#Motivation Workout Images

[duskslushie]

[mddctalk]

MDDC TALK YouTube Podcast Channel

[the-eternalized-constellation]

Note game aka interaction bait for MOTIVATION!!!!!

Entire theme is just exercise and general taking care of ourself.

»»————> No need to interact at all, you are a beautiful soul and we love you. Be yourself, take care of yourself <————««

Every 1 note: a thank you 🩵

10 notes: ONE jumping jack

20 notes: A push up

50 notes: 10 squats

100 notes: Shower

200 notes: Collect some rain/sun water (depending on weather) for our altars ' It finally rained!!!

300 notes: read one of our new books (working on rn)

400 notes: 10 push ups

500 notes: 20 squats

600 notes: 20 push ups

700 notes: unlock all plots on Theme Park Tycoon 2 on roblox in less than 24 hours

800 notes: 30 squats

900 notes: 50 jumping jacks

1000 notes: 50 push ups

1100 notes: use the dumbbells that we rarely use, 10 sets

1200 notes: 50 squats

1300 notes: 20 sets of dumbbell curls

1400 notes: Use the writing prompt book and write at least 10 paragraphs

1500 notes: Use the drawing prompt book and draw at least 10 images

1600 notes: 24 Hours to drink 2000ML / 64 Ozs of water

1700 notes: 100 jumping jacks

1800 notes: 100 dumbbell curls

1900 notes: 100 squats

2000 notes: 100 Push ups

2001 notes: another shower just to get clean after all that workout.

[driverlando]

sending lando ✨️spicy✨️ pictures while he's at the gym training

“Really? Right now?” Lando murmured to himself, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket as he finished a set of bench presses. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and reached for his phone, anticipating a quick glance before diving back into his workout.

The screen lit up with a notification from you, and a knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He opened the message and his breath hitched. The image of you in nothing but lace, sprawled across the bed, greeted him. Your sultry gaze seemed to pierce through the screen, sending a shiver down his spine.

His thumb hovered over the screen, trembling slightly as he took in the sight. He could almost feel the softness of the lace, the heat radiating from your skin. He swallowed hard, feeling a rush of desire pooling low in his abdomen.

“You’re killing me, love,” he muttered, glancing around the gym. The clatter of weights and hum of conversation seemed distant, his focus solely on you. He quickly typed a response, fingers almost fumbling over the keys.

Lando: What are you trying to do to me? 😮‍💨

He hit send and pocketed his phone, trying to shake off the images that danced in his mind. Each movement felt heavier, more labored as if you had stolen every ounce of his concentration. He managed a few more reps before another buzz pulled him back to his phone.

You: Just a little motivation. Are you motivated, baby? 😘

Lando’s jaw clenched, a low growl escaping his lips. Motivation was an understatement. His mind raced with thoughts of you, your body, the promise in your eyes. He could almost hear your teasing laughter, feel the ghost of your touch.

His fingers moved quickly over the screen.

Lando: You have no idea. Can’t wait to get back to you.

He glanced up, catching his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself, but the heat wouldn’t dissipate. Another buzz. He didn’t hesitate this time, opening your message immediately.

You: Why wait? Come home now 🤭

Lando’s resolve shattered. The weights, the gym, the routine—all of it faded into the background. He grabbed his bag, muttering quick goodbyes to his teammates as he made his way to the exit and back home. His heart pounded, each step closer to you a pulse of anticipation and longing.

He fumbled with his keys, finally managing to unlock the door. The house was quiet, but the air was charged with expectation.

Lando’s hands trembled as he pushed open the bedroom door. The sight of you draped in that tantalizing lace, a wicked smile playing on your lips, was almost too much for him to handle.

“Lando,” you purred, stretching languidly on the bed, your body a siren’s call. “I was beginning to think you’d never come.”

“Couldn’t stay away,” he murmured, voice rough with need. His gym bag hit the floor with a dull thud, and in two long strides, he was by your side.

His lips crashed against yours with an urgency that stole your breath. He tasted of salt and heat, a heady mix that made you moan against his mouth. Your hands roamed over his sweat-dampened shirt, feeling the hard muscles beneath, each touch igniting a spark.

“Lace, huh?” he murmured against your lips, his fingers tracing the delicate fabric. “You know what this does to me.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers slipped under the lace, skimming over your heated skin. “I wanted to motivate you,” you whispered, arching into his touch. “Did it work?”

Lando’s chuckle was dark, almost a growl. “You have no idea.”

With a swift movement, he pulled your body flush against his, the hard lines of his form pressing into your softness. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You gasped, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer.

“Lando, please,” you breathed, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. “I need you.”

His eyes darkened, the raw desire in them making your heart race. “I need you too,” he replied, voice thick with longing. He pulled back just enough to strip off his shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and arms, slick with sweat. You reached out, tracing the lines of his abs, reveling in the way his muscles jumped under your touch.

“Patience,” he murmured, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. He made quick work of his gym shorts, letting them fall to the floor. He stood before you, eyes raking over your body, the lace barely concealing the curves he craved.

He moved to the bed, crawling over you with a predatory grace. His hands slid down your sides, hooking under the lace and pulling it off with a slow, deliberate motion that left you trembling with anticipation. The cool air hit your skin, a stark contrast to the heat building between you.

Lando’s mouth followed the path of his hands, kissing and sucking at the newly exposed skin. When his lips closed around a hardened nipple, you cried out, the sensation shooting straight to your core. His hands continued their exploration, fingers dancing over your hips, your thighs, before finally slipping between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. “So ready for me.”

“Yes,” you gasped, hips bucking against his hand. “Please, Lando.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing your folds. “Look at me,” he commanded, and when your eyes met his, he thrust into you, filling you completely. You both moaned, the sensation overwhelming.

He started to move, slow at first, each thrust deep and deliberate. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. His pace quickened, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the room.

“God, you feel so good,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. You could feel the tension building, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

“Lando, I’m gonna—” The words were cut off by a cry as your orgasm crashed over you, your body tightening around him.

Lando followed soon after, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his release. With a final, deep thrust, he came, spilling into you with a groan.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting, hearts racing. After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you against his chest. “Guess I’ll be coming home early more often,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your slightly sweaty forehead.

You smiled, snuggling closer. “I’ll make sure to have more surprises waiting,” you whispered, already planning the next time.

[choccy-milky]

LMAOO thank you for your efforts and also for putting this cursed image in my head....between being a beater AND making the trek up to the ravenclaw tower constantly/every morning to pick up clora, seb never skips a workout💪

@myfangirlinessononeblog BAHAHA DONT WORRY ABOUT IT GIRL!! ill admit tho when i got the preview for your ask which just showed me "id like to apologize for my previous ask" i was like oh god...what did she send me that warrants an apology???😰 but this was so funny to me LOOL esp bc i thought everyone already knew that "spoiler" of sebs "death" by now, so its always fun to see when someone hasnt been on my blog for long/reads my fic first and then gets to it HAHA. also i love the manic energy of not being able to wait between chaps and NEEDING to vent to me LOOL relatable... weve all been there girly🤝🤝 (and im glad u liked seb beating himself up over being dead for TOO long BAHAH that really is so him...😭bro needs to relax) BUT THANK YOU ALSO!! IM GLAD YOU'RE ENJOYING IT!!💖💖💖

@nerdycollectionstrawdewfan i want to do this so bad!! i just still havent got around to getting to that quest yet bc ive still barely started my second HL playthru bahha, and i want to experience the quest myself rather than watch it on youtube, BUT TRUST ME ITS DEFS SOMETHING IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT/WANTING TO DO!! and THANK YOUU💖💖

@jax-the-kneecapper BAHAH AWW TYY RIGHT BACK AT YOU🫂💖💖😭 and i mean if its to keep someone alive i guess i have no choice but to continue🫡👩‍⚕️👩‍⚕️thank u for the excuse🥰

BAHA I DO!! idk if you saw my last ask but i have a pregnancy oneshot in the works!! but unlike what i say there, it probs wont be finished by this month at the rate im going😭 BUT IT IS COMING!! and after that i have a really reallllyyy short oneshot (probs like 5k words. short for ME, that is) thats kinda dark/about yandere seb. but also dont worry about pressuring me cuz IM GLAD YOU WANT MORE OF THEM, IT JUST MOTIVATES ME!! SO THANK YOU💖💖💖🥹

and speaking of motivation!! THANK YOUU im glad you liked it and that you not only got attached to my ver of seb but even to clora as well!!😭ill defs keep writing for them as long as the ideas are still there, thank YOU for reading and for the lovely message!!💖💖💖

decided to end this off with the most UNHINGED ask i have EVER RECIEVED LMAOOOOOO GIRLLLLLLLL???? ok a lot to unpack here first of all im OBSESSEDDDD with the fact that after seeing that sight, ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS YOU THOUGHT OF WAS SEB AND CLORA??? LMFAOO AND SEBS REACTION TO IT😭😭😭IM FUCKING CRYINN GGGG LIKE SERIOUSLY....and second clora will ALWAYS be sebs fav cave no matter what (how dare you make me read that with my own eyes) and also THE VAGINA IS A MUSCLE!! IT CAN LOOSEN AND BECOME TIGHT AGAIN!! ✨THE MORE YOU KNOW!! ✨ but also no seb will NOT be traumatized bc he will NOT be seeing that LMAO😇 in the pregnancy oneshot im writing he doesnt look down there😇 he already almost passes out from seeing clora in pain, so i think looking down there and seeing whats happening would actually knock him out/put him in a coma LMFAOOO (also congrats to your sister🥰🥰i hope her cave isnt too wrecked🥰(ok im sorry 💀💀but also YOU started this🫵)

[noyasmashing]

Can I have more Yan Tamaki hcs? 🫠

Me and my husband were sticking together

• warnings: sub!yan! Tamaki x gn!reader, scent kink, soft yandere behavior, slight stalking, etc.

• authors note: HAII MILLY o(^ . ^)o I’m sorry for being so inactive!! Ive been traveling a lot more than I thought I would and I haven’t had much time to write :(( anyways yes yes here ya go!

Alright I’m just gunna say it. He has a scent kink. Especially the scent of your worn, sweat-drenched workout shorts, he can't help but be drawn to it. Painting an image of you sweaty, tired and yet oh so pretty in his mind. He's become so obsessed with the aroma that he's started to steal your clothes, to the point that you’ve begun to notice something is off.

Despite his shame and guilt over his actions, he's unable to resist the allure of your smell, which has become an intoxicating trigger for him. As a hero, he knows he should be above such base desires, but how can he help himself when he’s never experienced such intense emotions before? It’s not his fault your so attractive!!

Tamaki's arousal is amplified by the prospect of being caught in the act, whether it's pleasuring himself while smelling your clothes or being caught red-handed while stealing them. Despite his deep-seated shame and embarrassment over these desires, he's unable to suppress them, and they often find their way into his dreams.

In fact, the fantasy of being punished for his actions has become a recurring theme in his sleep. He loves the idea of being helpless under your control, with vibrators placed anywhere on him you pleased. His cock, prostate, nipples, he doesn’t care as long as your happy.

His deepest desire is to relinquish control and surrender to your will, allowing him to abandon all responsibility and simply obey without hesitation.

Despite being so pathetic, he has a strong desire to impress you. Being shy, he's not one for grand gestures, but he makes an effort to showcase his small accomplishments in the hopes you'll take notice. If you show more interest in Mirio than him, he'll become sulky and withdrawn. When you're near Mirio, he'll feel anxious and insecure. However, his demeanor changes instantly if you direct even a simple question or comment towards him - it's as if a weight lifts off his shoulders, and he's revitalized by your attention.

Tamaki has a tendency to become dramatically upset in your presence, often feigning hurt or distress in the hopes of gaining sympathy and affection from you. Solely to get a reaction from you, one that he can store away to fuel his late-night fantasies.

Despite his ardent desire to catch your attention, he finds himself tongue-tied and unable to articulate his feelings. When he tries to speak to you, his lower lip begins to tremble and his ears turn a bright red with embarrassment. His words get jumbled and tangled on his tongue, rendering him speechless. As a result, he usually resorts to simply nodding his head or muttering a few faint words.

Tamaki's naturally introverted nature often leads him to adopt a listening role, and he finds himself eavesdropping on your conversations out of a misplaced sense of duty. He rationalizes this behavior as a desire to "protect" and "keep you safe," but it's clear that his true motivation is to uncover more about you.

But that's not all - Tamaki is quite the photographer. He likely has an entire album dedicated to pictures of you on his phone, filled with videos and audio recordings of your laughter, conversations with him, and hell even just you talking to a friend. The poor boy would not be able to contain himself if you made a suggestive joke in his presence. Scurrying off to the nearest bathroom with a raging boner. That’s how bad his fascination with your voice is, and he can't help but replay it in his head, imagining all the intimate things you might say to him. He can get rather sloppy with trying to capture you, oblivious as ever. Let’s just hope you don’t catch him recording you, even with his clumsiness. Tamaki's enthusiasm can sometimes get the better of him, causing him to be reckless in his pursuit of capturing your perfection. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get caught by you, even with his clumsiness.

[growthhyp]

Hello! Just wondering if the garage sale might have maybe a tape measure? Not that there's anything much to measure, except maybe around the midsection (haha) but I was told measuring regularly would be good for tracking progress at the gym.

The Measuring Tape

As you stroll down the quiet suburban street, the vibrant chirps of birds and rustling leaves serve as the morning's soundtrack. You spot the garage sale, a beacon of hope amidst the mundane. Your eyes light up, not for the potential bargains, but for the Adonis-like figure standing guard over the assorted knick-knacks and forgotten treasures. The muscular man's physique is a stark contrast to your own lanky frame, a silent testament to the hours of sweat and toil he must've invested at the gym.

You've been religiously adhering to your New Year's resolution for the past two weeks, pumping iron and pushing your limits, but your body seems to be playing a cruel trick on you, refusing to budge from its familiar skinny confines. The sight of the garage sale is a serendipitous gift, an opportunity to seek guidance from someone who's clearly mastered the art of sculpting their body. As you approach, the muscular man's eyes meet yours, and you feel a sudden wave of self-consciousness, your hand instinctively reaching to cover the slight bulge of your belly.

Without missing a beat, you spill out your frustrations to this stranger, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess of insecurities and hope. The muscular man nods in understanding, his eyes never leaving yours, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. He reaches behind the counter and pulls out a dusty, slightly bent measuring tape. "This might help," he says, his voice a smooth rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's all about tracking your progress. You wouldn't believe how motivating it can be to see those numbers change."

You take the tape from him, your fingertips brushing against his, and you can't help but feel a spark of something electric. He winks, and you blush, feeling both embarrassed and thrilled by his gesture. "Take it," he urges. "It's only a dollar. It's practically a steal." You fish out a crumpled bill from your pocket and exchange it for the tape, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you do so. It's as if he's peering into your very soul, seeing the raw desire to transform into something more.

Once home, you strip down to your red shorts, eager to begin this new ritual. The notebook lies open on the bed, the pencil poised and ready to record every inch of progress. You start with your weight, stepping onto the scale with a deep breath. The needle wobbles before settling at 120 lbs. You scribble it down, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. Then, you move to your height – a solid 5'9", not too shabby. But as you wrap the tape around your chest and arms, you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the initial measurements. 36 inches for your chest, 12 inches for your biceps – it's clear you have a long way to go.

You continue measuring, each number etched into your notebook with a mix of excitement and determination. Your waist is a slim 28 inches, your legs a lean 29. But it's when you get to your neck and calves that the tape seems to tighten around your skin, revealing the beginnings of what might be considered 'gains'. 12 inches around the neck, 13 inches around each calf – not bad for a newbie. And then there's your cock – a modest 4 inches in length and 3 in girth – something you've always been a little self-conscious about, but maybe with the same dedication, you could see some growth there too.

The measuring process becomes almost ritualistic, a sacred pact you make with yourself every week. You document your stats with a fervor usually reserved for a gym enthusiast's workout log, the numbers whispering sweet nothings of potential into your ear. Each day at the gym, you push a little harder, lift a little more, all with the image of the muscular man's nod of approval in your mind's eye.

Six weeks, you've given yourself. Six weeks to carve out the body you've always desired. The first few days are a blur of pain and sweat, your muscles screaming in protest at the unaccustomed exertion. But with each ache and burn, you feel yourself inching closer to your goal.

Week 1 passes, and you eagerly strip down to compare the new you with the old. The scale reads 130 lbs, a solid 10 pounds heavier, and you feel it in your muscles, which seem to have swelled with a newfound life. You stand a proud 5'10", having gained an inch in height, and your body fat percentage has dropped to 12%. The measuring tape confirms your suspicion – your cock has indeed lengthened to 5 inches, and thickened slightly to a girth of 4 inches.

As you flex your biceps, you're thrilled to see they've bulked up to 14 inches around. The veins in your arms are more pronounced now, a sign of the hard work you've been putting in. Your chest has ballooned to 38 inches, filling out your shirts nicely, and your calves have gone from 13 to 14.5 inches. Your legs have filled out too, now a solid 30 inches around. The waist remains at 28 inches, a testament to your discipline in keeping the fat at bay. The neck measurement surprises you the most – a full inch thicker at 13 inches. It's a powerful look that screams 'alpha male'.

Your confidence is soaring, and it's not just in the gym. You've noticed that you're holding yourself differently – shoulders back, chest out, and chin up. You've started to command attention when you enter a room, and it's not just because you're taller. It's like the extra muscle has pumped life into your very essence, turning you into someone who can't be ignored. You catch yourself staring at your reflection in every mirror, admiring the way your newfound muscles ripple and dance in the light.

And the jerking off…it's become something of an obsession. Every night, after a grueling session at the gym, you can't wait to get home and let your hand do the work your exhausted muscles can't. The sensations are more intense than ever before, and you've discovered that you have a knack for edging – bringing yourself to the brink of climax, then pulling back, only to repeat the process over and over again. It's a sweet torment that leaves you gasping and your cock begging for release. Sometimes, when you're feeling particularly wild, you'll sneak into the gym's shower and let yourself go, the hot water cascading over your shoulders as you stroke your now 6-inch length to a powerful orgasm.

Two weeks have passed, and you find yourself back in front of the mirror with the measuring tape. The numbers are in, and they're nothing short of astonishing. You've packed on another 30 pounds, shooting up to 160 lbs. You've grown another inch, now standing tall at 5'11". Your body fat has dropped to a lean 10%, making every muscle pop out in sharp relief. Your chest has blossomed to a massive 40 inches, your biceps are thick slabs of meat at 16 inches around. Your calves have bulged to 15 inches, and your legs are now a sturdy 31 inches of pure power. And your neck? It's a thick, unyielding column of muscle at 14 inches.

But it's the last two measurements that really get your heart racing. Your cock has grown to a proud 6 inches in length and a hefty 5 inches around. The girth is what really gets you – the way it fills your hand, the weight of it hanging between your legs. It's not just the size, though – it's the feeling of power and virility that comes with it. You can't help but stroke it, feeling the newfound sensitivity that seems to come with every workout. It's as if your entire body is waking up to new possibilities, and your libido has gone through the roof.

You've started to feel an insatiable hunger, not just for food, but for attention. You strut around the gym, flexing in the mirrors, watching the other guys steal glances at your bulging biceps and thickened neck. You've even started to catch the eyes of some of the girls who frequent the place, their gazes lingering just a bit longer than before. It's intoxicating, this newfound allure, and you find yourself craving the gym more and more, not just for the gains, but for the way you feel when you're there – powerful, desired, and in control.

Week 3 rolls around, and you're eager to see what the tape has to say. You've been pushing yourself to the limit, your workouts now a blur of pain and pleasure. You're up to 180 lbs, a full 60 pounds heavier than when you started. You've shot up another inch to 6'1", towering over many of the people you used to look up to. Your body fat has plummeted to a mere 8%, leaving every muscle stark and defined. The numbers on your notebook's pages are a testament to your transformation – 42 inches around the chest, 18 inches for your biceps, and a neck that's thickened to a formidable 15 inches.

But it's your legs that really get you going now. They've gone from twigs to tree trunks, each one a monument to your dedication. Your waist is still a respectable 30 inches, but your cock has outdone itself – now a stunning 7 inches in length and a thick 6 in girth. It's a weapon of pleasure that you can't help but admire in the mirror, your hand almost trembling as you wrap the tape around it. The sight of your swollen package sends a bolt of excitement straight to your core, and you realize that you're not just getting more attractive – you're becoming a beast in every sense of the word.

You've started to notice changes in your appetites, too. Your hunger for food is insatiable, your fridge groaning under the weight of protein shakes and chicken breasts. But it's not just food that fuels your desires. Your thoughts are consumed by sex, the need to claim and conquer. It's a primal instinct that's been awakened. You've found someone who appreciates the new you, a gym buddy who's more than happy to help you burn off some steam. You've been hooking up after your workouts, sweat-drenched and pumped full of endorphins, pushing each other's bodies to the limit in a different kind of workout.

Your voice has transformed into a velvety bass that seems to resonate with every word you speak. You command the room when you speak, your words carrying an authority that wasn't there before. It's intoxicating, the way people hang on your every word, eager to catch a glimpse of the new you.

Week 4 has come, and with it, a new set of measurements. You're now a hulking 200 lbs of solid muscle, the kind that makes other guys at the gym look like they're playing dress-up. Your height has stretched to a towering 6'2", and your body fat has dropped to a minuscule 6%. You flex in the mirror, watching your chest balloon to an unbelievable 44 inches, your biceps swelling to a ludicrous 19 inches around. Your waist has filled out to 30, not with flab, but with the kind of muscle that makes your abs look like they've been chiseled from marble. Your legs have become a pair of sculpted pillars, each one a work of art at 33 inches around. And your neck? It's a thick, powerful 16 inches that screams 'don't fuck with me'.

But it's not just your body that's transformed. Your cock has become a thing of legend among those who've seen it – 8 inches of throbbing power, with a girth that could make a pornstar weep. It hangs heavy between your legs, a constant reminder of your newfound masculinity. You've started to enjoy the way people look at you now – the awe, the envy, the lust. It's a drug, and you're addicted. You spend hours at the gym, not just working out, but parading your body for all to see. You've become the poster boy for physical perfection, and everyone wants a piece of you.

Your experiments in the locker room have become more frequent and more daring. You've discovered that with great size comes great opportunity. You've had your pick of the gym's most attractive members, each one eager to feel your newfound girth inside them. The whispers and glances have turned into outright propositions, and you've found that saying 'yes' to every offer has only made you crave more. You've become a sexual god, and the altar is wherever you happen to be at the moment.

The echo of your deep, commanding voice reverberates off the cold tiles, sending a shiver down the spine of anyone within earshot. It's a sound that demands attention, a siren's call that no one can ignore. You've noticed that people listen to you more, your opinions hold more weight, and when you speak, everyone seems to lean in, as if eager to soak up the very essence of your power.

Week 5. The moment of truth has arrived, and with it, the promise of unbridled growth. You stand before the full-length mirror in your gym, the chilly air causing the hairs on your chiseled body to stand on end. You're a monolith of muscle, a testament to your unyielding dedication. The scale groans under your weight, the needle settling at a staggering 300 lbs. You're not just fit; you're a force of nature. The measuring tape stretches and constricts around your Herculean form, each number whispering sweet nothings of triumph into your eager ears.

Your height has shot up to 6'6", making you the giant in every room you enter. Your body fat is a mere 3%, so low that it's practically non-existent. Every inch of you is pure, unadulterated power. Your chest has ballooned to an astounding 50 inches, a monument to your relentless bench pressing. Your biceps are now a ludicrous 22 inches around, bulging like boulders beneath your skin. Your calves are a marvel at 17.5 inches, each flex a silent declaration of your lower body's might. And your waist, a tight 31 inches, is the envy of every man and woman who dares to look your way.

But it's your cock that truly sets you apart. 12 inches long and a staggering 9 inches in girth, it's a beast that could make even the most experienced adult film star quake with trepidation. The mere sight of it has become the stuff of legend among the gym rats and the whispers of the regulars. It's not just the size that's changed; the way it feels is different too. The veins pulse with a newfound vitality, and the head is now a dark, swollen cap that demands attention. The feeling of power it brings is intoxicating, turning every encounter into a conquest waiting to happen.

As you flex in the mirror, the muscles in your neck and jawline ripple, a sign of the testosterone coursing through your body. Your deep laugh fills the room, the sound of it echoing with a newfound authority that sends a shiver down the spine of anyone nearby. You've become the embodiment of lust and desire, and the gym has become your playground. Your eyes scan the room, seeking out the next challenge, the next willing participant in your quest for physical dominance.

The whispers of the other gym-goers reach your ears, a symphony of envy and admiration. You revel in it, knowing that every pair of eyes on you is a silent affirmation of your power. You've started to crave the hunt, the thrill of the chase that comes with being the biggest, baddest wolf in the pack. And oh, the places you've been. The locker room, the sauna, even the benches outside – you've left your mark on every inch of the gym, each encounter more intense than the last.

You've become a legend, the kind of guy that newbies whisper about in awe. The kind of guy who could bend steel bars with his bare hands if he wanted to. The kind of guy who could make anyone – man or woman – beg for mercy. You've learned to wield your new body like a weapon, and the effect it has on people is undeniable. You've had flings with the most popular girls in the gym, leaving them breathless and trembling with every thrust of your massive cock. You've also found that some of the guys have started eyeing you with a mix of admiration and something else – something you're more than willing to explore if they can handle it.

Week 6, and you're eager to see just how much more you can grow. You stand before the mirror, the cold light of day caressing your colossal form. The numbers on your notebook read like a fantasy come to life – 320 lbs of pure, unbridled power. You've shot up to a towering 6'8", making even the basketball players look up to you. Your body fat is a minuscule 2%, so low that it's practically invisible. Your cock has reached a mind-boggling 15 inches in length and a monstrous 11 inches in girth – a beast that could make even the most seasoned pornstar quiver in fear.

You flex your chest in the mirror, watching the muscles swell to an unbelievable 55 inches around. Your biceps are now a ludicrous 25 inches of bulging, veiny steel. Your calves have ballooned to 18.5 inches, each flex a testament to your tireless work ethic. Your waist has remained a tight 32 inches, a stark contrast to your massive thighs, now a staggering 39 inches around each. And your neck – oh, your neck – it's a thick, unyielding 21 inches that could crush a watermelon between your colossal traps. And your feet – a size 17 now – have grown to accommodate your newfound bulk, the very ground seeming to tremble with each thunderous step.

Your cock has become the stuff of myths, a 15-inch monster with a 10-inch girth that would make even the most seasoned porn star quake with fear. It hangs heavily between your legs, a constant reminder of the power you wield. The locker room whispers have turned into full-blown conversations about the legend of your size and stamina. You've become the gym's resident Casanova, the man everyone wants a piece of – and you're more than happy to oblige.

As you strut through the gym, your voice booms with a deep bass that could rival the sound system. It's a sound that commands attention, and everyone seems to hang on your every word. You can't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all, your teeth gleaming in the fluorescent lights as you flex your 28-inch biceps. The veins in your arms pop like a roadmap to pleasure, a stark contrast to the lean, veiny forearms that had once been your only source of pride.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards that muscular man at the garage sale. His simple advice had sparked a transformation so profound it was almost unbelievable. The measuring tape had become a symbol of your growth. Each week, as you measured your progress, you felt a newfound respect for your body and the power it now wielded.

[charliegyrth]

Your Wonderful Boyfriend

An Extreme Weight Gain Story

Hi, everyone! I wanted to add a warning here. This story's a lot darker than my usual stuff.

***

You’re sexy and you know it. After two years of almost-daily workouts, you’ve sculpted yourself into an absolute adonis. People stare as you pass. Guys throw their numbers at you left and right. You’re perfect.

And then you meet me.

I’m not like the other guys who ogle you at the gym. I treat you like a person instead of an object. I actually like your personality.

Sure, I’m a bit skinny for your taste, and I expect you to do everything in bed. I’m not as masculine as your past boyfriends, but I’m kinder. Funnier. With me, you never feel pressured to be perfect. I’m such a wonderful boyfriend.

So you skip your gym routines a bit. You’d rather hang out with me. At times, this feels intentional, like I’m purposely scheduling dinner dates when I know that you were planning to work out.

But oh well. It’s more fun to be with me anyway.

You start spending every night at my place, snuggling together and watching movies. I always have snacks handy, which is great. It’s fun to cheat every once in a while.

But after a month, you realize that your gym time has really diminished, and you’re snacking more than ever before. You start to crave the brownies and muffins that I always keep on hand. You even buy some for your own apartment, something you never would’ve done before.

It takes you two months to notice that your body’s changing. Your abs have smoothed over and your waist has thickened.

This scares you, but you don’t say anything. I haven’t even noticed.

You realize that everything we do in the bedroom is just getting better. I seem more determined now, more forceful. I even top sometimes. Little me taking you from behind. You're surprised how much you like that.

By our third month together, you have to buy new pants. You’re not fat or anything, but your thighs have expanded a bit. I really like this change, and you sort of like it, too. There’s an increased sway to your walk that feels pretty great.

Then your shirts stop fitting. You have a slight belly now. It's been curved for a while, but now it’s noticeable through all your clothes. This is when you realize that you need to head back to the gym.

But when you try your old sets, it’s a lot harder. It used to be fun, but now working out feels like actual work. And you don’t have guys ogling over you anymore. That used to be a big motivation to show off.

You finish your workout early and head home. You promise yourself to try again on Thursday, but you don’t.

You finally have a talk with me. You say you’re getting out of shape.

I assure you that you look amazing. And I ask if you’re happier now.

You are. You can’t deny it.

I convince you to move in with me. It doesn’t take much convincing, though. You’re already spending most nights at my place.

Because I live so much farther from the gym, I convince you to let your membership lapse. You tell yourself that it’s okay. After all, I have some free weights in my apartment.

You use them periodically, but you really don’t have the motivation anymore.

I’ve always been a great cook, but you really start to look forward to my dinners. You crave them now. At work, you feel your mouth watering as you pack up your stuff to leave. Either I’ve changed the ingredients or you’ve just gotten used to my food. You notice I’m making bigger portions now, but you never complain. You love how hard I work in the kitchen to keep you satisfied.

One day, you catch your reflection in the living room window. (The bathroom mirror is only big enough to show your face.) The image shocks you. How could you not have noticed your love handles? And your pecs are definitely drooping now.

You pull out a scale from the closet and finally weigh yourself. You’ve gained 50 pounds without even realizing it.

Panic fills you as you wait for me to come home. When I do, you tell me that you’re fat, as if I hadn’t noticed.

“Of course you are,” I say. “And I love it.”

You don’t like that answer, but as soon as I grab you by your soft waist and lead you into the bedroom, all your panic is gone.

I fuck you again. I’m particularly forceful, and you love every thrust. I grab at your chest, jiggling it. Why does that feel so good?

You realize that our roles in the bedroom have completely changed. You can’t even remember the last time you were on top. I’ve completely taken over.

As I erupt inside you, I whisper in your ear. “Take it, fatty.”

I’ve never called you that before. And you freaking love it.

After that, I’m more open about what I’m doing to you. I even show you the extra butter and cream that I’ve been adding to your half of the meals. Well, more than half, really. I serve you double what I serve myself.

At work, you have an existential crisis. Your boyfriend is making you fat, and I’m really damn good at it. You’re scared, but you keep thinking about how happy you are, and how much you love me, and you convince yourself that everything’s okay.

You outgrow your clothes again, but I’m prepared. I’ve already ordered you bigger shirts and stretchier pants. They’re not as fashionable as what you used to wear, but they feel so much more comfortable.

As you look at your reflection in the window, you notice that your hips have widened dramatically. Your belly droops more, but it’s nothing compared to your lower half. You feel your sides, noticing the edges of cellulite. You don’t like that at all.

You try to find the scale to weigh yourself, but I hid it somewhere.

As we eat dinner together, you tell me that you’ve gone too far. You don’t want to gain any more weight.

I understand. I kiss you and tell you you’re beautiful exactly like this. I even offer to start cooking more reasonable meals for you.

That doesn’t work. The hunger is inside you now, and after three days of small dinners and no snacks, you tell me that you give up. I smile. I've been waiting to hear that.

Months pass, and you’ve become a completely different person. You don’t feel satisfied unless you’re snacking. Your office is filled with boxes of donuts and muffins. Sometimes, I surprise you with a package on your desk.

People are staring at you again, but this time, they look at you with pity instead of lust. Your coworkers all remember what you used to look like, and they feel so sorry for you. On one level, this bothers you. But on another, deeper level, you like the pity. You don’t know why it feels good, but it does.

You waddle when you walk now. You become much slower-moving. And every step you take causes your legs to rub together painfully. You complain to me, and I start applying ointment to your inner thighs. You like that. It turns into foreplay. I cream you up and then I take you into the bedroom.

I feel so much stronger now. You love how easily I can overpower you. At times I’m gentle, but most of the time, I’m really not. I know that’s what you want.

I stop calling you by your name. Just “fatty” now. Or “my pig.” You didn’t like that at first, but now you really do.

After a while, I pull the scale out of its hiding place and ask you to step on. You can’t see past your belly, so I read the number. “377.”

You don’t know how you feel.

“Would you like to keep getting bigger?” I ask.

You want to say no. You want to scream it at me. But as I run my hands down your bare, dimpled thighs, you whisper, “Yes.”

And now years later, here you are, sprawled out on the bed while I sit on your belly. I’m careful not to press too hard. You’re already full of lasagna and spaghetti. I kiss you, then feed you a brownie. I alternate. Kiss then brownie, kiss then brownie.

You fill the whole bed now, your stomach oozing over the sides, your legs spread out to accommodate the roll of fat over your crotch. You’ve buried yourself in fat, and it’s much, much too late to ever go back.

I tell you I love you, and you know that’s true. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have grown you into immobility. I wouldn’t have allowed you to quit your job so you could stay at home and eat.

You touch my face, but it’s pretty hard to raise your arm these days. I ask how you feel, probably because I want to see if I need to clean you again.

“Happy,” you mutter. You don’t really speak in full sentences anymore.

“Me, too,” I say as I slide in another brownie.

“Itchy,” you add. You have a cluster of fresh stretchmarks on your side fat that are really bothering you.

I get your cream. Then I lather up my hands and rub your sides. I know exactly what areas are bothering you.

I’m such a wonderful boyfriend.

The End.

You can find all my stories here. And if you like this one, I'd also recommend You Ruin Your Perfect Body.

[coachs-locker-room]

I've discovered recently that I am severely enthralled by my jock boyfriend's stench. His socks, underwear, shoes, everything. It's just so...alluring. Do you think you could help me embrace this newfound obsession further by making him an even stinkier thick sweaty bear for me to serve at his feet?

A good jockboy should be used to working up a sweat - but for what you need, he will require a little more than some gym motivation. With the right... recalibration, I am sure that your boyfriend's love for his own musk will not only match yours but, it bring the new dynamic to your relationship that you crave.

After taking some of Coach's extra classes - complete with a new diet and protein shake supplement from MASS MONSTA - your jock boyfriend not only discovered his strength and bodymass had increased, but whenever he took a whiff of his sweat-dreanched self he became unable to resist the call of his musk.

Each day, getting more and more potent, the increased pheromones and testosterone kept mixing and coursing through his body. His increased mass and strength only adding to the sweat production.

You might have considered him more of a dominant personality before - at least compared to yourself - but after a week of his new routine, you saw first-hand what a beast he could become when he came back from the gym.

Once he grabbed you by the neck and pushed you into his ripe pit, smelling from the source, your mind would switch off entirely to follow his commands without question.

Within the month, he became not only unrecognisable but truly irresistible. Both to you, to himself, and to anyone who got a hit of his powerful musk. The best part, of course, was that he had no need to shower off before he arrived home. After receiving his pictures, you'd be there, waiting for his return, ready to serve him - however he needed.

The routine became more and more intense - where finishing a workout, stripping out of his sweat-drenched kit and setting up the camera to send a progress picture would cause the whole locker room to stare with desire in their eyes. The alpha confidence was contagious to some and alluring to others, but you were always there on hand to make sure he got what he needed.

Now - go and be a good boy and get on your knees.

You don't want to keep him waiting, do you?

—

If you enjoyed this tf, you can send me a tip on Ko-Fi and for more tf locker room posts and to request your own, follow @coachs-locker-room

Post tf images: jimmyjim811 on X and OnlyFans

[amyrahrose]

Content warning: Sukunaxreader smut, penetration, multiple positions, dominant Sukuna! , unprotected sex, pet names, Sexual theme, Adult theme, talking her through it, <READER IS BLACK FEMALE CODED>

Authur's Note→ 18 and Under, GET TA STEPPIN! I know for sure this will be broken into parts, however I'm not sure how many parts will be to this. I just decided to get back into writing little dabbles here and there so I'm honestly just testing the waters with this. Slightly proofread (English is my first language, but even the baddest of Bitches still make mistakes! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I do hope you guys enjoy! 🤎

Synopsis: You’ve decided that you would begin your fitness journey. Accompanying your best friend, today’s the day where you’ll being taking working out and going to the gym seriously (well kind of). Lacking motivation and ready to go back home to lounge around to watch some TV and pig out, that all changes when suddenly you meet this drop dead gorgeous as hell man. Will he be the inspiration you need to continue your new lifestyle?

w.c» 2.1 K

“Sis, I love you I do, but the gym life isn’t meant for someone like me.” You panted out.

You weren’t sure why the sudden urge to accompany your best friend to the gym came about. Maybe it was because you were tired of always feeling burned out, sluggish and lazy. Possibly because you seen how fit, and fucking sexy, your best friend was getting after starting her fitness journey a while back. Whatever the reason, it went out the window the moment you set foot inside the gym complex with her and tried, very pathetically, to keep up with the routine she’d developed for herself. 

“Fuck this,” you thought, “I’d rather be home eating ice cream while watching Flavor of Love.” 

“See, that’s your problem right there. Rather be watching old TV shows and being lazy then getting your sexy on.” She fired back at you making you realize the last thought was actually out loud. You rolled your eyes playfully before glancing back over to her. 

 Both you and your best friend were on the treadmill walking at an incline with the speed up more that you would have liked. She was barely breaking a sweat, having gotten comfortable on the machine while jamming out to her workout playlist. She had on a two-piece workout set, showing off her toned stomach and big ass. You glanced around the gym, catching a few of the men every now and then peeking over at her, trying to get her attention. 

You on the other hand, you were barely making it. Panting like a dog in heat, your workout set you borrowed from her was sweated out, and your puff was starting to frizz out from all the sweating going on in your head. You could only imaged how you may have looked to everyone else inside the gym.

“C’mon Jade, I applaud you for your fitness journey but obviously I’m not ready, I should have at least started off slow so I could get used to it.” You whined out. She snorted out a laugh while throwing you a look. 

“Oh no ma’am, I tried to do that for you, but you were the one that said you could keep up.” She said as a matter of fact. All you could do was huff in annoyance at her response, because she was right. You figured anything she could do you would’ve been able to. You assumed it wouldn’t have been that bad, but you quickly seen the lie in that. 

“Whatever.” You mumbled as she smiled triumphantly, knowing she won the argument. 

“I’m not even tripping,” You began, “I’m about to get my unfit ass off this treadmill and head home, take a shower and be lazy.” You said determined. 

“Seriously Y/n? We’ve barely been here for forty-five minutes.” She looked at you with a judgemental look. You promised, no matter how much you might’ve complained, to see it through and finish the workout. But fuck that, Flavor of Love and a tube of ice cream was calling your ass. 

“Nah sis, I tap out. And there’s nothing or no one that’s gonna make me change my mi-”

“Uh excuse me miss?” 

You heard a deep, baritone voice sound off behind you. Startled, you whipped your head around to tell off the person for interrupting your monologue only to be stopped dead in your tracks with the sight before you. 

There stood a man, looking like the epitome of a gym God. You were met with a chiseled face, a smirk etched across his features. Sharp, bold crimson red eyes that stared down at you with a glint of amusement and playfulness. He graced you with his shirt off showing his toned washboard abs, littered with tattoos and sweat cascading down his torso, all the way down to his deep V-line. Gray gym shorts that hung dangerous low off his hips, not missing the way he was flexing his sculptured legs. Along with huge forearms that were decorated with dark line tattoos as well. 

In the mist of eye fucking the man, you briefly forgot you were on a moving treadmill, almost busting your ass in front of him and the whole gym. Before making a fool of yourself, he caught you just as you were about to fall off. Wrapping his huge forearms around your waist, securing you in place.

“Woah, you alright ma?” He asked. You looked up to his face, seeing his eyebrows furrow in concern. You also caught the sweat dripping, oh so deliciously off the tip of his nose, resisting the sudden urge to reach up and poke the tip of your tongue out to catch it. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” You thought to yourself.

You gulped as you stared into deep into his crimson eyes, becoming entranced by them. He shook you lightly to capture your attention again.

 “Hey, you sure you good?” He asked again. He wrapped his arms around you tighter while staring back into your eyes waiting on a response. 

“Y/n, girl say something.” Your best friend broke the silence. You gasped and looked down, becoming embarrassed by your actions.

“Oh yea, I’m good, thank you for catching me.” You answered timidly. 

Being plushed against his chest, you melted like puddy feeling the vibrations coming off from his deep chuckle at your response. 

“Good, wouldn’t want a pretty lil’ thing like you hurting herself.” He answered with a smirk. 

You looked up at him shocked, making his smirk deepen. 

“Maybe being at the gym wasn’t so bad.” You thought. 

“I hate to break up this lil’ love session, but we were in the middle of working out. While at least I was, my friend here was getting ready to lea-” Jade started before you cut her off abruptly. 

“Oh uh yea, I actually was about to get off the treadmill and head over to start on the stair master.” You found yourself saying, trying to give off the impression you come to the gym all the time. Without having to look back at your best friend you know she was giving you a “Bitch, are you serious” look into the back of your head, so much so it made your scalp start itching.

The man, still with his arms around you, let out a deep laugh this time. 

“Is that so ma? ‘Cause from the looks of it, you seem like you was struggling on this treadmill.” He said with a hint of playfulness in his voice. His response caught you off-guard while it made Jade throw her head back, cackling. Caught red handed, you chuckled lightly. 

“Was it that obvious?” You asked, not realizing you placed your hands on-top of his forearms while standing comfortably in his embrace, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He smiled down at your while unconsciously giving you a light squeeze. 

“Yea that and your panting, I could hear you over the speakers ma.” He joked causing your to groan in embarrassment. Despite the awkwardness of him catching you in a lie, you both stay in your current position, neither of you moving. Only deepening the stare you both were committed in. Your best friend looked between you and the mysterious man. Dispelling whatever magnetic charm you both had each other captivated in, Jade cleared her through signaling both of you to gaze in her direction. 

“Not trying to be rude or anything, but what exactly was your reasoning for coming over?” Jade got straight to the point. Even though she knew the answer to it. Despite your own thoughts over your appearance, you were drop dead gorgeous. From you bra-length natural hair, medium brown complexion, big doe eyes, plush lips and a curvaceous body, Stevie Wonder could even see how fine you were. You just had to get out of your head about your looks. But Jade knew that was easier said that done, otherwise you wouldn’t have forced yourself to accompany her to the gym. However seeing how transfixed you’ve become around this guy, she was more than glad that you did tag along. 

“Oh uh right, well I seen how hard of a time she was having with the treadmill, I just wanted to come over and suggest a few pointers.” The man stated. He wasn’t lying, that was part of his reason for coming over. The other part was to introduce himself to you. He noticed you the moment you and your best friend walked inside the gym and was immediately hooked. He knew without a doubt he wasn’t leaving this gym until he at least got your name, and hopefully your number. 

“Oh how sweet of you.” Jade said playfully when an idea popped inside of her mind. She threw a cheshire cat smile at the both of you before continuing her statement. 

“Seeing that you want to make sure Y/n is doing the workouts correctly, why don’t you guys start coming to the gym together.” She said with a glint in her eyes.

“If motivation is what you want”, Jade thought to herself, he’s definitely all the motivation you need Y/n.” 

You whipped your head around almost giving yourself whiplash, looking at your best friend as if she just lost her mind. From the looks of the guy, he took his workouts serious. You barely kept up with Jade, why in the hell did she think you would be able to keep up with him?

You were getting ready to shoot down the idea when he began talking. 

“I don’t mind ma, that’s if you’re up to it?” He asked hopeful. He was silently thanking your best friend for being his voluntary wingman in assisting a chance for him to see you again. You turned back to face him, meeting his hopeful stare and small smile, giving you all the push you needed to slowly nod your head yes at the proposal. His smile deepened as he squeezed you once more. Realizing you were still in his arms, his actions caused you to gasp slightly, making Jade chuckle at the interaction. 

“Cool, I work out pretty much everyday around eight at night, so whatever day works best for you ma, I’m available.” He stated as he looked down into your light brown, doe eyes. He couldn’t help but image how they would be closed slightly, hooded with lust as he pinned you under him while he thrusted deep ins-

“Sure, uhm how about this Wednesday night? That’ll work best.” You cut off his thoughts with your proposal. Coughing as he blushed from his vivid thoughts, he nodded in acknowledgement. Hell, you could’ve said to meet up on Mars at the eleventh hour to workout, he would’ve made damn sure to make it work just to be around you again. 

Sliding his arms from around your waist, you tried to hide the disappointed sigh that escaped from your lips, causing him to smirk lightly. 

“Alright ma, that’s a bet. Give me your number and I’ll text you later to make sure you don’t flake on me.” He joked. You rolled your eyes playfully and smacked your teeth, causing him to shoot his eyebrows up in amusement. 

“Oh she has a ‘lil attitude problem, I’m gonna have to set that straight.” He thought to himself. 

“Boy whatever.” You said as you tried hiding your smile. You reached out your hand, signaling for him to hand over his phone. You typed in your cell number and text yourself so you could go in later and put him into your contact list. Handing him back his phone, he let his hand intertwine with yours longer than it needed to be, sparking an electric jolt to course from your fingertips all the way over your body. 

“Cool, I’ll see you Wednesday ma.” He said with a small smile before turning away to walk back to the area he was working out at. You gave a small nod, about to turn back to Jade before realizing you never caught his name. In a hurry you called out to him to grab his attention. 

“Hey wait, I never got your name?” You said with a small pout. The action making his dick stir a little in his gray shorts. 

He looked you up and down before catching your gaze again with a smirk to his lips. 

“Sukuna.” He said with wink and turned to leave. 

You stayed hypnotized in the same spot he left you, watching his figure walk away before you heard your best friend behind you. 

“See you got your own Flavor of Love right here, didn’t even have to go home for it.” 

© 2024 Amyrahrose. Please do not translate, copy, plagiarize, or repost (sharing links is fine 🤎) without my permission. You will only find my entries/content on tumblr!

[hwastarxo]

Mingi comfort to chubby reader with eating issues

mingi x GN reader

TW : mentions of disordered eating, body image issues, and su1cidal thoughts.

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°

You got in a rut, the feeling of your body started to cause pain, a simple mirror could cause anguish. You got in your head after some diet culture videos came on your feed and you heard some comments on your body and the thoughts started to spiral, the feeling of not being good enough, beautiful enough, worthy of love started to deepen, that paired with your negative thoughts on your body spiraled into horrible habits.

You started to isolate yourself, ignoring the missed calls and unread texts from your boyfriend Mingi. You were focused on all the wrong things, reading all the labels intensely, logging it all down, doing workouts that gave you exhaustion.

The worse part is you thought no one cared, some of your family knew of these habits you had and didn’t worry at all, they even encouraged it, that made the thoughts you had on your body get even worse, believing no one would care until you reach your goal.

Until months pass of you living like this, drain you inside and out, you haven’t spoken to mingi at all, haven’t went out, you were expressionless only consumed on your looks and what you’re not allowed to eat.

This pain poured out every day, leaving you searching unthinkable things, looking for ways to escape living, you didn’t really want to die but living like this couldn’t go on anymore. It isn’t until you collect the pills and mark the date that you hear a knock on your door, “Y/N, are you home? please let me talk to you”.

You panic as you heard Mingis voice come through the closed door, hesitantly you walk up and turn the door knob.

Mingi looks aghast as he sees your face, the pain in it is clearly evident, “You haven’t responded to my messages in ages, are you okay?”.

He panics clearly worried about you, “I.. I’m okay” The lie being extremely evident, Mingi quickly pulls you into a hug, tighter than he ever before, as if to keep you from going anywhere. “Please tell me what’s going on, i wanna help you, I’m not mad”. He pleads with you, the desperation clear on his face.

You have a long talk with Mingi about everything that’s been going on, his face gets more and more worried as he listens intensely. He continues to hug you, now rubbing your back to offer support, “You need to get help, from a professional”.

He concerns, he notices the hesitant gaze in your eyes, he’s aware of your self doubt and lack of thinking you deserve help, he reassures you while now patting your back.

“I- Im not underweight, so.. It’s fine, help is for people who deserve it”. Your insecurities come through with ever word, paining Mingi further, “Your size has nothing to do with how much you deserve, you’re just as sick as someone else and need the help just as much, love”.

Mingi now practically begging you to work on it, reminding you he’ll be there to help you through it.

As he continues to praise you, give you hugs, give gentle reminders your worth is beyond your size.

You finally get the motivation to get the help you need, and Mingi is there to support you throughout the whole journey.

Some days when the thoughts get bad again, Mingi is there to help you through it, “You’re beautiful, my love” he repeats like a mantra, constantly praising you and your body. He gets your favorite foods for you then plays all the movies you like, helping you distract from the urges to go back into it, and always letting you borrow comforting items from him. Blankets and hoodies with his scent, so you always feel loved by him and remember how loved you are.

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°

note : thank you for reading !! i wrote this based on my own experience and i hope it can provide comfort if you struggle with the same yourself. you deserve help at any size and there’s no such thing as “sick enough”. you’re already worthy of happiness and fuck diet culture 🔥🤍

[stellaspectral]

Okok first off all I love your writing omg like fr😭🫶

Second: may I request a tmmt 2012 × nonbinary reader (if you dont do that just do fem reader 😭)

But like Imagine reader being insecure about their body- wanting to work out to feel more comfortable and fit, but too scared to go to a gym, so they ask one day donnie if they could help reader out and then reader starts accompanying the turtles in their training sessions and all that. They actually start to see improvements in their physique and get so happy about it ranting to the turtles about the improvements 😭

A/N: Ah, thank you so much! 🥹

For this, I decided on a non-binary/gender neutral reader. I wasn’t sure how much of a romantic undertone you wanted, so I left things implied and left open for the future. I hope you enjoy it! 💖

The Shape of Belonging (fluff/mild angst)

💚 2012 Turtles/Gender Neutral Reader 💚

CWs: Body image issues including negative self-talk, anxiety, mentions of physical exertion/discomfort (training), and themes of self-acceptance. All characters are aged-up.

You’ve never liked mirrors much.

It’s not that you hate your body exactly, but it feels like there’s a … dissonance. You run your fingers over your arms, your waist, your shoulders. They don’t feel like you. Not quite.

You long to feel capable, to move with a sense of ease, to look in the mirror and not immediately catalogue a list of perceived flaws. You want to feel strong. Despite trying various online workout videos at home, your motivation has always been fleeting. But walking into a gym with fluorescent lights and judgmental stares? Yeah, no thanks.

You’ve been sitting with the discomfort for a while now. It creeps into your thoughts when you’re alone, when you’re scrolling on your phone, when you’re trying to sleep. And finally, after one especially restless night, you swallow your anxiety and head to the lair.

Your friends, the turtles, are always training. Always honing their skills. They move with such power and grace, their bodies honed instruments. Their training is intense, practically a daily ritual for them. And they have a whole dojo. So you go to the only person you trust with the science and the heart to help you figure it out: Donnie.

You find him in his lab, hunched over some contraption, goggles slipping down his nose. You hover near the doorway for a second, fingers twitching at your sides. “Hey, uh, Donnie?” you venture, voice a little shaky.

He looks up from a tangle of wires and circuits before pushing his goggles up. “Oh—hey! What’s up?”

You shift on your feet, hesitating, eyes flicking to the floor. “Um … could I maybe ask you for a favor?”

“Of course,” he replies, turning to give you his full attention. “Everything okay?”

You twist the drawstrings of your hoodie, avoiding his gaze. “It’s something kinda personal. I’ve been thinking about … working out. I’m trying to feel better in my body. But gyms make me anxious.” You look at him, a nervous laugh escaping you, before the words tumble out in a rush. “And I was wondering, since you guys train all the time, if maybe y’all could help me? Or I could join you sometimes? If it’s not too much trouble.”

He blinks, then a slow smile spreads across his face. “Yes, you can train with us. I can help devise a regimen tailored to your current fitness level and goals.” His enthusiasm is a warm wave, washing away some of your immediate fear.

“You mean it?” you ask.

His expression softens in a way that always makes your stomach flutter. “Yeah, of course. You don’t need to go to a gym. We’ve got everything here, and I’d be honored to help you out.” He smiles. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

The relief that hits you is almost overwhelming, and you nod, trying not to tear up.

The next day, you’re in the dojo.

You didn’t expect all four of them to be there, but maybe you should have. Donnie wouldn’t keep something like this from his brothers—not if he thought you’d be joining them. And you’re glad.

They’re all stretching or warming up, and you’re hovering near the edge, unsure. Donnie gestures you over. Leo greets you with a calm nod, his gaze assessing but kind. Raph grunts a quick hello, arms crossed, but his eyes linger on you a little longer than necessary. Mikey bounds over with a grin, beaming so hard it’s impossible not to smile back.

“Just follow my lead,” Donnie says gently. “No pressure. We’ll go slow.”

And so it begins.

Your breathing is ragged five minutes into the warm-up. Even the simplest katas leave your muscles screaming in protest. Your arms shake during planks. You lose balance during basic kicks. You feel clumsy and uncoordinated next to the turtles’ fluid movements. But nobody laughs. Nobody stares.

Donnie is patient, though, constantly adjusting your form, explaining the mechanics of each movement, and offering modifications when something is too difficult. Raph assists with your stance with surprising care, his fingers warm on your shoulders. Leo praises your focus. Mikey makes you laugh between sets, even when you feel like your limbs are going to fall off.

You feel a little out of place, at first. But they make space for you, like you belong there.

And slowly, you start to.

The first few sessions are brutal.

But Donnie walks you through every movement with endless patience. Raph gives you a nod of approval when you push through a tough set. Mikey high-fives you with enthusiasm, like you just won a gold medal and keeps your spirits up with jokes and encouragement. Leo pushes you on discipline and tells you your form is improving every time you come back.

And you do come back. Again and again.

Leo helps you with balance drills. His hands are firm and steady when he corrects your stance, and each brush of his fingers sends a quiet thrill through you. He doesn’t say much, but when you catch his eye, there’s something in his gaze: focused, admiring.

Raph is rougher around the edges. He pushes you a little harder, watches a little closer. But when he sees your arms tremble during push-ups, he’s the one who drops to the mat beside you, doing them in sync. “You ain’t quitting on my watch,” he mutters, but the softness in his tone betrays him.

Mikey cheers you on like you’re an Olympic athlete. Every small win—a longer plank, a more solid kick—he celebrates like it’s the most amazing thing in the world. He brings you water between sets, wipes imaginary sweat off your brow with dramatic flair, and gives you nicknames like Muscle Monarch.

You groan every time, but secretly? You love it. And more than once, his goofy antics make you laugh so hard you forget how tired you are.

Donnie remains your primary guide, meticulously tracking your progress on a datapad he’s designed specifically for your training. At first, it feels embarrassing, the idea of him measuring your effort. But he never makes you feel judged. Instead, he shows you graphs of your increased stamina, your improved strength, the way your resting heart rate has lowered.

Days eventually turn into weeks.

You show up, you sweat, you ache, and sometimes you want to crawl back into bed and never move again. But you don’t. You keep going, fueled by their quiet support and a growing flicker of determination within yourself. Your routine becomes part of their own. You stretch beside them, sweat with them, push yourself a little harder each time.

Donnie builds custom routines for you. Mikey brings you post-workout smoothies he swears have ‘serious chakra-vibes.’ Raph doesn’t say much, but he’s always watching, always ready to jump in if you need help. Leo includes you in the team meditations, sitting close enough that your knees nearly touch.

You’re not imagining the way their attention lingers. You’re not imagining the way your stomach flips, warm and fluttery, when one of them grins at you like you’re the most impressive thing in the room.

Because there are moments, small but electric.

Moments when Donnie catches your eye as you hold a perfect plank, giving you a smile that lingers longer than usual. When Raph presses a water bottle into your hand after a rough set, his fingers brushing yours. When Leo offers to stretch with you, his hands resting at your hips as he adjusts your posture.

And Mikey, who hypes you up with ridiculous compliments before falling uncharacteristically quiet as he watches you flex with pride.

Then it happens.

One morning, you’re pulling on a pair of jeans you haven’t worn in months, bracing for the familiar uncomfortable feeling. Except now, they sit comfortably on you. Not too tight, not digging in. You stare down at yourself, then rush to the mirror in your bathroom—the one you usually avoid.

For once, you don’t feel the urge to look away.

You turn this way and that. Is it your imagination? No. There’s a subtle shift in the line of your shoulders, a new firmness in your arms. You run your hands down your sides, feeling the way your clothes drape differently. A small, tentative smile touches your lips. Later that day, you hoist a heavy box of books you were dreading moving, and it feels manageable. Lighter than you remember.

The real revelation comes during a training session.

Donnie has you doing a circuit he’s designed, and you’re halfway through a set of burpees—an exercise you used to despise with the fire of a thousand suns—when you realize you’re not gasping for air and you’re easily keeping pace. You finish the set, a little breathless, yes. But not utterly defeated. You look down at your hands, flexing your fingers, a grin spreading across your face.

As you towel off, you can no longer hold it in.

“You guys, you will not believe this!” you blurt, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

They all look up, intrigued by your sudden outburst.

Concern flickers over Donnie’s face. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

“No! Nothing like that.” You’re already waving your hands, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. “I saw myself in the mirror and I look different. Like my arms? There’s actual definition. And my posture isn’t slouched and weird anymore! And I think I can finally do those side planks without toppling like a sad noodle!”

Mikey lets out a whoop so loud it echoes through the dojo. “YESSS! That’s what I’m TALKIN’ about!” He practically tackles you in a hug, nearly knocking you off your feet.

You laugh, half out of joy and half because Mikey is squeezing the air out of you. “Mikey—air—lungs—”

“Oh, sorry!” He lets go, only to hold you at arm’s length and give you a full once-over. “Wow, check you out, Superstar!”

You feel your face heat at the nickname; something about the way he says it now makes your heart trip over itself. “It’s not that big a deal,” you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck.

“It is a big deal,” Donnie says, walking over, towel slung around his neck. His eyes are warm, proud. “You’ve been consistent. You’ve worked hard. That’s what matters. Not just the physical change, but the fact that you made it happen.”

You glance down at your shoes, but his words hit something soft inside you. Your chest tightens. Not in a bad way, but in that weird, overwhelming emotional way that makes your throat feel thick.

Raph saunters over next, arms crossed, looking a little more earnest than usual. “You should be proud,” he says. “You earned every bit of it.” Then, with a crooked smirk, he adds, “Knew you had it in you.”

You catch Leo’s gaze just over Raph’s shoulder. He hasn’t said anything yet, just watches you with that quiet, focused intensity of his. The look sends a little zing through your spine.

Finally, he walks over. “You’ve changed,” he says simply, voice low. “Not just your body. Your energy. You move with more confidence. You look like you believe in yourself now.”

You blink. Of all the things he could’ve said, that hits the hardest. You feel seen—not just in the mirror.

But by them.

You huff out a laugh, trying to shake the sudden wave of emotion. “Okay, okay, you’re all gonna make me cry.”

Beside you, Donnie chuckles and gently bumps his knuckles against your arm. “Don’t worry, tears are not known to reverse muscle growth.”

Mikey throws an arm around your shoulder. “We gotta celebrate! Post-workout victory pizza time!”

“Actually,” you say, looking around at them, “I think this is the celebration. Being here with you guys, feeling like … I belong.”

“You do belong,” Leo says, voice steady. “You always have.”

You feel your throat tighten. You don’t have the words for how grateful you are—for the space, the support, the strength they’ve given you. Because for the first time in a long time, you feel at home in your body. Not because it’s perfect. Because it’s yours, and you’re reclaiming it.

And you’re not doing it alone.

They made room for you—and maybe there’s also room for something more too, tucked between sweat and shared smiles. Between glances that linger too long. There’s the possibility that this bond between you and them could grow into something deeper.

But for now?

You grab Mikey’s hand and pull him toward the kitchen, laughing as he cheers. Donnie follows close behind, muttering something about adjusting your macros. Raph nudges your shoulder as he catches up and hurries ahead. And Leo walks beside you, close enough that his arm brushes yours. You see their faces, their expressions open in a way you’ve never seen before.

You’re not just growing into your body. You’re growing into yourself. And they see it. They see you.

And they’re falling for the person you’re becoming, the person you’re meant to be.

[mddctalk]

MDDC TALK YouTube Podcast Channel

Use promo-code MDDCTALK for 20% off Amino Asylum products!

[hunkpossession0]

**Found this personal trainer on Insta, I chatted a lil bit with him, and now I got his body. Poor him.**

It all started with a late-night scroll through Instagram. You know how it goes—one minute you’re just browsing, and the next, you’re sucked into the world of fitness models and personal trainers, each more jacked than the last. That’s when I found *him*.

This guy was perfection in human form. Towering height, muscles that looked like they were chiseled from stone, and a face that screamed confidence. The guy even rocked a thick, perfectly groomed mustache that somehow made him look even more masculine. His profile was full of workout tips, nutrition advice, and those motivational posts that usually make me roll my eyes. But something about him had me hooked.

“Man, if I had that body,” I muttered to myself, almost jokingly. But then the thought took hold. *What if*?

I shot him a DM, asking for some beginner tips—playing the part of the clueless newbie. To my surprise, he replied almost instantly, eager to help. We went back and forth for a bit, him giving advice and me pretending to be interested, while I worked on something far more… *ambitious*.

As we chatted, I tapped into an ability I’d been perfecting—a way to connect with someone on a deeper level. To reach out and *take* what was theirs. He had no idea that while he was busy explaining how to start on squats and deadlifts, I was making a connection that would change everything.

And then, with one final push, I felt it—the shift.

Suddenly, I wasn’t lounging on my bed anymore. I was standing in a gym, holding his phone in his hand, feeling the weight of his massive arms, the strength in his legs. I flexed one arm, watching as the muscles bulged, hard and defined, beneath the skin. My heart pounded with excitement and something else… an overwhelming sense of power.

I took a deep breath, my chest expanding with muscles that weren’t mine just a moment ago. I was in *his* body now, and damn, did it feel good. The thick mustache above my lip twitched as I grinned at my reflection in the mirror, marveling at how it suited this face, this body. I ran a hand over it, feeling the rough bristles that added an extra layer of ruggedness to this perfect form.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, my voice deep and resonant. *His* voice. My voice now.

My phone buzzed in my pocket—*his* pocket, I reminded myself—and I pulled it out to see a flood of missed notifications. But those could wait. The first thing I did was block my old account. Whoever was stuck in my former body wouldn’t be getting any help from me. They’d just have to deal with the shock of being… *me* now.

Meanwhile, across town, I could only imagine the horror and confusion on my former face as the realization hit. That once-comfortable body now felt alien, weak in comparison to what I had now. But I couldn’t waste time worrying about him—this was about me, about *living* in this body, and I intended to enjoy every second of it.

I turned back to the mirror, running my hands over my chest and abs, flexing just to watch the muscles ripple under the skin. God, I looked good. My new body felt hot, practically humming with energy, with a need I’d never felt before. The gym suddenly seemed smaller, like it couldn’t contain everything I was feeling.

An idea popped into my head, and I pulled out his phone again, quickly downloading Grindr. It didn’t take long to set up a profile—one of his shirtless pics as the main image, of course. The matches started rolling in almost immediately, the phone buzzing nonstop.

I couldn’t help but smirk at the screen. I shot a message to a couple of nearby guys, already knowing where this night was headed. The gym could wait—there were other ways to test out this body, and I was eager to explore *all* of them.

Back in that old, weak body, the poor guy was probably still staring at his reflection in disbelief, trying to figure out what had happened. But that was his problem now. I had bigger, better things to do—starting with enjoying every inch of this perfect new body. The thick mustache tickled my upper lip as I grinned wider, anticipation flooding my veins.

This is going to be fun.

[oceane4loveu]

can you make a guide on it girl christmas

Dream girl winter

External glow

hydration

drink plenty of water to avoid dehydration, use products rich in ingredients such as hyalurinic acid, glycerin and ceramides which strengthen your skin's natural moisture barrier. In winter give priority to the product which gives priority hydration and nutrition of the skin. Don't forget to moisturize your lips and protect your skin with a broad-spectrum sunscreen offering at least SPF 30.

shower routine

Your shower routine literally determines how you smell throughout the day. Find a signature scent and find suitable products. I love the products from Sol de Janeiro, Dove and Philosophy. You can also use the ordinary glycolic acid as a deodorant personally I only use it twice a week and I use a deodorant from Dove. Do a body scrub every week to get rid of dead skin. I recommend the one from Tree Hut which is good too. Use a body lotion and also a scented mist.

take care of yourself

take a day to take care of your nails, your hairstyle to do your eyelashes etc. you can also go to a spa to have a massage or something else. really take advantage of this day to have fun, rest and make yourself beautiful.

workout

you don't need to spend hours at the gym, invest 20 to 30 minutes of your day to move your body every day. you can find workout videos on YouTube of 30 min,I also recommend the 5000 step workout.

Makeup

start by applying your moisturizer before putting on makeup, then use a foundation with a dewy finish, put on concealer, brow tint or clear brow gel, mascara, For the blush, opt for a creamy blush Because the creamy finish will give you glow,Don't forget the nourishing lip gloss or lip oil to make lips shiny and vibrant.

Diet

use the 80/20 rule this rule suggests focusing on a healthy and balanced diet 80% of the time and treating yourself the remaining 20% ​​example

Internal glow

inner self care

journals and practices meditation. Take a moment for yourself every day to write down your thoughts, relax and chase away negative thoughts.

7+ hour of sleep

give your body the rest it needs, give yourself at least 7 hours of restful sleep each night to allow your skin to repair and regenerate.

read books

Read books that entertain you, inspire you, and help you become better. you can also listen to podcasts or audiobooks.

social media detox

take a step back, limit your time on social media and focus on what really matters. put your phone on do not disturb mode and try doing an activity like cooking, knitting or something you enjoy.

Romantizing life

winter vision board

use Pinterest to find images that match your aesthetic, winter looks, fun activities, anything that makes you happy. Then create a vision board that you can put as your wallpaper.

Winter bucket list

now make your bucket list. write down all the activities and experiences you want to have during this winter. check off each activity as you accomplish them to feel proud.

create your playlist

create a playlist with songs that make you feel good, happy and that match your aesthetic.

romantizing life technique

enjoy cups of hot chocolate while watching your favorite series or movie, listen to your playlist while you walk, take photos of the landscape or make a mini blog of your days, spend time with your family, cook with your friends or alone, organize cozy evenings, take care of yourself and create good memories.

New year

set yourself goals

Take your time to write down all your goals for the new year. These should be achievable goals that you know you can actually achieve. Visualize yourself achieving all of your goals and working towards them throughout the year.

Life vision board

create a vision board for the new year. use images, quotes and words to represent what you want to accomplish and how you want to feel throughout the year. look at the board every day to stay motivated and focused on your goals.

[navybrat817]

He's wondering when you're gonna stop doing your boring work and do him instead

Of course, he is. 😏

Clocking Out

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky makes it difficult for you to get any work done.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, implied smutty times, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

A/N: Late submission for Week 7 of Hot Bucky Summer for @buckybarnesevents ! Prompt - "Who's this?". ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. But thanks to @rookthorne for the inspiration. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You narrowed your eyes in concentration on your laptop screen, the clicking of your keyboard the only sound in your in-home office. You typically worked with some kind of background noise, whether it be music or even the television at a low volume. It helped the day go by faster. At some point though, Bucky ventured in and shut your playlist off to ask some random question.

"Who's this?" he asked as he shoved his phone in your face and blocked your view of the monitor. "And what is FYP? What the hell does that mean?"

You had to giggle after a moment. Your boyfriend had a habit of interrupting you while you worked to get some form of attention. It happened more times than you could count and you were lucky you got any work done at all when he was home. He told you in passing that after being alone for so long that he wanted to soak up every moment he could with you. 

I can't get mad when he puts it that way. 

"It means 'For You Page' and I have no clue who that is," you answered, gently pushing his hand away so you could get back to typing. "Why are you on TikTok, old man?"

"Why are you?" he asked, taking a seat on the loveseat near your desk. "Is this what you look at to get inspiration for your smut or whatever it is that you call it?"

"Hey!" you said, pushing away from your desk to turn and face him. "I write stories, thank you very much. Some of them just happen to include smut and there is nothing wrong with that."

Bucky had an all too smug expression on his face when he leaned back against the cushion and widened his massive thighs. He took up almost the entire two-seater sofa with his size. The gorgeous bastard finished up his workout earlier and didn't bother getting fully dressed after his shower. Just a new pair of sweatpants and no shirt, his long hair still slightly damp and daring you to run his fingers through it.

Showing off his broad torso like a harlot. 

"Sorry. You're right. You do tell stories and they are wonderful," he said, holding up his hands on surrender. His steel blue eyes had a hint of playfulness as he nodded to your laptop. "You almost done with your 'porn with plot' or should I come back later?"

You rolled your eyes as you spun away from him and pulled yourself back to your desk. "You're impossible. Turn my music back on and go back to watching TikTok videos."

"Or you could take a break and ride me," he suggested so casually your fingers froze on the keyboard. "Give you the motivation you need to finish."

With a defiant lift of your chin, you went back to typing. You did like his idea and it wouldn't be the first time you stopped writing to have Bucky pull an orgasm or two from you. The only reason you got a bigger desk was so he could fit under it. The image of him nearly getting stuck under your old desk brought a smile to your face. 

It also caused a tingling sensation between your legs when you remembered just how deep he stabbed his tongue into your aching pussy. 

"You can't ignore me, doll. Look at you. Already distracted and shifting in your chair," he said, his voice low. He knew exactly how it affected you. "So get over here."

Nope. His thick cock can wait for me to take a ride. 

"Bet you're not even working," he accused. It wasn't true. There were words on the screen. "You're typing just to look busy when we both know you're getting your seat wet through your clothes."

"Don't you have work to do yourself?" you asked incredulously, refusing to look over at him. If you did, you'd go right to him and he'd win. Both of you would win, but that wasn't the point. He cut into your work time when you couldn't cut into his.

It's not like I can show up in the middle of a mission and demand to suck his cock. 

"If by 'work' you mean your delicious cunt, yeah. I have a lot of work to do," he said. The unsubtle man he was, you knew he was about two seconds away from taking himself out and stroking his perfect cock. Anyone who said perfection didn't exist hadn't slept with Bucky Barnes. "I'll do overtime and you can pay me in orgasms."

Your head fell back against your chair with a groan. "Where is your off switch?"

"No off switch around you, doll. Only an on switch. You're lucky I don't knock stuff off the end tables since I'm practically a walking hard-on around you."

The sincerity in his statement had you beaming and laughing all at once. You wondered if something in the serum sent his libido into overdrive or if it was you who brought that side of him out. It did wonders for your self-esteem because no matter how you looked, he gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to grace this planet. 

A small break wouldn't hurt. 

"If I step away for a few minutes," you began as you stared at the ceiling. "You have to transcribe the next few paragraphs for me so I can lay down and recover."

"Deal," he said, leaning over and gripping the chair handle to turn you toward him. "But I'm warning you. If you dirty talk, I'm gonna get hard all over again and we'll be right back where we started."

"It can't be any worse than the time you had me in your lap," you said as you lifted your head. He couldn't stop himself from running his hands along your body or kissing your neck. And that was before he had you warm his cock. "Don't look so smug. You owe me an orgasm."

"Yes, ma'am," he smirked. 

Lucky for you, Bucky always delivered on his promises. 

We can't resist Bucky, can we? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi