#Workout convenience

[tls-001]

Check this sale out !!!

These Walking Pads are great!!

[bill-gates-hate-blog]

verdict on running, now that i've been doing it so much that my brain doesn't even make up excuses to not do it: it's good. couch to 5k programs are an excellent jumping off point and i wish i had discovered they exist sooner

[slyandthefamilybook]

I've started doing a bit of a prisoner's workout and honestly? it feels so much better than going to the gym

[marinereborn]

K-Pop Workout

I was pondering what kind of exercise I could start again given the heatwave and my health issues since the local karate dojo is retarded and only one of the Qi Gong association has answered my mail telling me to come back in September then I randomly found this on YT :

I think this is the best way for me to start exercising again from the safety of my apartment in front of my fan (I wear semi adhesive slippers that are kinda like ballerina shoes so I don't slip and die or make elephant noises lol) and right before taking my shower.

Now I seem to have occasional synchronization issues which make me look stupid sometimes (no one can see me so it's fine), hopefully it'll get better once I get used to it again, but it doesn't change the intensity of the workout and it's really fun to do even if it may be cringe to some people.

So I recommend it to anyone interested. It's very easy and convenient even for someone with many constraints, great concept.

[medickpidia]

Information

The Samsung Galaxy Watch 6 (44mm, Bluetooth) is a powerful and stylish smartwatch designed for fitness tracking, health monitoring, and everyday convenience. With an enhanced big-screen display, personalized heart rate zones, advanced sleep coaching, and comprehensive health insights, this smartwatch helps you stay on top of your wellness goals while keeping you connected on the go.

Features

✅ Big, Bright, and Durable Display:

1.5-inch Super AMOLED display with vibrant colors and improved readability.

Higher resolution for crystal-clear visuals.

Sapphire Crystal glass for enhanced durability and scratch resistance.

✅ Bluetooth Connectivity & Smart Notifications:

Syncs seamlessly with Samsung Galaxy smartphones and other Android devices.

Receive calls, messages, and app notifications directly on your wrist.

Control music, apps, and smart home devices from your watch.

✅ Advanced Fitness & Workout Tracking:

Personalized Heart Rate Zones: Customizes workout intensity based on your fitness level.

Over 90 workout modes, including running, cycling, swimming, and strength training.

Auto-detects workouts and tracks real-time performance metrics.

✅ Comprehensive Health & Wellness Insights:

Heart Rate Monitoring: Measures heart rate, alerts for irregular rhythms.

ECG & Blood Pressure Monitoring (Samsung Health Monitor app required).

BIA (Bioelectrical Impedance Analysis) Sensor: Tracks body fat percentage, muscle mass, and hydration levels.

SpO2 & VO2 Max Monitoring for blood oxygen and cardio fitness tracking.

✅ Advanced Sleep Coaching:

Monitors sleep cycles, snoring patterns, and blood oxygen levels.

Provides personalized insights and tips to improve sleep quality.

Smart wake-up alarms ensure you wake up at the optimal time.

✅ Sleek & Lightweight Design:

44mm aluminum case with a premium Graphite finish.

Comfortable, interchangeable bands for a customizable look.

Water-resistant (IP68 & 5ATM) for swimming and outdoor activities.

✅ Long-Lasting Battery & Fast Charging:

Up to 40 hours of battery life on a single charge.

Fast wireless charging for quick top-ups.

✅ One UI 5 Watch & Wear OS by Google:

Seamless integration with Android devices.

Access to Google apps like Maps, Assistant, and Wallet.

Download third-party fitness and productivity apps from the Play Store.

Ideal 

✔️ Fitness enthusiasts & athletes looking for real-time performance tracking. ✔️ Health-conscious users who want heart rate, sleep, and body composition monitoring. ✔️ Samsung ecosystem users who want seamless integration with their Galaxy devices. ✔️ Busy professionals who need a smartwatch with notifications and smart features.

Specifications

Display: 1.5" Super AMOLED, Always-On

Case Size: 44mm

Material: Aluminum

Color: Graphite

Battery Life: Up to 40 hours

Operating System: Wear OS (One UI 5 Watch)

Sensors: ECG, BIA, HR, SpO2, GPS, Accelerometer, Gyro

Water & Dust Resistance: IP68, 5ATM

Connectivity: Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, NFC

The Samsung Galaxy Watch 6 (44mm, Bluetooth) is a premium smartwatch that combines style, performance, and health tracking in one sleek package. Whether you're focusing on fitness, wellness, or staying connected, this watch delivers a comprehensive experience with cutting-edge features.

[tronform]

Travel Like a Boss with TRONFORM. Introducing the Badass TRONFORM Logo Duffle Bag, designed for those who embrace luxury without limits. Whether you're jet-setting across the globe or heading to the gym, this duffle bag combines bold design with superior functionality—because your lifestyle deserves nothing less.

🔹 Striking Design: Adorned with the iconic TRONFORM logo, this bag makes a statement of power and elegance wherever you go. 🔹 Maximum Space, Maximum Style: With its roomy interior and multiple compartments, it’s the perfect balance of convenience and high fashion. 🔹 Built for the Bold: Made with durable materials to withstand any adventure, this duffle ensures you always carry a piece of luxury with you.

Elevate your travels, workouts, or weekend escapes—TRONFORM has you covered.

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[noisycowboyglitter]

"Merry Fitness and a Happy New Rear: 10 Motivational Quotes to Inspire Your Journey"

Merry Fitness and a Happy New Rear: A Festive Fusion of Fun and Fitness

Buy now:19.95$

Merry Fitness and a Happy New Rear is a playful and humorous twist on the traditional Christmas greeting. It combines the spirit of the holiday season with a touch of fitness motivation, creating a catchy and memorable phrase. This clever slogan appeals to those who enjoy a good laugh while staying committed to their health and wellness goals.

The phrase cleverly incorporates a double meaning, referencing both the traditional "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year" and the desire for fitness enthusiasts to achieve a toned physique. It's a lighthearted and relatable message that resonates with people of all fitness levels.

Buy now

This fun and engaging slogan can be used in various creative ways. It's perfect for fitness-themed merchandise, such as t-shirts, gym bags, and water bottles. It can also be incorporated into social media campaigns, marketing materials, and gym promotions.  

By using "Merry Fitness and a Happy New Rear," you can tap into the festive spirit while promoting a healthy and active lifestyle. It's a unique and attention-grabbing phrase that will surely make people smile and encourage them to prioritize their fitness journey.

Funny Christmas Exercise is a playful term that combines the joy of the holiday season with the often-dreaded task of working out. It refers to lighthearted and humorous physical activities that incorporate Christmas themes and elements. This concept aims to make exercise more enjoyable and engaging, especially during the festive period when indulgence is common.

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From silly Christmas-themed workouts to humorous exercise challenges, funny Christmas exercise can be a fun way to stay active and burn off those extra holiday calories. Whether it's dressing up as Santa for a workout, participating in a gingerbread house building contest with exercise twists, or creating hilarious exercise videos, this trend encourages people to find joy in movement.

By incorporating humor and creativity into fitness routines, funny Christmas exercise helps to reduce boredom and increase motivation. It's a perfect way to spend quality time with friends and family while getting fit together.

Don't panic! Finding the perfect Christmas present doesn't have to be stressful. With a little creativity and planning, you can discover fantastic last-minute gift ideas. From personalized keepsakes to

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indulgent treats, there's something to suit every taste and budget. Explore a range of options, including digital subscriptions, gourmet food baskets, or unique experiences. Remember, it's the thought that counts, so choose a gift that reflects your appreciation and love. With careful consideration, you can still create a magical Christmas for your loved ones.

[ceilidho]

fig. 1. hand in dog mouth | Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader

MASTERLIST · AO3

The first time he smells her from inside the woman's locker room, it brings him to a halt. The human voice in his head grows dimmer and dimmer until it ceases to make a sound.

or: the forced mating omegaverse au

tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Omegaverse, Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping, Heavy Noncon/Dubcon Elements

“Fuckin’ gym isnae giei’ me a free month even though ah have tae drive tae practically the other side o’ the country tae get a decent pump in.��

“Mate, I can’t understand you when you get all worked up,” Gaz sighs on the other end of the phone, probably pinching the bridge of his nose. A lot of their conversations end up that way, one of them quickly losing patience with the other until the call abruptly ends.

Johnny drops his gym bag in the back and slams the car door shut, rounding to the other side to get in on the driver’s side. 

“Ah said, they aren’y refunding me fer the month even though the other location is on the other side o’ town. That’s a half hour back ‘n forth,” he gripes. The call switches to bluetooth a couple seconds after starting the car, Gaz’s exasperated voice coming from the speaker instead of his cell. 

“Don’t you already get a discount?”

“That’s jus’ fer bein’ a vet. This is completely different. It’s gonna be closed fer a month fer renovations. Ah cannae do this fer a whole month.”

“Hey, I know where you live. Aren’t there other gyms around that you could go to instead?”

“Are ye out o’ yer fuckin’ mind, Gaz? Ah’m no’ payin’ ten quid fer a fuckin’ day pass when ah already pay out the nose fer a membership.” 

“No need to get mad at me, mate, I’m just giving you suggestions.” 

“Well, keep them tae yerself if they’re all that bad.”

“Okay, this has been a great chat. I hope you blow a tire on the way there and try calling me for help so I can ignore it.”

The call ends with a loud beep and Johnny barks out a laugh as he reverses out of his spot, looping out of the lot and onto the main road.

He takes the highway because most of the slush and snow has long been cleaned off, though his wipers pump back and forth furiously to keep the snow flurries from sticking to the windshield. That already sets the tone for his evening. He nearly gets in an accident twice on the way there, everyone losing their ability to drive the second the weather is even slightly bad. 

He should just be lucky his gym even has another branch. They could’ve left him high and dry for the month, forced him to go to one the other gyms in his neighborhood that don’t offer the same range of weights and veteran’s discount. 

Worse, he could’ve been left with no choice but to use Gaz’s guest pass to his exorbitantly overpriced luxury gym downtown. Even the thought makes Johnny shudder. It could always be worse.

It’s so much more than just the drive that he hates about the other location. Like the first time he came here months ago when an appointment on the other side of town made him think it would be more convenient to pop in rather than heading back home for his workout, the parking lot is packed when he arrives, and he has to circle the lot twice before a spot frees up. 

The gym is similarly packed when Johnny walks in, and his mood darkens as he scans the weight section for a free bench. None in sight. Just meathead after meathead lining the far wall, huffing and puffing with each rep, dumbbells scattered around. 

Headphones slipped on and music loud enough to make his ears ring, he heads to the treadmills instead. Better to just start his workout like usual and hope for the best. 

The air stinks of sweat and hormones, alpha pheromones wafting through the gym and leaving not a corner untouched. It’s one of the reasons he prefers the location closer to his place—convenience aside, his location is mainly frequented by betas and omegas, the odd alpha not having much of an impact on the overall vibe. 

It’s not that he doesn’t have plenty of alpha friends (Gaz being just one of them), it’s just that sometimes he likes being the biggest, meanest thing in the room. Keeps him in line. Keeps him from being the stupid shit he is ninety-nine percent of the time, as Gaz would say. He likes to be the only one posturing. 

So he doesn’t relish being forced to work out with a million carbon copies of himself. It’s nothing Johnny isn’t used to at least—a decade in the military and a lifetime of contact sport before that had been enough of an education in coexisting with other alphas—but it leaves him on edge, muscles bunching up until his shoulders are nearly up to his ears. 

Running loosens him up. Distracts him from the urge to sink his teeth into something tender and shake until it bleeds. 

A brisk walk to a light jog to a full on sprint. Tongue suctioned to the roof of his mouth, sharpened canines throbbing. The most natural state in the world—legs pumping under him faster and faster, the faint memory of bare feet on a cold forest floor turning over loose soil with every stride. The steady pound of his feet against the ground rumbling through him.

It’s a pale imitation of the real deal, but the taste of salt and rust on the back of his tongue keep him grounded. The beast in his chest rumbles its approval. 

When a bench finally frees up, Johnny has to dash across the gym when he sees another alpha nearby eyeing his spot. He reaches the bench a few seconds before the other man though, slinging his sweat-drenched towel across the seat to claim it as his. The alpha hovers for a tense second, face screwed up in anger and nostrils flared like he might put up a fight for it. 

Do it, Johnny almost growls, teeth itching. Try it and see what happens.

Lucky for both of them that the other alpha knows when to cut his losses. He shoulder checks another alpha as he stomps back to the leg press machine and nearly starts a whole other fight, but that’s none of Johnny’s business. 

He cringes when he finally looks down at the bench only to find someone’s back outlined in sweat. Entitled shitheads at this gym can’t even be bothered to clean up after themselves. 

The noxious miasma of alpha stench would make his eyes water if he weren’t so used to it. Pungent and sharp, like gargling brine. 

A month can’t go by quick enough.

He leaves feeling worse than when he came in. Shoulders tight with tension and irritation crackling through him. Doesn’t even bother throwing a halfhearted see you later to the front desk workers on his way out. The height of rudeness. Not even rude so much as just not him; Johnny likes to talk, he likes to be friendly with the staff. It speaks to the anger riding high in his blood that he can’t even pretend. 

To make it worse, his car is covered in snow when he makes it back, forcing him to spend an extra five minutes cleaning the shit off before he can finally leave. 

It’s untenable. He can mind his ego for a paycheck, but on his own time his patience curls up into a ball in his chest and goes to sleep. It’s not a question of if he’ll lose his temper but when. Inevitable. His pugnacity has always been his downfall; his Achilles’ heel. Always cutting himself down on a sharp tooth.

The rosary beads dangling from the rearview window sway with the car when he takes a tight turn. 

“Ah ken,” Johnny mumbles to himself, silver cross glinting under the stoplight. “Ah can do a month. Ah can keep it together.”

The next couple of times are just as bad. It’s always crowded during his preferred usual time and it always stinks, like the staff know they’re fighting a losing battle trying to keep the place clean so they don’t even try. 

The sorry fuckin’ state of this place, Johnny thinks in revulsion, sneering down at yet another machine damp with sweat from the guy before him. It takes him a minute to wrestle down the impulse to chase after the other alpha and drag him back by his hair before shoving him face down into the puddle of sweat on the seat he left for someone else to clean up. 

Only the threat of being permanently banned keeps his temper in check. That can only last for so long though.

It’s gotten to the point where he seriously considers taking Gaz up on his offer to come with him to the gym downtown. He’s a danger to himself and others here; a walking time bomb rapidly ticking down. Each day, something new tests the limits of his patience, like when he comes in one crowded afternoon only to find all of the lockers taken, the locker room stuffed to the brim with alphas and a few straggler betas. 

He sits in his car with the heat on for an hour until the gym clears out, steaming enough to fog up the windows. Nearly turns right back around when he enters the locker room to find it absolutely demolished—damp towels strewn about, shower water all over the floor, and stinking to high heavens of sweat, body odour, and piss. 

There’s still a dent in one of the lockers from the brief loss of his temper. He doesn’t cop to it, but he makes a point to only use the lockers on the other side of the room from then on.

He’s desperate enough to join Gaz at his fancy downtown gym all of one time, but the facilities there are so serene and sterile that his skin crawls the moment he walks in. Soothing spa music echoes through the three-story gym (no, wellness centre, the staff correct him at the check-in desk, and Gaz has to kick his bad knee to keep Johnny from howling) and verdant green plants grow from pots placed around the facility. 

Like working out in the jungle, he thinks sardonically. 

“How can ye even concentrate here?” he asks, aghast, staring at the group of limber, flexible bodies stretching and straining in a group yoga class behind a nearby glass wall. He licks his lips. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“Ah’m no’ gonna get kicked out for breathing too loud, am ah?” 

“If anything, you’re gonna get kicked out for public indecency,” Gaz sneers, looking down pointedly at Johnny’s open hand inching towards his crotch. “Can you chill out, mate?”

“It’s no’ my fault! They’re arching their backs ‘n pushing their tits out. Ah shouldnae have to look at that when ah’m tryin’ tae work out.” 

“Would it kill you to not run your mouth off for five fucking minutes?”

Johnny mimes zipping his lips and then follows Gaz downstairs to the locker room, where the wall-length granite sink and infrared sauna make his eyes nearly bug out of his head. 

To no one’s surprise, he doesn’t go back. Gaz doesn’t ask him again either.

An appointment one day pushes his schedule back a couple hours and he shows up later than usual, his teeth clenched tight the whole drive over because he expects the worst. Double the occupants, double the meatheads. 

But when he pulls into a near empty lot, the knot of tension in his chest loosens. Only a handful of cars, and most of them are parked near the take-out place at the other end of the complex. 

It’s practically a wasteland when Johnny walks in. A few people here and there, but otherwise deserted. Only a single person posted near the free weights. 

Even the locker room is more palatable. Freshly cleaned and stocked with new towels. All of the showers have been scrubbed down and dried, the curtains tucked behind the holdbacks and waiting for someone to use them. It’s like walking into a brand new gym. 

“Yeah, this is kind of the sweet spot,” a staff member tells him when he rocks up to the desk to ask about it. “We get a lot of alphas that come here right after five, so when it empties out around nine, we have the cleaning staff come in to sanitize everything.”

“Well shit,” he laughs, pushing back from the desk and lacing his hands behind his head. “Guess yer gonna see me more often.”

True to his word, he starts showing up later and later, the streetlights plump and gold when he swerves into the parking lot and parks in the middle of two spots purely because he can. There’s a new bounce to his gait, a pep in his step. 

It fucks up Johnny’s schedule for a bit, but it’s well worth getting home well after midnight if it means that he gets the gym to himself. No one to complain when he groans and pants through each rep, sweat dripping from his face and body onto the floor, weights slammed against the mat with a loud thud every time he finishes a set. 

(In truth, he’s no better than the alphas that plague the gym during the evening hours, but he’s long made peace with being a hypocrite.)

For a moment, it seems like life will at least be bearable until the month is over and he can go back to training at his regular gym. All he has to do is wait it out. 

When it first catches his nose, he splinters down the middle.

It happens when Johnny’s on his way out for the night, muscles warm and only slightly sore, the kind of soreness that’ll dissipate by the time he flops into bed. It’s later than usual—closer to one than twelve, and he’ll feel it in the morning when he’s forced to get up at his usual hour—but there’s hardly anyone else in the gym and for that, it’s worth it. 

The strap of his gym bag digs into his shoulder as he tosses a hand up on his way, saying goodbye to the beta manning the front desk on his own. A shame that he’s stuck on his own all night. It would drive Johnny crazy to be stuck at work with no one to talk to—it’s one of the reasons that he followed Gaz into private security when they both got out of the service. 

He turns around, about to step out of the gym, when a peculiar smell tries to sneak past him. A slippery thing, silverfish quick and just as conspicuous. 

He catches it though. Hunting dog with a purebred snout, he sniffs it the second it wafts under his nose and goes ramrod straight, egress forgotten. 

The door to the women's locker room is closed, but he can smell the faint traces of the omega’s scent clinging to it. She must have touched it on her way out. Must have placed her palm against the door and shoved. The alpha beneath his skin that wears his face stills as well, everything vanishing into the singular nature of the scent emanating from the locker room door. 

In twenty-nine years, he’s never felt so—

(unmoored, untethered

sinking into it like a stone, not coming apart but unraveling altogether—)

He breathes in again and it’s fainter now, but he can still smell it. Candy pink frosting, so sweet that his teeth hurt and his dick throbs. Juicy like a ripe peach waiting for his teeth. It wafts from the women’s locker room, so subtle that it’s clear that whoever it belonged to is long gone. He must have just missed her, an hour separating them at most. 

It’s like nothing he’s ever smelt before. No omega in heat has ever made his head spin like this, every inch of him attuned to a single scent. Even slick on his tongue has never made him feel like this, rut thundering through his bones and snapping him into a new shape.

The hunger shifts from his throat to his stomach, settling in deep. And the beast under his skin that wears his face opens its maw, ropey strands of spittle stringing between its teeth. 

“Hey man, you good?” 

Johnny blinks, looking over his shoulder to find the guy at the front desk frowning at him. It snaps him out of whatever spell he’d been under. His alpha recedes beneath his skin again, hungering but quieter. 

“Uh…” he clears his throat, pulling the strap of his bag back up onto his shoulder from where it slipped down. Gives the guy a thumbs up. “Yeah. Sorry—lost my train o’ thought.”

The employee stares at him for a beat before mumbling, “Okay…” under his breath and looking back down at the computer.

Johnny stares at the door for another few seconds before finally leaving.

He sweats all the way home. Worries, wonder, and woes. Blinks and suddenly his exit is next, another car behind him honking when he changes lanes abruptly without signalling. Haud yer wheesht, he thinks and flips the other driver off for good measure. 

At home, he paces the length of his house thinking about that omega’s scent until it’s time for bed. Then he tosses and turns until his sleep grows profound and swallows him whole like Jonah. Into the belly of the beast. Nothing to do but let it spit him back out like a peachstone. 

Then morning comes and his jaw clicks when he yawns and his bad knee hurts. 

But worse than the snow pelting his windshield on the drive to work and worse than the cold stinging his face when he parks and stops for his morning coffee is the memory of that smell. 

It’s not as if he doesn’t have any experience with omegas. Despite growing up under the thumb of four alpha sisters, Johnny’s been popular with omegas his whole life. His history with them is an assortment of sordid trysts and quick flings, good enough to scratch an itch but not enough to make him want to bite and keep. 

Sticky, messy, syrupy ruts spent buried between an omega’s soft thighs, gorging himself on slick and pussy; nudging his cock against pillowy lips and then thrusting down their throat, hand palming the base of their skull to hold them in place. 

It’s always been like that though. One and done; a couple days at most to work through the worst of his rut and then out the door, a messy kiss for the road before whistling his way home. Johnny’s good for that. A romp in the hay, a roll in the sack. Generous with his fingers and mouth and cock. 

He’s never craved an omega like this though, never fevered like he fevers now. Itched like his skin was turned inside out in his sleep.

Waking up in the middle of the night panting, the covers under him drenched with sweat and his knot throbbing in his hand, already swollen and aching. Fisting his cock until he has no choice but to roll over and bury his teeth into his pillow, humping the mattress frantically until he comes, eyes watering with the force of his orgasm. 

No tonic for this ailment. It simmers in his blood, infatuation decocting into full blown obsession.

Brontide as leitmotif and it rumbles in his ears. 

Wandering through the city punch-drunk, always waiting for it to catch his nose somewhere else. In line at a salad bar, always a head taller than everyone else (which he’s still getting used to, which is still a strange new fact of civilian life); at a local venue with Gaz for a concert, scenting the air for any sign of them; seated at the back of the coffee shop across the street from the gym, eyes trained on the door.

Waiting. Always waiting. 

And, hungering like a starved dog. 

Saliva pooling in his mouth when he thinks of what it’ll be like when he finally has them under him, desperate and cloying and wet. 

Other omegas smell sickly to him now, off somehow. A facsimile of what he knows is out there waiting for him. He’s not down for a quick fuck anymore. A hand on his chest and doe eyes blinking up at him makes him shudder now, grimacing down at the omega trying to compete for his attention when out there there’s—

His omega.  

Just for him. Made to take his knot and clench around it and squeal when he pumps them full— 

Hishishishishishis. 

So he shrugs her hand off and sends her on her way. 

Johnny spends weeks trying to line up their schedules—his and that elusive omega’s whose scent still permeates the gym even though he never actually sees them in the flesh—to no avail. Even though he’s there waiting at the gym nearly every day, they must stagger their visits. Worse, they seem to come at irregular hours; some days, Johnny shows up and though he can smell the omega’s scent, it’s flat, stale. Like they’ve been gone for hours, ages. Only the oil from their hands still embedded in the dumbbells on the rack. 

He doesn’t even care if anyone’s watching when he brings one up to his nose and breathes in. 

Then abruptly, the scent disappears, and with it, his soundness of mind.

A week gasping for air, flopping belly up. Breathing in nothing, not even the old, stale scent of his omega because they’re gone suddenly without warning. The first couple of days are manageable only because he doesn’t notice it at first, used to his omega taking a couple days off at a time to rest and recover, but then two days stretch into three. And then into four. 

Johnny’s long thought of himself as wild and self-reliant, not accountable to anyone or anything apart from himself. It takes four days to obliterate that notion. 

On the fourth day, he wakes up and his agony crawls out of his mouth on spindly legs. 

It follows him to work and back, an ache between his shoulder blades and a gnawing, wretched hunger for something he can’t have because it’s beyond his grasp. Smoke now, lost in the ether. He drives across town before and after work, hoping that they’ll suddenly reappear and set his mind at ease, but the gym only smells of alpha funk and his own souring mood. 

Too long without it. He’s nothing but a shell of himself in its absence, without the scent of his omega to calm him down, and it makes Johnny realize that he wasn’t doing well on his own before but just barely surviving. Barely keeping his head above water. 

Ghost hauls him out of a bar by the scruff of his neck on Saturday night when he almost starts a fight, and only sinking his canines into the other alpha’s forearm calms him down. He slumps forward in the bigger man’s hold and whines when Ghost strokes a hand down his back and murmurs something vaguely soothing in his ear, his words muffled by the mask. He even lets Ghost drag him back home and curls up on his couch until a balled sock hits his head and he slinks into Ghost’s bedroom, dragging his feet the whole way.

His longing is excruciating. Pathetic. Like a dog with its own empty bowl in its mouth begging for scraps.  

Gaz still calls every day because they’ve been joined at the hip since they first met almost a decade ago and it’s not long before he picks up on the shaky note in Johnny’s voice, stilted conversations becoming wholly incomprehensible. Even Price calls him towards the end of the week to ask if he’s doing alright. No, sir. Yes, sir. Ah’m fine, sir. 

“Was it Gaz who snitched?” Johnny gripes, cutting a side-eyed glare at the alpha on the bench next to him curling sixty pound weights and groaning like he’s getting sucked off at the same time. Still no sign of his omega. 

“Well, it wasn’t Simon.”

That makes him snort. Last time he tells that traitor a goddamn thing about his life. 

Absence does not make the heart grow fonder. It makes the world seem fetid and bland, and he looks out at it through dull eyes, anger kindling inside. Makes his stomach cramp like there’s nothing in it. It takes the sheen out of an oil spill, leaving only the mess and rot behind. 

And then suddenly it’s back like nothing happened, stopping him in his tracks as he walks into the gym. They must have gone out of town for the week, on vacation or visiting family, something so trivial that he’d laugh if his innards weren’t char and ash. If his alpha weren’t half-feral, blotting out his thoughts for hours at a time, all instinct and anger and teeth taking over until he regains clarity and the sky is dark.

It nearly brings him to his knees when he walks into the gym and the smell of his omega blooms bright and nacreous. The gym staff eye him with growing uncertainty, but he’s hardly the most concerning customer at a big box gym (last week someone locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls with a knife), so they leave him to his own devices when he’s finally able to move again.

His omega isn’t there, of course. Johnny can tell from a quick glance around the gym and a sniff of the air. But they were, and that’s all that matters. 

Their reappearance sharpens his resolve. Runs it against a whetstone, his time of waiting coming to an end. He rolls his shoulders back and puffs his chest out in anticipation. It can’t come soon enough. 

Nothing stays silent for long when a wolf is watching from the shadows. Eventually it has to make a sound. 

It’s quiet in the gym at two a.m. (a far cry from his usual time, but the hunt demands sacrifice), only the sound of a single treadmill whirring and shoes hitting the belt disturbing the near silence. 

Johnny smells you the second he walks in. It punches him right in the chest when he inhales and the ripe, sticky scent of his omega flows into his lungs. Mouth watering on instinct. Rutilant eyed, he tilts his head wolf-like and stares down towards the other side of the gym where a pretty thing fiddles with the settings on the treadmill, settling into a light jog. 

He’s buried under an avalanche of want so powerful and so swift that it collapses him down to base instinct. Thoughts disconnected and hazy, blooming like a bruise in his head. 

Shouldnae be here, he wants to croon in your ear while he holds you down, almost swaying on his feet at the thought. Should be back in my bed at home takin’ my dick so deep in yer gorgeous cunt that ye can taste my cum on the back of yer tongue—

The employee manning the front desk doesn’t even look up when Johnny scans his pass and pushes through the turnstile, flipping to the next page of the magazine open in front of him.

It’s better that way. Johnny doesn’t know what he’d do if someone tried to stop him or get in his way. 

The gym is deserted at this time of night, only the single treadmill in use and someone that passes him on their way out, a gust of wind at Johnny’s back signalling their departure. Everything always works out in his favour. He suffers for it, but God rewards him for his patience. 

He takes a seat on the closest available training machine and doesn’t even pretend to use it. Johnny’s never been much of a performer anyway. Instead, he drops his gym bag down on the floor beside the chest press machine and leans forward, elbows resting against his knees. 

He’s lucky that you’re too concentrated on your workout to feel the heat of his stare. Your phone rests on its side in front of you, an episode of a show playing to distract you while you run. Earphones in to block out the noise. He knows Ghost would tell him to correct that. Can’t have his omega distracted while alphas lurk nearby waiting to dig their teeth into the supple lump of flesh sitting tantalizing just below the collar of your shirt—

A bead of sweat runs down his temple and his dick twitches in his sweats. 

There are cuffs in his gym bag. Tools of the trade. It’s not as innocent as he lets himself think, but they’re there in case things go sideways. Sideways like if you take one look at him and run the other way when you notice the way his half-lidded eyes barely blink as he stares at you. 

And he can’t have that. Not now that he’s found you. 

His patience is unwavering when the circumstances call for it. It’s a skill he picked up in the service, learning to channel all of the frenetic energy coursing through him into a tight point at the back of his mind, compressing it all down to a singularity that later he’ll allow to expand and burn itself out like a dying star. 

Not now though. Now he sits and he watches and he waits.

He stares at your ass while you run, crossfaded on his alpha’s slabbering hunger and his own need to wrench those leggings down your hips. When he has the luxury of time, he’ll tie you to his bed by your wrists and ankles, belly down to make it easier on him, and sink his teeth into the flesh of your ass until it’s tender to the touch, until even ghosting his hand over your ass makes you squirm and weep. 

Even the thought has a growl rumbling at the back of his throat. 

You’re not a very fast runner, but you’re quick enough. Like a rabbit, Johnny thinks and nearly laughs at his own joke. A distracted one at that, too concerned with what’s in front of you to notice what’s lurking right behind. 

No matter. He sits and he waits. 

Eventually, the treadmill starts to slow down, and with it, you. Panting to catch your breath. Fingers trembling when you pause the video on your phone and scrub a towel down your face to wipe off the sweat. 

And for once the entire gym smells of nothing but a honeyed sweetness. Spun sugar and strawberry Angel Delight. Intoxicating and heady. It permeates the building, dragging him deeper into a drugged haze, dulling his senses, plugging his ears with cotton until the only thing he can hear is the sound of your rabbit-quick heartbeat going bump-bump-bump in your chest.

You must have been finishing your workout with a light jog because when the treadmill comes to a complete stop, you take another second to catch your breath and then step off to the side, draping your towel around the back of your neck and heading for the locker room. 

Johnny feels himself rise to his feet but there’s no consciousness behind it. No intent beyond primordial reflex, prey drive kicking in when you try getting away. He forgets about everything else—the employee at the front desk, his gym bag next to him. His knees don’t even crack for once, the movement fluid, and when he follows you towards the locker room, his feet hardly make a sound. 

It’s to his advantage that you haven’t noticed him yet, but he’ll deal with that soon enough. The locked room door swings shut behind you and there’s a second where he hesitates, better thoughts creeping past his alpha to whisper in his ear that he doesn’t have to do it this way. He’s never had trouble with an omega before—why use force now?

And then he hears a locker slam shut on the other side and instinct takes over. 

You’re half-undressed in the middle of the locker room when he walks in, clad only in your panties and bra, and his world narrows down to that moment. Everything in his life has led him to this. Like a red sea parting; the universe suddenly giving him a sign, beckoning him forth. 

The door swings shut behind him and your ears twitch at the noise. 

He’s done this before in another life. Three strides and he slips right up behind you, arms winding around your front to pull you into his chest and covering your mouth with his hand. You freeze for a split second before going haywire, flailing in his hold, his hand muffling your screams.

“Shh, it’s just me, doe,” Johnny shushes you, arms constricting around you. Relishing the feeling of your body against his, warmer and softer than he imagined. 

You shriek behind his hand, twisting in his hold and trying with all your might to break free. Simple thoughts for simple creatures. Even when you try to bite his hand, Johnny only coos, cock swelling at the feeling of your tongue on his skin. The little kittenish licks just rile him up. He likes it less when you try to headbutt him, narrowly missing his nose when you throw your head back. 

When he dips his nose into the crook of your neck, he can’t help the growl that slips out of him.

“Enough o’ tha’,” Johnny growls, words reverberating with his annoyance. 

The sound makes you still, prey instincts as sharp as his. Smart girl. You know when not to push your luck. He’s bigger and stronger, and his teeth are precariously close to your mating gland, which sits nestled in the crook of your neck. 

He breathes in. Your scent is strongest there, at the base of your neck. A delicate layer of skin and then underneath it, your blood sings. Whispers praises high and sweet to him. A shuddering breath out. 

You mumble something behind his hand. Tremble violently, your nails digging into his forearm with a biting sting. 

He shushes you again. “No’ here, baby—gotta take ye somewhere more private.” 

He pays no mind to the way you resume your screaming behind his hand as drags you deeper into the locker room and away from the door. Hardly needs to use any of his real strength, only a fraction of it. The fight you put up would almost be endearing, would almost make him go thatta girl and nip at the tip of your nose, if not for the way it triggers his instincts, an innate urge to dominate you into submission. 

It isn’t hard to wrestle you to the floor in the showers. Like play fighting, all bark and whine and keen, teeth snapping an inch from his nose until he pins you under him, snarling right in your face until you submit. That gets you to stop making a fuss. The last thing he wants is to deal with a front desk employee trying to play the hero by pulling him off you. Not that anyone could. He’d rather this not end in bloodshed. 

“Tha’s better,” Johnny growls. “Jus’ be nice, a’right?”

You shiver at his words, eyes wide and petrified, darting all over his face. Even tinged with your fear, how could he not preen under your gaze now that you’re getting a proper look at him? He knows what he looks like—rugged and strong, mohawk recently cleaned up and beard freshly trimmed. Not a behemoth like Ghost, but big for an alpha, broad shouldered and beefy. 

Big for an alpha in a couple different ways, he leers.

“Don’t hurt me,” you whimper, and that breaks his heart. How could he ever? How could he ever look at something as perfect as you and want to ruin it? His chest aches at the thought. 

“No, baby,” he whines, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face. “Ah would never, baby, never. Dinnae be scared. Ah’m no’ gonna hurt you, doe.” 

He drags his nose down the length of your head, running his tongue over the rounded corner of your jaw. Your sweat tastes of wet roses and tart jam. Still intoxicating, but wrong, sour and sodden with fear. It makes his skin itch and his shoulders tense. You shouldn’t be scared of him; his omega should never be scared of him. 

“Ye cannae smell it, doe?” he asks, pressing a soft kiss into your neck, lingering there so he can feel your pulse flutter against his lips. “Ah can… Cannae smell a damn thing else when yer around. S’all ah can think about.”

“What are you talking about?” you whisper, so frightened that you can barely squeeze the words out, fear choking you. He can’t stand it. The thought that you might find him dangerous makes his throat burn, agony ripping his chest open and yanking his insides out. 

He braces himself up on his forearms and forces his hand under your head, lifting your head up off the tile floor.

“How do ah smell, doe?” Johnny rasps, shoving your face into his neck and holding you there until you have no choice but to inhale. He feels the way you shudder when you do, hands spasming against his chest. “Smells good, doesn’t it? Just breathe it in, doe.”

You do, shakily. Then a deeper inhale, filling your lungs with his scent. 

“I—oh god—” you groan, your hands suddenly fisting in Johnny’s shirt and dragging him closer. 

“Jesus,” he curses through clenched teeth, dizzy with lust. He goes with it, laying more of his body weight on top of you, hind brain taking over.

A long, deep inhale. Your nose digs into his neck. “What is that?” you whine. 

“S’the best thing in the fuckin’ world.” An understatement. Johnny’s eyelids fall shut when your tongue pokes out to lightly graze his neck. 

So much pent up emotion and anguish and want only for it suddenly—

stop.

Motion succumbing to instinct, to fate. Everything else is collateral damage when fate gets in the way. 

Your hands fisted in his shirt, scent ripening, fear replaced with something else—still sharp, but charged. Hesitant because you shouldn’t want this—it shouldn’t even be a thought in your head to indulge the strange man who wrestled you to the floor and forced you to scent him, but then you get a good whiff of him and that thought shakes like television static, like a mirage, like a glass surface wobbling right before it breaks—

When he pulls back, the world is different. 

You’re glassy eyed, so pliant now that he could do anything to you, anything at all. And then his eyes dip lower. 

He cups your neck with a clammy hand and strokes a finger over the lovely gland at the crook of your neck. It’s warm to the touch. 

“Look a’ this,” he breathes, awed. Your hand flies to his wrist, fingers barely able to wrap around it. 

“D-don’t touch it,” you choke out, swallowing harshly. It has to be sensitive. Still, Johnny can’t keep from stroking his finger over it again, soaking up the way his touch makes you shiver. Poor thing, gone so long without your alpha’s touch. 

“Ah cannae help it, doe,” Johnny whispers. He switches to his thumb, rubbing the pad of it over your gland until you whine and squirm, eyebrows drawn tight together. “Does it hurt, baby? Do ye need me tae make it better?”

You whine, trying to weakly bat his hand away. “N-no, that’s for my alpha—” 

“Aye, tha’s right.” His eyes gleam fulgurite under the fluorescent lights. “Fer yer alpha.”

He digs his thumb in harder until your mouth opens on a silent cry. 

His alpha drools a messy puddle beneath his skin, jowls sagging. It stares without blinking. 

It’s different than lust or bloodthirst. Darker; deep-seated. He’s never felt this way before, and, if his gut feeling proves true, he never will again. It’s like looking down a vast, dark hall, and seeing only one way out. 

A damp shower room floor in a locker room is no place for him to take his omega for the first time, but he couldn’t lift himself off you if he tried. His muscles feel far too heavy, like lead weights dragging him down, the gravity stronger here somehow.

“Let’s get this off,” he murmurs, sitting back on his haunches.

“Wait—wait, not here, alpha, please—”

Your protests fall on deaf ears. He wrenches your bra over your head, mindful not to let the back of your head smack against the tile floor. “Gentle, gentle—there we go. Tha’s a good girl.”

Your panties come next, stripped off and tossed elsewhere. His lips follow the path of his hands, sucking kisses into your hips and thighs until your fingers thread into his hair and yank. He yelps, scalp tingling with pain.

“Do tha’ again, doe,” Johnny purrs, shuddering when you do. Eyes rolling back in his head.

His world tilts on its axis when he forces your legs apart and stares at the perfect slice of heaven between your thighs. 

“Doe.” Voice broken, shredded. Running his thumb up the seam of your lips and moaning when your hole clenches at his touch and a drop of slick leaks out. “Oh, doe…she’s so…” 

Too awestruck for words. Language is beyond his grasp, too inadequate for the feelings coursing through him. Lacklustre, diaphanous thing. There’s no way to describe the feeling of leaning forward and touching his lips to yours, angling his head to give her a proper kiss, one with tongue and feeling. She kisses him back just as passionately. 

The taste of you is incomparable. He can’t believe he ever thought there was a world where he could subsist on just the smell of you. Impossible now that he’s had you on his tongue. He runs it up the seam of your pussy, the flat of his tongue spread wide to catch every honeyed dewdrop clinging to your skin, sucking each fold into his mouth to be extra thorough. The pearl sitting nice and pretty at the top gets a wet kiss for waiting so long for his touch. 

He pulls back for a second to catch his breath. “So pretty, baby,” Johnny whines, pulling the hood of your clit up with his thumb and sucking her into his mouth.

“Oh my god—” 

He buries his face into your cunt, the bridge of his nose wedged against your clit and making you howl. He doesn’t budge even when you practically wrench his hair out by the roots, too committed to making your pussy squirt all over his face. Not an easy task with the way you keep trying to push him away from your cunt, but Johnny’s always risen to any challenge. 

You howl when he wedges his tongue in as deep as it’ll go, thighs clamping around his head. Not a bad way to go, Johnny thinks in a daze, chin wet with your juices and nose nuzzling your sensitive little clit, making your whole body jolt. He can tell you’re close by the way your thighs spasm and your scent goes marzipan sweet, so lush and rich that his swollen cock leaks in his sweatpants.

It’s easy to get lost in your pleasure; Johnny feels it like it’s his own, his low back aching with the force of your impending orgasm. He misses your clit too much to let her get lonely though, so he lets go of your hip to push a couple fingers into your hole instead of his tongue. 

“C’mon, doe, lemme see ye come,” he whines into your pussy, thrusting all three fingers into your hole, half-lidded eyes with blown out pupils watching the way your pussy gobbles them up. “Just like tha’—oh, there we go, baby, oh my god, come on, yes—lemme have it, doe—”

Your release is wet on his hand and all over his face. Little pussy still milking his fingers, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

A hush falls over the room, the moment almost devotional. He thinks you might be crying, but it’s hard to tell because the blood in his ears is too loud and his hand is wet with your come and he wants nothing more than to do it all over again until you can’t even talk. 

He rises to his feet in a daze, a deep red flush high on his cheekbones. His shirt comes off first, pulled over the back of his head and tossed behind him; his sweats are similarly discarded, tugged down and kicked away until you’re staring up at him in all his hairy, naked glory, cock flush with blood and heavy, drooping away from his stomach.  

He laughs when he notices where your gaze has dropped. “Like what ye see?”

“I don’t know about this—” you start, but he pays your words no mind. 

“C’mere,” he growls, suppressing the urge to wince when he drops to his knees again.

Johnny hooks an arm under your low back, hoisting your hips up until your ass rests against his thighs, making your back arch. It thrusts your tits up towards his face and he nearly goes cross-eyed staring down at your cute little nipples. They look lonely too. 

He gets distracted again, forgetting about sinking his cock in your cunt in favour of hunching over to get his mouth on your tits. Sucks one until it's hard and pebbled against his tongue and circles his tongue over the soft areola skin, completely forgetting about your other breast. It’s hard to pull himself off. 

You yelp when he bites down, not hard enough to hurt, but deliberate enough to tick you off. 

“That’s too rough!” you hiss, grabbing him by the hair again. 

“Sorry,” Johnny gasps. He nuzzles between your breasts, practically purring. “Ah’m so sorry, doe, ah couldnae help myself…”

Puppyish, he leans up to bunt his head under your chin, shuddering when your fingers loosen and hesitantly scratch his head. 

“…Okay…” you murmur, overwhelmed. He ignores you, too content with nuzzling into your neck while you run your nails over his scalp.

Being this close to you after weeks of nothing is almost enough. The air reeks with your scent. If it weren’t for the ugly, festering ache in his belly, he’d be tempted to skip straight to this. Roll onto his back and pull you onto his chest, press his nose to the crown of your head and breathe in until it lulls him right to sleep. Maybe get a good belly scratch at the same time.

Then he inhales and the scent of your come on his chin makes his spine go stiff. Drool leaks from the corner of his mouth.

It can’t wait anymore. The thing under his skin shakes with hunger, its greed a ravenous, frothing appetite that goes mindless when it waits for its food. Do it. Do it now.

He braces a hand against the tile floor to lift himself up and pets your cheek with his free hand. “Ah’m gonna put it in now, okay, doe?” 

And he means it too, stomach cramping with eager anticipation, knot already filling up at the base of his dick—still small enough to pop it into your hole, but not for much longer—because it’s everything he’s dreamt of since he first caught your scent in the air. 

That must not be the case for you. 

When you twist onto your belly and try to scramble away, he stares dumbly for a second before seeing red. Johnny crawls after you, dragging you back by your ankle when you get a bit too far away and flipping you over again. You hiss when the back of your head smashes against the floor, hands reaching up to cradle it instinctively. 

You get it snarled right in your face, his anger erupting out of him like a geyser, like a dense fog rolling down from the mountains and spreading to everything below. “Ye dinnae fuckin’ move.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe. 

Even consumed by rage, he can smell your terror. Putrid, not the soft sweetness of your usual scent. There’s pain there too, and it makes his muscles tense like he’s ready to spring. It’s what brings his alpha to the surface, the scorch of anger cooling slowly as you lie there trembling. 

It doesn’t feel good, but he can’t—he can’t let you go. 

His hands flutter over your face, squeezing your cheeks and leaning down to plant kiss after soft kiss on your lips. “Doe, please, ye cannae do tha’…ah wanna be gentle, but ah cannae control myself if ye—” Johnny can’t bring himself to say it, the image too painful to contemplate. There’s no reason on Earth that his omega should be trying to run away from him.

“O-okay, alpha…I…I’ll be good.” 

His self-control is hairstring thin. “Yer just nervous, right? Tha’ why ye tried tae run?”

“I-I’m just nervous, alpha.” It’s a neat trick, repeating his words back to him in order to calm him down. It works. 

His chest deflates as he kneels there over you. Johnny stares into your eyes a few seconds longer, a subtle reminder not to fucking move, before he sits up again, rolling his shoulders back and tugging your lower half in again. 

This time when he notches the head of his cock against your entrance, you whisper oh god oh god oh god to yourself but you don’t try to run. It must seem inevitable—no way to fight him off or talk him out of it because there’s a film over his eyes that reflects nothing back. 

And then he slowly sinks his cock into you, your hole stretching around the mushroomed head. His jaw rolls on a shaky exhale.

Something in him cracks wide open and—

something ugly slithers out.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, voice cracking. His cock sinks in another inch, warm, wet heat sucking him in. “Jesus, doe, ah cannae fuckin’ breathe—”

You flex your hips at his words, ankles digging into the divots above his arse and pulling him in until he suddenly bottoms out, cock stuffed to the root in the warmest, snuggest cunt he’s ever felt. It nearly makes him go mad; he gets so close to it that his face goes numb, the blood pounding in his ears. He curls over you, a string of curses slipping out of his mouth. 

You’re there when Johnny opens his eyes again, damp hair haloing you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, a tear slipping past your waterline and dribbling down your face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”

“It’s okay, doe.” His hands run up and down your sides, soothing you. “S’just instinct. Ye cannae help it any more than ah can.”

Your walls squeeze around his shaft, nerves making you tense up, and Johnny groans, his hand curling into a fist by your head. It takes every iota of his being not to come right then, buried to the hilt in your pussy with your ankles digging into his low back. He nearly does when you whine at him to move. 

“Okay, baby,” he breathes. 

Johnny tries to be gentle at first. Makes a conscious effort to rock into you with slow, smooth strokes, distracting you with a deep, wet kiss. Lips gliding together, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth only to graze it with his teeth, heat rushing through him when you tremble. Coaxing your tongue into his mouth and then sucking on it.

His control starts to slip when he tries to pull out and your ankles dig into his back, pulling him back in. The force of his next thrust makes your body shift, sliding up the wet floor. Too much. Be gentle. But he can’t—the pressure in his core gets worse the longer he fucks you, an eagerness to reach his end building and building. All he can do is chase it. Bite at its heels. 

“Yer so pretty,” he rasps, petting your face with shaky hands and bucking his hips into yours until you can’t hold back your pretty little moans. “Pretty, pretty doe. Ah’ve got ye, love.”

A few more like that, pounding into you until you squeak like a toy and he laughs, breathless and full of mirth. Buoyant. Revelling in the sound of you coming apart under him, all fractured pleas and kiss-swollen lips. 

Perfect angel, all sweetness and moans and cream coating his cock, gleaming under the fluorescent lights every time he pulls out. 

There’s a white ring at the base of his dick from the mess of your combined fluids. Johnny nearly passes out when he notices. 

His bad knee aches from digging into the tile floor. He’ll feel it in the morning when he wakes up with bruises on his elbows and shins, muscles stiff and twinging when he moves, but it’s a price he’ll happily pay to keep his pretty doe on her back with her legs spread. 

Any lingering guilt about fucking you on the gross shower room floor evaporates the more you pant and the wetter you get because, he rationalizes, on some level you must want him just as bad. Not with the same fervour, not a bone bright ache that sucks you dry and spits you out like a peach pit, but close enough that you aren’t pushing him away anymore. 

He ignores the weak pressure on his shoulders. Pries your hands off so he can pin your wrists together over your head. 

“Been lookin’ fer ye fer so long,” Johnny croons. He ruts into you clumsily, losing any semblance of finesse. “Smelt ye weeks ago ‘n knew…knew ah had tae have ye.”

Your eyes fly open, stunned. “Weeks?” you gasp.

“Thought ah’d lose my fuckin’ mind lookin’ fer ye.” His breath comes out ragged. “Couldnae sleep or eat or do anythin’ except jerk my cock raw. Should’ve saved it all up fer ye, but…” his laughter is a deep, brassy thing. “…ye’ll still get a fair share.”

“You’re disgusting,” you moan, and that makes him laugh even more, rutting into you like a beast.

“Christ, doe, keep runnin’ that mouth.”

“You’re a—”

dumb, nasty dog

sick in the head, fucking me with that big, fat dick—

He grunts and his lip pulls back in a mean, crooked grin. 

It’s never been like this before. Like someone drilled a hole in the side of his head and filled it up with you. You’re in every crevice of his mind and body, mycorrhizal tendril spreading through him.

“Ah’m gonna ruin yer pretty cunt, doe,” Johnny rasps, neck soaked with sweat and eyes burning hot, pupils blown so wide only a glimmer of blue remains. “Get her nice ‘n soaked with my come.”

“Alpha—” you keen, for lack of anything else to call him and it makes his vision go blank. 

That’s the only truth that matters to him. Like a divine calling—his omega begging for him, asking for more more more. It’s as close to love as he’s ever gotten; as close to heaven as he ever will. 

Diving headfirst into oblivion. He clamps his hands around your waist to hold you in place and fucks into you with renewed vigour, losing himself in the pleasure. Any coherent thought evaporates, reduced to mindless instinct. His beast and him are indistinguishable; two sides of the same coin; he looms over you Janus-faced, a god of beginnings and endings. 

He breathes out heavily through his nose, teeth gritting together and lips pulled into a flat line. So close to it, knot catching more with every thrust, almost too big to pull out. 

The smack of his hips against yours fill his ears, drowning out your pleading and keening. Seismic motions churning beneath the tile floor keep a steady pulse. The lewd squelch of your pussy nearly drives him mad—slick running down your thighs, pooling onto the floor beneath you, this place irrevocably changed because of your mating— 

If only you’d squirt on his dick too, he could die happy. Scream out alpha, alpha, alpha until you shudder and come.

And you do eventually—milk his dick filthy sweet and cling onto him for dear life, nails scoring red lines into the flesh of his back. His muscles bunching under your touch. 

“Fuck, doe,” Johnny chokes, near tears himself. His perfect girl coming all over his cock, eyes rolling back in your head like it’s never been like this for you before. “Tha’s right, tha’s right—such a good fuckin’ girl—oh, baby—”

You need him. No other alpha can take care of you he would. It’s not enough that he fuck you, not enough that he make you come, not enough that he see you through your next heat, he has to—

Take it all for himself, every last fuckin’ inch of you his.

He bears down on you, scooping his arms under your back until there’s no space between you, chests pressed together. 

His eyes zero in on it. The nodule of flesh at the crook of your neck. And his teeth itch like they’ve never itched before, too large for his mouth. 

“Alpha—” you sob, squirming in his hold. “Alpha—too tight—”

He can’t respond. Mouth full of drool and teeth, fucking you harder than you should be fucked, cockhead trying to kiss your cervix with every thrust. He’d crawl inside of you if he could. His thrusts only slow when his knot finally catches, the pressure making you sob when he tries to pull out and he can’t, stuck inside you. Lazy grinds of his hips now, getting as deep as possible. 

It’s a shock to his system so profound that he can’t stop shaking. His first knot—better than a ring, more binding than a marriage contract. The most basic, ancient covenant. Irrevocable. 

And—it feels—

Indescribable. His thoughts leak from his ears like tar. Eager, fevered. Eyes fixed on your mating gland, dropping his head to get a better view. Better up close, so close that his teeth graze it every time he pants, so sharp that one wrong move and they’ll slice right through, one twitch and it’s game over—

You mewl and arch your chest, inadvertently thrusting your neck up too, so his canine drags across your gland—

mine mine mine mine mine mine

The beast under his skin has a name and it’s—

mine mine mine mine mine mine

(and his teeth just slipped, he’ll say when you ask)

Ah dinnae mean tae, doe, honest—

But ah’ll take care of ye—

You’ll never understand it, but there’s a beast that lives under his skin and it—

—yearns, craves, hungers, howls like its belly is still empty even after all this time, constantly aching no matter how much it’s fed—

Sometimes Johnny wonders if it’s like this for other alphas. Whether they crave their mates with the same intensity, the same burning need smoldering in their veins. He asks Price once and gets an answer that neither confirms nor denies. 

All Johnny knows is that your legs shake when you follow him out of the gym, the employee behind the front desk not meeting his eyes. Better that he not. There’s still blood and come on his chin, his grey sweats stained at the crotch. You’re no better, shirtless under your puffy jacket, hat jammed on a bit too low on your head because he had to be the one to put you back together after taking you apart. 

And though he’s sheepish on the drive home—because what’s his is yours now, and what’s yours is his—your car still back in the parking lot until he can get someone to pick it up in the morning, he wears guilt like sheep’s clothing. It doesn’t fit quite right. 

“We’ll get ye a nice wedding gift tomorrow,” he placates when you huff, thumbing your swollen bottom lip at the next stoplight. It’s tempting to lean in and suck it into his mouth, even now. 

“I’m gonna max out your fucking credit cards,” you mumble, scowling at him. Still, you wrap your lips around his thumb when he slips it into your mouth. 

You cup your hand over your punctured mating gland in lieu of a bandage. 

Johnny cackles. Man plans and God laughs.

In the distance, thunder rumbles and your head turns towards the sound that only you and he can hear.

[nkogneatho]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒 ✦ 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

—characters: oliver, shidou, sae.

—cw: fem!reader, fingering, pearl necklace, overstimulation, finger sucking, not proofread.

—a/n: i need lobotomy. you do too if you're reading this shit.

𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

oliver's hands are thick and has arms full of veins. he is not exactly a workout freak but he does fair amount of sets during practice resulting in his amazing physique. his fingers are girthy and he has amazing control over them.

oliver likes to spend his time with his fingers up your pussy, stretching your hole with his thick digits. he loves the feeling of your wetness dripping down his knuckles as he pumps them inside you.

"nasty little pussy. always so greedy, right, babe?" he whispers against your ears. "gimme one more and i promise i'll put my cock in then." you know he's lying. you've already came thrice and he's been repeating the same damn thing but won't stop fingering you. you can feel his erection poking your lower back, your pussy fluttering and craving more. too bad. aiku will only pull his fingers out when he wants to and not when you want to.

"oli...ngh—gunna cum," you mewl as your body tightens.

"let go, baby. 'm right here. cum on my fingers, yeah?" and you do, legs shivering as they close up, trapping his arms in place. when you calm down. aiku gives you peck on your head and you finally think he's gonna put it in. finally. "let's see if you can take four fingers." fucking hell.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

shidou's hands are very veiny even when he is not flexing his muscles. but i doubt this man is ever relaxed because he is on adrenaline 24x7. his skin is glowing with melanin so each nerve is visible. he works out a lot. well his workout is divided in two sections. gym and good old sex.

ryu's favorite thing to do with his hands are massage your tits. massage would be and understatement 'cause this man is full on groping, pinching and abusing them. your poor nipples are always sore when he is done with you. don't get me wrong. he loves to suck on them too. but something about fondling them while thrusting in you gets him off so much. even more lovely when he spits on them and smears them with his thumb.

"got such a sexy set on ya, babe. fhuuuck. gonna make me shoot a load just with this. ya won' mind if i slap them yeah?"

*slap*

you hiss at the sensation. "shit. did my pretty pussy just clenched? fucking hell. ah! my balls are tightening," he moans. you think he's gonna cum inside you but shidou pulls out faster than a lightning, his veiny hands tightening and stroking his cock as he aims for your tits. and just in a second, he is shooting thick translucent ropes all over them. he takes his palm and spread his cum all over your tits. "fuck. jus' like a glazed donut." he takes a lick. "best fucking donut ever."

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

given sae's slender yet washboard ab physique, his hands are long. not full of veins but his knuckles are very visible and it's so hot. his veins show when he is working out, pissed or...horny. sae didn't know he had attractive hands and he was dating a person who has a hand kink. what he did know was you loved to always suckle on his thumb when his palm rests on your jaw while dry humping you. so sae tries to push it further this time.

you're sitting and reading a book on the couch before sae's shadow towers over you. you shoot your head up, looking at him with confused eyes. he scans your face for a minute before speaking.

"open," he commands. you're not sure at first what he means but the way his green eyes are fixated on your mouth, your jaw instinctively follows his command like a servant. before you can grasp the situation, sae's middle and ring finger are already in your mouth. he let's you suckle on them for a few seconds and he's quick to start thrusting them. he might have just discovered that you have a hand kink is pretty convenient for him too 'cause the boner he popped might be the fastest ever.

"i am fucked," is all he says before thrusting his digits deeper, his other hand palming his cock through his gray sweats. his biceps buldge out and his veins pop when he fists his dick so you deliver the most appropriate reaction. a moan and a whimper that vibrate around his fingers sending shivers in his body. he's right. he is fucked. and so are you.

[free-slutt]

𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙍 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

a/n: I'm currently awake at 4 am and unable to sleep ive been having some thoughts that I needed to release, and writing this is helping me feel better. this is my first time writing something explicit, so I apologize if it's not the best. please forgive any grammar mistakes. i hope you enjoy reading it. <3

summary: you are searching for a personal trainer and come across an online ad. after calling the trainer, he arranges a session at his home gym. things start to take a spicy turn between the two of you.

warning: smut! 18+ oral (m receiving), spanking, getting manhandled, fingering, pet names like “doll, babygirl” squirting, praising, degrading, rough!!

˖⋆࿐໋

when you move to california to pursue your dream of becoming a model or influencer, you leave behind your family, job, and friends. unfortunately, the move also means leaving behind your favorite place: the gym.

many label me a gym rat, but I simply embrace my love for the discipline it brings and the amazing confidence it gives me in everything I wear.

in the evening, while browsing through tiktok , i suddenly felt a wave of boredom. i let out a sigh, turned off my phone, and began searching for an engaging activity. normally, in situations like this, i would change into my favorite workout attire and head to the gym. however, as i am not at home, i need to find a gym or a personal trainer of my own in this new location.

i opened my macbook and started searching for personal trainers in my new area. I came across a profile of a man who seems to have a lot of experience in the gym and is conveniently located nearby. i must admit, he looks delicious. i decided to message him to arrange a meeting and inquire about his session rates. he responded promptly with his pricing and availability, and it turns out he's available tomorrow morning. as we exchanged goodbyes over text, my mind couldn't help but focus on meeting him in person. if I'm already feeling this way based on some online pictures, i can only imagine how I'll feel when we meet face to face.

i wake up suddenly to the sound of my alarm. as i pick up my phone, i see that it's 5:30. the familiar feeling of nervousness churns in my stomach as i realize that I'm in a new city, about to meet someone new. i made sure to wake up extra early just to ensure that i look my best.

after my shower, i breeze through my skincare routine and add a touch of mascara and some lip balm. I'm just heading to the gym, so nothing too over-the-top, i tell myself. i apply a light moisturizing lotion and a spritz of my favorite perfume. i slip into my matching black bra and thong, then into my sleek all-black workout set with cute black leggings and a fitted black tee. i slide on my nike socks and lace up my new balance 574’s. i brush my hair and secure it with a stylish claw clip, still debating whether to leave it down or tie it up. I'll make up my mind in the uber.

i send him a text to inform him that I'm on my way to the location he had sent me. he reads the message but doesn't reply. oh well, I'm on my way already.

as we pull into his driveway, i can't help but notice how stunning his house is. i wonder what he does for work; being in california, he must be wealthy or famous. i tip my uber driver in cash, thanking him for the ride, and he wishes me luck. I'm definitely going to need it.

i grab my phone out but before i can send him a text i hear a whistle which caught my attention i looked up seeing him standing next to his front door i can’t help but check him out and oh my goodness he’s more attractive in person i can just rip his clothes off right here and there but i have to remain calm im not here for that.

he is wearing grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, with a gold chain around his neck. his hair is lightly stuck to his forehead, indicating that he had a workout before I arrived.

“hey there” he smiles and waves signaling me to come in with his hand

i smile back and step into his house him standing behind me the whole time closing the door and walking towards me

"I'm nicholas, I'm your trainer. It's nice to meet you." oh my, his smile. his smile. his smile. I'm going to fold, i know I am, but I have to keep my calm. i don't even know him. i don't know if he's single or even married.

“hi, i’m y/n” i take his hand shaking it lightly

"come on, don't be shy," he takes us to his gym and confidently sits down on a bench, gesturing for me to sit next to him with a wave of his hand.

so demanding already.

“so tell me a little bit about yourself, i know you told me you just moved here but what’s the reason for the move and why are you looking for a trainer?” he asked curiously.

“well, i moved here to cali so it’ll be easier for me to achieve some of my goals, i have some experience in the gym but i really feel like ill learn a lot more with a trainer if that makes any sense” you smile shyly causing nicholas to chuckle a little.

“no need to be shy sweetie im here to help you you already look great im sure you’ll do a great job” i cross my legs just at the sound of his voice saying those loving praises, oh i need him so bad.

he notices but tries not to make it so obvious he grabs his water bottle taking a sip and putting down standing up tapping the side of my thigh gently “come on let’s get started”.

we begin with some easy stretches to warm up before the actual run. i couldn't help but notice that he mostly stood there, watching, instead of actively instructing and guiding me, which did bother me a bit.

“do an extended puppy pose for me” i look up at him and he just winks OH. he knows what he’s doing so i decide to play along as well.

as i get on all fours getting ready to get in the pose arching my back a little i can see nicholas from the side of my eye starting so hard i can’t help but silently giggle to myself.

“am i doing this good enough nicholas?? how’s my arch looking” he chuckles at my words a little.

“oh you’re doing so good y/n, you look amazing but i think you need a little help here” he comes down next to me getting on his knees right behind my ass and pushing my arch down so my stomach is hitting the floor beneath me.

“just like that?” I question.

“just like that, good girl” those words sent shivers down my spine i let out a soft sigh.

“what’s the matter sweetie?” he questioned.

i shake my head not responding to him “can we just do the next exercise?” i get on my knees so i can stand up but he comes in front of me putting one hand on my shoulder keeping me on my knees.

“let’s do some leg spreads i’ll help and guide you”.

i lay on the mat on my back and nicholas gets down on his knees again grabbing one of my legs bending it back a little.

“let’s start of slow sweetie i don’t want to hurt you”.

after doing a couple of reps nicholas stops and can’t help but notice something.

he chuckled “someone’s excited?”.

“what?” i ask not getting exactly what he’s talking about.

he spreads my leg a little further back.

“you’re so wet you’ve leaked through your panties it’s all on those leggings of yours”.

“i-im so sorry i-“ he cut me off.

“don’t worry about it doll, im having way more fun than you could possibly imagine” he bends down to kiss me and i went full in, tongue and everything.

after a few minutes of us making out he rips open my leggings with his bare hands which caused me to throw my head back and lightly groan, his eyes burning into my skull the whole time. never once taking those beautiful brown eyes off of me.

he pulls my panties to the side.

grabbing my mouth harshly “open and spit”.

i did as told, he sticks them in my mouth reaching the back of my throat causing to me gag.

he laughed and smiled “think you take all of my dick in there huh babygirl?”.

he pulled my panties to the side and started playing with me lightly flicking the clit and switching between fingering me and playing with my clit.

the groans escaping his mouth seemed a little animalistic like he hasn’t touched a woman in a very long time he’s eager and i can tell he wants to fuck me into the ground literally. 

“mmm you’re so fucking wet, you’ve been excited since you got here hm? or was it those photos i sent you last night that has you like this for me? horny and ready to get fucked by her trainer? it’s only day one babygirl and here you are legs spread open pussy juice dripping all over my fucking fingers, what am i going to do with you”.

i moan loudly his words. his actions. the sounds. everything just feels and sounds so fucking good i didn’t want him to stop.

“oh im gonna come” i felt the urge to release the feeling you get in your stomach when you know your going to cum and go crazy “please dont stop nicholas”.

“such a fucking good girl” he kept pumping his big thick fingers in and out of me which caused me to release all over his gym floor.

“oh shit baby, look at you fuck” he says rubbing my clit on a fast pace, i grabbed his hand trying to get him to stop since it feels way to good to handle.

“please” he grabs my face and kisses me harshly shoving his tongue all down my throat saliva dripping down in between the both of us.

“come on take this off” he removes my shirt and bra taking off what’s rest of the leggings throwing it somewhere in the gym.

he takes his shirt and sweats off leaving him completely exposed no boxers or anything on, he knew what he wanted to do.

“come on baby get on your knees let’s see if you can fit this dick all in that pretty mouth of yours, gagging on two fingers. that’s pathetic sweetheart you got to do better than that”.

i get on my knees and take his member into my hand lightly kissing and licking his desperate throbbing dick leaking pre cum everywhere, i quickly take my tongue and clean up the mess he made.

“now this is a great mouth exercise for you pretty you’ll love it” he laughs and i roll my eyes member still in my mouth looking up at him not breaking eye contact.

“oh come on” he pushes my head down taking his whole dick into my mouth repeatedly touching the back of my throat i tap and grab on his thighs signaling i needed to breath and catch my breath, he threw his head back in pleasure looking back down grabbing my hair and pulling me off of his dick.

“told you you couldn’t take it”

“mmm stop let me do it” i pout he reaches his hand and cups my cheek and caressing my hair rubbing circles on the top of my head.

i grab his dick taking him all in and taking him out grabbing it and lightly jerking him off, as i continue to jerk him off i suck off what’s left that i couldn’t fit in my mouth.

“mm fuck”

“just like that baby”

“such a good fucking girl for me”

i take him in once again feeling him twitch making sure he’s hitting the back of my throat so i can swallow all of his sweet juices.

he grabs my hair making it into a makeshift ponytail fucking my face at the perfect pace for him, he looks so good he can just take control and do what he wants at this point.

i feel him twitch again which means he’s super close this time he didn’t let me go he made sure he stayed in the back of my throat resting his cock in my mouth while he released all inside of my mouth.

“swallow that shit baby be a good fucking girl for me”

oh boy, this is just the first session i wonder what’s going to happen next time.

˖⋆࿐໋



[yoru-no-seiiki]

[part two]

brainrotting about yan! cool kid. like komi’s brother who’s like hella quiet and never interacts with others but people keep fanboying/fangirling/gushing about him.

yan! cool kid who sits beside or behind you in every class.

yan! cool kid who despite looking like he wants to be anywhere but in his seat, earbuds plugged in, eyes staring off to the sky from the window right next to his seat like the anime harem protag he is except he’s actually just listening to your voice through a mic he planted on you.

yan! cool kid who always brings two umbrellas so that he could give one to you when you need it.

yan! cool kid who fantasizes about being with you 24/7. making songs about how he feels, drawing your visage on his notes, and using you as inspiration to study.

(it works too well and he’s always at the top of your class)

yan! cool kid who forces you to pair up with him in every single project. you just happened to be the closest to him. it’s convenient. deal with it.

yan! cool kid who uses the opportunity to get into your house and surround himself with your scent. if only he didn’t need oxygen otherwise he’d be stitch on your sweaty ass gym uniform/workout clothes unto his face.

yan! reader who smiles knowing that their crush is as depraved as they are to him. giggling as they take a video of the school’s most popular and handsome guy getting off to their scent. hands desperately chasing release — one rough tug and he’s spilling all over your bedsheets. judging from the amount of fluids it definitely wasn’t his first climax since you left to ‘make a bite to eat’

[eamour]

avoid any action.

with manifesting, there comes an intrusive urge to act. a deep need to do something to get something. we often try to change our world or ourselves through actions. however, we don’t alter or attain things with the use of our bodies. we can only ever achieve things with the use of our MINDS.

! this post was partially inspired by @sparklingself and her post called "do nothing" !

law of assumption.

let’s take a look at what the law of assumption states.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

law of assumption

/lɔː/ /ɒv,əv/ /əˈsʌm(p)ʃn/

"the law of assumption postulates that the assumptions of an individual shape and create one's physical reality."

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

so, what does that mean? how does this help us?

mentally, not physically.

just like assumptions take place in the mind, so does everything related to manifestation. after all, manifestation is forever done in the mind, and not with the body. all events that have taken place physically, first took place mentally. everything external used to be internal. conversely, you can only put out what you already put in.

in conclusion, you cannot DO anything. there is nothing for you to perform, nothing for you to execute, nothing for you to accomplish. you can only BE. so, in order to become someone new, to coerce something into BEING, you need to refrain from taking any action. let go of all efforts to alter the physical. instead, alter the mental.

mental and physical in contrast.

okay, alright, but what if you still try to physically achieve your goals? how about we try to prove the law wrong. let's say you want to get xyz while being in a negative mindset in relation to xyz. you don’t really believe in getting xyz, nor do you believe in yourself. but if you try your best physically, it should still workout, right?

nope. and i'll tell you why. you can never alter yourself with an act in opposition to your belief. your desired version of self cannot be attained by force. you cannot force yourself to achieve something while already knowing you won't or can't. if it isn’t already withIN you, it won’t and can't be withOUT you.

on the other hand, that version of yourself with your current mindset in that present state is NEVER going to achieve xyz. because that version of you is tied to that self concept, that state and that reality. creation is finished, meaning, this reality is finished. it’s forever going to look like that. you are forever going to be like that. ONLY if you change your state from within, you can ensure a change from without. that’s when you shift your state of mind, and therefore, your physical reality. you cannot physically shift. you need to mentally shift. because no matter HOW much you try to make reality B (undesired) look like reality A (desired), it won’t ever change the fact that you are still experiencing reality B.

externally dependent action.

now, what about the 3D? what if i am changing my assumptions but don’t experience them physically yet? this part is very important for any of you who are thinking of completely turning your back on your 3D, who feel overwhelmed by it or don’t know how to deal with it.

1 · first of all, you are doing great. keep doing it.

2 · second of all, living in the end and focusing on embodying your desired version of self does not mean that you start refusing to LIVE. you aren’t supposed to deny or reject your human experience when it’s not convenient for you. you are still going to do your chores, have your responsibilities, attend school, go to work, and so on. in your mind, however, you are being who YOU want to be and have what YOU want to have. it’s about knowing the external world is going to change because it has to, plus balancing experiencing both worlds. in the end, your outer world will show you how your inner world looks like.

often times, suddenly abandoning yourself in the physical world will only harm you because then it will only be harder for you to dismiss the negative parts of your reality. it usually makes things a lot more draining and challenging.

physical techniques and methods.

this is just gonna serve as a reminder: techniques and methods are only there to help. they aide you to obtain a feeling of "naturalness" in correlation to your desires. they don’t do the manifesting. actually, they have no power on their own. you know who does the manifesting? YOU. you and only you. thus, you can do a method 111 times and still not manifest your desire because your assumptions say otherwise. everything you manifest with the support of a method or technique can be traced back to you, moreover your MIND's power. not your bodies power, and certainly not your hands ability to write down a script 123 times.

"there is no need to do something. don’t do anything. because if you WERE who you wanted to be, all you would do is experience BEING it. you wouldn’t DO anything." — edward art

don’t change it. let it be changed.

with love, ella.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

more gentlemen thoughts, insta edition 🤍🫧

gentleman! bakugou, who makes you tag him in photos of you. who says he doesn’t give a fuck about social media, but who is always the first to view/like your stories. who makes you delete other guys comments on your posts who knows your beautiful and knows damn well how jealous he gets. who barely ever posts, but lets up with a collage of all his favourite photos of you and a sweet caption on your anniversary. who rolls his eyes when you freak out about it, but loves how it makes you blush.

gentleman! izuku, who dedicates a highlight to you. who puts your user in his bio with a little <3 next to it. who only occasionally posts on his stories, but does it more when he’s with you. who will send you pics of animals being cute together and say ‘us.’ who makes long captions on your anniversary, probably having to continue it in the comments. whose students find his instagram and tease him about all the sweet photos with you. who isn’t ashamed about showing you off.

gentleman! shouto, who doesn’t really understand the concept of instagram until you show him. who is the kind of guy to have the blank profile photo until changing it to a photo of you and him. who reminds you not to doomscroll, but always finds the most obscure reels to send to you. who has a groupchat with all his siblings and adds you to it, though he only sends gifs, emojis, or one-worded texts. who loves those subtle soft launches- holding hands, or posting a selfie with lipstick kisses on his face (his followers freak out.)

gentleman! kirishima, who you have those dumb, matching profile pictures with (you know EXACTLY what i’m talking about !). who loves posting workout photos with you, mirror selfies where he’s back hugging you with the caption saying how proud he is of you. who puts your initial in his bio, and turns almost as red as his hair when he sees the e.k <3 in yours. who only has posts for his family and for you. who somehow has the worst photos of you, but insists on loving them anyway- he’ll delete them if you really want him to, but he’ll pout relentlessly. who reposts every one of your selfies, just proud to love you.

gentleman! denki, who makes you his profile picture- a cute, funny photo or maybe a photo of you as a kid. who is never not sending you things (he is the ceo of brainrot). who posts clips of you two playing games together, conveniently only posting the clips where you suck just to tease you. who always reposts the ‘i love my girlfriend’ tiktoks and tags you in his stories. who posts cute screenshots of ur convos and call screens whenever you’ve been on for a long time. who comments on your posts saying ‘i won’.

gentleman! hitoshi, who puts your user in his bio and ‘favourite’ right next to it. who only has two posts on his profile- just a random one with little sneak peaks from his life, and one thats just you. who manages to take the best photos of you without even trying, and refuses to delete them even when they take up half his storage. who is a fast responder only for you, taking hours to text back anyone but who’ll read your text right away. who has a link to your shared spotify playlist in his bio (he has the best music taste). who has you and you alone on his cfs, posting little messages and online love letters for you to see <3

[v6quewrlds]

HOMIESEXUAL, BURROW & IOSIVAS.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow/andrei iosivas x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀10.3k.

summary⠀⁎⠀joe burrow comes and goes through your life like the tides. just when you think you've caught him, he slips away from your grasp. just when you think you've finally moved on, he sneaks back in with empty promises. as if things couldn't get any messier, enter andrei iosivas, joe's wide receiver.

author's note⠀⁎⠀huge thank you to @xolilyxo for saving my life with this idea <3 i haaaate writing meet-cutes/first dates so bear with me for the first part of this fic. joe is genuinely horrible in this one sorry lmao but i love toxic!joe and this was so fun to write. will be taking a little bit of a break from this blog so take this as an apology <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀some usage of y/n, vicious cycles, situationships, reader needs to stand up, 18+ mdni, smut, angst, fingering, a singular spank, backshots!, choking, empty promises, joe will say anything for a nut, condoms used as metaphors lollll, no real ending bc i couldn't choose.

You adjusted your earbuds, the pounding bass of your workout playlist keeping pace with your sprints on the treadmill. The burning in your lungs was a familiar sensation, a small price to pay for the endorphin rush that washed over your tense muscles.

Your attention was squarely focused on your sprints and breathing, exhaling sharply as you watched the clock on the treadmill count down to the end of your cardio session. The chime signaling the end of your workout pierced through the music, and you slowed to a jog, taking a moment to catch your breath and lower your heartbeat.

As you lowered the speed and incline to a brisk walk, you felt a presence beside you. You glanced over to find Andrei, the Bengals' wide receiver, hopping onto the treadmill next to you. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and a smile slowly spread across his face in recognition.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and easy. You took in the sight of him, the tattoos on his left arm flexing as he pressed the start button on the machine. “Y/N, right?”

The two of you had met a few times in passing at games and parties, but you never really had a chance to get to know him beyond small talk. “Yeah. You're Yoshi?” you said with a smile, using the nickname you had heard the team float around him.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Andrei, but Yoshi's cool. I didn't know you came to this gym.” He matched your pace as you walked side by side, your legs moving in unison.

“Yeah, it’s convenient, for when I’m in town for work and don’t want to miss a workout. How about you? How’s your first off-season in the league treating you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you inhaled and exhaled as intentionally as you could.

Andrei’s smile grew. “It’s been intense, but I’m loving every second of it. Gets a little lonely without the team around though. How about you? You work with Sam's fiancee, right?”

“Jess? Yeah. She was my RA during my freshman year. We work in marketing together. She’s the one who talked me into joining her in Cincinnati after I graduated. Best decision I ever made, really,” you replied.

Andrei nodded, his gaze flickering to the screen of his treadmill as he cranked up the speed, long, tanned legs still in a walk despite the speed increase. “I'm still getting used to the city, but the people here are great. And the fans are crazy about football, which is pretty awesome to be a part of.” He took a sip of his water, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before returning to the display in front of him. You couldn't help but notice the way his biceps bulged as he lifted the bottle to his mouth.

“I don't wanna keep you from your workout, but it was nice seeing you, Andrei.” you said, your racing from more than just the cardio. You stepped off the treadmill, your legs feeling like jelly as you headed for the locker room.

“Hold up,” Andrei called after you, his voice filled with a gentle urgency. He quickly followed you, his eyes searching yours. “This is kind of random, but would you be down to grab lunch or something sometime?” His question hung in the air, charged with an undercurrent of hope.

“I’d like that,” you said, a genuine smile playing on your lips. You felt a sudden warmth spread through your body, and you hoped the fluster in your voice wasn’t too obvious. Andrei’s eyes lit up, and he immediately offered to exchange numbers. You swapped phones and tapped in the digits with fingers that trembled slightly from the excitement of the moment.

The next few days, the two of you texted back and forth, coordinating your schedules. It was a delicate dance, considering your busy lives, but somehow, it worked. You found yourselves with a mutually free afternoon and decided to meet at a quiet spot, a hole-in-the-wall burger joint that had been recommended to Andrei by some of his teammates.

At first, you didn't recognize the address or the name of the burger joint. But as you pulled up to the nondescript building, the heavenly scent of sizzling meat and the sound of laughter spilling out from inside sent your memory hurtling back to nearly a year ago.

You had come here with Joe once.

Joe was a waxing and waning fixture in your life, coming and going with the tides of the football season. The two of you had first met when Joe was drafted by the Bengals, and you quickly recognized the pull of his charismatic orbit. His charm and easy confidence had drawn you in, and your friendship grew into a passionate, secretive not-quite-relationship that had always been tinged with the bittersweet frustration of knowing it couldn’t last.

The league was unforgiving, and Joe had been clear about his priorities - football, family, and his foundation - none of which included space for you. But as the months went on, you found yourself hoping that maybe he would get his head out of his ass. As if he would suddenly wake up and realize that he did have a little space for you in his very short list of priorities.

But there wasn't space. Joe Burrow was a creature of habit, and football was his first love. He'd told you that himself, more than once. The season had taken precedence over your somewhat casual arrangement, and by the time summer rolled around, it had all but fizzled out like the last whispers of a forgotten promise.

Now, as you sat across from Andrei, the smell of greasy burgers and fries swirling around you two, you felt a pang of guilt. You would have had to be blind to miss the way Andrei's brown eyes lit up when he talked about his day and listened eagerly to your lame office stories. He was so earnest, so present, in a way Joe was incapable of being - not that it was the quarterback's intentional doing.

The two of you talked about everything from your families to your favorite movies, and it was easy, comfortable. Andrei had a way of making you feel heard that you hadn't felt with Joe. He wasn't distracted by the shadow of football, his mind wasn't a million miles away on the field. He was right here with you, in this moment. And when he reached out to steal a fry from your plate with a dimple you hadn't noticed before, you felt a jolt of something you hadn't felt in a long time—true, uncomplicated happiness.

“Yo, earth to Andrei! You okay, man?” Tee Higgins’ teasing voice cut through the air as the team gathered around their lockers post-workout. Andrei had been lost in his thoughts, his eyes glazed over as he replayed the events of the past few days texting with you.

Andrei snapped out of his daze, his cheeks flushed with a mix of exertion and embarrassment. “Yeah, my bad, guys. Just had a good session out there.” The lie rolled off his tongue, but the smirks from his teammates told him they weren’t fooled.

“Oh, I bet you had a good session, alright,” Charlie said, waggling his eyebrows. Their side of the locker room erupted into laughter, and even Andrei couldn’t resist a chuckle despite the roll of his eyes.

“Leave him alone, he’s just got a crush is all,” Chase Brown chimed in, slapping Andrei on the shoulder.

Andrei felt the weight of his words and his cheeks grew even warmer. He knew he was being obvious, but he couldn’t help it. You had consumed his every thought since your first real conversation at the gym. The way you had looked at him, the way your laugh had filled the quiet moments between your words, it was intoxicating. He hadn’t felt this way about someone since high school.

“She's older too, ain't she? Like by two years?” Tee said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Andrei nodded, his face growing hotter by the second.

“Yeah, but that's not a big deal, right?” he managed to get out.

Chase laughed. “Who? Jess' friend? That's cool, she's a catch for sure. But why’re you blushing so hard, man?”

Andrei shrugged it off, trying to keep his cool. “It's nothing. Just met up with her a few days ago, you know how it is.”

“Oh, he's gone,” Charlie exclaimed, grinning as he slapped Andrei's back. “You got it bad, dude.”

“Shut up, man. It's not like that,” Andrei protested, his voice betraying the excitement he felt.

Joe kept his head down, focusing on his own locker, pretending not to hear the jokes at Andrei's expense. But the mention of your name sent a jolt through him. He knew he had no claim on you, he had made that clear when he chose football over you time and time again - he was aware. But the thought of you with Andrei was like a knife twisting in his gut. He felt a strange mix of jealousy and protectiveness, a storm of emotions that left a dark, uncomfortable weight on his chest.

As Joe made his way to the parking lot, he was flanked by Ja'Marr and Sam on either side as they talked about their evening plans. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the unspoken tension. “Has Jess mentioned anything about...?” he ventured, keeping his voice casual, not completing his thought hoping Sam would catch the unspoken name.

Sam shot him a knowing look, eyes narrowed, lips curled into a smirk. “Do you two get off on playing this weird hot and cold game?” He asked Joe, a disbelieving chuckle bubbling from his chest.

Joe’s face remained impassive. “What are you talking about?” He played dumb, hoping his friends hadn’t noticed the jealousy bubbling beneath the surface.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I haven't heard anything about her seeing anyone, but why don't you just text and ask her? Or better yet, just tell her you fucked up and want her back? I know she hasn’t blocked you yet, Jess reminds me of that every time you two come up in a conversation.”

Joe scoffed, trying to play it cool. “It's not like that. I just want to know she’s good. It’s been a while since I’ve seen or heard anything. That's all.” But the way his heart hammered in his chest, his blue eyes defensively wide told the defensive end it was a lie.

“If you say so,” Ja’Marr spoke up, his voice filled with an unmistakable hint of amusement. “But if I was her, I wouldn't take your ass back.”

Joe shot him a look that could've frozen water. “Thank you for your input, Ja’Marr,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing.

Sam laughed again. “Look, I'm sure she has nothing to hide. If she was seeing someone, she’d tell Jess. And since she hasn’t, then maybe it’s not that serious yet. Just apologize, I’m sure she’ll hear you out.”

Joe nodded, trying to convince himself that it was true. But the gnawing feeling in his gut told him otherwise. He knew he had to see you, to find out for himself what was going on. He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else, not when he hadn’t even had the urge to officially end things.

After arriving home, Joe found himself pressing your contact name, then the FaceTime button, his heart racing. When you picked up, he could see the surprise in your eyes. You looked beautiful, the soft glow of your bedside lamp highlighting the warm tones of your skin. Your curly hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and you had that look on your face, the one that told him that if he played his cards right, you’d fall right into his lap, just like you used to.

“Hey?” you said, a hint of wariness in your voice.

Joe took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. “What's up?”

Your eyes searched his for a moment, reading the tension in his voice. “Not much, just sitting at home. What’s up with you?” you asked, playing along.

“I was wondering if you’re busy tonight,” Joe said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Thought I could come over, catch up.”

You leaned back into the cushion behind your head, raising an eyebrow. You knew Joe’s moves better than anyone else. At times, you thought you knew him better than he knew himself. “Why? You miss me?”

Joe’s eyes held yours, the intensity in them unmistakable. “Yeah, I did. And I wanna see you. If that’s okay?”

You felt a mix of excitement and annoyance. Why was Joe suddenly interested again? You knew he couldn’t just turn it on and off like that - not matter how much he liked to pretend he was unbothered by the gray area of your situationship. But the temptation was too strong. You missed your connection, the way he made you feel.

“Okay, come over then,” you said with a sigh, unable to completely hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

Joe arrived at your apartment later that evening, and the moment he stepped inside, it was as if you had never stopped seeing each other. He took in the familiar scent of your perfume and the sight of you curled up on the couch. He couldn’t help but feel like he was home. The two of you talked about nothing and everything, the conversation flowing easily like it used to. He told you about the team's new plays and strategies, and you updated him on work and Jess' wedding planning.

But there was an undercurrent of tension, something more than just your unresolved history. Andrei's name hovered in the air, unspoken but present. As the night grew later, Joe's eyes searched yours, looking for answers he knew you wouldn’t just volunteer to give him.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” he finally asked, his voice casual, the rush of blood to his face anything but.

You felt a jolt of nerves. You should’ve known this was coming. “No, I’m not seeing anyone,” you replied, your voice steady despite the guilt of such a lie creeping in. “Not officially, or anything.”

Joe’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the muscles in his jaw tense. He knew you well enough to read between the lines. He knew you were lying to him. “But there’s someone you’re interested in?” he pushed.

You nodded, looking away from him. You felt the guilt press harder on your chest. “Yeah, I guess. It’s new, and I’m trying to figure it out. Figure him out.”

Joe leaned in, his hand falling over the back of the couch as if attempting to surround you without actually touching you. “Is it serious?”

His voice was a mix of curiosity and something else, something that made the guilt in your stomach coil tighter. He had a way of suffocating you, of making you feel like you were drowning in his mere presence, and you hadn’t realized how much you missed that feeling.

You took a deep breath. “No, it’s not serious. Not yet, anyway. We’re just...seeing where it goes.”

Joe nodded, his eyes focused intensely on yours. The silence between the two of you grew heavier, charged with unspoken words and desires. Finally, he leaned in closer, deciding he was tired of playing cold and now wanted the hot.

“Can I kiss you?” Blue eyes bore into yours, plump pink lips parted before his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew what giving in to him would lead to, but you couldn’t resist. You nodded, and Joe’s mouth was on yours before you had the chance to reconsider. The kiss was familiar and yet somehow new, filled with the same passion you had always shared, but with an urgency that hadn’t been there before. It was as if he was trying to claim you, to remind you of what they had before you were swept up in someone else's tide.

As Joe’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, you felt the weight of the decision you needed to make. Andrei’s sweetness versus Joe’s intensity. The comfort of the known versus the excitement of the unknown. Your thoughts spun like a tornado, threatening to consume you. But for tonight, you decided to let it go, to lose yourself in the feeling of Joe’s hands on your body.

You moaned against his mouth, giving in to the moment. And with that one sound, the two of you were back to where you had left off months ago, your bodies tangling together in a dance as old as time. You stumbled towards the bedroom, hands fumbling with clothes and buttons, eager to reacquaint yourselves with each other's skin.

“Joe,” you whispered breathlessly as your bodies collided in a fiery embrace, the passion igniting like dry grass in a summer field. He kissed you like he owned you, and for a moment, you let yourself believe he did. Your bodies moved in a symphony of desire, every touch a silent declaration of his intent.

“What do you want from me, Joe?” you managed to ask between gasps, your body responding to his touch despite the turmoil in your mind.

“I don’t know what I want,” Joe murmured against your skin, his voice ragged with need. “But I know I can’t stay away from you, no matter how much I try.”

Your head tilted to the side as Joe's lips attached themselves to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made your body tremble. The room was spinning with the weight of his body on top of yours, you felt like you were drowning in his touch. It was all too much, too familiar, too overwhelming.

Joe let out a breathy chuckle against your neck, drawing a confused furrow of your brows in response. Your eyes cracked open in question, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours. “Isn’t this my shirt? You kept it?”

You felt a heat creep up your neck, the fabric of Joe’s shirt you had borrowed one night months ago clinging to your body. It had become embedded in your rotation of casual wear that you had completely forgotten it didn’t truly belong to you. “It’s comfortable,” you murmured, your voice thick with shy lust.

Joe's eyes searched yours, a hint of possessiveness flickering in their depths. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me,” he said, his voice gruff as he pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you in only a pair of panties. The air in the room grew thick with anticipation, your eyes locked as you both knew what was coming next.

With a fierce passion that seemed to have been building for months, Joe's hands explored every inch of your body, relearning the curves and planes he had once known so well. His touch was rough, almost desperate, as if trying to erase any memory of anyone else that had been there since him. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to be lost in it, to be consumed by the fire that was him.

He set you back against the sheets of your bed, eyes hungry as they trailed over every inch of your exposed skin. He settled over you, his frame broad as it obstructed your ability to think - or see - anything but him. His hands slid down your body, caressing your waist, your hips, before slipping into the band of your panties. He tugged them off, tossing them aside with a primal growl that made your stomach flutter.

“Unreal,” Joe hummed under his breath, his eyes roving over your bare form, his fingertips tracing the outline of your thighs, your belly, the swell of your breasts. The word seemed to hang in the air, a declaration of his desire, a claim of ownership.

You felt a shiver of anticipation, your body responding to his touch despite the chaos in your mind. You leaned up, your hands finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest, his muscles flexing in the dim light. Your eyes met again, a silent challenge, a silent question, a silent promise of what was to come.

With a low sound, his hands slid down to your thighs, urging them apart as he settled between your legs. The heat of his skin against yours was almost too much to bear, and you found yourself arching up to meet him, your nails digging into his back as he kissed your neck, your collarbone, and your breasts. His mouth was everywhere, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, and you could feel yourself spiraling out of control. The pads of his fingers traced circles on your inner thighs, moving higher, closer to the center of your need, until you were writhing beneath him.

“Joe, please,” you begged, the words slipping out unbidden. He chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that was almost predatory. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and it was a power trip he didn’t even bother hiding.

“Gimme me a minute,” he hummed darkly. His thumb grazed your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body, making your back arch off the bed. “I want to make sure you don’t forget who this pussy knows best,” he whispered, his voice thick with arousal.

Your eyes widened, and you bit your lower lip to stifle a gasp. The possessiveness in his tone was something new, something you had never heard from him before. It was raw, primal, and it sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t ignore.

Joe’s fingers teased and prodded with a firm pressure that had your hips moving instinctively. He watched your face, his eyes hooded and intense, as if memorizing every reaction. His free hand slid up your torso to the sides of your neck, giving it a trying squeeze that made you moan. The sound was music to his ears, and his mouth found yours again, his tongue demanding entry as his hand continued its merciless torment.

The sensations were overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but respond to his dominance. Your legs fell open wider, giving him full access, begging for more. And Joe delivered, his fingers slipping into your wetness, his eyes never leaving yours. He watched your face contort with pleasure, his own expression a mix of satisfaction and hunger.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Always so wet, so ready. I love that about you.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he worked you over, his thumb pressing down on your clit as his fingers curled inside you. You could feel your orgasm approaching, a storm cloud gathering on the horizon, ready to break at any moment. You didn’t know if you could handle it, didn’t know if you wanted to handle it.

His hand moved faster, his grip on your neck tightening slightly as he watched you writhe and unravel beneath him. Your breaths grew shorter, your moans louder, until you were practically sobbing for release. And when it came, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. It burst through you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Your body spasmed around his hand as you rode out the wave, Joe’s eyes never leaving your face, his thumb pressing down harder on your clit as he watched you come apart.

When the tremors finally subsided, you lay there, panting and boneless, staring up at the ceiling. The room was spinning, and you could feel Joe’s weight on top of you, his cock pressing against your thigh. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, as if trying to claim your mouth the same way he had claimed your body. And for a moment, you let him, savoring the taste of him, the feel of his hardness against you, the scent of his sweat and cologne.

“On your stomach, pretty girl, just like that,” Joe ordered, his voice gruff with need.

You mindlessly complied, rolling onto your stomach with a shiver. The coolness of the sheets against your overheated skin was a stark contrast to the heat of Joe’s touch. You felt his hand glide over your back, tracing the line of your spine before it trailed back down, his thumb rubbing tight circles into the base of your spine as he distracted you from the anticipation as he pulled a condom on. Then, without warning, his hand connected with your ass in a firm slap that made you yelp and jolt forward. You looked over your shoulder at him, eyes wide and questioning.

“Want you to remember me every time you sit down tomorrow,” Joe said with a smirk, his eyes ablaze with possessiveness. He grabbed a pillow and placed it under your hips, shifting your ass a bit higher. You could feel his cock, hot and heavy, pressing against you. The head of it slid against your wetness, teasing you, making your pussy clench with want. He didn’t waste any more time, pushing into you in one swift movement that made you gasp, your head falling forward into the sheets.

You felt filled to the brim with Joe, his size stretching you in a way that was both unavoidable and incredibly satisfying. You could feel him everywhere, his grip on your hips tightening as he started to move. He was relentless, his thrusts deep and demanding, setting a pace that had you panting and moaning into the sheets beneath you. You knew your thighs were going to be sore in the morning, but you didn’t care. This was what you had been craving, this was what you had been missing.

“You feel so good, baby,” Joe murmured against your ear, his teeth grazing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his breath hot and ragged against your neck, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. It was needed, it was carnally satisfying, and it was everything you had been trying to ignore.

Your eyes squeezed shut, and you bit down on a stray pillow to muffle your moans. You didn’t want to admit it, but Joe had a way of making you feel like no one else ever could. It was infuriating and intoxicating all at once. Your hands clawed at the sheets, trying to find purchase, as Joe’s rhythm grew more intense. You could feel your orgasm building again, a slow burn that was starting at your toes and working its way up.

“Fuck, Joe,” you murmured, your voice muffled by the fabric. He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body.

“Just how you like it, huh?” he said, his voice a low rumble in your ear. You whimpered, unable to form words as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

Your eyes squeezed shut, the sensation of him inside you was overwhelming. Each thrust was like a declaration of his claim, each slap of skin on skin echoing through the room. He was everywhere, his heat enveloping you, his scent infiltrating your senses. It was too much and not enough all at the same time.

“Mm, that’s right,” Joe encouraged, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched the way you responded to his touch. “You need more from me, don’t you?”

You choked out a strained 'yes', the words trapped in your throat by the intensity of your building climax. You felt him shift behind you, his cock sliding out of you briefly before he turned you onto your back. He hovered over you, his eyes burning with desire. His hand found your chin, tilting your head back as he kissed you again, his tongue plunging deep.

With a powerful surge, he thrust back inside you, filling you completely. Your nails raked down his back, your legs wrapping around his waist as you tried to hold on to the last shreds of your sanity. The sensation was exquisite, his length stroking you in ways that only he seemed to know how to. You could feel your body responding to him, your inner walls tightening around him as he picked up the pace.

“Love being inside you, always have,” Joe murmured, his eyes locked onto yours as he pushed deeper, his hips moving in a rhythm that had you both racing towards the edge. Your breathing grew more ragged, your breasts heaving with each thrust. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Fuckin' made for me.”

Your eyes fluttered shut again, the words playing on repeat in your head, echoing through your body with every stroke. You knew you shouldn’t let his words affect you, but they did. They hit you in a place you thought you had closed off to him through the distance. A place that was still raw and tender, despite the time apart.

“Missed your pretty voice whispering my name. Can you say it again for me?” Joe rasped, his teeth grazing your neck.

“Joe,” you breathed, your voice shaky and needy. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and you felt his cock swell at the sound.

“Say you missed me,” Joe urged, his eyes searching yours as he continued to drive into you. His movements grew more urgent, each thrust more forceful than the last.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. His eyes flared with triumph and need, his strokes becoming more powerful. He slammed into you, pushing you further into the sheets, with such a fervor that made the headboard thump against the wall with every thrust.

“Fuck, yes,” Joe groaned, his voice strained as he pushed into you. The sound of the headboard colliding with the wall grew louder, punctuating the air with a steady rhythm that matched his own. “Missed you too, more than you know,” he murmured against your skin.

Your eyes squeezed shut, the confession sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. You wrapped your legs around him tighter, your heels digging into his ass as you encouraged him to go harder, faster. The feeling of his cock hitting just the right spot inside you was divine, and you knew you were close.

“I'm sorry,” Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck as he kissed his way across your throat. “I'm sorry I've been an asshole. Did I hurt you?” He didn’t stop moving, his thrusts still deep and demanding.

Your eyes flew open, and you stared up at the ceiling, your heart racing. The tenderness in his voice was unexpected, and it hit you like a punch to the gut. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond verbally or physically, too ashamed to admit the truth out loud. But Joe read you like a book, his gaze searching your expression for confirmation.

“I know I did,” he said, his voice low and remorseful. He slowed his pace, his strokes becoming more deliberate as if trying to convey his regret through every touch. “But I’m not gonna let you go again, baby. I promise you that. You’re mine, and I’ll make it up to you, every single fucking day if I have to.”

Your heart swelled at his words, even though a part of you knew you shouldn’t let them affect you. But here you were, lying beneath him, your body singing with pleasure, and you couldn’t help but believe him.

“Okay.” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze as your lips pouted in thought.

Joe’s expression softened, and he leaned down to kiss you, his hips stilling for a brief moment. When he pulled back, he said, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Just hold on for me, okay?”

The look in his eyes was earnest, and for a moment, all the tension between the two of you dissipated. You whispered your approval, your hands moving to his face, your thumbs tracing the sharp line of his jaw. You could feel his muscles tense as he took a deep breath, then his hips began to move again, slow and steady, as if he were savoring every inch of you. His eyes remained fixed on yours as he pushed into you, each stroke sending a new wave of pleasure crashing over you.

Your walls tightened around him, your body responding to his gentle dominance. His hands roamed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He kissed you with a tenderness that was at odds with the roughness of your fucking, his tongue dancing with yours, tasting every corner of your mouth. It was as if he was trying to claim you all over again, to erase every memory you had of anyone else.

And for a moment, you let yourself believe there was no one else.

Joe’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your stomach flip. His movements grew more calculated, his hips snapping against yours as he drove deeper. You could feel yourself climbing, your body coiling tightly around him, ready to shatter.

“Look at me, baby,” Joe murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I need to see your eyes when you come for me. I need to know it’s all for me.”

Your eyes opened, meeting Joe’s intense gaze. His eyes were like blue flames, burning into your soul. You could feel the pressure building within you, your orgasm threatening to break free. Your moans and whines were strangled as they escaped your throat, your breaths coming in quick pants as you tried to hold on.

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “Good girl. Let go for me. Take what you need from me, baby. Wanna hear you scream my name when you do it. Give it to me. Give it all to me.”

The words were like a trigger, setting you off into an explosion of sensation. You moaned his name, your body convulsing around him as you shattered into a million pieces. Your nails dug into his skin, your legs tightening around his waist as the most intense orgasm of your life ripped through you. It was as if every nerve ending in your body was on fire, each spark igniting a new wave of pleasure.

His own climax followed closely, his hips jerking as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning out his release as it spilled into the condom preventing his proximity from truly reaching you. Joe's weight pressed you into the mattress, his breathing heavy in your ear. You remained connected for a few moments, your hearts pounding in sync. Slowly, he pulled out, rolling to the side and disposing of the condom before pulling you into his arms.

Your mind raced as you lay there, your body still trembling. You felt Joe's thumb stroking your cheek, wiping away a stream of tears you hadn't even realized had fallen. He kissed the bridge of your nose, his touch gentle and soothing.

“I've got you,” he whispered, pulling you closer. “I'm not going anywhere.”

You curled into him, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. Joe’s arms around you felt like home, and you didn’t want to leave that behind.

You sighed, deflating against him with no energy to question his intentions or the future. For now, all that mattered was the warmth of his embrace. The comforting beat of his heart against your ear lulled you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in months. The two of you lay there in the afterglow of passion, your breaths slowly syncing as you held each other tightly.

Your head continued to spin over the next few days, the intensity of that night with Joe replaying in your mind like a highlight reel you couldn’t turn off. Each time you saw Andrei at the gym or exchanged texts, you felt that dreadful pang of guilt. The sweetness of his smile and the genuine concern in his eyes made you feel like the worst kind of person for indulging him when you couldn't get Joe off your mind.

“I'm the worst,” you groaned to Jess one evening, a week after Joe’s unexpected visit. You were lounging in Jess and Sam’s living room, a bottle of wine between the two of you.

Jess looked at you, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. “What do you mean, babe?”

You took a deep breath and recounted the evening with Joe, leaving out the explicit details but sharing enough to paint the picture. Jess’ eyes grew wider with every word, until finally, she spoke.

“Yikes. You might be in deeper than you think,” Jess said, her voice a mix of shock and amusement. She took a sip of her wine, her eyes fluttering over to Sam as he took a seat next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. “Babe, did you know about this?”

Sam looked at you, his expression begging you to play along. “Know what?”

You rolled your eyes with a huff, “Samuel, please. Did Joe say anything to you?”

Sam’s eyes darted to his fiancee whose eyebrow arched in challenge before he cleared his throat. “No actually. I told him to talk to you about the Andrei stuff, but he didn’t say anything happened.” He took a sip of his sports drink, the in-season replacement for his usual beer. “He's actually been pretty tight-lipped about everything, to be honest. Did you guys ever talk it out like I told him to?”

You sighed, playing with the stem of your wine glass. “Sort of. He said some stuff that... I don’t know. It just messed with my head. He said he missed me and that he’s not letting me go again. And when we were together... it was like nothing had changed.”

Jess’s eyes searched yours, understanding dawning as she frowned. “In a good way? Or in a...”

“In a way that seriously makes me question my self-respect,” you replied, your voice laced with frustration and self-pity. You took a long sip of your wine. “And now I’ve got Andrei, who’s so sweet and caring, but he’s also... I don’t know. He’s just different.”

Jess leaned in, her expression earnest. “Look, I know Joe’s got that... that pull, you know? And it’s easy to get swept up in it. But you can’t ignore what you have with Andrei either. Maybe you should take a step back from both of them and figure out what you really want.”

You nodded, knowing Jess was right. But the thought of cutting ties with either of them made your stomach twist. You enjoyed the excitement of Joe, the comfort of familiarity, but there was something about Andrei's gentle persistence that was equally intoxicating. You took a deep breath, setting your wine glass aside.

“I know you’re right,” you said, rubbing your temples. “But it’s so complicated. I don’t want to lead Andrei on or hurt him.”

“What about Joe?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. “I know you guys were never officially together, but do you care about potentially hurting him?”

Your gaze drifted to the floor. “Honestly? I don't. Not in the same way. With Joe, it's complicated. He's complicated. I don't even know if he'd ever truly let himself be hurt by me.”

Sam and Jess exchanged a look, the gravity of the situation settling over them. “Maybe you should just talk to them,” Sam suggested, his voice gentle. “You owe them that much, at least.”

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. You knew he was right. It was only fair to be honest with both Joe and Andrei about your feelings. But the thought of that conversation, of potentially losing one or both of them, was worrying.

Andrei felt like he was slowly going insane, his eyes scanning every line of your last text to him over two weeks ago. He had tried calling, but you always seemed to be busy or your phone went straight to voicemail. With the Bengals' season reaching its peak, he had been thrown into a whirlwind of games and practices, leaving him little time to dwell on his feelings. But now, with the team entering their Bye Week, he had nothing to distract him from the hold you had on his thoughts.

On the second day off, unable to stand it any longer, Andrei found himself at your gym again. He hoped to catch you, to talk things through, to understand what was happening. When he saw you, you looked stunning in a sage green workout set that hugged your curves in all the right ways. He approached, his heart racing, his mind a whirlwind of questions and fears.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice calling out softly through the sparsely populated gym. You looked up, your eyes briefly widening before you schooled your expression into something more neutral. He could tell you were surprised to see him, but there was something else there, something that looked suspiciously like anxiety.

You stood from your spot on the floor where you were stretching, casually reaching for your water bottle. “Hey, Andrei,” you greeted him coolly, your eyes avoiding his.

Andrei’s stomach twisted, his mind racing with a thousand things to say. He took a step closer, his eyes searching your features for any sign of your connection. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, glancing around the gym before nodding. The two of you found a quiet spot in the corner, the clinking of exercise equipment the only soundtrack to your conversation. He watched as you took a sip of water, your eyes desperately trying to find something to focus on other than him. It was clear you were avoiding eye contact, and his heart sank.

“Look, I’m sorry if I misunderstood things and freaked you out,” Andrei began, his voice tentative. “I just... I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I don’t get why you’re avoiding me.”

Your eyes finally met his, and he was taken aback by the sadness in them. You sighed, setting your water bottle down. You began to clear your throat to speak but paused, your hand picking at a piece of lint dusting your top. Andrei felt his heart racing, unsure of what you were about to say.

“If you don’t want to see me anymore, just tell me,” Andrei said, his voice thick with emotion. “But don’t ghost me. That’s not who I thought you were.”

You could only look at him, your chest tightening at his words. The truth was, you didn’t know what you wanted. Your mind was a whirlwind of Joe’s gravity and Andrei’s sweetness. You took a deep breath, your eyes never leaving his. “It’s not that, Andrei. There was a situation that came up and... I just need some space to figure things out. It’s nothing you did, I promise.”

He searched your face, looking for any hint of what you were referring to, but you offered nothing more. Andrei nodded slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing with an unspoken question. “That’s all I’m asking for. Just tell me if you need some time. I’ll wait, I just... I can’t ignore the way I feel about you. And if you don’t feel the same, then I need to know that.”

Your eyes softened, your heart torn in two. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Andrei, I feel the same. I really do.”

He searched your eyes for any hint of a lie, finding none. The relief visibly washed over him. “So, what’s the deal, then? Why the distance?”

You took a deep breath, your mind racing with the events of the past few weeks. You had been avoiding Joe's calls too, the fear of what you might admit in the heat of the moment too strong to risk. The guilt was eating at you. “It’s complicated. I have some personal things to figure out. And I don’t want to lead you on, Andrei.”

Andrei nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Okay. I can give you space. But, when you’re ready, can we talk again? Maybe go on an actual date?”

You felt a rush of warmth from the earnestness in his voice.

“Sure,” you said, your voice soft. Andrei's smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds. All he wanted to do was give in to the hope that filled him at your words, to press his lips to yours and show you just how far gone he was. But he knew you needed space. So, with a nod, he stepped back.

“I’ll give you some time. But just know that I’m not going anywhere, okay?” His words were firm, a declaration that resonated in the quiet corner of the gym.

You nodded. Your throat was tight with the effort of holding back your true turmoil. “Okay,” you whispered.

Andrei’s eyes searched yours, as if trying to read the story behind your guarded expression. He smiled slowly, a mix of hope and pain etched into the lines of his face. “Cool, just text me when you’re up for it. We can keep it casual, no pressure.” His hands buried in his pockets as he took a step back, giving you the space he promised.

You felt a pang of longing as you watched him walk away, his broad shoulders slightly slumped. The reality of your situation was like a heavy weight pressing down on you, and you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. You needed to talk to Joe, to understand why he had come back into your life so suddenly and what he wanted. But the thought of facing him, of admitting to your feelings and the mess you had created, was terrifying.

Days turned into nights and the week stretched on. Your thoughts consumed you, a tumultuous storm of emotions. You went through the motions of your daily routines, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment with both Joe and Andrei. The intensity of your feelings for Joe was undeniable, but the tenderness Andrei offered was something you hadn’t experienced before.

So with a deep breath, you reached for your phone and typed out a message to Andrei. “Hey, I’m free tomorrow. If you’re still down, maybe we can grab brunch?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you hit send, the gravity of your decision setting in. Andrei’s response was almost instant, his excitement palpable even through the screen as he offered a time and a location for your date.

The next morning, as you sat across the table from him at a cozy bistro, the scent of pastries and fruity drinks mingling in the air, you felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and the kind of comfort that comes from unguarded openness. But there was a new tension between the two of you, a known thread of desire that hadn’t been there before.

You found yourself leaning in closer to him, drawn to his gentle smile and the way his soft giggles crinkled the corners of his eyes. When he walked you to the door of your apartment, you held on to a half hope that he would kiss you. But when he just gave you a warm, lingering hug before pulling back to look into your eyes, you realized that maybe this was exactly what you needed. A break from the intensity that Joe brought. A chance to explore something new, something that was patiently waiting for you to catch up instead of dragging you along for the ride.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving you in the quiet embrace of your apartment. The scent of Andrei’s cologne lingered on your clothes, a sweet reminder of the date that couldn’t have gone any better. You took a deep breath and leaned against the door, your heart pounding.

Andrei hadn’t stopped smiling since he hugged you close that morning. His cheeks constantly flushed, and his eyes gleamed whenever he thought of you. He felt like he was floating, his every step lighter, his spirits soaring. He had been waiting for this moment since he first met you, the chance to show you that he was more than just a younger teammate of your best friend’s fiance. He wanted to show you the man he was and the love he had to offer.

The other guys immediately picked up on the change in Andrei's mood, his energy at practice the first day back from the Bye unmistakably lighter. Tee and Charlie exchanged knowing glances, and Chase was the first to speak up. “You keep smiling like that, you might be able to start catching with your mouth.”

Andrei chuckled, shaking his head as he took his place for the next drill. He hadn't realized he had been smiling so much, but he couldn't help it. The date with you had been like a breath of fresh air, and he was eager to see you again. You hadn’t stopped texting since that day, lightly flirting and setting up another date. He was trying to keep things casual, trying to moderate his excitement, but it was hard when he felt like he was finally making progress.

On the other side of the field, Joe noticed Andrei’s change in demeanor, his own mood plummeting. You had shown no interest in seeing him again, and the realization that you might have moved on with someone else—someone on his own team—was a bitter pill to swallow. He threw himself into practice, pushing his body to the limit to distract himself from the ache in his chest. But every time he looked over, Andrei’s smile was like a knife twisting in the wound.

“I’m down bad, bro,” Andrei chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he watched Tee and Ja’Marr laugh at the honesty of his admission. “I haven’t even kissed her yet and she’s all I can think about.”

“You haven’t kissed her?” Tee’s eyebrows shot up, incredulous.

Andrei shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I want to, but I don’t want to rush it. I’ll do it when it feels right.”

Tee nodded, understanding. “Just don’t wait too long, man. Girls like that, they don’t come around often. You gotta let her know what’s up before someone else does.”

“Speakin’ of, I’m surprised Joe was cool with you two hanging out,” Ja’Marr said casually, rolling his shoulders as the words spilled out casually.

Andrei's eyes snapped over to him, his smile fading. “Joe? What do you mean?”

Ja’Marr looked up, catching the shift in Andrei's expression. “You didn’t know?” He paused, realizing he might have just stepped into a minefield of unspoken locker room drama. “My bad, bro. Never mind.”

But it was too late. Tee stepped forward, shaking his head at Ja’Marr’s retraction. “Nah, finish what you were saying. Andrei deserves to know what’s goin’ on.”

Ja’Marr took a deep breath. “Okay, so, they had a thing a while ago. No labels or nothing, but it was definitely more exclusive than just hooking up. They decided to cool it off because Joe was focused on rehabbing his wrist, and she didn’t like feeling like a distraction. But they do this weird hot and cold shit every now and then, it’s toxic as fuck, honestly. But that’s just how they like it, I guess. Sam swears they soulmates but I don’t know about all that.”

“Damn,” Tee breathed out, his eyes wide as saucers as the information sank in. Andrei's heart dropped to his stomach, the revelation hitting him like a sledgehammer. The world around him grew quiet, the laughter and shouts from the other players fading into the background. He stared at the football in his hand, his mind racing.

“What the fuck, man?” He looked up at Ja’Marr, his voice low and tight. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Ja’Marr held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, we all knew you had a thing for her, but it’s not my place to stir shit up where there might not be anything. Besides, Joe never talks about what they got going on, you know how he is. You and Joe are cool, and she’s not his girlfriend. You do you, you know?”

But Andrei didn’t know. He had thought he had a shot with you, that the connection was real and genuine. But now, knowing that Joe had been in the picture before - and possibly still lurking in the background - the doubt began to creep in. He couldn’t help but feel like he was just the rebound, the second choice. The easygoing charm that usually filled him was gone, replaced by a storm of confusion and anger.

After practice, Andrei went straight to his locker, avoiding Joe’s gaze as he packed up his gear. His mind was racing, trying to piece together what this meant for him. He shot off a text to you, asking to meet up at your place. He needed to hear it from you, to understand the depth of what had happened between you and Joe.

When he arrived, there was a storm in Andrei's eyes that you had never seen before. You felt a sinking feeling in your gut, knowing that something was wrong. He stepped into your apartment, and you could see the tension coiled in his stiff shoulders. He didn’t bother with pleasantries, his question coming out in a rush. “Did you and Joe have something going on before me?”

Your heart stopped. You hadn’t expected this. You took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “We did. But it’s over. It’s been over for a while.”

Andrei’s eyes searched yours, looking for a lie, for any reason to believe you were just playing games. “Then why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was tight, each word forced through gritted teeth.

You felt the walls closing in on you, the guilt of your omission weighing heavily on your chest. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Andrei. It was a complicated situation, and I didn’t know what to say without messing things up between us. I care about you, and I didn’t want us figuring things out to be tainted by me explaining my past with Joe.”

“I don’t care if you hurt me,” Andrei said, his voice filled with intensity. “I care about being with you, about us. How could you think keeping that from me would be better than letting me decide for myself?” His gaze was unwavering, and you knew he wasn’t going to let this go without a fight.

You looked away, your eyes stinging. You knew you messed up, but you didn’t know how to fix it. “I’m sorry, I just—”

Andrei’s hand on your cheek made you stop. He turned your face back to his, his eyes searching yours. “Don’t apologize. Just tell me if there’s still something between you two. Because if there is, I can’t do this. I can’t compete with him.”

Your heart clenched at the raw honesty in his voice. You took a deep breath and met his gaze. “No, there’s nothing going on. I want to move on.”

Andrei studied your face, the tension in his body slowly uncoiling as he saw the sincerity in your eyes. He took a step closer, his thumb brushing over the stress lines marring your face. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Okay.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the air between you charged with a tension that had shifted from anger to something more complex. Andrei leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was a declaration of intent, a promise that he wouldn’t back down. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, and you felt yourself melting into it, your hands curling around his shoulders as if you were holding on for dear life.

When you finally broke apart, panting, Andrei searched your eyes again.

“Fuck it.”

He didn’t need to say more. With a newfound sense of urgency, he scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, your kisses growing more frantic with each step. The weight of your confessions and the unspoken tension between you had transformed into a fiery passion that could no longer be contained.

In the dim room, you undressed each other slowly, as if savoring every moment. Your hands explored familiar yet new territories, the heat of your bodies melding together as if you were two puzzle pieces that had finally found their rightful place. The intimacy was intense, a blend of attraction and lust that neither of you had ever experienced together before.

“Are you sure?” Andrei’s voice was a gentle rumble against your skin as he paused, his hand hovering over the clasp of your bra. You nodded, the anticipation in your eyes unmistakable.

The rest of your clothes fell away, and you were left in nothing but the glow of the streetlights filtering through the blackout shades. Andrei took his time, exploring your body with a reverence that made your heart swell. Each touch was deliberate, each kiss a silent promise that he would be different from Joe, that he would treat you as more than an option.

Andrei’s hips moved in a steady rhythm, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he was afraid that if he blinked, you would vanish forever.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, I don’t want you to slip away from me again,” Andrei whispered against your ear, his breath hot and heavy as your bodies moved together. “Gonna make sure you don’t forget me, no matter what happens with him.”

Your eyes searched his, a mix of want and fear. You nodded, your voice a breathy whisper as your eyes rolled back with a flutter of pleasure. He was so deep, so gentle, so deliciously slow as he pushed into you, making you feel like the most precious thing in the world. Your calves resting against his shoulders, legs parted, giving him full access, and he took it with a groan of pleasure that made your toes curl.

Andrei’s eyes never left yours, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face in the throes of passion. It was raw and beautiful, and it made your heart ache in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could feel yourself letting go, giving in to the moment.

“I’m all yours,” you murmured, your voice thick with need. Andrei’s response was to kiss you again, hard and demanding, as if he was sealing your fate with every touch of your tongues. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, a testament to your connection.

His hips began to pick up their pace, propping himself up on one elbow, his other hand roaming your body, leaving trails of fire wherever it went. Your chest heaved, your breath hitching as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. You were falling, and you hoped you might never get back up again.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as he reached between you, his thumb circling your clit with a precision that made your back arch off the bed. Andrei’s eyes were intense, watching your reaction with a hunger that only fueled your own. The room was a cocoon of desire, the air thick with the scent of your arousal and the sound of your ragged breaths.

“Good girl, takin’ my cock like this,” Andrei groaned, his teeth clenched as he fought to hold back. He knew he had to give you what you needed, what he knew you deserved. He could feel the tension building in your body, the way you tightened around him with every stroke. He leaned in closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, his words hot and fast. “You’re so perfect, baby, so fucking perfect.”

“More, please, I need more,” you moaned, your voice shaking. He could feel the desperation in your words, the need for release, and he was more than happy to oblige. His hand found your neck, his thumb gently caressing your pulse point as he picked up his pace, his hips slamming into you with a force that was both gentle and fierce.

“Come for me, baby, come all over my cock,” Andrei urged, his voice low and demanding. And as if on cue, your body obeyed, the tension snapping as you shuddered beneath him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. He watched as you came undone, the sight of your pleasure etching itself into his soul. He couldn’t hold out much longer, the feel of you tightening around him pushing him over the edge.

With a moan of his own, he came, his release hot and powerful as he filled you. He collapsed next to you, his tanned chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. You blinked slowly, biting back a smile as you felt him shiver against you, his milky white spend slowly leaking out of you.

You turned onto your side, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as a hand came down to brush through Andrei's dark hair, your eyes shining with a newfound fondness for the man beside you. He pulled you closer, your limbs tangled together like vines, and you felt a warmth spread through you and couldn't help the giggle that escaped. Your giggles spurred Andrei on, unable to suppress his own chuckle as you two erupted into laughter at the absurdity of your situation.

The room grew quiet, the only sound was your mingled breathing and the occasional creak of the bed. Andrei’s thumb traced patterns on your bare shoulder, his eyes studying your profile in the soft light. “I meant what I said,” he murmured, his voice serious despite the playfulness of moments before. “I want to be the only one for you. I can handle whatever shit comes up with Joe. I just need you to be honest with me.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a knot in your stomach. The weight of your decision settled on your shoulders like a heavy blanket. “I will,” you said finally, tilting your head up to catch his eye. “I promise.” He responded with a soft, lingering kiss on your swollen lips.

Eventually, Andrei’s grip loosened, and he rolled away from you, smiling as you whined at the sudden loss of his warmth. “I need to use the bathroom. Need me to get something to clean you up?”

“Please,” you replied with a tired smile, watching him stride across the room naked. The confidence in his step was something you hadn’t seen from him before - not off the football field at least - and it made your stomach flutter. He closed the door behind him, humming softly to himself. You settled into the sheets, releasing a sigh of contentment.

But like clockwork, it didn’t last long. It never lasted long.

Your phone lit up on the nightstand, catching your attention with the notification of a new text. You rolled over, reaching for it lazily and your eyes widened as you saw Joe’s contact name on the screen. The message was deviously simple, as it always was. Your heart beat out of your chest as you read it to yourself.

Are you free tomorrow? We should do something. Miss seeing you.

[ceilidho]

sneak peek of "fig. 1. hand in dog mouth"

“Fuckin’ gym isnae giei’ me a free month even though ah have tae drive tae practically the other side o’ the country tae get a decent pump in.”

“Mate, I can’t understand you when you get all worked up,” Gaz sighs on the other end of the phone, probably pinching the bridge of his nose. A lot of their conversations end up that way, one of them quickly losing patience with the other until the call abruptly ends.

Johnny drops his gym bag in the back and slams the car door shut, rounding to the other side to get in on the driver’s side. 

“Ah said, they aren’y refunding me fer the month even though the other location is on the other side o’ town. That’s a half hour back ‘n forth,” he gripes. The call switches to bluetooth a couple seconds after starting the car, Gaz’s exasperated voice coming from the speaker instead of his cell. 

“Don’t you already get a discount?”

“That’s jus’ fer bein’ a vet. This is completely different. It’s gonna be closed fer a month fer renovations. Ah cannae do this fer a whole month.”

“Hey, I know where you live. Aren’t there other gyms around that you could go to instead?”

“Are ye out o’ yer fuckin’ mind, Gaz? Ah’m no’ payin’ ten quid fer a fuckin’ day pass when ah already pay out the nose fer a membership.” 

“No need to get mad at me, mate, I’m just giving you suggestions.” 

“Well, keep them tae yerself if they’re all that bad.”

“Okay, this has been a great chat. I hope you blow a tire on the way there and try calling me for help so I can ignore it.”

The call ends with a loud beep and Johnny barks out a laugh as he reverses out of his spot, looping out of the lot and onto the main road.

He takes the highway because most of the slush and snow has long been cleaned off, though his wipers pump back and forth furiously to keep the snow flurries from sticking to the windshield. That already sets the tone for his evening. He nearly gets in an accident twice on the way there, everyone losing their ability to drive the second the weather is even slightly bad. 

He should just be lucky his gym even has another branch. They could’ve left him high and dry for the month, forced him to go to one the other gyms in his neighborhood that don’t offer the same range of weights and veteran’s discount. 

Worse, he could’ve been left with no choice but to use Gaz’s guest pass to his exorbitantly overpriced luxury gym downtown. Even the thought makes Johnny shudder. It could always be worse.

It’s so much more than just the drive that he hates about the other location. Like the first time he came here months ago when an appointment on the other side of town made him think it would be more convenient to pop in rather than heading back home for his workout, the parking lot is packed when he arrives, and he has to circle the lot twice before a spot frees up. 

The gym is similarly packed when Johnny walks in, and his mood darkens as he scans the weight section for a free bench. None in sight. Just meathead after meathead lining the far wall, huffing and puffing with each rep, dumbbells scattered around. 

Headphones slipped on and music loud enough to make his ears ring, he heads to the treadmills instead. Better to just start his workout like usual and hope for the best. 

The air stinks of sweat and hormones, alpha pheromones wafting through the gym and leaving not a corner untouched. It’s one of the reasons he prefers the location closer to his place—convenience aside, his location is mainly frequented by betas and omegas, the odd alpha not having much of an impact on the overall vibe. 

It’s not that he doesn’t have plenty of alpha friends (Gaz being just one of them), it’s just that sometimes he likes being the biggest, meanest thing in the room. Keeps him in line. Keeps him from being the stupid shit he is ninety-nine percent of the time, as Gaz would say. He likes to be the only one posturing. 

So he doesn’t relish being forced to work out with a million carbon copies of himself. It’s nothing Johnny isn’t used to at least—a decade in the military and a lifetime of contact sport before that had been enough of an education in coexisting with other alphas—but it leaves him on edge, muscles bunching up until his shoulders are nearly up to his ears. 

Running loosens him up. Distracts him from the urge to sink his teeth into something tender and shake until it bleeds. 

A brisk walk to a light jog to a full on sprint. Tongue suctioned to the roof of his mouth, sharpened canines throbbing. The most natural state in the world—legs pumping under him faster and faster, the faint memory of bare feet on a cold forest floor turning over loose soil with every stride. The steady pound of his feet against the ground rumbling through him.

It’s a pale imitation of the real deal, but the taste of salt and rust on the back of his tongue keep him grounded. The beast in his chest rumbles its approval. 

When a bench finally frees up, Johnny has to dash across the gym when he sees another alpha nearby eyeing his spot. He reaches the bench a few seconds before the other man though, slinging his sweat-drenched towel across the seat to claim it as his. The alpha hovers for a tense second, face screwed up in anger and nostrils flared like he might put up a fight for it. 

Do it, Johnny almost growls, teeth itching. Try it and see what happens.

Lucky for both of them that the other alpha knows when to cut his losses. He shoulder checks another alpha as he stomps back to the leg press machine and nearly starts a whole other fight, but that’s none of Johnny’s business. 

He cringes when he finally looks down at the bench only to find someone’s back outlined in sweat. Entitled shitheads at this gym can’t even be bothered to clean up after themselves. 

The noxious miasma of alpha stench would make his eyes water if he weren’t so used to it. Pungent and sharp, like gargling brine. 

A month can’t go by quick enough.

He leaves feeling worse than when he came in. Shoulders tight with tension and irritation crackling through him. Doesn’t even bother throwing a halfhearted see you later to the front desk workers on his way out. The height of rudeness. Not even rude so much as just not him; Johnny likes to talk, he likes to be friendly with the staff. It speaks to the anger riding high in his blood that he can’t even pretend. 

To make it worse, his car is covered in snow when he makes it back, forcing him to spend an extra five minutes cleaning the shit off before he can finally leave. 

It’s untenable. He can mind his ego for a paycheck, but on his own time his patience curls up into a ball in his chest and goes to sleep. It’s not a question of if he’ll lose his temper but when. Inevitable. His pugnacity has always been his downfall; his Achilles’ heel. Always cutting himself down on a sharp tooth.

The rosary beads dangling from the rearview window sway with the car when he takes a tight turn. 

“Ah ken,” Johnny mumbles to himself, silver cross glinting under the stoplight. “Ah can do a month. Ah can keep it together.”