before closing the door behind him.

“he’s gonna kill you one of these days, you know that?” you joke, but his lips on your neck distract you and you let a hand fall on his head to play with his hair.

he hums, “so fucking worth it,” he mumbles on your skin and you smile at his words.

“yeah?”

jj lifts his head to look at you and those sweet eyes of him make you melt, “i’d die the happiest man ever.”

you laugh and he swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“plus, if he didn’t kill me when he found out about us, he never will,” he adds.

memories of that day flood your mind: jj accidentally falling asleep after spending the night together, john b entering your room to tell you that he made you breakfast and finding you in his best friend’s arms, both of you completely naked, waking up to your twin shouting at jj while he run away from your crazy brother.

“remember how red he was?” you smile at the funny memory.

“oh yeah, i also remember how purple my eye was,” his lips leave another kiss on your neck.

“shit, right.”

he kisses you again, catching you by surprise, “worth it,” he whispers on your lips.

later that night you find yourself resting on your boyfriend’s chest while the two of you are about to fall asleep on your shared bed. jj’s arm is tightly wrapped around your torso and his other hand is on your naked thigh, stroking the soft skin and making you hum at the feeling.

someone knocks gently on the door and wakes you up slightly.

“come in!” you say but it’s impossible for you to shout when you’re so relaxed.

john b enters your room with his eyes covered with one hand.

“are you decent?”

you roll your eyes, but unfortunately your boyfriend’s answer comes faster than yours, “oh no, we’re definitely having sex right now. that’s why we told you to come in.”

“you’re disgusting, jj, you know that?” he finally lowers his hand, “just wanted to say goodnight, you idiot. goodnight, pickle.”

you smile at the nickname he’s always used for you, “g’night, bird,” you manage to mumble out, tiredness obvious in your voice.

“night, jb.”

your brother leaves the room and slowly closes the door behind him as he gives you a sheepish smile.

“baby?” you whisper with your lips pressing on jj’s chest.

“mh?”

“i love you,” and he knows he’ll never get tired of hearing those words.

“i love you, pretty girl.”

[veren-cos]

Bachelors distracting you!

Stardew Valley Bachelors x reader

You need to get work done but they want your attention, and one way or another, they will get it :3

Not proofread, and not very cohesive between characters. Tried to keep it Canon. May or may not have succeeded.

Sam

"No, babe, a new season just started I have to get going on my crops!"

• Would definitely pout and try and hold your hand to prevent you from leaving the house

• As you got out your money and some leftover seeds from last year, he would (not so sneakily) get out his guitar

• He would then start playing a brand new song for you

• Like. Has been saving it for something, and it wasn't quite done, but he just had to get you to stay!

• Then when you tried asking him about it, he would say "no, I'm sorry, I have to work on this song more!"

• Basically mocking you from earlier saying you had to work haha

• This would successfully get you for like an hour, it makes him happy.

Alex

You were bustling around town, and he wanted you to talk to him, even if just for a bit!

• As soon as he saw you enter town he started lifting weights.

• And the more he saw you enter and leave buildings he started using heavier ones, trying to get you to think he is soooooo impressive.

• Eventually when you come to his house BUT DONT TALK TO HIM (how dare you/j) he does that jock boy thing where he wipes his sweat with his shirt

• A cocky bastard (affectionate) who just wants to see you flustered and pause for a second to admire him.

• Yeah. That definitely distracts you as you leave.

(God he is such a dude bro (affectionate-))

Sebastian

You were busy doing work around the farm, and he wanted attention but didn't want to outwardly bother your day.

• Ngl he would either work on his motorcycle purely because he knows you think it's hot, or he would play his synthesizer.

• Depends on how confident he is feeling that day, but he knows both of those need to be done eventually anyways!

• He rarely practices his synth, and knows it fascinates you.

• It's just so cool he knows how to play it!!

• If he works on his motorcycle, you just watch because you are trying to figure out what he is doing

• You want to be able to actually know what he is talking about when he tells you about it later!

• Either way, he knows he grabbed your attention for a little bit, and that's enough for him

• Definitely would not be up in your face about it tho, he is very low key about like. Everything-

Harvey

• Wouldn't try to distract you from your farming or anything

• Knows how important your job is

• Would however distract you from menial activities like reading or watching TV if you haven't given him enough attention that day

• Would start cooking

• Like something he knows you really like, but also smells so it would get your attention

• Also plays music. Like some early 2000s girly pop music. He loves that stuff but doesn't play it often because he thinks it's embarrassing he likes it (it isn't I love that shit)

• But yeah that grabs your attention from whatever you were doing

Shane

• Starts bringing the chickens outside of the coup!

• Knows you think they are cute

• And he knows you think he is cute when he is taking care of the animals

• Plus it's also practical for him to do animal stuff so you can farm

• But yeah he doesn't really want a lot of attention, just wants to see you smile for a bit!

Elliott

He just wanted to see your face stick around for a little longer! Didn't want you to go, even when he knew you had work to do.

• Would play his piano!

• Works like a charm because he always has something new

• You wonder when he has the time to practice new pieces all the time

• You sit next to him for a bit, leaning on his shoulder

• After he finishes the song, he let's you go back to whatever you were doing.

• He got in enough time with you for now, but he would make sure to get all of your attention later

An* I had like no ideas for Harvey and Shane. Sorry if they are kinda clunky- This was mostly inspired by my ideas for Sam and Alex, but this was fun to write!! Also, these lowkey make no sense, and they weren't proofread, so just take the concepts loosely and run with it! :)

Rasmodius, aka The Wizard (by request)

I imagine that this would be when you stopped by to visit him but had to leave to go work. Like y'all weren't living together.

• Would use magic!

• A silent spell that makes little illusions around the room.

• He is a little shy, so like Sebastian or Harvey, he wouldn't outright say anything.

• But he makes everything so pretty you can't help but stare for a while.

• The lights danced near the ceiling, a mirage of all your favorite colors

• He gets your attention for a while, and it keeps him content until he sees you again :3

Masterlist

[rvp32]

Enchanted Desires

5K words, Commission, Threesome, DP. If you guys want a story written text me here.

The final exams were over, the weight of your last college test lifting from your shoulders. Exhausted from the all-nighter you had pulled to cram for it, you yearned for some well-deserved rest. Returning to your room, you collapsed onto the couch, instantly succumbing to sleep.

A thunderous commotion disrupted your slumber, and you awoke to the raucous clamor of your roommate Brian. He had the volume cranked up to eleven on his excitement meter.

"Y/n, let's hit the pubs today! We're finally free from this college grind, time to celebrate!" Brian's voice rang in your ears like a blaring alarm.

"Brian, for the love of peace and quiet, can you tone it down?" you grumbled in irritation, your eyes half-closed. You put your index finger to your lips, urging him to lower his voice. The silence was golden, but it was as fleeting as a summer breeze, for Brian ventured closer.

"Come on, man," he urged, his tone more subdued. "Let's go to the bars. This calls for a celebration, you know?"

Still reluctant to commit, you sought a way out, questioning, "So, who else is joining us at the pub today?"

Brian started listing off a few names of people who would be joining the celebration at the pub, but one name rang in your ears like a siren's song—Yooa. She was the girl you'd been with once, and saying she was adventurous was an understatement. Yooa had a taste for the unconventional and was remarkably open about it. Her company was known to be quite eclectic, and she enjoyed the company of many.

After a brief moment of contemplation, you agreed to join Brian for the pub outing. As you were about to make your exit, you issued a stern warning to your friend, your eyes locked onto his.

"Listen up, Brian," you said firmly. "You better not drink yourself into oblivion tonight. I swear to God, if you do, I won't hesitate to leave you on the side of the road."

Brian nodded in acknowledgment, his expression more serious now. "Hey, don't worry, bro. I'll make sure I stay on this side of blackout drunk tonight," he reassured you with a determined look in his eyes.

With your warning delivered and accepted, you and Brian set off for the pub. As you walked down the bustling streets, the excitement of being done with college and the prospect of meeting Yooa again began to take hold.

"So, Brian," you began, trying to lighten the mood, "you think this night's gonna be as wild as the last time we hung out with Yooa?"

Brian chuckled, recalling the memorable escapade from their previous encounter. "Oh, man, that girl knows how to keep things interesting, that's for sure. I wouldn't be surprised if things get a little crazy tonight."

As you turned the corner, the neon lights of the pub came into view, casting a vibrant glow on the sidewalk. The energy in the air was infectious, and the distant sound of laughter and music promised a lively evening.

You couldn't help but grin as you approached the entrance. "Well, whatever happens, let's make it a night to remember, Brian."

Brian clapped you on the back, his enthusiasm undiminished. "You got it, Y/n. Tonight, we'll raise the roof!"

With those words, you pushed open the door and stepped into the lively atmosphere of the pub, ready for a night of celebration, laughter, and whatever surprises Yooa had in store.

The pub was alive with energy, the dance floor pulsating with music that seemed to reverberate through your very core. The warm glow of the lights bathed the crowd in an inviting atmosphere. You decided to start the night with a few drinks, hitting the bar with Brian in tow.

As you downed your second drink, the music's rhythm seemed to seep into your veins, making it impossible to resist the magnetic pull of the dance floor. You couldn't help but move to the beat, swaying your hips in time with the music.

Brian watched with amusement as you grooved to the music. "Looks like you're getting into the spirit, Y/n," he shouted over the music.

You grinned and nodded, feeling the music coursing through you. "Can't help it, man! This music's too damn good!"

As you danced and lost yourself in the music, a familiar figure caught your eye. Yooa was on the dance floor, moving with fluidity and confidence, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Her presence was magnetic, and you couldn't resist the urge to approach her.

You made your way through the dancing crowd, and as you got closer, Yooa turned to meet your gaze with a playful glint in her eyes. The music provided the perfect backdrop as you both moved in sync, your bodies communicating in a language of their own.

"You've got some moves, Y/n," Yooa said, her voice sultry, as she leaned in closer to speak in your ear.

You chuckled, the proximity sending shivers down your spine. "I've had some practice since the last time we hung out," you replied with a wink.

Yooa's laughter rang out, and she pulled you even closer, the connection between you growing stronger with each beat of the music. The night had just begun, and it was shaping up to be a memorable one, filled with dancing, laughter, and the promise of a connection that transcended the ordinary.

As the music throbbed through the air, you and Yooa moved together on the dance floor, lost in the rhythm of the night. The crowd seemed to fade away as your focus shifted entirely to the captivating woman in your arms.

Yooa's body pressed against yours, and the sensation was electric. She ran her fingers teasingly along your chest, her lips dangerously close to your ear. "You always know how to make an entrance, Y/n," she purred, her voice filled with playful seduction.

You couldn't help but smile at her words, feeling emboldened by the chemistry between you. "Well, Yooa, I had to make sure this night lived up to the last one."

Yooa's laughter was like a sweet melody, and she leaned in closer, her lips grazing your cheek as she whispered, "I have a feeling it's going to surpass it."

The dance floor became your playground, a space where words were unnecessary. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of desire and anticipation. The flirtatious tension between you grew with every touch and every shared glance.

Yooa playfully brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a rush of heat through you. "You've always been a tease, Y/n," she said, her voice husky with desire.

You couldn't resist the urge to tease back, trailing your fingers along the curve of her waist. "I learned from the best," you whispered, your lips brushing against her earlobe.

The connection between you two was undeniable, and as the night wore on, the flirtatious dance continued. The world around you faded into the background, leaving only the intoxicating sensation of Yooa's presence and the promise of a night filled with passion and adventure.

The seductive dance with Yooa was abruptly interrupted when a tall, well-dressed man approached her on the dance floor. He leaned in close, whispering something in her ear, causing Yooa to furrow her brow slightly. The sudden appearance of this man piqued your curiosity, and you couldn't help but ask, "Who's this, Yooa?"

Yooa turned to you, her eyes meeting yours as she spoke candidly, "This is my boyfriend, Jake." She paused for a moment as if assessing your reaction. "Actually, we have an open relationship," she continued her voice a mixture of honesty and vulnerability.

The revelation took you by surprise. You had heard of open relationships but had never been involved in one. The idea intrigued you, and you considered stepping away for a moment. However, something in Yooa's eyes, genuine warmth, and sincerity, made you pause.

She reached out to touch your arm, her voice was soft and reassuring. "Y/n, we're looking for someone to join us tonight. Would you be interested?"

The proposition hung in the air, and your mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The chemistry between you and Yooa was undeniable, and the idea of exploring something new and adventurous tugged at your curiosity.

You glanced over at Jake, who wore a knowing smile, and then back at Yooa. Taking a deep breath, you made your decision, a hint of excitement in your voice. "Alright, Yooa, let's see where this night takes us."

Yooa's eyes sparkled with excitement as she began to paint a vivid picture of what the night could hold. Her voice, a sultry melody, filled your ears as she whispered, "Y/n, just imagine the possibilities. With Jake and me, we can create an unforgettable experience. You'll get to explore desires you might have never even realized."

She leaned in closer, her lips tantalizingly close to your ear as she continued, "We're all about pleasure, and there are so many ways we can make this night incredible for you. You'll be at the center of our attention, and we'll ensure every moment is filled with ecstasy."

Yooa's words sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't deny the allure of her proposition. Her confidence and sensuality were impossible to resist, and you found yourself captivated by the tantalizing possibilities.

She gently touched your cheek, her gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "Think about the passion, Y/n. The pleasure. The adventure. It's a chance to explore your deepest desires and fantasies."

As you considered Yooa's words, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. The idea of a night filled with passion and exploration, guided by the experienced hands of Yooa and Jake, was undeniably enticing.

Finally, you met Yooa's gaze with a newfound determination. "Alright, Yooa. Let's make this a night to remember," you said, your voice filled with anticipation and excitement. With that, the three of you embarked on a journey of pleasure and adventure, ready to explore the uncharted territories of desire and passion that awaited.

The decision had been made, and as the music continued to pulse through the air, you leaned in and captured Yooa's lips in a passionate kiss. The spark of desire ignited, and the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the intoxicating taste of her lips.

Yooa responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around you as the kiss deepened. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, and the anticipation of the night ahead only fueled the intensity of the moment.

Breaking the kiss, you looked into Yooa's eyes, your hands tracing a path down her body, teasing and exploring. Her breath hitched, and a mischievous smile played on her lips as she whispered, "You're a quick learner, Y/n."

With a playful glint in your eye, you continued to dance with Yooa, your bodies pressed close as you reveled in the thrill of the moment. The pub seemed to disappear around you as you lost yourselves in the passionate connection you shared.

As the night wore on, and the desire between you intensified, you decided it was time to leave the pulsating atmosphere of the pub. You gently took Yooa's hand, your fingers entwined, and you led her toward the exit. The air outside was crisp, a welcome contrast to the heat of the dance floor.

Together, you walked towards Yooa's apartment, your hearts racing with anticipation of the adventures that awaited behind closed doors. The night was young, and the world was yours to explore, one desire-filled moment at a time.

*****

Upon arriving at Yooa's apartment, she left you on the couch and disappeared into her room. As you sat there, a mix of excitement and uncertainty filled your mind. You couldn't help but question the decision you had made earlier in the night. Was this really the right choice? Were you ready for what lay ahead?

But then, you thought about the undeniable chemistry between you and Yooa, the adventurous spirit of the night, and the thrill of exploring uncharted territory. You realized that even if it was a bad decision, it might also be the last opportunity you had to experience something like this with Yooa.

With newfound resolve, you got up from the couch and approached Yooa's bedroom door. You raised your hand to knock, but before you could, the door slowly creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room and Yooa standing there, wearing a black lace lingerie set that left very little to the imagination.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight before you. Yooa's confidence and sensuality were on full display, and the anticipation in the room was palpable. The air was thick with desire, and all doubts and hesitations melted away.

Without a word, Yooa extended her hand, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a rush of heat through you. 

Before taking the next step, a hint of concern crept into your mind. You gazed into Yooa's eyes, seeking reassurance one last time. "Are you really okay with this, Yooa?" you asked, your voice tinged with genuine care.

Yooa met your gaze with a smoldering intensity, her fingers gently tracing a line along your jawline. "Y/n, this has been a dream of mine," she confessed, her voice filled with desire. "And Jake, my boyfriend, he's been eager for this too."

At the mention of Jake, curiosity got the better of you. "Where is he now?" you asked, a hint of interest in your voice.

Yooa's lips curled into a knowing smile as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "He's taking care of something, but he'll be joining us soon," she whispered seductively.

With that, she closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was nothing short of passionate and lustful. The room seemed to spin as desire coursed through you, and any lingering doubts or questions faded away in the heat of the moment.

The passionate kiss between you and Yooa continued, intensifying with each passing moment, until suddenly, the apartment's front door swung open. Startled, you both broke apart, the intimate moment disrupted by the arrival of Jake.

Awkwardness settled in the room as Jake stepped inside, his presence a stark contrast to the heat that had filled the air just moments before. He looked between you and Yooa, his expression a mix of surprise and appreciation.

Breaking the silence, Jake offered a sincere smile. "Thank you, Y/n, for agreeing to be a part of this," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "I've been looking forward to tonight."

The tension in the room slowly began to ease as you realized that Jake's arrival had shifted the dynamic. It was clear that they had discussed and planned this moment together, and the three of you were embarking on a journey of desire and exploration.

All of a sudden Yooa says “Now that both of you are finally here get started because I can’t wait to get stretched and used to the point where I can’t remember my own name” 

Taking the invitation you walk to Yooa, grabbing her top and ripping it from her body leaving her completely naked. Yooa liked it rough and you knew very well how to give her what she wanted. 

You hug her from behind, one hand resting on her neck and the other hand squeezing her supple boobs, they were soft and the hard nipples were good to flick. Yooa had sensitive nipples so it didn’t take a long time before she turned into a moaning mess that was squirming in your grasp.

Your attention was peeled away from Yooa only to notice that her boyfriend was sitting down and pleasuring himself all while staring at Yooa’s sexy body crumbling in your hands, he seemed to be enjoying this from the looks of how fast he was pumping his cock. 

Seeing this as a good sign you slowly move your hand lower, exploring every inch of her upper boy, her supple tits that were red from all the harsh grabbing, her toned stomach that flexed whenever you bit her neck. Now reaching the most sensitive area of her body you decided to tease her, light feathery touched over her thighs slowly moving closer to her glistening pussy. 

“Please, touch my pussy,” Yooa begs, obliging with her request you touch her pussy, it was drenched, leaking from the anticipation. Playing with her swollen clit causes her eyes to roll back. Every touch causes her body to release more liquid, signaling that it is close to climax. 

“Are you gonna cum, Yooa?" You asked, your voice filled with a mixture of desire and anticipation. You already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it from her lips.

Yooa nodded, her eyes locked onto yours, her breath hitching in her throat as she struggled to find her voice. "Yes," she finally managed to whisper, her voice trembling with anticipation.

With a knowing smile, you urged her on. "Then go ahead, Yooa. Show your boyfriend how big of a slut his girlfriend is," Increasing your pace, Yooa screams in pleasure before letting out a huge stream of squirt. 

Yooa's legs gave way, and she collapsed into your arms, her desire and need evident in her eyes. A simple command passed your lips, and she obediently opened her mouth, her anticipation palpable.

You held your wet fingers before her, your gaze locked onto hers. "Taste yourself," you whispered in a husky voice, Yooa Sucks on your fingers religiously, licking every nook and cranny of the 2 fingers that you placed in her mouth. 

“You like it?” You question Yooa, and she simply nods. “Maybe I should get a taste for myself straight from the source,” you carry Yooa to the bed and place her on the edge before kneeling. Spreading her legs apart you finally get a view of her pink pussy with a cute little bush and you take your time to admire it. 

“Don’t stare, please,” Yooa covers herself embarrassed because of how much you were looking. Diving into her pussy, you finally get the taste of the heavenly goodness. Her  pussy tasted sweet, making you want to eat her forever. 

“Fuck! That feels amazing, Keep going! Oh my God,” Yooa moaned as she griped onto your hair pushing you further into her. Continuing your feast on her wet and delicious pussy, using your free hand to occasionally flick her clit. 

“Oh yeah! Fuck!” Yooa said in between moans. Her back bends upward due to the immense pleasure that she is receiving. 

“I’m going to cu-” Before she could finish her sentence you feel another stream of squirt on your face. Trying your best not to let liquid gold go to waste you lick up everything you possibly can. Wanting to drink more of her amazing squirt you insert 2 fingers into her and pump while stimulating her clit with your free hand. 

“No, too sensitive, stop please Y/n!” Yooa screams, her body now bouncing on the bed trying to get away from your fingers but your legs managed to keep her in place as you overstimulated her cunt. 

The intensity of the moment had pushed Yooa to the brink of ecstasy, rendering her unable to form coherent words. Her hands flailed in a desperate attempt to communicate her overwhelming pleasure and the need for a moment's respite, yet her body betrayed her as it writhed with unrestrained passion on the bed.

The room echoed with her screams and pleas for mercy, a symphony of desire and surrender. The connection between you two was electric, and in the throes of passion, you continued to ravish Yooa, lost in the sensual dance. 

The crescendo of pleasure finally reached its peak, and Yooa came undone in a powerful release. A torrent of liquid accompanied her screams, her body trembling uncontrollably, tears of ecstasy streaming down her face. It was evident that this experience had pushed her to new heights of pleasure she had never reached before.

Her boyfriend, concerned by her screams and violent shaking, rushed to her side, his expression a mix of surprise and care. Jake gently pats Yooa’s hair as she slowly comes down from her mind-destroying orgasm. Once she manages to come down from her high and sit up, Jake hugs her and kisses her.

The room was thick with desire and the afterglow of intense pleasure as the three of you found yourselves entangled in the aftermath of a passionate encounter. Jake, his eyes filled with awe, turned to Yooa, his voice filled with admiration.

"Are you alright, babe?" he asked, his concern mixed with an undeniable excitement. "That was incredible. I've never seen you like this. It was so damn hot that I almost lost it myself."

Yooa, still catching her breath, nodded in agreement, her voice filled with a newfound desire. "Yeah, it was mind-blowing. I didn't know my body could handle something like this. Now that I've had a taste, I might just get addicted." She looked at both you and Jake with a sultry gaze. "I hope this is just the beginning of the night because I need you guys to use me."

Yooa's hands found their way to your thighs and Jake's, her touch sending a shiver of anticipation through both of you. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as you locked eyes with Yooa, knowing full well what was about to unfold next. 

To make it easier for her you stand up and take off your pants and underwear that were restricting your erect cock. While you were doing so, Yooa helped her boyfriend out of what little clothing he had left on himself. Once she turned to look at you in all your naked glory you could see the excitement in her eyes, “You don’t have to just stare, you can touch it.”

Your permission was all that she needed because her hand reached over to grab your cock and spit on it before she began stroking you. Completely immersed with the cock in her hands, her boyfriend was again left on the sidelines but he wasn’t having any of that as he took her free hand guiding to his hard cock.

Yooa enthusiastically stroked the two hard cocks in her hand for a minute before taking mine in her mouth. The warm feeling was amazing, Yooa was very good at sucking cock but she wasn’t able to take your cock to the hilt, she continued using her tongue to play with the head and then all of a sudden she started trying to deepthroat your cock, with great difficulty she managed to take almost everything, taking your hand you place it on the back of her head to push her till her nose was touching your pelvic bone. Your cock managed to reach parts of her throat that weren’t touched in a long time. 

After holding her in place for a few seconds you let go, Yooa immediately started coughing but it didn’t last long as she put your cock back in her mouth, seeing how well she was doing, you started to face fuck her. Losing all sense of your surroundings you were pumping into her face like there was no tomorrow.

The intense feeling of fucking her throat was driving you closer to your orgasm. “Fuck Yooa, I’m going to cum soon where do you want it?” You manage to say as you continue pounding her face. Yooa doesn’t reply but she grabs your ass with her free hand and pulls you closer to her which causes you to cum down her throat. 

“Fuck that felt amazing,” you say before falling onto the bed. Yooa then moves on to pleasuring her needy boyfriend. taking this time to recover some energy as you didn’t want the night to end this way. However, it doesn’t take long before Jake cums, “Don’t tell me you are done just from blowing one load,” Yooa says after swallowing Jake’s cum. 

“Not so fast, I still have a lot left in the tank and some more stress to relieve,” You say and wink at her. 

“Come here and prove it,” Yooa says as she spreads her legs and plays with her pussy. Her pussy was wet and inviting. Taking her up on the offer you crawl to Yooa and push her into a missionary position. “I’m going to put it in now,” You tell her as you slowly insert your penis inside her. The feeling was inexplicable, it was tight but not suffocating, almost like it was made as a hilt for your sword. 

Yooa’s nails dig into your back as the little space between Yooa and you decreases, her nails are going to leave a mark but you couldn’t care less. Once you bottom out Yooa wraps her hands around your neck and pulls you into a kiss. It was a kiss filled with lust, both your tongues battling for dominance. 

Not being able to withstand staying still, you pull out from the kiss, “ I am going to start moving,” With that warning, you begin moving slowly but your pace gradually increases.

“Fuck, Y/n feels so good. Don’t stop!” Yooa moans out, “You are stretching me out so good. God damn this is amazing!”

Jake was now sitting next to her, guiding her face to his erect cock, she sucks on it without any complaints. All of a sudden, Jake suggests something you weren’t expecting, “Let me get into her ass, and you can take her pussy.” 

You make eye contact with Yooa to make sure she is okay with this, and she nods. Not wanting to pull out from the warm pussy, you lifted Yooa, holding her close to your body as Jake got into place. 

Once Jake was lying down on the bed, you slowly put Yooa down on his erect cock, the sensation was too much for Yooa as she let out a loud scream as the foreign object entered her asshole. Her pussy tightened around your cock squeezing it hard as tried to cope with the pain.

“Oh my fucking God!” Yooa screamed and bit down on your neck to stop herself from screaming because of the initial pain. Once she adjusted to the feeling, “My holes are being stretched beyond my wildest dream. Now fuck me, do it like your life depends on it” 

Both of you start moving, Jake speeding up a lot faster than you. Her vagina still gripping onto your cock like there is no tomorrow, your initial movement is slow but that immediately changes when Yooa says “Is this the best you can do? If it is then you are fucking useless,” 

This sets off a switch in your brain and you see red, not caring about how tight her pussy is your movements get hard and fast. You were reaching deep inside of her as you could see your dick poking at her toned stomach every time you thrust into her. 

“Yes, this is what I wanted! Fuck me like I am a useless bitch who is nothing but a sex toy for you both to dump your cum in” Yooa screams as she is being pounded in both her holes, her mind overtaken by pleasure. 

Using your free hand to slap her tits hard as you continued to pound her pussy, Yooa’s supple tits turn red with the impact and her moans only got louder with every slap. The three of you were completely lost in the realm of sex, all chasing for their own pleasure not caring about how the other feels but coincidentally pleasuring the other without knowing. 

The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin, moans, and grunts. Noticing that you were getting closer to your climax you paused. Due to the sudden lack of pain and pleasure, Yooa looks at you in surprise, Jake also stops. 

“Let’s switch positions, I wanna fuck that tight ass and fill it up with cum,” Yooa agrees with your proposition. Once your cock was out of Yooa’s pussy and Jake’s cock was out of her ass, you flip Yooa over, she was now in doggy style but she lowered herself until Jake’s cock was inside her pussy. 

As you push your cock into her puckered hole, “Oh wow! This is crazy, I am going to cum!” Yooa convulses on Jake’s body. “S-Slow down, it feels like you are going to rip my ass apart.”  Obliging with her request you slow down your entrance into her ass, finally managing to bottom out, you give Yooa some time to adjust. 

“Move,” Yooa gives you the green signal, You begin your assault on her ass, it was different from her pussy, it was much tighter and you didn’t know how much longer you would last. Jake was pounding into her pussy like there was no tomorrow and you were positioning hard into her ass. 

You grab Yooa’s hair with one hand and pull it using the other to spank her ass, causing her to yelp with the sudden infliction of pain. You could feel how close Yooa was to her orgasm and both Jake and you weren’t much better as well, thrusts no longer had a rhythm. 

“Fuck babe, I am going to cum,” Jake said, “Hold it, babe, I am so close to cumming as well. Let’s cum together, be a good boy for me,” Yooa said. 

It only took you a few more thrusts before you announced, “Fuck, I am going to fill your ass Yooa,” your pounding getting faster as you were in the final stretch for the best orgasm of your night. 

“Let’s cum together,” Yooa announced and that led to all three of you cumming together, Yooa’s pussy and ass gripping harder, Your dick pumping cum into her ass, and Jake filling up Yooa’s pussy. 

You were the first one to pull out, watching your cum drip down from Yooa’s pussy. You fall onto the bed tired from the strenuous activity. The lack of sleep was catching up to you. The last thing that you remembered was Yooa saying, “Babe, check the cameras. Once we post this online it’s going to make us a lot of money” 

[octuscle]

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

There are holidays that I'm convinced the world doesn't need… St. Patrick's Day, for example. I think it's perfectly fine to be proud of your heritage. I mean, I have an Italian grandmother. I'm totally proud of that. She makes the best pasta in the world. Hehehe, if you look at my belly, you can tell.

You see St. Patrick's Day parades on every channel. It's pure brainwashing! I look at my stomach again… Maybe I'll use the day to do something for my fitness. The streets are full of happy people. Intrusively cheerful people with funny green hats.

The guy at reception is wearing a green T-shirt. And has a shamrock painted on his cheek. I could puke. "Hi mate, nice to see you. Not much going on today. But we'd like to take a few pictures for social media later. Something along the lines of today-we've-trained-in-green. Would you wear this tank top for training?" He holds something green out to me. Fortunately without a shamrock or a funny gnome. It looks like a rugby jersey. Maybe a little big. I smile painfully. "Mate, give yourself a jolt! I'll give you a protein flat rate and free training for three months!" You don't care about the protein flat rate. But free training for three months… You'll save a good 150 dollars. Then it won't be so bad that you come here so rarely.

"Come on, give it to me!" you say and give him a fist bump. Fist bump? What's wrong with you today? All right… Put on your jersey, half an hour on the cross trainer, then maybe a bit of chest training. And then that should be it. And if you absolutely have to post pictures of it. You go to the changing area. Yawning emptiness. Exactly to your taste, actually! You undress, put on the sweatpants and then the jersey. You take a quick look in the mirror. An overweight quarter-Italian in a green rugby jersey. You doubt that this will bring the gym even one new follower, let alone a customer.

You usually start on the cross trainer with low resistance. Today you can try something new. It's empty, no one is watching, you can't embarrass yourself. So you go to the rowing machine. You have no experience with that. So you hit the maximum resistance. And off you go! After half an hour, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. Your jersey sticks to your chest, soaked with sweat. The gym employee stands in front of you with a grin. "Bro, those were some really awesome shots! What are you up to now?" You grumble that rowing is a good base for lat training. And that you're currently doing antagonist training. So combine it with chest training. "Nice, that should make for great pictures." You don't give a damn that the camera is following you the whole time. Focus on the training. And finally, no consideration for others. Moan and grunt when you feel like it. And today you're lifting the heavy weights. That requires a loud scream or two.

Shit, you've been here for almost three hours. You're done. You shout to your gym's social media representative that it's time for the final show. You take off your slightly too tight jersey with some difficulty. And wring out the sweat. You smile at the camera and say "Happy St. Patrick's Day, bros! Stay focused and train hard!" Your buddy gives you a fist bump and says it was a lot of fun with you again. You hand him your cell phone and ask him for a photo. For your own account.

Caption: "Is as Éirinn a thagann fir réadúla i gcónaí! Buailigí, a chairde, agus go raibh Lá Fhéile Pádraig iontach agaibh!"

[alphajocklover]

Hey ! Recently, I've heard about a guy in my college, a young jock fresh from high school, that honestly acts very weirdly.

Apparently, his friends all went to local universities, while he moved all the way out to the capital, apparently in a bid to get some "elite" education. But that's not really weird, isn't it.

No, the weird thing starts at how he already acts like he's the king of uni, belittling everyone, including those like me who have been here for quite a few years, acting and even stating that he is the "alpha" of our department - as if such an outdated and so obviously false way of classifying people was even remotely correct. But then, he just goes around stating that he needs some "betas". Now, while I can imagine what they must be, those "yes-men" you see in movies accompanying the bully, I can't even begin to see how he wants to bring that to real life ! Especially since he's not in high school anymore !

Well, whatever. The real thing that creeps me out is how he seems to hang out near me weirdly often... Should that be cause for concern ?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I’ve only just seen your message. Hopefully there's still enough time for me to warn you. What you’ve met isn’t human. Not exactly. He’s… more.

Most teenage boys go through puberty with drastic changes. They shoot up, gain a bit of hair and possibly some muscle. Their voice deepens, and of course they get some… urges. It’s all very natural. But some teenage boys undergo a… startling transformation. They don’t just shoot up, they tower. They don’t gain a bit of hair, they grow bushes of it. Some shave it so that they can better show off their muscles, but most don’t. Muscle isn’t just possible for them, it’s inevitable. They’re bodies become beefy and hard, even without exercise, though most still become obsessed with lifting weights and getting even bigger. But what sets these boys, or rather these men, apart from the rest most are their urges. They don’t just feel the need to cum like most guys. They get the urge to dominate. The urge to show their power. The urge to fuck.

These men are what’s known as Alphas. And no, that’s not just some arbitrary classification. This isn’t some guy calling himself an alpha male because he’s an insecure Andrew Tate obsessed bitch. What you are dealing with is a real fucking Alpha. Once they were normal people like you or me, but something… awakened in them at some point. Usually during puberty, as I showed before, but it’s not impossible to have an Alpha discover his true self later in life. These men, if they can be called mere men, are bigger, stronger, more dominant than the average man. Much more dominant. So much so that the world seems to… bend to their will. I don’t know how they do it. Maybe they have some sort of special pheromones, or magic powers. But what I do know is when they want something, it just happens. If they want to be good at something, they just are. If they want to win at something, they just do. If they want the world, it’s served up to them on a silver platter with a protein shake.

And if they want you to be their Beta, you will be their Beta.

I’m not kidding. They can just.. change people. You’ve probably already seen some symptoms, in you and your friends. A sudden interest in fitness, in sports, in ‘bro culture.’ A strange growth spurt, the kind that really shouldn’t happen after puberty. An increased libido, a simpler vocabulary. And most of all, a great admiration for your Alpha. Not just admiration, a deep love. A need to do what he says, be what he says. Once those feelings start it’ll be too late to save you. Soon you’ll be nothing more than his Beta. Everything about you will revolve around what they want.

It’s not the worst fate in the world. Most people think that if a horny Alpha could do whatever they want to you, you’d end up a brainless sex doll. But more often than not what they really want is a bro. Or, more accurately, they want bros. Alphas are so competitive that they rarely are able to spend extended periods of time together. It’s like having two leaders of a pack. Eventually they end up locking horns. So they find, or rather make, Beta bros for them to hang out with. Big, but not as big as their Alpha. Sexy, but not hot enough to take any pussy away from the Alpha. Cool but not cool enough to take any attention away from the Alpha. There are some differences based on what the Alpha wants. Some Betas are stoners, some are jocks, some are surfers and some are skaters. It all depends on the Alphas personal aesthetic and taste. But Betas are all muscular, horny, hung, and completely subservient to their Alphas.

If you’re lucky, you can get out. Move somewhere far away, and forget about all of this. If you’re lucky the Alpha won’t care enough to go after you. You can keep your identity and sense of self intact.

But if you’re not lucky? If you’re too far under his influence? If your Alpha has taken a liking to you and won’t let you go? Well…

… be grateful you’re his Beta bro and not his Beta bitch.

**3 post in 2 days! I feel like I’m on fire! Guess I’m just very motivated to write recently. Anyways I hope you guys liked this one! Hope mentioning Andrew Tate wasn’t too political. I hate to let irl politics ruin my online fun. Enjoy!**

[heartfullofleeches]

So with someone bringing u up my favorite husband Baron who I want to cuddle with all the time, how would he fair with the himbo puppy boy steamer, especially if he were a very cuddly puppy boy?

Peak Himbo + Thembo relationship-

Baron is a pretty cuddly demon himself, and I picture him to have always wanted a puppy, but considering his size and strength that's not the best idea unless the dog is supernatural in nature as well. When Baron comes across Puppyboy - that desire is immediately thrown out the window. Who needs an actual dog when you've got a lovable hybrid ready to pounce on you at any chance they get. Baron would drop everything for one of their hugs and is blown off his giant ass when Puppyboy picks him up with little to no problem commenting they've lifted weights around his size before at the gym. Nobody's carried him since he was a tiny demon and bro is so confused, horny, in love at the same time.

Puppyboy better have some gym equipment at home because Baron is getting them kicked out for being their hypeman, and starting shit with other gym goers just for a passing glance at his puppy. People have brought attention to his muscles in a sexual manner before, but Baron never really understood those weirdos until he sees a sweaty Puppyboy during or post workout. His day would be a million times better if it were his head between puppy's thighs instead of whatever equipment they were using. Gives Puppy things to crush to show off their impressive strength and so he can drool all over them.

-

Puppyboy Reader: Yo, Baron - mind if I pick you up?

Baron: Eh, I don't dunno. I wouldn't want you to get hurt or

[Puppyboy hooks their arms around Baron's waist and lifts him a few inches off the ground.]

Puppyboy: Whoa! That was easier than I thought. You're lighter than you look!

Baron, wrapping his legs and tails around them: Well this is.... New. Do you think you can carry me to your bedroom?

Puppyboy: Probably... Hang on... I think I'm being poked by some... things?

Baron: Not saying this is what's going on, but let's say I am so unbearably horny right now I'm a little light headed and those are my dicks touching you. Would that be a problem?

-

Puppyboy: Hey, guys! Today's stream will be on how many watermelons I can crush with my thighs before I get tired. My bud Baron said he'd eat the leftovers so there won't be any waste.

Baron: Long as I get to lick the chunks off your thighs I'll gladly to help you with anything. I'll even bury a body for you.... Do you have one for me to bury? Please say you do-

[newchangestf]

A new bunny in the gym

My roommate Ryan has always been telling me I need to loosen up and stop taking life so seriously. Maybe he's got a point. While I spend all my time in the library studying he spends it at the gym or having fun at the club, and being bisexual he never has a probably finding a fuck.

I finally relented and joined him at the gym. The place was huge. Full of men of different sizes, all with bulging muscles. Though I was straight, not that I had much luck with girls, I could appreciate that all the men here were pretty attractive.

As I didn't know what to do or what to wear at the gym Ryan took me under his wing. Giving me socks, shorts, trainers, t-shirt, baseball cap, and a jockstrap to wear.

I was hesitant at first with the jockstrap, the black material didn't exactly look like it was new. It certainly wasn't something I would usually wear either.

"Don't worry bro, it's what all the guys wear!" Ryan promised.

I thought that I should listen to him considering that this was his domain so I done as I was told.

We started with some squats. Ryan showing me how to do stretch properly and safely use the weights. As I started squatting I felt the huge weights actually become easier and easier each time .

"Your legs are going to be so thick after this!" Ryan called out.

"...and so will that ass" he muttered under his breath.

We moved around the gym using the different machines. Each time they became easier to use really quickly. What I didn't notice was my body changing.

Muscle was quickly building up across my body. Turning me into a meaty gym bunny.

At the same time all those hours spent in the library were slipping away. Which explains why I didn't notice the changes.

It also explains why I didn't notice that all the guys in the gym were all very similar. About half were strong tall beasts with huge muscles. Whereas the rest were smaller, leaner but just as muscly with round bouncing asses.

Our final exercise was a couple of bench presses. I lay on my back with Ryan standing above my head helping me lift.

As he did he lowered his crotch towards my face. Breathing in his sweaty musk I felt everything click in place. My cock harded immediately and I became lost in his trance.

"I see you're changes have finally finished" Ryan said.

Putting the bar into the rack I stopped and looked up at him.

"You weren't living life and I was sick of coming back to the apartment to find you studying and not having fun. So when I found out about this place I had to bring you. Now that you're a muscle bro you can join me and have fun."

I just let the words sink in.

Ryan continued. "The best bit is that now you're just a cock hungry gym bunny. With an ass like that you'll be getting plenty of dick. Most of it mine. You won't even remember being straight."

---

That was four months ago. He was right. Now we go to the gym everyday together. Him a towering hulk of a man and me, a lean twunk with an ass that just begs to be fucked.

And it is fucked, all the time. I quickly grew to love the feeling and now I can't get enough. When Ryan isn't free I sometimes get help from the other guys at the gym. They're always happy to stretch me out after a session.

Life is so much easier now, why did I waste all that time in the library?

_____

First time writing, let me know your thoughts!

[screaminglygay]

Burning match

pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader

summary: shutting off your feeling is not the best idea, but talking about them hurts too much.

warnings: swearing, character gets badly hurt, mentions of injuries, men, reader being stubborn, some angst with happy ending:)

word count: 5.5k

an: this one is little longer, but i didnt feel like cutting it in halfway, hehe, hope you´ll like it!:)

part one | part two

!MDNI!

"Come on, try again." Natasha says as she hold the lap for you to hit it.

The past few weeks, you´ve been trying to keep yourself busy. Small missions. Paper work. Training with Natasha. Spending time with MJ and Peter in Queens. Everything to keep Kate away. Everyone realized that something is wrong, that´s the main reason, why Fury didn´t give you a long or a hard missions. He couldn´t risk you being reckless, but he also didn´t want to keep you out of the game.

"I´m trying!" You yell as you hit the boxing paw, but you didn´t cover your face, so Natasha hits you back.

"Your mind is somewhere else. I need you to be here with me." The redhead put her hand back up, for you to try again. "If we would be on the field, you´d be dead by now." She states, hoping it will motivate you, but it did the exact opossite.

"That would be great, actually." You try to hit her paw, but she put her hands down.

"(Y/N)…" Natasha looks at you and takes off the paws.

"What are you doing?" You are supposed to train for another fifty minutes.

"We´re having a break. Sit down." You sit down, taking off your gloves. "Are you gonna talk to me, or just pretend like everything is great?" Natasha sits down as well.

You shrug. "It's complicated, Nat. I don't even know where to start."

"Start at the beginning. I'm here to listen." She looks at you.

"It's about feelings. Complicated feelings," you admit, fidgeting with the edge of your gloves.

"Remember when I used to have a crush on Wanda? Well, it turns out those feelings are just exchanged with a different feelings.. with different someone…"

Natasha nods, her expression encouraging you to continue.

"It´s Kate," you continue, the weight of the unspoken emotions settling between you. "I never expected to feel this way again, but it's there. And I can't face her. I can't face anyone, really."

Natasha's eyes reflect empathy as she absorbs your words. "Feelings are messy, (Y/N), but running from them won't make them disappear. You've got to confront them, understand them, and then decide what to do next."

You look down at your hands, the moment feeling like a barrier between you and the vulnerability of your emotions. "I already decided, I don´t want to confront them at all. It´s just… overwhelming."

Natasha reaches over, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You don't have to figure it all out at once. Take it one step at a time. Talk to Kate. See where it goes. And remember, I'm here for you, no matter what. And like with Wanda it either will go away or you will figure it out."

You sigh. "It was different with Wanda. In many ways. I don´t think it will be the same. They are both totally different people." You say as you think about that time of your life.

"What was different? Having a bro code with Pietro?" Natasha asks, without missing a beat and that makes you smile and roll your eyes.

The door swings open, your gaze lifts, only to meet the eyes of the archer you've been succesfully avoiding. Instantly, your posture tenses, a reflexive response to the presence.

Kate walks in, but stops as she notices you´re with Natasha, "can I have a minute with (Y/N)?"

Natasha looks at you and you just nod. Which makes Natasha stand up and leave the room.

"So…" Kate starst, but she is actually not really sure how to start at all.

"So…" You look at her and she sits down next to you."You had a sparing session with Natasha?" Kate asks, looking at the gloves on the ground.

"Um- yeah, yeah, I had." You nod as well as Kate.

The room holds an unspoken tension. Kate breaks the silence with a question that cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"Am I too annoying?" Kate's gaze is probing, searching for confirmation in your eyes.

Your response is quick, "What? No! Of course not!"

Kate interrupts, her tone cutting, "You've been off. So what's your problem?"

"I don´t have a problem." You shrug.

"You don´t? Well even Mike thinks you´re kinda off…" Kate states.

A scoff escapes your lips involuntarily, and you mutter mockingly, "oh Mike thinks that.."

The archer looks at you and raise her eyebrow, "what´s that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it, nothing." You look away, already feeling like you gonna explode.

"Say it." You can feel that the atmosphere didn´t clear out at all.

"No, it´s nothing important." You look back at her.

"(Y/N), say it!" Kate is on the verge of exploding too, you can feel it and even see it.

"Okay, fine! Your boyfriend, he´s a dick." Okay, that slipped out. Shit, that shouldn´t have slipped out.

Oh god.

You succesfully shocked the archer, she is completly stunned. "What's your problem with Mike?" Kate's voice rises, defensive and confrontational.

"It's this something about him." you take a deep breath, the tension escalating. "You deserve better." There it is, you finally said it. Maybe a little differently then you wanted, but you did.

The declaration becomes a spark igniting an unexpected blaze. Kate's eyes narrow, a mixture of frustration and anger surfacing. "You don't know him like I do. You don't get to judge my choices. Who do you think you are to say these things?!"

The argument escalates, a collision of conflicting emotions, and before you know it, the room becomes a battleground once again. Before you could find your words, trying to save it, she speaks once again.

"I don't need this. I thought we could talk, but clearly, I was wrong."

And with that, Kate storms out, leaving you alone in the sparring room, the echoes of the confrontation lingering in the air like a haunting melody.

Fuck.

...

After the heated confrontation with Kate, the sparring room feels like a vacuum, the lingering echoes of the argument still resonating in the air. Hours pass, marked by the ticking clock and the persistent sound of rain against the windows. Eventually, you decide to venture back to the living room, a sense of emptiness accompanying each step.

As you enter the living room, you open the fridge in hopes that you will find a fresh icy cold water bottle. Finally you have a little luck in your life and there it is. As you take few sips from it you speak out. "Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., have you seen Kate around?" you inquire, your voice betraying a hint of sadness.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds with a measured tone, "Miss Bishop is currently on a mission with Mr. Rogers and Miss Belova. They left a forty minutes ago."

A pang of regret tightens your chest. The opportunity to apologize and mend things with Kate slips through your fingers, replaced by a sense of longing and missed chances.

"Alright, thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.," you mutter, retreating to a corner of the living room. The rain outside matches the melancholy mood within, creating a backdrop for the emotional storm you find yourself caught in.

...

You find solace in the embrace of your bed, its comfort offering a temporary refuge from the emotional turmoil that swirls within. The room, dimly lit by the glow of the bedside lamp, becomes a sanctuary where you can confront the tangled web of feelings.

Wrapped in the warmth of blankets, you replay the events in your mind, analyzing each word and gesture. Regret sticks with you, and the longing to bridge the gap between you and Kate grows with each passing moment. The desire to apologize, to untangle the knots of misunderstanding, becomes a persistent ache that refuses to dissipate.

But was it a misunderstanding? Or just something you held in yourself for a really long time?

As the rain continues its rhythmic dance against the window, time seems to stretch, each moment weighed down by the emotional heaviness. The glow of the bedside clock ticks away, a constant reminder of the day slipping through your fingers.

Messages from MJ and Peter light up your phone, concerned inquiries that you choose to ignore for now. You will answer them later. Maybe.

The dim glow of the bedside clock casts a faint light in the room as your phone incessantly lights up with notifications. Ignoring it initially, you think it´s MJ or Peter again. However, the persistent buzzing becomes too insistent to ignore, pulling you back to the harsh reality beyond the cocoon of your thoughts.

A new notification pops up, catching your attention. It's from Yelena, and the message sends a shiver down your spine. "Kate got into an accident. We're at the hospital."

The words hang in the air, a chilling realization that transcends the emotional turmoil you've been grappling with. The cocoon of solitude suddenly feels fragile, the threads unraveling in the face of an unforeseen crisis.

Before you can fully process the gravity of the situation, your phone vibrates with an incoming call from Natasha. With a sense of foreboding, you answer, your voice catching in your throat.

"(Y/N), it's about Kate. There's been an accident," Natasha's voice is steady but laced with an underlying tension. "They're at the St.Nicholas. Steve said it's serious. You need to come, but please drive carefuly." Natasha´s voice cracks and that makes your stomach drops even lower.

Without a second thought, you spring into action, a surge of adrenaline propelling you out of the room and into the stormy night. The rain outside mirrors the tempest within as you navigate the path to the hospital, the glow of your phone lighting the way with messages that now hold a newfound urgency.

The rain-drenched streets blur as you rush towards the hospital, heart pounding in your chest. The vivid lights of the emergency room entrance greet you as you finally arrive, breathless and soaked. Your gaze scans the room, finding Natasha, Steve, and Yelena huddled together, their faces etched with worry.

Ignoring the pull of exhaustion, you hurry towards them, relief and anxiety warring within you. Natasha, noticing your arrival, steps forward, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and understanding.

"(Y/N), she's stable now," Natasha says softly, her hand resting reassuringly on yours as she stops you from coming into the room. "But they won't let us visit her just yet."

A mix of emotions floods over you – relief that Kate is stable, yet a lingering unease at the unknown extent of her injuries. The hospital's sterile ambiance amplifies the tension in the air as Steve steps forward, his usually stoic expression betraying a deep concern.

"There was a room filled with explosive material, and it detonated while she was near it," Steve explains, the weight of the situation evident in his voice. "She's lucky to be alive."

As Steve explains, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach. The image of Kate, caught in the blast, flashes in your mind. The once trivial disagreements now seem insignificant, overshadowed by the reality of Kate's perilous situation.

Yelena remains silent, her eyes revealing the worry she can't put into words. The waiting room becomes a space suspended in time, a limbo between the fear of the unknown and the hope for Kate's recovery.

For now, the only option is to wait – to wait for news, for permission to visit Kate, and, above all, for a sign that she will pull through.

...

Time seems to stretch as the group anxiously awaits news about Kate. The sterile waiting room is filled with hushed conversations and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment. The air is thick with anticipation until finally, a doctor emerges, breaking the tense silence.

"Miss Bishop is stable. She's going to be okay," the doctor announces, a collective sigh of relief escaping from those gathered. "However, she needs time to recover. The explosion caused many injuries, and she's currently sleeping."

Steve, Yelena, and Natasha exchange grateful glances, and a sense of gratitude washes over them. The doctor continues, "You can visit her. We'll keep you updated on her progress."

As the trio heads toward Kate's room, you hesitate. The relief is palpable, but an overwhelming desire to be close to Kate prevails. Determined, you follow them into the room.

Kate lies peacefully on the hospital bed, surrounded by the sterile white walls. Machines softly hum, monitoring her vital signs. You can hear Yelena talk in russian, which you don´t understand at all.

Natasha places a gentle hand on Yelena´s shoulder, exchanging a few quiet words with her and Steve before leading them out, leaving you alone with your friend.

The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of monitors casting a gentle light on Kate's sleeping form. The exhaustion from the events of the day catches up with you, but an unwavering need to be there for Kate keeps you by her side.

You pull a chair close to the bed, taking Kate's hand in yours. The rhythmic beeping of the machines becomes a soothing backdrop as you sit there, unmoving, lost in the quiet vigil.

"I´m really sorry, Katie." You whisper, so much regret in those words. Hours pass, marked by the steady rise and fall of Kate's chest. Your mind is a tempest of emotions – relief, worry, gratitude. The ordeal has left you physically and emotionally drained. The chair feels uncomfortable, but you can't bring yourself to leave Kate's side.

As the night wears on, fatigue sets in. The hospital room becomes your bedroom now, interrupted only by the soft sounds of medical equipment. Unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids, you lean against the chair and finally fall asleep too.

...

Morning light filters through the hospital room's window, casting a soft glow on the still figure of Kate. The rhythmic sounds of medical equipment persist, a constant reminder of the fragile balance between recovery and the unknown. You wake up, the stiffness in your muscles a testament to the night spent in the uncomfortable chair.

The door creaks open, and Natasha enters, holding a small tray with a cup of water and a plate of food. Her eyes, though tired, hold a reassuring warmth.

"Hey," Natasha says softly, offering a small smile. "I thought you might need this."

Tears well up in your eyes as you take in the caring gesture. "Thanks, Nat."

Natasha places the tray on the table and pulls a chair closer. "How are you holding up?"

You shrug and glance at Kate, her peaceful slumber giving you a momentary respite. "The last time we talked, we had a fight," you confess, your voice choked with emotion.

Natasha leans forward, a comforting presence. "(Y/N), these things happen, especially in our line of work. What's important now is that she's going to be okay."

"I was too blind to let her be happy," you admit, the weight of regret settling in. "I should have never said anything."

Natasha reaches out, squeezing your hand gently. "You care about her, and that's what matters. The rest can be worked out later." She encourages you to eat and drink, a gentle reminder of the need to take care of yourself. The food feels tasteless, but with Natasha's support, each bite becomes a small triumph.

"Kate is strong, and she's going to pull through. You being here for her matters more than you realize," Natasha reassures, offering a comforting presence in the quiet hospital room.

Her words are stuck in your head. You are here. You are. Where is Mike?

"He's still not here, hasn't even bothered to check in," you mutter to Natasha, a sense of frustration coloring your tone.

Natasha furrows her brow, sensing the underlying tension. "Mike? Maybe he's just dealing with things in his own way."

"So if you had the love of your life in a hospital you wouldn´t care to find them?" You are once again getting angry, even though you are strongly agaisnt the man, maybe you are overreacting. Or maybe you are right the whole time. Thoughts are running in and out of your head. Too much things at the moment.

"(Y/N), people react differently in situations like these. Give him some time."

But the silence from Mike speaks louder than any explanation Natasha could offer. The realization stirs a mix of emotions — frustration, disappointment, and a strange sense of feeling you couldn´t name yet.

Natasha leaves the hospital room, offering a reassuring smile as she heads to the cafeteria to check up on Steve and Yelena. The door closes behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts and sleeping Kate.

After some time, Natasha returns with Yelena, her expression serious. "Steve's heading back to the compound to take care of some calls and paperwork. He'll be back soon," she informs you.

The hospital room feels both empty and crowded, a paradoxical mix of solitude and shared concern. Yelena, seated by the window, looks up as Natasha speaks. "We´ll stay here with you for a while," Nat offers.

Grateful for the company, you nod, and Natasha takes a seat in the corner, while Yelena sits by Kate's bedside. The atmosphere in the room becomes more subdued, the weight of the events settling in.

After a little bit you step out to get some fresh air, a knot of tension lingers. The hallway outside is quiet, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. As you turn to the bathrooms, you notice someone standing a little way down the corridor — Mike, Kate's boyfriend.

His presence catches you off guard, and a mixture of emotions surges within. The frustration from the previous thoughts intensifies, and a sense of unease accompanies the realization that he's here, yet the silence persists.

Mike looks up from his phone, noticing you. His expression is a mix of surprise and discomfort. The air between you is thick with unspoken words and unresolved tensions. It's a moment frozen in time, the hospital hallway becoming a silent arena for a confrontation that has been brewing beneath the surface.

Yelena and Natasha remain inside the room, unaware of the encounter in the hallway. The decision of whether to address the situation or let it linger hangs in the air, and as you lock eyes with Mike. You know Kate would not want you to go up to him and start a fight, but you can´t help it.

The air in the hospital hallway thickens as you approach Mike, who seems taken aback by your presence. A mix of frustration and anger simmers beneath the surface, waiting to erupt.

"It took you a while to finally arrive," you say, the words laced with a mixture of scoff and irritation.

Mike doesn't respond with an apology or explanation. Instead, he meets your challenging gaze and, with a dismissive tone, retorts, "Why do you care?"

The confrontation escalates, each word becoming a verbal jab as the tension between you intensifies. Mike, rather than showing concern for Kate or acknowledging the gravity of the situation, responds with rudeness and indifference.

"Why do I care?!" There it is, the sharp exchange of words. "If she was my girlfriend, I would call, text—I would run into every hospital, until I would find her!" you shout, your frustration boiling over. But Mike remains unmoved, his calm demeanor only fueling the fire.

"But she's not," he speaks with an unsettling calmness.

The words hang in the air, a harsh reality that slaps you in the face. "What?" you stammer, caught off guard by the bluntness of his statement.

"You've said it yourself, if. She is not your girlfriend," Mike replies, his words cutting through the emotional turmoil like a knife.

The realization hits hard, the vulnerability beneath your anger exposed. The hurt, disappointment, and frustration converge into a surge of raw emotion.

Natasha, hearing the escalating confrontation, steps in, grabbing your hand to stop you from saying or doing anything impulsive. "You won't help her by this, (Y/N)," she says calmly, her grip a grounding force amid the tempest of emotions.

The hospital hallway becomes a silent witness to the tangled threads of relationships, the fractures laid bare in the harsh light of truth. As Natasha intervenes, you take a deep breath, grappling with the storm of emotions within. The focus shifts from the confrontation to the shared concern for Kate's well-being, a reminder that in the face of adversity, unity is more crucial than discord.

Natasha makes you take a few deep breaths, trying to diffuse the tension. Frustration still simmers within you, and you can't shake off the urge to do something impulsive. Your words to Natasha echo your volatile emotions.

"He's being an arrogant idiot," you mutter to Natasha, your anger palpable. "I swear, if I didn't care about Kate, I'd punch him."

Mike, unfazed, wears an arrogant smile as if reveling in the chaos he has incited. The atmosphere in the hospital corridor remains charged, the unspoken conflict simmering beneath the surface. With a frustrated scoff you finally manage to go to the bathroom, to freshen up a little bit, or at least calm the anger burning inside you.

In the midst of the tension, a weak voice cuts through the air. Kate stirs in her hospital bed, her gaze flickering around the room as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. Her eyes land on Yelena, who is engrossed in a magazine.

"What the hell was that?" Kate asks, her voice a mix of confusion and concern.

"Kate! You´re awake! Oh and that? (Y/N)." Yelena puts the magazine down.

"Is she okay?" Kate asks without a beat.

Yelena hesitates for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "She's… okay."

The ambiguity in Yelena's response doesn't escape Kate's notice. "Whats that supposed to mean?" Kate´s voice still very raspy from just waking up.

"Well curently she´s cursing at your boy for being a dick." The blonde chuckles, as she´s rooting for your win.

"She is?" Kate's eyes widen with a mix of surprise and concern.

"Yeah… I heard Natasha step in, too sad I wanted to see (Y/N) throw some fists, she could take him.." Yelena looks at Kate, "what? I´m just stating the facts."

Kate tries to sit up and leave the bed, but Yelena immedietly notices and tries to keep her in bed. "No, Kate, stay." But that doesn´t stop the injured archer.

Ignoring Yelena's attempts to keep her in bed, Kate go out the room, trying to piece together the events that led her here until her gaze finally lands on Natasha, a silent guardian in the midst of the unfolding drama. Mike´s back is facing Kate as she somehow walked out of her hospital room.

"You all are crazy, who do you think you guys are? Mighty heroes?" He laughs "At least Kate will realize how useless her bow and arrow is…"

"Mike…" Natasha tries as she meets Kate´s blue eyes. Her posture softens a little bit with relief as she notices that Kate is awake.

"If her dad was around maybe she would get some sences knocked into her, this is ridicilous. Pretending to be a hero." Kate barerly stands there, she hopes this is just a big hallucination from the pills they gave her. "And who is your inspiration, hm? A- a- hooker mixed with Lara Croft?"

Natasha steps forward with a slight smile on her face, "If I was you, I would choose your words more wisely."

"What did you just said?" Kate jumps in with a question, her voice cracking up a little bit.

Mike turns around, completly shifting his body language, "oh babe! You are awake!" He rushes to her side but Yelena is quick to walk out of the room and push him away.

"Возьми ее за руки, и я сломаю тебе все кости в твоем чертовом теле." Yelena is really ready to strike.

(translation: Get your fucking hands on her and I´ll break all of your bones in your god damn body.)

"Leave me alone, she is my girlfriend!" The guy states. "Mine, understand?!" He tries to fight off the Widow, but if anything it was more of a sad try on his side.

The dismissive tone and lack of accountability in Mike's words infuriate Kate. Her face contorts with anger as she delivers a stern message. "You need to leave, Mike. I don't want to see you."

"Babe-" Mike's another attempt at a protest is met with a stern gaze from Kate, cutting him off. "Go home, Mike. I need some space."

"It´s because of your freak friend, right? That poor (Y/N)…" He somehow gets Yelena´s hands off of him and adjust his jacket.

Kate's eyes narrow at the mention of your name, and a wave of frustration washes over her. "Go."

Before Mike can respond Natasha is leading him out of the sight, while Yelena helps Kate back to her bed.

Kate nods, a mix of gratitude and relief in her eyes. "Thanks, guys. Now, can someone fill me in on everything that happened?"

As Yelena explains everything from the mission to this moment, Natasha, with her keen sense of observation, follows the emotional trail to find you in the bathroom. The tension and frustration from the earlier confrontation still linger, and she approaches you with a steady but understanding gaze.

"Kate is awake," Natasha announces, her words breaking through the quiet reflection in the bathroom.

The news propels you into action. Without a second thought, you practically sprint back to the hospital room where Kate is, your heart racing with a mix of anxienty and relief.

With Yelena and Natasha giving you some privacy, the atmosphere in the hospital room becomes more intimate. Kate looks at you with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity, and you can sense the unspoken questions lingering in the air.

"You really went to fight for me out there," Kate says, breaking the silence. Her voice is soft, filled with appreciation.

You give her a small smile. "Of course, Kate. He´s such an- anytime."

Kate chuckles at your words, "I appreciate it. More than you know." You find yourself sit next to her side once again. "I just couldn't stand by and let him hurt you. You mean a lot to me."

Kate's expression softens, and she reaches out to take your hand. "You mean a lot to me too. I didn't expect anyone to stand up for me like that."

"Well, get used to it," you say with a playful grin. "I've got your back. And now more than ever, miss walking into a room with explossives." You playfully tease her.

Kate just laughs, even though it hurts her a little bit.

"So, what did you do in the hallway, before Nat stepped in?"

You can't help but chuckle, the tension dissipating. "Oh nothing, just me telling off to your not-so-charming boyfriend."

Kate raises an eyebrow wanting to say something totally different then the thing she left out. "Hm, alright then."

"You should get some rest," you smile as you put the blanket over her. "I´m fine, actually I don´t feel much pain." Kate says as she visible fights off the sleepiness.

"That´s because you´re high, Bishop." You chuckle.

"Hm… interesting, I didn´t though about it." She opens her eyes. "You´re so high."

"Yup. Probably, I mean… this stuff is good. It got the kick." She smiles as she shifts a little bit in her bed and she finally drift off.

...

As the days pass, you continue to be by Kate's side, offering support and companionship during her recovery in the hospital. Your presence becomes a source of comfort, and together, you navigate the challenges of rehabilitation. Feeling like you two are even closer than before, feeling so good around her as she does. You feel complete again.

Not a signle thought about Mike in yours or Kate´s head.

Finally, the day arrives when Kate is well enough to leave the hospital. You assist her in the wheelchair, wheeling her out of the hospital room and through the corridors. As you approach the compound, the familiar faces of the Avengers greet both of you with smiles and cheers. They've organized a "Welcome Back" party for Kate, a celebration of her recovery and return.

With the wheelchair parked in the midst of the festive atmosphere, Kate insists, "I can handle the wheelchair on my own, you know." You respond with a playful grin, "I like to push you around."

The words carry a lighthearted warmth, an acknowledgment of the bond that has grown stronger during these trying times. Kate chuckles, appreciating the sentiment behind your words.

Throughout the party, you continue to take care of Kate, ensuring she's comfortable and included in the festivities. The Avengers express their relief and happiness at seeing Kate back on her feet, and the atmosphere is one of shared joy and camaraderie.

As the night progresses, the two of you find a quiet corner to sit and talk. The glow of the party surrounds you, but in that moment, it's the connection between you and Kate that shines the brightest.

"You've been a real friend through all of this," Kate says, sincerity in her eyes.

"I just wanted to be here for you," you reply, a soft smile on your face. After a little you look back at her. "I had this crazy idea. Do you trust me, Bishop?" you ask, a playful smile on your face.

Kate looks at you with a mix of curiosity and a hint of nervous anticipation. "Do I have a choice?" she replies, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Not really," you admit, your eyes dancing with excitement. "Fine, fine. I trust you." Kate nods.

"Okay, then get ready, because we´re going for a ride!" You say as you help her get back on the wheelchair. "It took me a little bit to figure it out, but I watched some youtube tutorials and I think it should work." You ramble to Kate, who still have zero idea what you´re talking about.

"Close your eyes, please,"you instruct, and Kate, now used to your playful antics, complies with a smirk.

As she close her eyes shut, you push the wheelchair, outside. Little cold breeze hitting the both of you. You push her infront of the homemade ramp, you made couple nights ago, thanks to some random guy on YouTube.

"Alright, open your eyes," you announce, stepping back to reveal your creation.

Kate opens her eyes, and her gaze shifts from you to the makeshift ramp. A mixture of surprise and excitement lights up her face. "What's all this? You won´t push me off, right?" she asks, with a giggle.

"I thought we could use a change of scenery," you say with a grin.

"And since our favorite place is the rooftop, I figured, why not bring it to you?" You smile, being really pround of what you´ve build. Deep down still hoping it won´t break as soon as Kate´s wheelchair will go on it.

"You built this?" Kate's eyes widen with appreciation as she takes in the effort you've put into creating a way for her to join you on the rooftop. You just nod at her question.

"This is amazing," Kate says, her voice filled with gratitude. "To the roof and beyond!" If this wouldn´t be Kate, you would find this quote use very cheesy, but since it´s Kate, you had to let out a chuckle.

With careful precision, you guide Kate up the improvised ramp, ensuring her safety as she rides to the rooftop. Once you both reach the top, a breathtaking view of the city awaits, and the sounds of the party below are replaced by the serene hum of the night.

Seated together on the rooftop, surrounded by the city lights, you and Kate share a moment of quiet companionship. The homemade ramp, a symbol of your dedication and the uniqueness of your connection, becomes a testament to the lengths you're willing to go to make each other happy.

As you sit side by side, overlooking the cityscape, Kate breaks the silence with a sincere look in her eyes. "I'm sorry about not listening to you."

You meet her gaze, the connection between you deepening. "I'm sorry about being right about your boy," you say with a playful laugh. Kate chuckles. "Well, I think it's good to burst out the bubble. He's not my boy anymore."

"What?" The shock in your voice is palpable.

"Yeah. I broke up with him, and he replied with a thumbs up and a 'You weren't even worth it.' So…"

"Oh my god, Kate, I'm so sorry-" You instinctively reach for her hand.

"No, you're not," she interrupts with a reassuring smile.

"Not about him, but… you don't deserve that. Who does he think he is? Oh my god, I'll tell him-" Now it's Kate's turn to take your hand. "Okay, Rambo, calm down," Kate teases. "I'm fine, really. And he´s the one not worth it."

"So he wasn´t the chosen one?" You tease.

"Oh that´t a low blow, (Y/L/N)" She roll her eyes, but laugh along with you.

As the night unfolds, the atmosphere between you two is not just warm; it's a comforting embrace that you don´t want ever lose again, even if it means being just friends with the archer.

Thank you for reading!!!

[melehound]

141 + König catch you staring! GN READER!

Cw: a little cursing I got a little mess with this one 💀

Kyle “gaz” garrick

He’s so cocky 🙄

He thinks his physique is very impressive and he works out a lot (every time he sees a mirror he stands in front of it flexing and checking himself out for 5 straight minutes 💀) so when he catches you staring he feels validated

The second he catches you staring he can’t help but smile like a dork

After that he starts snapping you those shirtless pics in front of his mirror randomly like “whoops didn’t mean to send those to you my bad lol haha 😛” like mf yes you did 💀

John price

He does it on purpose he’s been doing it since you met him he just looks at you to make SURE your watching and then will start working out (he has a makeshift gym in his cold ass basement)

If your in a relationship with him you always know where to find him if he’s not in the bathroom manscaping he’s in his cold ass basement working his ass off

He likes when you watch him work out it makes him feel great about himself and he’ll say something like “I’ve still got it, yeah?” When he catches you staring

John “soap” mactavish

Turns it into a full flexing contest with himself he turns you into his mirror

He really likes to work out he’s not like a gym bro or anything but he likes it enough to do it outside of work biweekly

Sometimes before you pick him up from work he’ll be all sweaty because he wants to take a shower with you after working out but he’s a big fan of sending you shirtless pics with 0 context or warning

You can be in the middle of cooking dinner and he’ll send you like 5 different pictures of him flexing and posing in the gym mirror for absolutely no reason

Simon “ghost” Riley

Genuinely either didn’t know that you stare or he’s doing all this physical stuff in front of you on purpose it could be a mood thing

Like if you walk in on him lifting he’s not worried about you looking but if you were to be hanging out with him and THEN he’d start working out then that’s a sign he wants to see if you’ll stare but it looks like hes the one staring and he’s still wearing his mask so it’s so obvious when he’s staring 👁👁

He’s scaring you a lil bit it turns into a little bit of a staring contest (he almost drops a weight on his foot because he’s not paying attention)

After that he’d try and do what gaz did but he’s a little worried because his old broken decrepit ass phone has such shitty quality but somehow you can see all the scars on his ribs and torso so when he takes shirtless pictures he looks like a red room victim

König

He also takes so much pride in his body type it makes him feel more confident sometimes he thinks his physique is slipping because of how much he likes to eat

So when he catches you staring he gets a little burst of confidence and maybe he’ll flex at you a little bit MAYBE

But most of his happiness is inward he thinks about it before he goes to sleep that night smiling kicking his feet like a teenage boy and he tried to send you shirtless pics on snap but he was sweating his ass off and his hands were all wet and he chickened out

((✿: “she’s gotta be running out of cute hello kitty stuffed animal headers!” think again mfs))

[ugh-yoongi]

Hi. Can I request a drabble with Jungkook where they’re in a secret relationship and they think their friends are not aware of it but they’re actually really bad at hiding it. Thank you!

decided to combine these two. thank you both for the requests!

this one ran away from me but was really fun, so we're going to ignore the wordcount. hope you both enjoy! <3

obviously

pairing: jungkook x f. reader genre: secret relationship au, roommate au; crack, fluff warnings: two idiots engaging in idiot behavior, swearing, yoongi is tortured by reader's use of emojis, drinking/alcohol, one reference to jungkook wearing women's underwear but it isn't a thing, unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 3.7k

In retrospect, getting married at nineteen wasn’t your brightest idea.

Not your worst, either, because at least you’d chosen well.

There are undoubtedly far worse men to have as your ex-husband than Kim Namjoon, who had also gotten caught up in all those romantic cliches about young love; had also been inflicted with whatever illness made you believe getting married so young was smart and cool; had also woken up one day and thought what the fuck are we doing and asked if you wanted to call it quits.

You did.

And even though you loved Namjoon, over time it turned into that platonic life partner kind of love and not that all-encompassing, love of your life, eternal kind of love. So, Namjoon offered to pay for the divorce with his grad school stipend and took his name off the lease so you could find a new roommate and insisted on meeting up every other week for takeout and cheap alcohol because he had a whole thing about not wanting it to be weird.

Now, here you sit, years removed from the most affectionate and anticlimactic divorce of all time, and you wonder what could be more weird than your ex-husband making you a Tinder profile.

“I know what you like,” he insists, cheeks ruddy from the wine. Namjoon talks endlessly on a good day, but he’s nearly impenetrable when he’s got some merlot in him. “No one’s more qualified to do this than me.” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Except you, of course,” he hurriedly adds.

“Have you ever stopped to think—”

Namjoon heaves an exaggerated groan, hand to his forehead as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “You have no idea.”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever stopped to think,” you repeat, “that there might be a reason I don’t have a Tinder? Or any dating profile, for that matter?”

“Yeah, you’re obviously still in love with me,” he jokes, laughing wildly at the absurdity of it; elbows you in the side as he wiggles his eyebrows. What could be weirder than your ex-husband treating you like one of his bros? “But alas, I’ve moved on, and so the time has come for you to also—”

“Either shut up or drink more,” you interject, filling his glass nearly to the brim. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this.”

Namjoon, seemingly out of arguments, simply hums in acknowledgment. Downs half the wine you’d just poured him, because out of the two options you’d presented him with, it’s the more realistic choice. Asks, “What’s your preferred age range?” before snorting another laugh and setting it from 18 to 50 for his own amusement.

“You know, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Why not?” he retorts, and there’s no judgment there, just genuine curiosity. You know he’s just having a laugh, would delete it and never mention it again if you asked him to, but the thing is—

The front door opens, and there stands your roommate, arms full of bags from Daiso. “Hey, ba—”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks when he sees your ex-husband. Coughs to cover the pet name that nearly tumbled out of his mouth and lifts his hand in a wave. Namjoon watches the way the weight of the bags causes the muscles in Jungkook’s forearm to flex and shoots you a look. Maybe he does know what you like, after all.

“Hi, Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook says, polite but still awkward, even after all these years. Can’t seem to shake it, no matter how hard he tries. “What are you two up to?”

Namjoon is none the wiser, used to the hushed awe Jungkook always adopts when he addresses him. Polite and endlessly kind because his mother raised him to never be anything less, but only ever jittery around Namjoon. Doesn’t act like this around any of your other friends; takes Seokjin’s teasing in stride and dishes it right back, but never Namjoon. Would probably rather die.

So Namjoon just waves back, says, “Hi, Jungkook-ah,” before he returns his attention to his phone. Doesn’t look up when you abandon him on the couch to help unpack the bags. Says, “I’m signing her up for Tinder so she can finally get laid,” and also doesn’t look up when Jungkook chokes on an inhale and one of the bags splits in half.

Before he moved in with you, Jungkook lived with Hoseok.

It’d gone great, all things considered. Jungkook couldn’t have asked for a better first roommate, fresh out of high school and his family home and hundreds of kilometers from the salty air of Busan. He’d nearly been sick with anxiety, all green around the edges, and Hoseok had pulled him into a hug and calmed his fraying nerves. Helped him with his homework and taught him how to cook and pecked at his heels like a mother hen when his room got too messy.

Just like he’s doing now.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, not at all able to hide the surprise in his voice when he pulls open the door and finds Hoseok on the other side. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok tuts. “I told you I was coming by this weekend to clean. I haven’t been here in weeks—”

“I know how to clean,” Jungkook argues, face growing warm from misplaced embarrassment, that Hoseok still thinks he’s a dumb kid who doesn’t know any better. “I said you didn’t have to come.”

His hyung’s face softens. “I know you know how to clean, Jungkookie, I’m just… I still feel responsible for you. You’re the first child I raised and released into the world.”

Jungkook sighs. Knows this is a losing argument. Opens the door wide enough to accommodate Hoseok and his bags of cleaning supplies, and doesn’t say a word as he follows Hoseok around the apartment even though he wants to say, I told you so. The entire place is spotless. There’s nothing to clean. No dust on the floor. Sparkling kitchen countertops. Laundry freshly-washed and hung on the drying rack by the window, warm in the midday sun. No toothpaste in the bathroom sink; no hard water stains on the shower glass.

All that’s left is Jungkook’s bedroom. That, too, is spotless, and Hoseok has never had a poker face and certainly can’t muster one now. “Why is it so clean in here?” he asks, taking in the bare floor, void of dirty clothes and whatever hobby equipment Jungkook had taken up that week; the pristinely-made bed with its hospital corners and fluffed pillows; the end tables that are suspiciously void of dust.

“Because I know how to clean,” Jungkook tartly replies, rolling his eyes. “I told you, there’s—”

“Are you even living in here?” Hoseok continues, either oblivious to or pointedly ignoring the way Jungkook starts to panic. “Because it doesn’t smell weird, either, and we all know that wasn’t the case before.”

“I have an air freshener.”

“Uh-huh.”

Hoseok continues his search. Actually praises Jungkook on the way he’d organized his clothes, the fact that everything in his drawers is folded and not shoved in haphazardly, that the few nice pieces he owns are hung in the closet. Kneels on the floor to check under the bed: empty, except for the XBox controller Taehyung had left behind the last time he came over to binge Valorant.

And Jungkook should’ve known—should’ve anticipated this—because it’s his Hobi-hyung and if there’s anything his Hobi-hyung is neurotic about it’s cleanliness and he’s got eyes like a hawk, makes him deadly efficient at spotting dust, so it’s really no surprise when he lets out a shrill a-ha! and pops out from under the bed with a pair of lacy underwear pinched between his fingers, but Jungkook should’ve anticipated it, anyway.

“And what do we have here?”

What Hoseok has here is Jungkook’s favorite pair of your underwear, but he can’t say that, so he just feels the way his face flushes with embarrassment again and wonders if he’d get out of the impending interrogation if he starts crying. “Um. Nothing?”

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Hoseok continues, voice animated and lilting, the teasing smile evident even though Jungkook can’t bring himself to look. “Can’t believe my little Jungkookie is all grown up.”

Jungkook doesn’t feel grown up, he feels mortified. Feels like he wants to sink right through the floor, like he wants to disappear for three to five business years. Feels like an idiot for being so insistent on all this secrecy, because now he can’t tell Hoseok that the lacy underwear he’s inspecting belongs to you and that the two of you have been together for a while, that it’s great, Jungkook thinks this might be It, and all he can do is blurt out the first thing he can think of, which is—

“It’s mine.” Hoseok’s head turns so fast his neck creaks. “I’m, uh. Experimenting.”

Hoseok shrieks. Jungkook shrieks. “What the fuck,” Hoseok shrieks again as he drops the underwear to the floor and kicks it under the bed. “Why wouldn’t you just say that—”

“That’s what you get for going through my stuff!”

Hoseok doesn’t come over to clean again.

On the weeks you don’t see Namjoon, you spend your Fridays having game night at Jimin’s.

It’s always a raucous affair—wouldn’t be possible any other way with the friend group you’ve got, now seamlessly blended with Jungkook’s—and it’s always your responsibility to supply the snacks. You pop into the store after work, leave with your arms full of junk like you looted the place, and the man in front of you in line takes so long you miss the bus and have to wait for the next.

Which leaves you very little time to get ready, so you rush through a shower to rinse off the work grime and grab the first pair of leggings and sweatshirt you see, slip your feet into slides that may or may not be yours, and run down the hall to Jimin’s.

Laughter can be heard from just outside the door—Hobi’s and Jin’s louder than everyone—and it makes you smile. Warmth blooms in your chest, all affection, and it has you feeling terribly fond of this group you’ve cobbled together. Has you smiling wider as you punch in Jimin’s door code and let yourself inside. Has you dropping off the snacks in the kitchen and wanting to hug the first person you find, except one Park Jimin has other plans.

“Why are you wearing Jungkookie’s hoodie?” he says in lieu of a greeting.

You look down. Certainly is Jungkook’s hoodie, mixed in with the clean laundry you hadn’t gotten around to putting away yet, and you’re sure there’s no hiding the way your jaw drops a little. The man in question is across the room, stuck in a conversation about fuck knows what with Taehyung, and he sends you a panicked look that can only be an instruction to lie your ass off. So you huff, say, “What d’you mean? This is mine,” and paint on the most annoyed expression you can conjure.

“It absolutely is not yours,” Jimin retorts.

This time you look annoyed for real. “Ugh, who cares? Since when did you become an expert on our personal belongings?”

When you first met Jimin, you’d been tricked into thinking he was a sweet, innocent angel; the kind of person who would do anything for his loved ones, including not interrogating them over whose clothes they wear. Quickly, you learned this was not the case. Jimin is lovely and kind, but he’s also perceptive as hell and shameless, so he smirks knowingly and answers with, “Since I bought them.”

Which… makes sense, you can admit. You vaguely recall Jungkook’s last birthday and the way he’d gasped and insisted on Jimin returning the hoodie he’d gifted him because it was too expensive and the way Jimin had laughed and waved him off, because Jungkook has always been his favorite and he’s never attempted to hide it. The hoodie you’re wearing now could, theoretically, be that exact gift. It’s definitely soft enough to be made from something expensive.

“Oh,” you reply, changing gears entirely. “Well, you know how it is. Sometimes laundry gets mixed up. I’m sure you and Taehyung have worn each other’s clothes by accident, too.”

Jimin doesn’t buy it, you can tell, but he thankfully drops the issue. Watches you and Jungkook like a hawk for the rest of the night, just waiting to capitalize on any other slip-ups, but you purposely fall into a conversation with Yoongi that’s too boring for any normal human to follow along with, and Jungkook calls dibs on Mario Kart until someone can beat him, so there are no slip-ups to catch.

However, if the one constant of your friend group is that Jungkook is Jimin’s favorite regardless of Taehyung’s pouting, the second is that Jung Hoseok cannot hold his liquor.

He’s four mixed drinks deep, skin flushed and eyes half-lidded with sleep, when he stands on top of Taehyung and Jimin’s coffee table and shouts, for everyone to hear, “Hey, did you guys know Jungkookie started wearing women’s underwear?”

For once, this comes as a complete shock to you, too.

The thing about being in love, Jungkook finds, is that it’s nearly impossible to shut up about it.

He’s trying to be cool. He’s trying to be normal. He feigns delight and care when his coworkers talk about their partners, pretends he’s paying attention and not just waiting for his turn to talk about you. He prints pictures of the two of you off his phone and frames them and displays them at his desk, and all someone has to say is, “That’s a cute picture, Jungkook-ssi—” before all his affection for you erupts out of him like a volcano.

So far he’s been careful. His coworkers are sick of hearing about you, but they’re an outlet for everyone he can’t talk about you with. Like his friends, because he’d decided early on it was better to keep everything a secret for a little bit because he didn’t want things to be weird (and because he’s low-key terrified of Namjoon, because he’s gentle and clumsy but he’s still big) and now he’s regretting it but it feels like it’s gone on too long and he’s in too deep.

Really, it’s no surprise he slips up. Has probably been overdue for one like this for a while.

They’re at the arcade. Taehyung has sunk the last of his disposable income for the week into a claw machine stocked with LINE characters. Wants to win a Sally plushie for Jimin because he says they look alike. It’s cute, the bond they have, platonic soulmates the way you and Namjoon are, and Jungkook is starry-eyed and love-drunk when he heaves a wistful sigh and thinks out loud, “I should win something for her, too.”

The words catch Taehyung so off-guard his hand slips and presses the button to lower the claw. “Press it again,” Jungkook says. “If you double-press the button, it makes the claw stronger. You’ll get it.”

Taehyung is wary, still dazed from Jungkook’s slip-up, but he presses the button again anyway. The claw tightens around Sally’s head and drags her up and out of the pile, drops her into the chute and to Taehyung’s waiting hand. “Oh shit! Jungkookie, you’re a genius. Jimin’s gonna love this.”

“Yeah, sure. Didn’t know you didn’t know that trick or I would’ve told you sooner.”

His hyung nods absentmindedly, distracted with the selfie he’s sending to Jimin with Sally obscuring half his face. “Are you gonna try now?”

Jungkook swallows. “Huh?”

“You said you were gonna win something for someone.”

“No I didn’t,” he lies.

Taehyung’s face drops. Gets all serious when he shoves his phone in his back pocket. “Yes you did. Right before I won this,” he says, large hands wrapped around Sally’s poor neck, clearly strangling her. “You said I should win something for her, too. Who’s ‘her’? Are you seeing someone?”

“I said him, hyung,” he lies again. Is thankful for the garish arcade lights and the way they hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I meant Jimin-hyung.”

“You did not,” Taehyung insists. “You said her, and now you’re trying to gaslight me—”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Feigns exasperation. Swipes his game card and stares his hyung right in the eye as he drops the claw and double-taps, somehow picking up two plushies. Tosses Brown to Taehyung and says, “Tell Jimin his favorite dongsaeng won him that one.”

Tucks Cony safely in his pocket to give to you later, thankful the universe came through for him for once.

You (10:42pm): babe

You (10:42pm): what time do you think you’ll be home?

You (10:43pm): 🍆🍆🍆

Yoongi (11:06pm): What the fuck

You (11:08pm): oh fuck

You (11:08pm): that was NOT meant for you

Yoongi (11:14pm): Fucking obviously

Yoongi (11:14pm): Please do not ever accidentally sext me again

You (11:15pm): gross yoongi

You (11:15pm): that wasn’t a sext

You (11:15pm): i need it for the bokkeum i’m making

Yoongi (11:17pm): At midnight? Fuck off

Yoongi (11:17pm): Trade proposal

Yoongi (11:17pm): You never accidentally sext me again and I won’t tell the rest of our friends you’re secretly dating your roommate

You (11:29pm): it’s not even midnight 🙄

You (11:29pm): but that sounds good to me, thanks!

Hoseok had taught Jungkook how to cook, but not how to bake.

They’d attempted it, once, not long after Jungkook moved to Seoul and was homesick and missing his mom’s yaksik something terrible. Just wanted something that tasted like home, something comforting, and Hoseok had felt so bad for him that he said fuck it, let’s try, what’s the worst that could happen, and the two of them learned very quickly that nearly burning down their kitchen and the rest of their building was, in fact, the worst thing that could happen.

They never tried baking a damn thing after that, individually or together.

Still, there’s a special occasion coming up, so Jungkook asks the only person he trusts to help him.

“You need a cake,” Seokjin intones, swallowing his smile when Jungkook nods and his mop of curls bobbles along. Takes out a notepad to jot down ideas. “What’s the occasion?”

“Um. Just an… occasion.”

Seokjin blinks owlishly. “You just need a cake for an occasion? Do you wanna try again and actually be helpful this time?”

“What does it matter if I’m paying you, hyung?” Jungkook whines. “Aren’t cakes all the same?”

“Not if you want me to decorate it—”

“I don’t.”

“—because what am I supposed to write on it? Happy occasion, person whose name Jungkookie won’t tell me! Do you see how that might not work out for either of us?”

“Again, what does it matter—”

Seokjin looks up from his notepad, brows furrowed. “Are you ordering this for the president? What’s with all the secrecy?”

Jungkook huffs, puts on his Very Serious Face. “I can just take my business elsewhere if you’re going to interrogate me, hyung,” he says, to which Seokjin rolls his eyes, used to Jungkook’s dramatics.

“Be my guest,” he calls his bluff, gesturing to the front door of the bakery. “No one else is going to give you as good a discount as me, though.”

“I bet Junghwan-ssi would,” Jungkook grumbles, low but loud enough for Seokjin to hear, because there isn’t much else Jungkook can say that’d get under his hyung’s skin as much as the mention of his arch nemesis. “I bet I could walk into his bakery right now and explain the whole situation to him and he’d practically give it to me for free, just so it meant you didn’t get my business.”

And it works. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, chest starts heaving. “You wouldn’t,” he accuses, and Jungkook just shrugs, nonplussed, daring Seokjin to find out.

What follows can only be described as a tense standoff: Seokjin behind the counter of his bakery, looking hilariously underdressed for this stalemate in his pink apron, armed only with a pen; Jungkook, looking smug and pleased on the other side, not even knowing what Junghwan’s bakery is called, let alone where it is. The bell above the door chimes and neither breaks eye contact to look, and it’d probably go on like this forever, knowing the two of them, except the person behind Jungkook clears their throat, asks, “Excuse me, are you in line…?” and Seokjin is forced to concede if he wants to stay in business.

The person orders a cake for their daughter’s birthday. Answers each of Seokjin’s questions with certainty and preparedness, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the looks Seokjin shoots at him. See how easy it is to answer simple questions? they say. Why can’t you be like this?

Jungkook can’t be like that because the cake is for your birthday. Which Seokjin knows, because he has all of his friends’ birthdays saved to his phone calendar, but he’s never gone out of his way to get you a cake before so Seokjin will absolutely know something’s up. And as he waits for the person to be done ordering, his heart aches a little, because he wants to tell Seokjin to make you the nicest cake he can. Wants him to pull out all the stops, because it’s your birthday and you deserve it, and he could say all those things if he hadn’t insisted on this stupid secrecy.

Guilt consumes him so entirely he doesn’t notice the person leaving. Doesn’t hear the chime of the bell above the door. Is halfway to spilling the entire story to Seokjin, gets as far as hyung, there’s something I— before Seokjin holds up a hand to stop him.

“What kind of cake would you like, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook deflates. Takes all those transgressions he was about to confess to and shoves them back inside his chest, locks them away. “Whatever you think is best, hyung. Just no nuts.”

And Seokjin smirks knowingly, because there’s only one person he knows with a nut allergy.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Shades of Grey || CL16 {3}

Summary: Things get worse before they get better. Warnings: 18+ only, hurt/comfort. Word Count: 2k

F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four ||

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave without a goodbye,” Charles whispered to the quiet as he took your hand and kissed the top of it. “I didn’t mean to leave you.”

You looked down at your hand though you still stood near the door and swore you could feel his palm in yours just like when you held his hand under the stars. You ran your thumb over the empty space where he had a callus from repeated weight lifting in the gym and he jumped in his seat.

“Did you…” He shook his head and sighed before chiding himself. “Arthur thinks you might be able to hear me, and I think he’s crazy but I don’t know, I guess I just need to get this off my chest.”

You stepped closer as his voice dropped even quieter. “I can’t go another minute without telling you how I feel. I wish I told you how I felt before you-“ his words were lost to a sob.

“I’m not dead, Charles,” you said quietly as you stood at the foot of the bed. “I promise I’m going to find a way back to you.”

“Come back to me, please,” Charles begged as he dropped his head to the scratchy hospital sheet that was draped over you. “I can’t bury another person I love. I can’t do it. And I love you, so fucking much and it kills me that I never told you.”

The heart rate monitor beeped rapidly and Charles’ head shot up as an alarm started to blare. The door behind him was pushed open and the nurse entered with Arthur and Pierre hot on her tail. 

“What is it?” Charles asked on the edge of hysteria. “What’s happening?”

The nurse ignored him as she looked at the monitor and saw the sharp increase in your heart rate. “Something stimulated her, what were you doing just before it jumped?”

Charles looked at the other guys before scratching his neck nervously. “I was just talking to her.”

Pierre cocked an eyebrow at the explanation, knowing how his best friend acted when he was not being completely honest. 

“I think it’s safe to say she can probably hear you,” the nurse said with a small smile. “This is good. It’s a very good sign.”

She left with a print out of the readings, quietly excusing herself to update the doctor and when the door sealed shut Pierre turned on Charles. “Right, tell me the truth.”

“What?” Charles asked as he looked away from the pointed stare and back to your face, your eyes still closed.

“Did you kiss her?”

“What!” Charles snapped his head around. “I’m not a fucking creep. What kind of question is that? I just told her…that I love her.”

The monitor spiked again and Arthur shifted closer. “Say it again.”

You leaned closer too, wanting to hear those words on his lips over and over. Charles’ cheeks were burning red and buried his face in the mattress beside your hand. 

“Or kiss her,” Pierre offered before shrugging innocently as Charles lifted his head enough to glare at him. “Worked for sleeping beauty.”

You paced around the room wondering how you could get yourself to wake up when your attention was drawn back to Charles’ quiet words.

“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Is he serious?” Pierre aimed at Arthur who just shrugged. “Bro, she’s been following you ‘round the paddock since we were kids. She wouldn’t give the rest of us the time of day.”

 Charles looked to his brother for confirmation and Arthur nodded. Charles’ shoulders dropped in defeat and he reached out slowly to you, gently brushing his knuckles down your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the ghost of his touch on your skin and you sighed with longing. The tenderness was everything you had wanted to experience, but not like this.

“Woah,” Arthur gasped as a low sound escaped the tube in your mouth. “Nurse!”

The heavy sigh had been heard by them all and you would have been embarrassed by the sound except Charles' eyes lit up with hope. 

“Where the hell is the nurse?” Arthur frowned as he looked to the door. “I’ll go find her.”

“I’ll go with you,” Pierre said as he started to follow, “you get lost more than Charles.”

The sun was starting to reach for the horizon and cast a myriad of colour around the room, the shadows growing with each passing second. Charles was staring at you completely absorbed as he searched for any other sign that you were there.

“I’m trying,” you whispered as you concentrated on making anything happen. “I’m trying.”

“I know it’s your birthday and you’d normally make a wish, but if you could make mine come true I would spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I would give anything to talk to you again.” 

He suddenly shifted in his seat to pull his phone from his pocket and he dialled your number from memory. A muffled vibrating started on the drawers beside the bed and he frowned as shifted from flowers aside to find your phone plugged into a charger. A surprised laugh erupted as he saw what you had him saved as in contacts and he shook his head. 

Chuck The Clerk.

It had been a running joke between the two of you after some reporter had called him Chuck and a fresh tear ran down his cheek as the call went to voicemail. 

“Hey, sorry I missed your call but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Charles cleared his throat before the beep began and he inhaled deeply. “It’s me. Uh, Chuck.” His laugh was a broken sob and he pressed a hand to his trembling lip as he fought to regain his composure. “I just called to hear your voice. God, I miss it. I miss you.”

His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his phone when the answer phone beeped as it ran out of time. A second later your phone beeped with a new voicemail and he picked the device up, the screen lighting up to reveal the background image. 

The photo had been taken at the pre-season testing where the new drivers and old met properly for the first time. Charles turned the phone on its side to see the picture of all 20 drivers lined up and bit his lip as he saw that everyone was facing the photographer, everyone except you and him. You had turned to find him already staring at you and your smile had widened.

“You did it,” Charles had called out just before the camera clicked, capturing the pride on his face. 

There were thousands of other photos in your gallery, dozens and dozens of them with Charles in them, but that was a favourite and it had been your wallpaper since that first week in Bahrain. There might have been 18 other people in the photo but you only saw Charles.

The screen went black as it turned off and when he clicked the lock button to wake it up it asked for a passcode. His fingers keyed in your birthday but it vibrated at the incorrect pin.

“Wrong birthday,” you murmured as you reached out to brush down a wayward strand of hair before remembering you couldn’t touch him.

His fingers hesitantly tried another sequence - 1 6 1 0 9 7 - and he fell back in his seat as it unlocked. He stared at the home screen and chewed on his lip, his knee bouncing with indecision before he locked it again and shoved it back between the flower arrangement.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised softly and placed his hands back on yours to keep them busy and to stop himself from reaching for your phone again. It wasn’t his place to go through the pictures, no matter how much he wanted to see more of your smiles. The pictures in his phone would have to be enough, and the knowledge that you had set his birthday as your passcode. 

He stared out of the hospital window as the sun went down and sighed. “I should go.”

Panic hit you at the thought of being left behind in the dark void again and you threw yourself at him, reaching for his hand before it could leave yours. You tumbled forward as you fell through him and right onto your lifeless body in front of him.

His skin was warm to the touch as your fingers wrapped around his wrist and he froze as he stared at the hand that had been limp only a moment ago. 

“Don’t go,” you begged as your heart hammered in your chest and the monitors set off another alarm. 

“Help! Somebody help,” Charles screamed as your throat convulsed around the tube. 

“Don’t leave me,” you kept trying to plead but the darkness was heavy and it was suddenly harder to speak. 

More voices filled the room and Charles’ hand slipped out of yours. 

“No, no, no, come back,” you screamed, your hand falling from the bed weakly as it tried to find him. 

“Let me go, she needs me,” Charles growled but his voice faded away and your hope went with him.

Pierre gripped his shoulders and kept him pressed to the wall, out of the way of the doctors filling the room. “No, she needs them. Let the doctors do their job.”

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked weakly as he sagged against Pierre. “Why couldn’t you just take me to the airport?”

Pierre held his friend up, taking his weight when he nearly collapsed from the grief. “Because you would hate yourself if you didn’t see her again.”

Charles flinched and screwed his eyes shut as he fisted Pierre’s shirt shaking his head as if it could block out the alarms that erupted as the ventilator was disconnected. As much as it hurt to hear the incessant beeping it was nothing compared to the dread he felt when the room fell silent. 

“No, no…” he whispered as the machine was turned off and his legs failed him. 

“I’m sorry,” Pierre choked, realising there wasn’t going to be another soft whoosh of air breathing for you.

“Charles,” Arthur called as he reached blinding for his brother, slapping his chest until Charles looked up angrily. Arthur wasn’t even looking his way, he was fixated on the doctors, no not the doctors. He was staring at you.

Your throat burned and the fire spread to your lungs as you drew in a shaky breath. Pain lacerated your back and a whimper escaped your dry throat, reigniting the burning as you lifted your hand and tried to ask for water. Your hand dropped weakly back to your side and your vision blurred under the harsh lighting. 

You couldn’t make out any of the shapes moving around you and each blink felt like rubbing sandpaper over your eyes but a familiar warmth filled your hand and you focused on that feeling. The pain in your body receded as the hand clasping yours picked it up and Charles came into focus as his lips pressed to your palm. 

You swallowed in an attempt to wet your throat but you ended up coughing until Charles took the small cup of water a nurse had prepared and he lifted it carefully to your cracked lips. The cool water soothed the burn and you sighed at the instant relief, squeezing Charles’ hand in silent gratitude.

His eyes were brimming with tears when he squeezed your hand back. “You came back.”

You shook your head, wincing at the stiffness in your neck. “For you,” you rasped weakly, not recognising your own voice. 

“For me?” he asked as he leaned in closer like he had misheard you.

“You…brought…me back.” Your lips ached as they curved into a small smile and exhaustion tugged at your mind. You couldn’t go back to sleep, not when you needed him to know how you felt. “I love you too.”

Click here for the final part.

Tagging: @alwaysclassyeagle @abeanontoast @theslytherinwriter @pjofics