#and it was because i quit my usual gym exercise routines | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

occamstfs · 8 months ago

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Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew:

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #twinkification #jockification #straight to gay

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nicka-nell · 4 months ago

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How they act when they have a crush on you

Pairing: Kita x, Osamu x, Tsukishima x, Akaashi x, Semi x reader

Warning: fluff, mdni

Part 1 | Part 2 (end)

The man, who is always quite serious and shows little emotion on the outside, subtly softens.

Kita maintains his direct manner and is no different towards you than he is towards his friends at first. That’s why nobody noticed that he had feelings for you. It even took him a long time to realize it. But gradually he starts to open up a little and shows you unexpected kindness.

His usually serious look is a little softer towards you from time to time. Nothing that would be noticeable to someone who only sees him occasionally, but his teammates notice this subtle change in his facial features when he talks to you.

Nevertheless, he remains direct, sometimes not realizing whether his words are perhaps a little too direct, but he never means any harm.

“Osamu, Atsumu, before you continue arguing here, take off your street shoes. We’re in the sports hall and you have to wear clean shoes. You should know that by now.” Kita says with a serious expression as he stands next to the entrance door and looks at the twins. They flinch at his voice and quickly slip out of their shoes. Just a few seconds later, your voice echoes through the gym as you gasp and look in Suna’s direction. “Suna, you left your notebook in the classroom,” you say, waving it around in the air as you take another step into the gym. Atsumu and Osamu already look at you with a grimace, shaking their heads as if to tell you not to take another step into the hall, but you don’t see them because Kita stands in front of you and takes the exercise book from you. “Thank you for bringing this over. I’ll give the notebook to Suna. You can’t come in here with street shoes. The floor could get scratched by the dirt underneath them.” Kita’s voice is still serious, but it has a gentle undertone and Atsumu feels like he must have hit his head, because it almost looks like Kita is smiling at you. You sigh as you walk out of the school building and see that the sky is darker. It has started to rain. Somewhat awkwardly, you take off your jacket and hold it over your head, hoping not to get wet. However, the fabric of your jacket is so thin that it won’t work anyway. Yet a large shadow looms over you as the rain stops beating down on your jacket. Confused, you look up and see an umbrella before looking to the side and spotting Kita next to you. He looks up at the sky, down at you before he starts to move. “Rain was forecast for today. You should check your weather app or the news more often. Or... you could always carry one of those umbrellas in your bag. They’re not heavy and it’s better to have an umbrella with you to be on the safe side than to get sick. Don’t you agree?” He lectures you. But he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. He’s actually just trying to make you understand that he doesn’t want you to catch a cold. “Come on, don’t stay out in the rain. Your apartment is on my way home. I can drop you off at home.”

Because you don’t realize that Kita has feelings for you, it’s Kita himself who confesses his feelings to you at some point.

Although his confession wasn’t particularly romantic or private.

Suna had asked after training if you had anything to hold against Kita because he behaves differently towards you. Much softer. You didn’t quite understand the question, just like Kita, who turns to Suna and simply says, “That’s because I have feelings for her that are on a different level than those I have for normal friends.”

Osamu differs from his brother. Unlike him, he is a quiet observer at first, and a denier to others. Whenever his friends try to tease him, he says that he has no feelings for a girl. (Acting like little boys who think that girls are disgusting and if you touch them, you get sick.)

But he knows your daily routine. Knows exactly where to find you so he can “accidentally” bump into you. Shares his lunch with you during your break, or goes to the sports hall with you and gossips a bit about his brother.

But when he’s alone with you, he always tries to stay calm, giving you little crumbs of his feelings towards you, hoping you’ll get the signals.

“So, ya didn’t have time to pack yer lunch again today, or do ya like the canteen food here so much?” asks Osamu, who sits down with Suna at the table where you are eating with a few friends. You look up at him, move a little to the side on the bench and make room for him to sit next to you. “The food is... okay,” you say, less convincingly as you look at Osamu’s bento box. At the delicious little nigiri, the egg roll and the chopped vegetables. Almost indifferently, Osamu pushes the bento box in your direction and takes a piece of the egg roll. “I’m not that hungry... if ya wanna, ya can eat with me,” he says, watching you smile sheepishly. ‘Yes,’ he thinks, but then you shake your head. “I can’t snatch your food. You have your training today. You need strength!” you answer him as Suna seizes the opportunity and holds out his chopsticks to grab something from Osamu’s bento box. But Osamu pushes his hand away. “Hands off, that’s my food,” he mumbles quietly so that only Suna can hear him, who raises his eyebrow. You walk with Osamu to the gym, his pace slower as he matches your speed. You are alone, his hands are casually clasped behind his head, his gaze directed forward. “Man, Tsumu drank my shake again today and then he denied it even though the shake was sticking to the corner of his mouth. Idiot.” Osamu curses. His words make you laugh. Osamu always grumbles so much about his brother, but you can tell that they have a strong bond. A typical love-hate relationship that you have with siblings. “Oh, come on, it would be boring without him, wouldn’t it?” you reply, amused. “Boring? It would be nice to have a boring day at home for once. But ya know, it would be even nicer if I just had a different roommate. I bet it would be much more relaxed and cooler to share a room with ya.” he tries to say as calmly as possible, but notices how his heartbeat suddenly speeds up. “Osamu!” you giggle, playfully slapping him on the shoulder before his tension disappears, and he chuckles at you for a split second.

His confession also seems rather calm, even though he is probably extremely nervous inside.

He uses an opportunity where you are both alone, where you are in a good mood and you are having a joking conversation, when he asks you “Would ya rather date my dumb brother or me?”.

Somewhat surprised by the question, you answer just as casually, “You, of course, you dummy”, not realizing that the question wasn’t meant as a joke.

“So, am I to assume we’re dating now?” he grins, watching you stare at him like a fool.

Oh, he is definitely a tease. You could call him Tease-ishima.

But he doesn’t do it in quite such a childish way by throwing paper balls at the back of your head. He makes light-hearted jokes or playful jabs or hides compliments with teasing comments.

Sometimes he tries to tease you to the point where you get into little playful arguments with him where he enjoys the back-and-forth between your exchanges.

However, he also doesn’t realize that he might overstep or hurt you with his comments. If he notices this, he doesn’t try to apologize, but calmly asks why you are still so upset, although inwardly he hopes that you don’t take his remarks too much to heart.

“Oh, are you trying to impress someone with that dress you’re wearing today? Who would have thought that would suit you?” says Tsukishima asked as he arrogantly tilts his head to the side and grins at you. “Imagine, I didn’t put this on to please you, but thank you, I know I look good myself...” you reply sassy and raise an eyebrow. Tsukishima purses his lips, almost as if he’s pouting, and clicks his tongue. “Whatever. I have to go now anyway. Unlike you, I have better things to do with my time than just standing in the school hallway for minutes,” he says, walking past you. A little hurt by Tsukishima’s stupid comment about your new hairstyle, you sit on a half-height stone wall in the schoolyard and wait for your friends to come out of the building so you can go home. “Hey weakling, are you still offended about earlier?” asks Tsukishima, coming out of the front door of the school, his hands in his pockets. He stands next to you indifferently, glancing at you briefly before staring ahead into the distance. “You just don’t realize it when you offend people. Sometimes people don’t need your stupid remarks,” you reply, swinging your legs back and forth. You try not to look at him. “You always take everything too seriously too quickly,” says Tsukishima indifferently, but then he struggles with his words. As if he doesn’t know how to continue. Almost uncomfortably, he takes his hand out of his trouser pocket and scratches the back of his neck. “A shaved head would suit you too. Usually nothing disfigures good-looking people.” But before you can even process what he’s just said, Yamaguchi arrives and Tsukishima raises his hand in farewell with a neutral “See you around then.”

Tsukishima is stubborn. Would he tell you that he’s in love with you? He’d probably wait until you said it.

However, it could also happen that the key words just slip out in a brief argument with you. “Like what? I’m just being myself. Have you ever thought about the fact that there are people who express their affection in such a way?” he hisses before he even notices what he said to you. “Nevermind. It’s not that important,” he adds quickly, but it’s probably too late to back out now.

Akaashi is a silent listener and subtle helper.

He wouldn’t tease you, but he wouldn’t behave particularly differently towards you either. Even more so, he wouldn’t try to impress you. He would just be himself.

He listens to you when you talk and is one of the few who maintains long eye contact and really focuses on the conversation. If he notices that you are having difficulties with something, he tries to help you. Whether it’s when you’re studying for a subject or because you can’t reach the items on the top shelf.

Last week you were complaining to Bokuto that you have an exam this week and that you’re a bit scared. Although you’ve studied a lot and memorized the topic well, you’re still nervous because it’s an important exam. You’re sitting nervously on the bench during the break, going over the material for the exam bit by bit, when a small drinking packet suddenly blocks your view of your exercise book. You look up, a little puzzled, and see Akaashi holding the drinking packet in front of your nose while looking at you with a thin smile. “You shouldn’t look at your notebook now. Otherwise you’ll have a blackout during the exam. Have a drink and try to relax. You’ll be fine,” says Akaashi objectively, who overheard the conversation you had with Bokuto last week. Today at volleyball training, the coach of the boys’ team wants the boys to play a 3-on-3 game and asks you to get the colored coats for the boys to wear over their jerseys so that you can clearly see who is on which team. In the storeroom, you look for the box with the yellow and green overcoats when you see that it is at the top of the shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, you try to reach it in vain. Pouting, you press your hands to your hips before placing one foot on the wobbly shelf, jumping up and touching the box with your fingertips. But you lose your balance as your back crashes against Akaashi’s chest, his arm wraps around your waist to catch you. “Careful. You should have asked for help. You could have hurt yourself,” he says in a neutral tone before reaching for the box and taking it down to hand it over. “Next time, please inform me. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Especially not because of such a small thing that could easily have been avoided,” he adds, making sure the box is firmly in your hands before leaving the room with you.

Although Akaashi often says what he thinks, he is still a rather quiet person. Since his focus is currently on his graduation, he doesn’t think about telling you about his feelings. Quite apart from that, he assumes that you don’t have feelings for him anyway.

However, his feelings came out by accident when Bokuto introduced you as Akaashi’s girlfriend during a training match. It was only a joke, but Akaashi’s ears turned red and, uncharacteristically for him, he was suddenly very embarrassed.

After the training match, you went outside to Akaashi, who wanted to cool off, and asked him directly about his feelings.

Semi may seem stern and distant to many, but that’s only the first impression. He’s actually a really nice guy, at least to his friends. He’s also nice to you.

He’s a real social butterfly who indirectly tries to get close to you by talking to your friends, getting along with them, and going to the same parties you go to.

He recently spent an hour talking to your friend, who he doesn’t even like very much. But you sat next to him for the entire hour, nudged him slightly when he made one or two comments. But it was worth putting up with your friend’s talking because he could be near you for the time.

He often tries to involve you in activities where he can get closer to you.

You’re chatting with your friends about the party that’s taking place at the weekend when you hear Semi’s voice behind you and a short time later, his elbow lightly nudges your arm. “Hi guys, are you planning something cool?” he asks the people he’s made friends with. The girl holding the party nods sheepishly and immediately asks if Semi wants to come as well. He puts on a charming smile before looking at you and shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. “You’re coming too, aren’t you? We could go together,” he says and waits for your answer, which you give him with a sly nod. At the party, he talks to lots of people, but always stays close to you, gets you drinks and asks you if you want to dance with him casually. On the dance floor, he doesn’t even give anyone the chance to dance with you as he swings you from left to right, pulls you towards him and enjoys being close to you. He finds it all the better that you seem to enjoy it. As the winter tournament is coming up soon, the Shiratorizawa volleyball team is currently training a lot. Since you get along well with many of the boys, you are also there to support them by bringing them water or towels when they need them. The coach doesn’t mind your presence as long as you don’t disturb the active training. He doesn’t care what happens during the breaks. The boys currently have a ten-minute break when Semi waves you over. “You said the other day that you think the serve is amazing. Do you want to try it? I’ll help you,” he smiles and hands you the volleyball and gets behind you to show you how to position yourself and how to move your hands. “Am I doing this right?” you ask, turning to Semi, who is standing quite close behind you. “Yes, it looks good. But take your hand a little further up. The ball should be above your hips,” Semi says in a soft tone as his one hand stays on your hip, the other moves to your hand that holds the ball before lifting it slightly. “There, that’s better.” His words echo smoothly in your ears. A physical contact that is actually harmless, but makes his heart beat a little faster. It’s just a shame that ten minutes are over so quickly.

Semi wants to be one hundred percent sure that you feel the same way about him as he does about you. That’s why he wouldn’t immediately overwhelm you with his feelings.

At least that’s what he thought.

Once, when you were struggling with your words after training, just to tell him that your friend had asked if you could give her Semi’s number, he had looked at you in total frustration and clicked his tongue. “Ehh? Do you really think I’m doing all this, the hanging out with your friends, the parties, the closeness to you, because I want something from your friend? Hell, I listened to her talk about the pigment in lipsticks for an hour because you were next to me and I wanted to be close to you. Not her…”

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x #osamu x reader #kita x reader #tsukishima x reader #akaashi x reader #semi x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #osamu miya x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #semi eita x reader

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sugawhaaa · 12 days ago

Text

SAN X READER

⚝₊ ⊹˚Scented feelings⚝₊ ⊹˚

Warnings:: mentions of SA and harassment, suggestive at the end

Genre:: friends to lovers

Pairing:: gym bro!San x fem!reader

A/N:: I've been cooking this up for a long time so I am PRAYINNN to the gods above this does well 🙏

San was a somewhat new friend but the two of you clicked like magic and nothing was too embarrassing to admit between the two of you. You met at the gym when you first started working out frequently and he gave you some tips. One thing led to another and now you work out together multiple times a week. He's always so encouraging, helpful and understanding.

If you explain to him that you're having kind of a rough day or not feeling well he won't try to push you like he normally does and he will respect the fact you want to keep it chill. All in all he is the best gym bro you could've asked for.

Today you came in a bit earlier than usual and started warming up with your regular stretches and light weight exercise to get your blood moving. As you did that you noticed two guys looking at you quite frequently and occasionally talking to each other. You chose to ignore them and listen to some music until San arrived. It wasn't too long after that you noticed San come in through the door with his bag and massive water bottle in hand. He smiled when he locked eyes with you and came over to you.

“You got here early today,” San smiles as he looks down slightly to meet your height.

“Yeah my schedule was clear and I just felt like coming by early,” you shrug and San nods. The two of you then get to work, following your usual routine. However you noticed the men from earlier were getting bolder and were much less obvious than before. You sigh softly as you go back to lifting some weights and Sans brows furrow. He hadn't noticed the men yet so he decided to ask what had been bothering you.

“You seem…frustrated?” San says as he comes closer to you, talking softer than usual.

“Yeah it's just those guys over there. They've been looking at me since I got here,” you tilt your head over to where the men were standing and talking. Sans brows furrow again as he looks at them.

“Want me to talk to them?” He offers but you shake your head.

“Nah I don't want to make a scene,” you set the weights down again and stretch out your arms above your head. San watches you carefully as you stretch before looking back at the men. He seemed to be more conscious of them than you were.

“I'm gonna go talk to them,” he said as he started to storm over to them. You put your hand over his chest.

“Don't, they're not worth it. Let's just keep going,” you smile at him and he sighs.

“Alright, but if they keep annoying you I'll talk to them. Formally,” he smiles innocently, too innocently. You continued working out and ignored the men and they seemed to stop staring at you…finally. However once you finished your workout San gave you a fist bump and I little sit hug while patting your shoulder. “You did good today,” he smiles, his eyes momentarily invisible, and you headed over to the girls change room. Upon approaching the door you were interrupted by the two guys from earlier. One blocked the door, it wasn't very deliberate but it was obvious, while the other stood more to the side talking to you.

“Could I get your number?” He asked straight up and you blush, not because you felt butterflies in your tummy like he probably thought, but more because you were so confused and embarrassed.

“Oh I uhm,” you shake your head and chuckle awkwardly. “I'm not interested,” you smile, still wanting to he polite because what if they really did have good intentions? It was doubtful but still. When you refused the man's face contorted with anger and what was this other emotion you could see in his eyes? You couldn't put your finger on it before he started getting mad.

“Oh come on just give me a chance baby,” he started getting closer to you and your body froze up. You weren't quite sure what to do in this situation; the man was much bigger and taller than you and you didn't want to cause a scene but you needed to find a way to get out of this situation.

“What's going on here?” San steps up next to you and puts an arm around you, smiling warmly to the man.

“Just friendly conversation, you know what I mean,” the man chuckled and San arched a brow at him, not very amused by his excuse.

“I see, well me and my girlfriend have some plans for the rest of the day so we'll be off then,” San pats your shoulder before kissing the top of your head. You felt your heart skip about a thousand beats.

The way his body pressed against yours, every inch of his muscles pressed against yours, including his arm muscles that were quite literally the size of your head and the kiss was so gentle and…sincere?

“Haha, have a good day you two,” The man chuckles awkwardly and backs up as the two of you turn to leave. San brings his hand down to your hand, interlocking your fingers, as he picks up your bags and leaves the gym. As you walked down the sidewalk you glanced back at the gym then at San.

“You can let go now,” you say as you look up at him, his cap hat shading in his eyes.

“We gotta sell the act or they may make a scene,” he leans down to whisper to you and your heart skips again. He was so close to you, so close to the point you could feel his body heat radiating onto you, and it got you excited. You thought you just thought San was you know a good looking guy, no romantic feelings, you just appreciate his beauty but after that insanity back there? The way he whispered to you made you freeze up to the point your jaw clenched to hold in all the things you were feeling.

San turned the corner, dragging your frozen presence along, and let go of your head. “They're way out of sight now, we're good to go,” he pats your back and you blush softly with a smile.

“Y-Yeah, we're good,”

“I'll take you back to my place so you can shower, in peace this time,” he laughs softly. “But in all seriousness I had to hold myself back from clocking those guys. No woman should have to deal with disrespect as much as they do these days,” he huffs as he crosses his arms, walking steadily with you. “Like God forbid a woman tries to get fit or take a shower,” he sighs while shaking his head, looking like a disappointed father. “Do you deal with that behavior often?”

“Uhm…not overly,” you shrug and he nods.

“If you ever find yourself in danger call me okay? I couldn't think of a better use for these muscles other than to clock a bastard bothering you,” he says as he pretends to box the air. You chuckle softly but nod.

“Thanks San, I'll call you,” a brief moment of silence fell upon the two of you when you realized you weren't sure where you were going, you were just following San's lead. “Where are we headed?” You ask as you trot along beside you.

“My place, so you can shower in peace,” he chuckles and you find yourself blushing. You had been at his house a few times before but showering in someone else's house feels like the next step in a friendship. When you get to his place you take your gym bag to the bathroom and San shows you how to use his shower just in case you didn't know. “This is temperature obviously and on the shower head there are four settings, the further you go to the right the higher the pressure goes and stuff,” he shows you before setting the showerhead back on its little perch. “You good?” He gives you a little thumbs up and you nod.

“Yes, thank you Sannie,” you smile and he blushes softly at the nickname.

“Sannie,” he repeats and laughs softly before leaving the bathroom. You sigh softly and begin to undress but just as you start San comes back in. “Sorry, here's a new towel and you can set your clothes on the counter here,” he hands you the towel and takes the old one off the rail. You thank him as he leaves you alone.

You undress and turn on the shower, making sure it's the right temperature before hopping in. You take your shower relatively quickly but as you water down your body you notice his body wash…he wouldn't mind you borrowing just a little bit right? Maybe? What's the worst he could do? Get mad at you for using it but meh he'll get over it. Unless he thinks you're a weirdo or creep for him. But that's way too far, he probably won't even notice unless he's sniffing you which would make him a creep and without thinking any further you grab the pale blue bottle and squirt a little bit of the soap into your hand, since there were no clothes nearby you had to result to just your hands which is fine, but as soon as you squirted out the soap Sans scent filled the room.

Whenever he'd spot you or help you get into good positions he'd get close enough to you that you could smell him and this is exactly what he smelt like…obviously. But it made your heart flutter. The scent was so indescribable. Coconut mixed with vanilla and maybe a hint of that fresh air smell. Oh, it was so good. You lathered the soap over yourself as you watched the suds bubble up before washing off of your body. Before you could even think you were smelling all of his soaps, like a fucking weirdo. But he'd never know so what's the harm? His shampoo was overwhelmingly strong. It had a very fruity smell, like a deep cherry or strawberry. He wouldn't mind if you borrowed it right? Either way you used just a little bit before getting out and drying yourself off.

The towel was nice and warm and very freshly scented. His laundry detergent was also very pleasantly scented, smelt like fresh air, and filled your head with images of clouds in a blue sky. You finished drying off and threw on your dry clothes before brushing down your damp hair. You put everything back the way you had found it and went to go find San.

You found him out in the living room on his couch and he turned to look at you. "Hey," he smiles as he looks you up and down very quickly. "Have a nice shower?" He asks to distract himself from your body.

"Very nice," you laugh softly before sitting next to him. When you sat down he got a whiff of his bodywash. He was surprised, the shock showing on his face for a split second, but he didn't mention it.

"So...are you gonna stick around or carry on with your schedule?" San asked very light-heartedly, he wouldn't be offended if you wanted to leave.

"I'll stay for a bit but I need to run some errands today," you say as you check your phone and San nods. The two of you hang out for a bit before you continue on with your day. That evening you get home and realize you left your bag at San's place. Your hairbrush, deodorant, pads, chapstick, and much more were in there. You decided to text him about it and he instantly found it in the bathroom.

You• would it be okay if I swing by after dinner to get it?

⛰️• ofc, I'll be here 👍

You• thank you 😭

After texting him you began to cook dinner before, of course, eating it. You then went down to San's apartment again and you couldn't help but feel excited to see him again. Even though it had only been a few hours you always craved to be near him...in a friendly way of course. When you came by he had your bag ready for you by the door and you wanted to ask if you could hang out for a bit but...you couldn't.

"I think everything's in there," San says as he hands it to you. You take the bag and smile, thanking him, but San could see you were thinking about something. "Y/N, you okay? You seem...distracted," he leans against the doorframe and you feel your heart stop at your face heating up.

"W-Well there was a complication with some of the pipes in my apartment and we were told to leave but I haven't found anywhere I can crash for the night," you make up a lie to stay at his place and he looks surprised.

"Oh well you can stay here for as long as you need. It gets lonely here by myself and my cat," he smiles, his dimples showing and you look at him surprised.

"You have a cat?" You chuckle softly and San laughs. He takes you into his apartment again and goes to his bedroom, encouraging you to follow. He then picks up a big long haired white cat.

"This is Muffin," he holds the cat up in his arms and encourages you to pet her. She's extremely fluffy and doesn't seem to mind being pet, she kinda just sits there. San also shows you his spare room. "There's not a lot here, not even a bed, so you might wanna sleep on the couch instead,"

"Thank you so much for letting me stay over," you smile at him, feeling a tinge of guilt but it was buried down by your excitement to spend the night with him. San shrugs.

"No problem, you hungry?" He pushes himself off the doorframe and walks out to the kitchen. You follow after him, Muffin following you as well, to the kitchen.

"Not overly, ate before getting here,"

"Right," San nods but makes you have a snack with him anyway. He sticks on a movie to entertain you but you end up talking to each other the whole time, the movie now out of question. The two of you got to talk on a deeper level than usual, things like relationship struggles and internal battles you've fought growing up. San always looked up at you so sincerely. His eyes were filled with sincerity and interest, he didn't just hear your words he listened to them, a trait many men fail to hinder. But something about his gaze so focused on you made you feel...excited. You felt like you were gonna flutter away at any given moment.

The two of you then go quiet, staring into each other's eyes, San then clears his throat. "Would you like a blanket?" He offers you a blanket and throws one on for himself. You snuggle up into the blankets and are overtaken with his scent again. You go back to watching the movie and then...you feel a sex scene approaching. Your body tenses as the girl on screen seduces the man and you chuckle softly but San remains focused on the show.

Eventually the two characters get down and dirty and you for some reason feel the need to turn away. Just a second ago you had so much to talk about but now...

"What a nice...ceiling you have," you chuckle and San laughs.

"If it's too tense for you we can skip this scene," San tilts his head at you but his words made your mind flicker for a moment. It was different from him saying "we can skip this scene" he said "if it's too tense," you thought of how to respond.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

"Why don't we just pause it?" You suggest and San nods with a little shrug before pausing the movie mid-moan. You turned your body to look at him and he did the same, slightly man-spreading as he lifted a leg on the couch and held his arms open on the head of the couch. That's when you noticed the tent in his pants. You were excited at the sight but disappointed in the fact you weren't the cause of his arousal.

"Do you...have a boyfriend?" He asks softly and you look at him shocked. "Or girlfriend," he chuckles, breaking the ice a little. "I don't judge," he confirms and you think for a moment.

"N-No, I'm single," you smile. "But you surely must have someone in your sights," you giggle and San smirks slightly, chuckling under his breath.

"You could say that," he tilts his head up before looking you up and down. "What about pets? Got any furry or scaly friends at home?" He smiles light heartedly.

"I do actually. I have a fish and a cat, kinda ironic isn't it?" You laugh softly and San smirks.

"So where are they staying tonight?"

You freeze at his words.

"W-What do you mean?" You laugh but you knew you weren't getting through to him. Your face starts to turn red as you realized you've been caught lying.

"Well you have to stay here tonight because your apartment is having "complications" right? So, where are your pets?"

"They're at my...they didn't have to..." you try to make an excuse but your mind goes blank as you become flustered. San then leans forward.

"I don't mind you staying the night but if you wanted to spend time with me you could've just asked baby,"

To be continued...

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #san ateez #san x reader #san smut #choi san #ateez of san

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hannieween · 9 months ago

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pushing and pulling | joshua hong

› pairings: joshua hong x female reader › genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) › aus: nba player joshua, playboy joshua, love affair › word count: 8k

this post is connected a nba joshua playboy request (you can find it in my page on the reqs tag)

› nsfw tags under the cut

› warnings: slight hurt/comfort, toxic vibes, reader is married, body worshipping, oral sex, pussy drunk shua, soft-dom joshua, oblivious pining, love making, unprotected p in v sex, lotus position, a bit of cockwarming, creampie, reader is on the pill, joshua is kind of a jerk but sweet in some way, pet names: baby (hers)

› big big thank you to @cvntrlseecvntrlvee who beta read this for me and helped me edit and with the more tricky aspects of joshua pouring his heart out to you ( > 〰 < )♡

› also thanks to @glowunderthemoon who brainstormed with me and recommended 100 ways by jackson for this chapter. i wanna kiss your genius brain

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

pushing and pulling

The elliptical beeped softly as Joshua forced it to a stop. He kept his breathing steady, but he couldn't ignore the impulsive need to wipe the sweat off his face.

He looked closely at his progress. Feeling content, he climbed down, wiped the machine and walked away to finally commence his general training.

The gym was particularly deserted. As expected from a Friday afternoon. Joshua had just finished warming up and moved to do some bench presses. It was his usual Friday routine, except he mostly went during the mornings.

But last night he couldn't sleep. And he didn't have any plans for the rest of the night, so, the gym it is.

He kept the music in his earphones at a high volume to drown out the music blasting from the gym's fancy sound system and the lonely goers who were working on the other weight machines.

Why do they have to let the weights drop that loud? So noisy.

He kept pushing the bar up and then slowly pressed it back down with a controlled motion, letting strained exhales escape his mouth. It was one of his favorite exercises to do. He was lying back on the bench, and staring at the ceiling, listening to music—he could reflect like this.

Until he sat back up on the bench, having finished his rep, and stood up to look for something to clean up the bench after him. That was when he caught sight of you, in the far distance of the gym. You were using a treadmill, looking straight at your reflection in the mirror up front.

Maybe you just got to the gym, he thought from the look of you. Your well-kept hair was braided, there was no sweat on your face from what he could see and well, he hadn't seen you until now.

Joshua kept doing his exercises as normal. But he couldn't shake off the tight knot that had parked in his stomach since he saw you there.

In fact, every time you crossed his mind he felt that way. And he thought of you constantly. He replayed over and over in his head the memory of the events that led you to the first time you kissed him.

It had been a rushed, heated kiss—but everything that happened before it took its time. At every chance, when you crossed paths, you'd sent him glances that, at first, obfuscated him a little.

Until one night, at a private event. After many suggestive looks exchanged between Joshua and you, in a perfect moment, your husband was out of the way and you got Joshua to follow you down a fire exit. One thing led to the other.

He didn't know you went to the same gym as him—though it could be something he expected since everyone on his team used it. It was quite the exclusive place.

He kept checking on you every now and then. It seemed that you were just running because half an hour passed and you hadn’t left your spot.

That's how he slowly gathered the little details about you, the bags under your eyes, the sad look on the features of your face.

So he kept to his regular training—working his lats, his triceps, biceps and then finishing with abs. Push and pull kinda day. It was supposed to be only pull but well, what gives.

Joshua moved from the last machine, cleaned it off, threw the towel away and walked towards the locker-rooms. Thinking of getting a shower, grabbing his stuff and heading home. Maybe drink a beer and hopefully, sleep.

"What are you doing here?"

Joshua removed his earphones. You had cornered him almost as if you had planned it, and possibly did. He looked over his shoulder as a precaution, the hall was empty.

"What are you doing here?" you repeated, your tone anxious and shifty eyes roaming all over him.

"Baking a cake," he responded nonchalantly.

"Tsk, fine," you scoffed and looked the other way.

Joshua paused and took consideration over what he saw in you, the stale, emotionless about you. Unusual. The features of your face looked torn, instead of the usual kindness he usually saw in them. He confirmed his suspicions that you weren’t sleeping well either when he saw the darkness under your eyes, and the paleness that stole the color from your lips.

Even with that dead look in your eye, Joshua was convinced that you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. Although all you and Joshua ever did was throw snarky comments at each other, sometimes while fucking, even then, he always thought you were sweet and cute.

"How about we start over?"

"What?"

"Hi?" Joshua joked. "How are you? No?"

"Josh," you sighed and took a hand to your forehead, where your fingers rubbed your frown tiredly. "Sorry, you know what, you're right. I'm being a little on edge."

Joshua couldn't blame you for that. In fact, he felt like he might be the only person in the world that would understand what you're going through.

He leaned in, his doe eyes reading you carefully. "Do you need to talk?" he asked, his voice devoid of all snarkiness. It was his usual tone, honeyed.

You raised your eyes at him, glinting in such a way that it only made the knot in his stomach twist harder. "Yeah, I–," you choked up. "I... uh..."

"Did you come here by car?" he promptly asked and he saw the spark in your eyes change. Excitement, fear, as if the answers you desired so greatly were all found in him, in that question.

"I walked," you frowned softly. "Why?"

Joshua dug on the inside of his sweats and pulled out the key to his car. "Black Audi A8," he instructed: "Wait for me inside. I'll take no more than 10 minutes."

You pocketed the key in your gym bag quickly. "What are you going to do?"

"Take a shower," he said and started to turn to walk down the hall. "See you there."

Joshua closed the door of his car, settling on the seat.

You handed him the key to his car. "Hi," you mumbled shamefully.

"That's better," he joked, taking the key and thrusting it into the ignition. He drove away from the underground parking lot. As soon as he was within the vicinity of his place and the silence had turned somewhat unpleasant, he sent you a glance. "It's been a while."

You had been keeping your head turned to the side. But you nodded, and you met his brief gaze. "Yeah I've... been busy."

Joshua kept his comments to himself from that point. His mind had started reeling instead. He parked on his spot and as soon as he turned the engine off, he opened the glove compartment, pulling out a cap.

"Here," he offered you the cap.

"Are you serious?" you asked, sending him a bewildered look.

"Listen, I'm not risking someone seeing you here with me and start asking questions," he emphasized those words, knowing what value they had to them.

Because he was the nation's favorite playboy. The one who’s got the eyes and heart of the media. The heartthrob. Ever since his career skyrocketed, this fame, this persona, it had been following him close by like a shadow.

Though all a lie, it seemingly had fooled you too.

"Fine," you said, taking the cap, which was his team's merch, putting it on with a huff. Then you mumbled with dry sarcasm: "How do I look?"

"Pretty, as always," he smirked and pushed the door to get out of his car.

You followed him inside the elevator, down a hall and into his apartment.

"I would've assumed we'd reach the penthouse," you quipped as soon as you were inside.

Joshua turned the first lamp in the corner of the living room. The curtains were drawn wide open, letting in the view of the skylight. He snickered as an attempt to deflect from the constant judgment of his character.

"Why is that?" he asked with a low tone and motioned you over with one of his large hands.

"I dunno," you mumbled and walked over to the fancy large couch. "May I?"

"Of course," he replied and went over to the open kitchen to open the cabinet, grabbing two short glasses. "Drink?"

"Sure, uh," you breathed out shakily. "I only assumed that you'd be like the rest of 'em, you know. Showy, living on the top of the highest building, throwing out money wherever you go."

"Pff," he scoffed, throwing some cubes of ice into each glass. "You've known me long enough to know that's not my style."

That comment seemed to rattle you a bit. You stilled in your seat and when Joshua offered you the glass of whisky, you stared at the ice cubes for a moment.

Joshua was your husband's best friend. You have been part of each other's lives for long enough to know that his lavish lifestyle was nothing compared to the one of your husband's.

But Joshua is nothing like your husband.

Jake, your husband, is the one that the media loves. He is the golden boy, team captain, the one with the most deals, money and fame. The guy who gets all the recognition for being such a good husband.

"Jake is cheating on me," you breathed, letting those words out for the first time since you found out. They hit you like a punch in the gut, and your eyes instantly brimmed with tears of shame, guilt and regret.

Joshua was still standing between the couch and the coffee table, right in front of you. So he sat down by your side, leaving his drink beside yours, not quite looking in your eye as he sighed.

"I know."

Of all the reactions you were expecting, all the scenarios you ran in your mind, you never thought that he would say that.

Because he was your secret.

"How long have you known?" you demanded with a strangled tone.

He turned his head to look at you now, your gazes met and he decided to take a large gulp of his whisky before replying: "Ever since he slept with the first girl."

"Then you've known for..."

"Does it matter?"

Your eyes stopped shifting from side to side, the frantic train of thoughts slowed down. "Yes," you said slowly. "How come you've never told me?"

"I was going to but," he exhaled softly. "You sought me out before I could."

"So you were fine with us fucking and never acknowledging it?" you were quick to put two and two but then, "Why?"

"I thought that was what you needed."

"Joshua..." you whispered. "Why? Are you okay with–, why would you never say something about it?"

"I'm okay with whatever you want me to be," he muttered, looking straight into your eyes now. "I knew you needed me, you didn't need to tell me why. I knew."

"So all this time, when you've taunted me about it, to tell him... was it all just for fun? To get yourself off, to make yourself feel better–"

"To play my part," he sighed and went for another gulp of whisky and when you didn't say anything, he elaborated: "Famous playboy. Isn't that the reason why you went to me?"

You looked away in shame. "You're also his best friend. I figured the more excitement you'd get the less I would have to explain," It was your turn to drink from your glass, which you did so slowly.

"Was."

Your stomach dropped. Something in you had worked that out already, but you needed to hear the confirmation from him.

"What?"

Joshua took the glass between his lips, pouring the gold liquid down his throat. "Soon as he started boasting about it. I went low contact," he paused, the glass still lingering in front of his mouth before adding with a hint of disdain: "The dumbass hasn't even realized that I don't want to talk to him."

He looked at you with caution, expecting to see you crying, showing some emotion. Instead, you were mindlessly staring at the ice cubes sitting at the bottom of the now empty whisky glass.

"How did you find out, anyway?" he risked asking, trying to keep your attention still. He felt like you slipping away in your thoughts was dangerous.

"He stopped paying attention to me completely, he even recoils from my touch," you mumbled and your lip quivered a little. "So I started suspecting."

A silence followed and as the seconds went on, Joshua started getting anxious.

You licked your lips, raising your eyes and finding his. "He keeps things from the girls he sleeps with inside a box," you rasped out dryly. "Lingerie, earrings, hair ties... I'm also sure he's taken them to the house."

"Jesus," he hissed, downing the rest of the liquid to discard the glass on the coffee table and rubbing his hands on his face, trying not to succumb to the overwhelming rage he was feeling. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not sure if he either wanted me to find it or he's too stupid to actually keep it well hidden," you sighed. "It's driving me crazy these days."

"Do you have a plan? Do you know what you'll do?" he asked, trying with all his might to derive his attention back to you.

"I have nothing," you whispered.

"Does he know you went out tonight?"

"Jake's not in town. He flew out to visit his family and friends," you rolled your eyes and scoffed.

Joshua didn't need proof to know that was a blatant lie. And it seemed that you knew it too.

You finally set back the empty glass on the coffee table and let out a tired sigh.

"Can I ask you something?" you muttered with a tiny voice.

Joshua knew what was coming. So he relaxed on the back of the couch, shifting one leg over the seat to sit facing your body. He even propped an elbow on the headrest of the couch to lean his head on his fist.

"Shoot," he mumbled.

"Why are you doing this?" you glanced at him shyly. "You said that you no longer speak to Jake, but you pressure me to tell him either way. Are you–," you choked up again, but now due to your nervousness you started blurting: "Why do this, why agree to have an affair with me?"

"At the beginning, I felt sorry for you," he said reluctantly, feeling ashamed of himself as he looked away briefly. "You looked lonely. And I knew why. So."

"That still doesn't answer my question," you whispered, trying to read his doe eyes under the soft glow of the lamps.

He leaned his head on one side, reading the expression on your face. Your features had relaxed, no longer containing the anxiousness from before.

"Is it not obvious?" he asked back and felt his own heart race slightly, he paused and decided to say: "I'm also lonely."

You made no inquiry about the alleged rumors, everything that the media says about the women who keep coming and going in his life. But he hoped that you would catch onto slowly that it was all an act created by the media to attract people in. And he was their puppet.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" he returned, blinking slowly at you, unable to look at anything else but your face.

"Shoot," you echoed with a shadow of a smile.

"Do you still love him?"

You held your breath and avoided his gaze again. "No," you blurted out, guilt washing over you. "I haven't for a while. Thought that much was evident, though."

"I needed to know," he replied, feeling a light rush of ecstasy run through him upon hearing your answer.

You smiled, but there was no happiness to that smile. It was sad, and had bitterness written all over it. Joshua had to understand then that you lost a good chunk of your life when your husband decided to sleep around recklessly.

But besides the empathy he felt for you, he was livid. He wasn't a man to endorse violence, but he couldn't deny the fact that he has had to contain himself several times before when your husband was boasting about his affairs.

"Hey," Joshua whispered, running the back of his index finger on your cheek. "I'm sorry you're going through this. I really am."

Your brow furrowed a little and your eyes widened, making you look a little lost. "Thank you, Joshua. I'm sorry this probably wasn't the way you wanted your Friday night to go."

"I had no plans for tonight," he explained, blinking slowly at you, an endearing look in his eyes.

"What would a regular night look like for you anyway?" you asked, leaning back on the couch, looking at him with curiosity.

"You're looking at it," he shrugged with ease and nodded. "Minus you being here, of course."

"Be serious," you scoffed at him.

"I am," he rolled his eyes with feigned annoyance. Joshua only kept his playboy image by flirting around. every once in a while, he would take a pretty model or actress to dinner.

You seemed to ponder for a second, without tearing your eyes from his face. "Well, you not being what the world says about you is definitely something I didn't expect," you confessed.

It was Joshua's turn to smile bitterly. "Yeah, who would've thought that the real playboy was the team captain, right?"

Your husband was the team captain. You immediately flinched a little with the realization that your husband's whole public image of being the perfect man was tainted not only by himself.

"Too soon?" Joshua mumbled shamefully.

"No, it's okay," you replied and cleared your throat.

But Joshua could see the gears in your brain turning. He couldn't blame you, he knew the feeling too well. It robbed him of sleep and held his peace of mind hostage every day.

"I'm sorry for pulling you into all of this," you told him. Your eyes were sincere, dimming with some regret just before you looked away.

"Don't be," he muttered softly, putting a hand on your knee to bring you some comfort. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't want any of it."

The features of your face relaxed at that and you met his eyes again. Your pretty hand slid on top of his in a gesture of gratitude. Then a thought crossed your mind—it seemed a little crazy that in all of this mess, you'd find a friend.

Even if the lines of that friendship had become blurry.

Joshua turned the palm of his hand over, so he was properly holding your hand now. You gave him a gentle squeeze, a warm feeling flooding in your chest and that made you sigh.

Then without thinking too much, he took the cap off your head, pushing some hairs off your face with his free hand. You didn't care how tender his touch felt, you welcomed it.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked with a low honeyed voice.

You shook your head silently, your hand was still in his so you just took the liberty to play with his pretty fingers, lacing them with yours.

"No one is waiting for me there," you muttered with a tiny voice and Joshua felt your words punch him in the chest. He felt overwhelmed by the urge to make you feel better, to take the pain from you.

So he just let it overpower him.

His hand came up to cradle your cheek, driving your gaze back to his again. What he wasn't expecting was you leaning your face against his touch, your free hand sliding on top of his and you closing your eyes.

He ran the pad of his thumb on your cheek, feeling your soft skin, then trailed to your lips, caressing them carefully until you opened your eyes again to find his.

You pressed your lips on the pad of his thumb. It wasn't a suggestive kiss, there was nothing in your eyes that meant that fiery need to which you had pulled him out the fire exit that first night he kissed you.

It was an affectionate kiss. But it only made him want more. He craved the softness, the tenderness, he needed you wholly.

So he took his shot, leaning in to rest his forehead on top of yours, the tip of his nose pushing against yours gently and he heard your breath hitch with a tiny moan as your lips brushed against his. He waited like this, waited for you to protest against this, to push him away.

But you gave in not a second later, pressing your soft lips against his own in a slow, tender kiss. You sobbed out some nervousness when you broke away, only to dive right in again with a deeper kiss, wet lips locking slowly, as if meeting each other again.

Joshua released your hand that was previously laced with his, using it to find your waist and pulled softly, motioning you closer. You understood what he meant without him having to break the kiss to say it.

So you sloppily moved your knees on the couch to sit on his lap, straddling him. Your hands cupped his face, now demanding a hungrier kiss from him, which he responded willingly with a low grunt that coiled in his throat.

The kiss suddenly came to a stop with a smacking sound. Heavy breathing filled his ears before he opened his eyes to see the light frown on your face, your eyes desperately reading his features.

"What are we doing, Joshua?" you asked. Your voice sounded shaky and breathless.

"Going with it," he replied, heart pounding against his chest.

"But, after this. Where are we going with all of this?" you demanded and he knew you needed to get ahead of this. You were hurt and probably weren't looking to be hurt again.

Joshua squeezed your arm gently. "Wherever you want it to," he replied sincerely, his doe eyes looking up at you.

"Josh," a question formed on your lips, but then you leaned in to meet his lips with your own.

"Mm?" he responded, the soft lines between his eyebrows seemed to mark a little.

"Just..." you shook your head slightly and swallowed hard, thinking of the warmth in his hands parked in the small of your back.

Joshua understood the restlessness, the danger that you were putting yourself in by being with him like this. He felt it too. But he also knew that you thought about him everyday, all the time. Just like he thought about you.

He blinked slowly at you, with a warmth and homeliness that swept through him. "What do you want?" he asked.

You paused, seemingly absorbed by the question for a second. It was the first time in a long time that someone asked you that—it had been a while since you took into consideration what you wanted, too.

When you started this, you thought that having an affair with Joshua was a form of revenge. To get back at your husband for betraying you. But it slowly became something you couldn't stop, you became greedy about it.

Now, you weren't sure if greed was the only thing that you felt.

"I want you," you whispered, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through your body upon confessing it. "I don't care how. I just know that I do. I think about you every day and it's driving me crazy."

Joshua's heart pounded frantically against his chest, his eyes reading your face, trying to gather every detail in your features. He knew it already, but hearing you say it sent him into a frenzy. Nothing else mattered anymore.

His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss, lips sealing yours with a passion he didn't know he had inside him. He blindly searched for the scrunchie that secured your braid and pulled it, freeing your hair with a groan.

You shuddered when his fingers sank in your hair, grazing your scalp, holding a fistful to keep you in place as he kissed you hungrily, his plump lips exploring yours.

It was the first time he kissed you like this, without the haste or the snark. There was no fear of getting caught, no need to rush anything.

"Stay the night with me," Joshua whispered into your lips, feeling his breath catch under a surge of emotions.

"Okay," you whispered back without hesitation.

"Please," he added.

"I'll stay the night," you reassured him.

"Okay," he settled, pulling you into his arms, wrapping you as he kissed your lips hungrily, a soft moan spilling into your mouth when your hands cupped the back of his head.

Joshua felt torn between the need to do things slowly, he hadn't had the chance before to have you like this. Every time he's had the opportunity to kiss you or to have sex with you it's been in lonely corridors.

He didn't want to think about whether he would ever have you here like this again. He didn't want to think of the future and that made him irrational, careless.

Blindly searching for the hem of your clothes, he broke the kiss only to start undressing you. You raised your arms when he got rid of your hoodie you didn't see where it was thrown, Joshua was on your lips again, kissing you with urgency.

"Joshua," you muffled in his mouth. "Let's go to your room."

He nodded and wordlessly motioned you to stand up from his lap, fumbling for your hand to lead you down a dimly lit hall and pushed a door open, turning on the lights to the bedroom.

The room seemed dark upon first glance, the gray bedding contrasting only with the white pillows and the dim lighting of the overhead lamps. To your surprise, the scent of cinnamon hung in the air like a vague memory. As if a candle had been lit moments before he left the apartment to work out at the gym.

Joshua tugged at your arm, pulling you to his body so that he could wrap his arms around your body, leaning his head down to capture your lips with his own with a clumsy kiss as he walked you backwards until the back of your knees touched the edge of his bed.

"Sit down," he instructed softly. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

Your breath hitched slightly, as your body began to heat up as soon as you sat down on his bed.

In one motion he pulled off his sweatshirt, exposing his bare torso. He had minor bruises and scratches on his sides and chest, but you knew it was normal, either from training or from how easily his skin bruised. Or both. While some looked old and faint, other bruises looked black and blue.

With little care for taking his time, he removed your clothes, he wanted you bare as soon as he could so he could finally see you. All the times he has been with you like this, all the times he's had sex with you have been fully clothed.

So when you laid in his bed, wholly naked below him, he sighed out his delight over you. He pressed a knee on the edge of the mattress, placing his hands at each side of your head to lean over your body.

He hummed as he pressed kisses in your lips, once, twice. "You're so beautiful," he muttered in between as his lips moved in yours seamlessly, melting into a more demanding and passionate kiss.

Your eyes sparked with some amazement when he pulled back. He wondered if your husband ever said that to you, because you looked befuddled for a second.

"Yeah, you are," he muttered, a small smile crowning his pretty lips. "The prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Josh," you chuckled warmly. "Don't go all sweet on me now."

"What, you thought I couldn't be anything but horrible to you?" he teased, kissing the apple of your cheek.

"I like the way you are," you confessed when his lips trailed down to the underside of your jaw, making you whimper a little when he placed an open kiss at the base of your throat.

"Yeah?" he muttered, ignoring the feeling shaking his heart. "Why?"

"Y-you're softer than you let on," you stammered, fingers trembling as you grazed his scalp to grab his hair. "You are kind and fun to be around. You're nothing like the world says about you."

"Mmn now who's going sweet on me," he teased, reaching down to kiss your tits, littering kisses all over, not trying to be sensual or to arouse you. He was simply exploring your body with his lips.

But it was quite obvious that you would become aroused. Your body responded by tensing up under his, your fingers clenching into fists, one gripping the bed covers, the other in his hair.

"Josh," you whimpered, when his tongue lapped around one of your nipples, now teasing it with the tip of his tongue, tasting your skin with a delightful groan.

While he did the same to your other nipple, his hand cupped your breast fully, his fingers gently digging into your soft skin, licking your nipple, his tongue swirling around it. His lips wrapped around your hardened nipple and suckled at it slightly.

"Fuck," you breathed, your thighs clenching when a sharp arousing feeling shot through your body.

Joshua hummed softly, detaching his mouth from your nipple with a soft smacking sound and moved to plant a soft kiss on your lower lip. "Will you let me eat you out, baby?" he lifted a hand from the mattress to pinch your chin. "Mn?"

A hot wave sizzled beneath your skin in anticipation. "Yeah," you choked nervously. "Please do."

He smiled before diving in for another chaste kiss and climbed down the bed. His hands came up to grab your thighs from the underside of your knee and pulled your body down so your butt was aligned to the edge of the bed.

Joshua got down on his knees and you propped yourself on your elbows on the mattress to follow his movements, his hands motioning your legs to rest on his shoulders, holding your thighs to help you do so.

"You have the prettiest pussy," he sighed before pressing his lips on your pussy lips, right before lapping his tongue on your folds with a broad stroke, his hands gripping your thighs decisively.

You let your head hang back with a low cry of pleasure, sneaking one hand to grab at his hair again, holding for dear life. His tongue explored your cunt fully, not neglecting a single inch of skin, of your folds, drinking in your arousal.

Joshua darted a look at you. Your head was thrown back and your chest was heaving slightly, only to suck in a breath as his tongue slowly made its way up from your entrance to your clit.

"Oh, god," you gasped when he started pushing his tongue against your clit gently, teasing it first to get it to swell. The sizzling sensation beneath your skin only intensified, making you moan through clenched teeth.

A hand climbed up from your thigh and parked on your lower tummy, palm pressing back on your skin just as his tongue swirled around your clit in swift figure eight motions, unrelenting in their pace, perfectly drawing you closer to the edge.

You eased back on the mattress, biting your lip to focus on the flicking of his tongue on your clit, the way it made the muscles of your inner thighs twitch in response to the sweet teasing. "Joshua, 'm close," you sighed.

Joshua hummed in response, applying more pressure to his large hand on your lower tummy, his low moan vibrating against your sensitive bud.

You slowly fell apart, moaning his name loudly as your sweet orgasm sizzled beneath your skin, washing over you completely, making you tremble on his bed until you are half conscious.

"Joshua," you repeated his name over and over breathlessly. You had released his hair, laying languidly on the edge of his bed as you slowly came down from your high.

But Joshua wasn't done.

His tongue lapped between your folds, dipping into your entrance with a soft groan upon finding that your core throbbed for more. With a soft hum he returned to give your cunt a deep open kiss, making you flinch slightly.

"Josh, please," you breathed out. "I need you... right now."

You sat up clumsily just as he detached his mouth from your cunt, a shudder going through you when you saw the glistening wetness dripping from his mouth and chin, which he wiped with the back of his hand.

"Come here," you motioned when he stood up and you reached out to hook your fingers on the band of his gray sweats, looking up to his eyes as you pulled both his boxers and sweats down for him to step out of them.

You grabbed his cock with one hand, rolling your hand over to his bulbous head, smearing the precum gathering on his slit to give him a few pumps. You brought his tip to your mouth, giving him shy kitty licks before darting a look to his eyes.

His hand brushed your hair gently before cupping the side of your head. "I thought you needed me, baby," he teased and nodded his head to the bed. "Lie back."

You crawled backwards on his large bed and lied back at the same time that he crawled on top of your body, slotting himself between your thighs with a sigh.

"Let me be on top," you breathed, bumping the tip of your nose against his before kissing him. "Please?"

Joshua looked at you with some amusement written in his eyes, he thought of a snarky remark, to tease you before giving into your request. But instead of that, he nodded and rolled over.

"Sit up," you asked softly, moving on your knees to straddle him.

Joshua smiled and sat up, his hands immediately reaching out to grab your waist. "What are you doing, baby?" he chuckled breathily as you sat on top of him, clumsily wrapping your legs around him.

"Just let me do this," you said with a furrowed brow, scooting so that you could align your core to his cock, guiding with your hand before pushing your hips to sheathe him inside you with one thrust.

"God," he breathed out, the tone of his voice raw as his head dropped on your shoulder. "Fuck, baby."

"D'you like that?" you asked innocently, swaying your hips gently against his and biting back a moan over how good he felt stuffed inside you.

He slowly lifted his head to face you. "Yeah, baby," he sighed with an embarrassed smile as he added: "I missed you."

You shuddered upon hearing his confession. "I m-missed you too, Josh."

"Yeah?" he mouthed.

You nodded shyly. "All the time," you admitted.

You realized that you didn't have to go fast to achieve a high, you were just fine with rutting against his hips, feeling every inch of his cock sheathed inside your warmth. The pleasure written on his face was enough for you to stifle a moan, biting your lower lip.

His dark eyes glimmered under the soft glow of the overhead lights of his room, you saw his mouth part a little before he blinked and dropped his head in your chest, muffling a raw moan in your tits. His hands firmly placed on your ass, pressing down each time you sank down on him.

"Leave him," he muttered against your chest, leaving a trail of kisses leading to your heart.

"Joshua," you whispered, your hand slid up his nape, feeling his soft black hair.

"Leave him," he asked again, now lifting his head from your chest to lock eyes with you. "Please."

You thought of telling him all of the implications of that action alone. Because you've thought about it, you wanted to. You've thought about it countless times but there was always something in the way.

"I'll help you," he swallowed hard. "I'll protect you."

"Joshua," you insisted again. "Please, don't. I can't get you more involved."

Joshua let out a breathy laugh. "I think it's a little too late for that, baby," he said slowly, his eyes glinting with some emotion as you kept bouncing gently on top of him.

You read his face, the honesty in his eyes as he kept looking at you. "Are you sure?" you muttered, holding onto his shoulders with your hands to keep your pace steady.

But he held you through, guiding the sway of your hips with his pretty hands. He nodded with his head. "I've never been more sure about something."

A sharp pain twisted inside your chest, you shuddered and rested your forehead on top of his. "Why? What changed?" you whispered against your better judgment. But you needed this.

"I want to do this," he said, but that wasn't the whole truth.

"I don't want this to hurt you in any way," you muttered.

"Come on, baby," Joshua smiled softly at you, his hands sliding up the line of your back wrapping his arms around you. "Don't go all sweet on me."

"Please Joshua," you insisted, a slight tinge of urgency humming in your tone and you pulled your forehead back to see his face fully.

Joshua's mind began to reel. He considered two things, his most instinctive reaction was to lie and deflect the very evident truth (though not to you) that he was in love with you. The second one, and one that he wasn't too keen on, was to just tell you later.

His hands traveled down to your lower back, grabbing your hips to help you move on top of him with more urgency. He didn't need to finish, but he was hoping he would distract you.

You dug your heels into the soft covers to anchor yourself and started pushing against his hips purposefully. "Why now? Tell me," you whispered. And he saw it in your eyes, you were already suspecting.

"Stay with me," he replied, his voice low but full of certainty.

"I'm not going anywhere, I told you I'd stay," you replied, your sweet voice taking a tinge of concern.

He shook his head slightly. "I don't want you to leave," he said through a ragged sigh. "Stay with me."

He knew he was crossing a line, he was about to find out if you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Your eyes remained on his, and he wished for a second to know what you were thinking. The rolling of your hips came to a stop and Joshua thought that you'd get up and leave. His heart vibrated against his chest frantically.

You gave him a slow nod with your head, it was almost a mechanical movement. Okay, you mouthed, okay.

"Yeah?" he whispered, his eyebrow arching slightly. He licked his lips before bringing a hand up to cup your chin and kissed your lower lip softly.

You nodded with eagerness now. "Yeah," you let out a soft laugh. "Why, where does this come from?" you asked.

"What do you mean?" he hummed, egging you to retake the movement of your hips, wanting to feel your tight walls sliding on him again.

You tilted your head back as Joshua moved his lips down your chin, trailing along the line of your jaw. And you let your eyes close to focus back to the motion of your hips, his hard cock on your fluttering walls and you moaned when his lips reached your throat.

"You were meant to be mine," he murmured against your skin. "He was introducing you to me, before everything."

Jake was supposed to introduce you to Joshua. But then he decided he wanted you for himself and you didn't meet Joshua until you were already dating your husband. And it was fine by him, he thought nothing of it at first.

But then he got to meet you.

"You are..." Joshua dipped his face on the crook of your neck, letting out a soft sigh against your skin. "You are the sweetest girl I've ever met."

His lips left an open kiss on your throat, making you squirm a little and moan. Your hand shifted from the back of his head to cup his cheek and you leaned your head, breathing erratically due to the movement of your hips on him.

"Leave him," he said again, but now you felt like you were losing him to a frenzied trance. His eyes were doing that thing again, glimmering under the soft lighting of the room.

"I will, I'll leave him," you hummed and your heart stuttered, breaking over the man that was looking at you like a lost puppy.

He moaned softly when you captured his lips with your own, his hands held your body, shifting to feel your skin, your back, your arms, until they parked at your thighs, kneading softly at the rhythm of the gentle sway of your hips.

"Joshua," you sighed a moan with some urgency.

Joshua turned your body over, pressing your back onto the mattress and slotting himself between your parted thighs to sink into your walls again with a loud groan from his part.

Now on top of you, he could do what he hadn't had the chance to until that moment. As he pulled his hips back, to then press against yours again, his cock dragging in and out of you, fucking you slowly, he could only think of one thing.

"Let me love you," he muttered with a raw tone, looking into your eyes, his hand met your cheek. "Be mine."

A sob coiled in your throat, making his eyes shift to your mouth and back to your eyes. He knew he had struck something in you, and he knew what you felt.

You gave him a fucked out nod, parting your mouth but no words came out.

"Mn? D'you want me to love you?" he asked with a honeyed purr, a smile stretching his pretty lips when you nodded again. "Are you mine?"

"Yeah, yeah," you whimpered between gasps he drew out with each thrust.

He grabbed your leg, hiking your knee up his shoulder to push deeper into you again with a loud cry of pleasure from your part, making tears gather on the corners of your eyes as he started sinking his cock in your walls again.

"I'm gonna love you," he gasped, the enunciation alone robbing him of air as he slowly pushed himself into a mad love surge for you.

Pleasure bloomed inside your body, inundating you with overwhelming waves, your mouth parted further and your brows knitted. The hand that wasn't holding onto him cupped his cheek, driving his gaze to yours.

"Are you gonna come, baby?" he hummed, enjoying the look on your face when you were close.

"Yeah," you gasped out lewdly, closing your eyes to welcome in the sweet wave of pleasure that shot through you briefly. "'m so close."

"Mmn, yeah baby? Gonna come with me?" he grunted, pushing his cock into your walls, his lip quivered slightly, letting out a raw moan through. "Want me to come inside you?"

"Yeah, please. Please, Josh," you whined pathetically, letting out a strangled moan as you slowly started to lose control, sweet pleasure washing over you, making your thighs shake. "Ohh god, mn, 'm gonna–'m–,"

"I know, I know, baby," he replied gently, feeling your walls clamping down around his cock, your warmth swallowing him, tipping him over the edge too. Joshua moaned in your mouth, spilling himself into you with deep hard thrusts.

"Joshua," you squirmed under the weight of his body as he fucked you through your long and sweet orgasm, making a mess on the bed covers.

With a couple of sloppy thrusts, he waited until you stopped shaking to ease your leg back to the mattress, carefully and pressed his chest against yours. He decided to remain quiet, relaxing into the gentle shock of confessing so much in a span of a couple of minutes.

But he just turned his head, bumping the tip of his nose against the underside of your jaw before pressing a kiss on your skin. Breathing tiredly under his weight you caressed his back with your hands, feeling his soft skin and you let out a soft hum.

"Should we... let's get cleaned up," you muttered after some time, breaking the peaceful silence.

The weight of his body between your legs had started to cause some discomfort around the joints of your hips, but even then you didn't want him to break away from you.

With heavy reluctance, Joshua peeled from your body, climbing off the bed and offered you his hand again to follow him down the hall and to the bathroom, where you washed.

"I can lend you some of my clothes," he offered quietly when you came back to his bedroom, wrapped in one of his bathrobes.

He finished putting on some black boxers when he raised his head and found you standing in front of his large bed. He sat down on one corner, reaching over to you and wrapped his long fingers around your wrist to motion you between his thighs.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" he asked, reading your face, he saw that the color had returned to your lips.

"Yeah, I am," you whispered, caressing his shoulder with the palm of your hand. "I'm a bit scared, Josh."

"I know," he admitted, brushing your damp hair with his fingers and tucking it behind your ear carefully. "But we can plan this together. You're not alone."

That made your glimmering eyes lock with his. It felt like a blow to your chest to come to grips that Joshua was willing to help you and even more so, that he loved you.

"Thank you, Joshua," you said, the knot coiling in your throat stealing your voice. "For everything."

Joshua just nodded silently, bringing your hand to his lips to press soft kisses in your knuckles. "Let's sleep, okay? We'll plan tomorrow."

You wore one of his t-shirts to sleep, wrapped in his manly scent and his gray bed sheets.

At the beginning, you laid facing each other at arm's length. He assumed that you needed space, as it was the first time you slept with him.

So he was beginning to prepare for another sleepless night, but this time he was looking at the subject of his unrest. Even if you were right there with him, the pressing matter of getting you out of your failing marriage by any means necessary was causing him worry.

It took him several seconds to realize that you were still awake. Your eyes were closed, but you slowly moved your body closer to his, until your face nestled into the warmth of his neck. Joshua sighed with a smile and that made you tilt your head back so you could see his face.

"Go to sleep, baby," you whispered, looking at him fondly. "We'll plan tomorrow."

At that moment, he wrapped his strong arms around you, giving you a slow, languid kiss that went on until he couldn't kiss you anymore, until his body begged him to rest.

Joshua doesn't know how he managed to fall asleep in your arms, he believes that it was the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat that served as the best lullaby he could ever ask for.

He wished for more nights like this with you, though he wasn't sure when that would be possible.

Nor of the consequences it would bring.

› a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble

but to answer your question @thatgirlfromwindsor: i think joshua is an ass man. yeah 🤔

if you liked this, lemme know! a comment, a like, reblog, anything is appreciated! drop me an ask if you wanna, send me your filthy reqs, or not ᨐฅ💖

anyway now, i swear that next update will be city lights pt 8, i promise hehe

love you all (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)♡

toodles

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a-god-in-crime-alley · 10 months ago

Text

So I’mma do a quick rant on Tim and the whole “forever 17” thing people are always going on about.

Disclaimer: some of this is based on my own experience with how I changed as I got older and comments from people that I went months and years without seeing.

I’m AFAB so it’s not quite the same. But I’ve never been one to remember a skin care routine and have relied on good genetics and good hygiene to make this point.

When doing some calculations for another post (you’ve probably seen that post I reblogged about the batkids ages) it hit me WHY it doesn’t look like Tim has aged.

Sure it might just be a style choice because DC wants to keep a chokehold on their Teen audience with Tim. (Even though Damian is RIGHT THERE!!! DC stop making Damian look like Tim for the love of GOD!)

A lot of people don’t actually CHANGE that much from ages 16-24 as long as they are keeping to the same exercise routines and diets. With the exception of Tim’s Brucequest, he kept to a fairly stable routine for Years!

The reason most people change so much early on is because they drop off their usual exercise (gym class) and repetitive diet (school or packed lunch). So you see people’s weight fluctuating (this can have an effect of visible face shape) hair either thinning or thickening and skin either clearing or getting more acne.

Add this to Tim probably having pretty good genetics (his mom looked like she was maybe pushing 30 when she died but was probably closer to mid 40s. Both Janet and Jack were around 10 years older than Bruce, who would have been mid 30s at the time.)

Tim not showing any signs of facial hair can also be down to genetics. Some cis men just NEVER get more than a single chin hair, maybe a max of 5 sparsely scattered along their chin. Those guys usually just pluck them out. They never actually have to shave. Though I think we Have seen Tim shaving again one point. Can’t remember when.

Either way, it makes sense for Tim not to actually look his age in any more than muscle mass. He’s noticeably built compared to how he was when Damian was introduced. (When the artists are going for a more realistic art style.)

Then considering his most recent dimensional adventure to save Bruce after the shit with Failsafe, you see just how much older he looks next to his mother (from that universe) and she didn’t seem that surprised with how he looked. Meaning her version of him is probably around the same age, and anyone who read that issue can see she looked pretty young.

Add all this to the fact it’s Canon that Jason is 23! He’s only at most 3 years older than Tim but is probably closer to 2 years older. (With Jason being 15 going on 16 when he died. And Tim was 12-13 by the 6 month mark after Jason died and Tim became Robin.)

So in conclusion, DC needs to stop acting like Tim’s still a Teenager and acknowledge that he’s a lot closer to 21 (hell, if we go by proper calculations he SHOULD BE 21).

What I’m saying is give us Tim going out for drinks with his older brothers. Have him show up at Jason’s after something bad happens and ask if he’s still up for that drink (in reference to that one time Jason offered to get a 16 year old Tim into a bar.)

Give us Funny Drunk Tim shenanigans to balance out that Dick is a miserable drunk! Have Jason get stuck babysitting both of them because he’s the only one that can actually hold his alcohol. Have the Girls be watching and laughing from across the bar because they unintentionally had their Girls Night and the same place the guys had their Boys Night.

Please DC, I am Begging you!

#tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #Batfam #Tim isn’t 17 and I will die on this hill #neither are any of the Core Four #Connor isn’t even SUPPOSED to look like he’s aging because he was artificially aged in the cloning pod #Connor looks like a young 20 something and he’s supposed too!!!!#Literally all three of the others are Metas with powers than make aging moot!#Bart has super speed and such has super Healing #Cassie is a Demigoddess!!!!

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i-write-boop-spoops · 1 year ago

Text

Living with Leon headcanons

ya girl is back with some galar-champ goodness! i gotta say, the living-with hcs have to be some of my favourite to write, i love the cute domesticity of it all. i wrote over 1k words of this to prove it! and i still probs have more to say

features gn! reader, a suggestive reference or two, and a wee bit of angst.

nsfw part 2 here

Enjoy!

You jumped at the chance to move in with Lee

It meant you could spend way more time together

With his busy schedule, you could go a long time without seeing him in person

Five weeks at one point :(

Facetime just couldn’t cut it…

Your heart simply couldn't take it anymore!

Even just to see him briefly in the morning or at night

Share a quick kiss

Curl up against him in bed

You’d take any small, but precious, moments with your champion!

Truth be told, Leon's Wyndon penthouse wasn't much of a home before you moved in

It was picked out by Chairman Rose, paid for by him actually

Despite having lived there for YEARS

It never felt like home to Leon

Just a place to sleep, eat and workout

He never had the time (or motivation) to really just make it his own

With the exception of Hop's bedroom, which the two of them lovingly decorated together

He really wanted his brother to feel loved and comfortable whenever he stayed over

He wants you to feel that way too!

Lee lets you go as crazy as you want when it comes to redecorating

It's YOUR home now, and you'll be spending way more time in it

Even if it's not his taste, he still enjoys seeing your personal touch shine through the décor

Places you were not allowed mess with were Hop's room (duh), the gym and the master bathroom

Those last two are his sanctuaries!

His gym isn't big by any means, but it has all his usual workout machines and free weights

A mat and bag for him to practice the fighting skills he learned from Mustard

Some stuff for his Pokemon to train too!

He likes to exercise in the mornings

At 5am eek

He invites you to join, though you usually just decline because that's VERY early and your bed is too big and cosy and warm and lovely

Sometimes though, you haul the covers into the gym and watch him work out all bundled up

Thoroughly enjoying yourself at the sight of his flexing muscles

While he thoroughly enjoys your shameless admiration

The one thing you do tend to join in as part of his work-out routine is the shower afterward ;)

Speaking of

The bathroom… omg the bathroom

There's a giant tub with jets

And he's got all the essentials

Bubble bath, bath bombs, Epson salts for when your muscles are cranky

He even has dried expensive seaweed from Hoenn if you want a seaweed bath that makes your skin so utterly soft

You swfinitely try and have a bath together once a week, it's the perfect way to de-stress, but also pamper yourselves!

His shower is also HUGE

And has jets too

Plus a waterfall option that makes it feel like you're in a sexy shampoo commercial

You have spent literally HOURS in there, it's so luxurious

And he can’t even complain because there’s plenty space for the two of you!

The drain gets clogged so easily from all his hair rip

Leon definitely takes care of appearance

His skincare routine is just perfection

His beard doesn't happen like that naturally either, he shaves quite regularly to keep the style neat

When you can, you love brushing Leon’s hair

He loves it too!

It’s so comforting for him, makes him feel all fuzzy

He likes when you style it too, even if it ends up a lil’ wonky

Like a lot of things about Leon his house, his TV is huge

He has a switch too!

Naturally, he gets competitive when you’re racing against each other in Mario Kart (but in a good-natured way!)

Cuddling on the couch while watching a movie is mandatory

If you EVER secretly watch the next episode of a show you’re supposed to watch together he will never speak to you again

His skill in the kitchen is not equal to his skill in battle, but he’s still pretty good

His meals tend to be on the healthier side, but he uses a lot of spices and seasonings to make them tastier

He makes a LOT of protein shakes be warned

Sometimes he even makes you breakfast in bed <3

He definitely has a secret stash of goodies for emergencies/when he doesn’t have to keep as lean during off-season

Of course, you do get curries from your local takeaway now and again!

Like every Galarian household, tea is sacred in your home

Both of you know exactly how the other likes theirs, and you both make sure it’s made to perfection each time

However you do butt heads on what biscuit to pair with your tea (and even the dreaded dunking debate :o )

By nature of the Pokemon League being such a phenomenon in Galar

Sponsorships are a huge deal

Meaning you often end up with a ton of free stuff

Leon lets you go through the goodies and take what you like

Most of the stuff is battle/sport related

You also end up with a lot of those rich people kitchen gadgets that are so much worse than what you already have

Why is dpes the blender need to be connected to the wifi?

You are secretly trying to get him to get a squishmellows sponsorships haha

When he's had a rough day, coming home to you is simply heaven

He'll climb into your arms and bury his face in his chest

Holding you so tight in the security of your shared space

While you play with his hair

In here, with you, there are no fans, no executives, no great big titles, no legacy to defend within an inch of his life

It’s just two lovers, taking care of each other

While he likes the apartment well enough (especially now with you in it)

He certainly does not plan to stay there forever

After he loses the champion title, he moves you into a beautifully vintage townhouse near the Battle Tower

It's definitely cosier and more lowkey

With room for a (sizable) family if that's your plan

And ofc a home gym and fancy bathroom

Plus a garden too, which you didn't have before!

He indulges himself a little and gets a cottage in Postwick for you to escape to when the hustle and bustle of the city gets a bit too much

#champion leon x reader #champion leon headcanons #champion leon #leon pokemon #leon pokemon x reader #leon pokemon headcanons #trainer leon #trainer leon x reader #trainer leon headcanons #fluff

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pure-ablution · 2 months ago

Note

Can you talk about the exercises/sports you do?

I’d be glad to!

I don’t do every single one of these classes every day, so although it looks like quite a lot, it really isn’t as much as it seems. I’m a very active sort of person, I always have been, and I like to have at least one exercise class booked for each day of the week, but almost all of them are low-impact and focus on precision and awareness in movement, grace and flexibility, and bodily control. These are the exercises and sports that work best for me and give me the physical and mental results I like best, but you can take whatever is helpful to you from this list. I’m happy to talk about any of the exercises I do in more detail if you’re interested, just send another ask or message me privately.

0–5–45. This is my adaptation of the very popular treadmill workout, and I do it every single day as soon as I arrive at the gym. I’ve adapted it to have 0% incline because I find that inclines build up my legs too much, I’ve sped it up to 5 mph (8 kmph) because I like a brisk powerwalk, and I do it for 45 minutes instead of 30 because 30 just isn’t a challenge for me anymore. I love this little workout because it doesn’t require any thought so early in the morning, it’s low impact but it still warms me up and gets me going, and it helps maintain my preferred body fat percentage without building unwanted muscle and requiring a lot of undue effort.

Resistance workouts. I like to switch these up so that I don’t get bored, but every day after the treadmill, I like to do some combination of a workout with calisthenic and resistance-based exercises. I avoid purposeful ab workouts because I don’t want to build up my waist accidentally—the only exercise I really do for my abs are stomach vacuums and nauli kriya—but aside from that, pretty much anything goes. Using a resistance band helps me improve my flexibility as well as my strength, and bodyweight exercises build up my strength without overloading or bulking up any of my muscles. My workout usually lasts about 20–30 minutes and I tried to find a single video demonstrating what I do, but I couldn’t find one—it’s basically just a random mixture each day of calisthenics and resistance bands.

Stretching. Stretching my muscles properly isn’t exactly an exercise or a sport per se, but it’s definitely the most important aspect of my workout routine so I’m going to include it here. Improving and maintaining my flexibility, especially as I grow older, is very important to me, and stretching not only keeps my joints and muscles supple, but it also helps to keep my muscles long and lean instead of short and bulky. I’m hypermobile and so I have my own stretching routine which gives me the proper deep stretch that my body needs whilst maintaining good joint support—it’s based on the stretches and exercises I was taught to do when I trained in rhythmic gymnastics as a child. Again, I mix it up, but you can find basically every stretch and exercise I do amongst the videos on this playlist.

Weightlifting. I only started weightlifting relatively recently, and I have to admit that I’m still a bit hesitant about it, but it’s definitely given me much more of a rounded figure and boosted my natural shape—my butt looks a million and one times better now! I really don’t like the typical ‘strong curves’ kind of look and it just doesn’t suit me, so I stick to using very low weights and high repetitions to build strength without overly increasing my muscle volume. Weightlifting has helped improve my shoulder strength in particular, which was always a huge issue for me, and it’s helped to better sculpt my arms and lift my butt better than any other exercises I do. I try to do an hour of weightlifting every evening after I’ve finished with my things to do that day, and I focus mostly on my form and ensuring that I execute each exercise correctly for the best impact. I do things slowly and carefully, and I think that it’s this super-slow pace and precision that’s given me the results I like best, because it still really tests my muscles and pushes me further each time without overloading anything.

Ballet. Ballet is the one dance that I’m totally devoted to. I’ve been in ballet classes since I was 2 years old—so almost 20 years now—and I just love it, it does wonders for my body and for my sense of physical grace. Since starting at uni, I’ve gone down to one class a week with one extra conditioning class on a Saturday, and although it’s nowhere near enough for me to be considered a ‘serious’ ballerina, it fits into my schedule and allows me to keep up my skills to a reasonable degree. I’ve always studied ballet with the Vaganova Method, and again, this has really emphasised the importance of precision and lightness in the way I dance and move in my everyday life. Ballet has given me the most overall control over my body and the way I move, I think, out of everything I do, and it’s taught me the importance of discipline and routine when it comes to looking after your health.

Ballroom/Latin dancing. I switch this one up much, much more because it’s not so serious for me. I love social and partnered dancing, and I’m lucky in that the ballroom and Latin dance classes near me allow me to switch up each week and not remain loyal to one single dance or style. Partnered dancing, for me, is about knowing the right dances in the right circumstances, and connecting with your body and your partner’s body, and that’s what my classes give me, nothing more and nothing less. Alajos is much better than me in this respect because he’s always danced much more seriously than I have, but I love going out for our weekly dance class together and perfecting the steps of a foxtrot or samba. Both ballroom and Latin social dance styles help most with tapping into sensuality and understanding how your body can relate to another in the context of music, and they’ve given me a lot to work with in terms of body language and physical social skills.

Traditional folk dancing. This is much more informal and I don’t take classes in it anymore, although I used to, when I lived back home. Nowadays, me and a few other girls set up an informal folk dancing troupe and we teach one another our native dances, it’s just something fun and silly and we only meet up every couple of weeks or so, but it helps us keep in touch with our roots and traditions, I think. I like folk dancing in particular because not only is it fun and lively, but it also really exaggerates the difference between the sexes and the nature of femininity, so in that way, you can learn a bit more about how your ancestors might have thought women ought to behave and move, and water this down for your everyday life. It’s interesting and strangely anthropological in that sense, and some folk dances in particular place a huge emphasis on facial expressions in dance, which I like—it’s a fun and helpful change from focusing mostly on the body, and enables you to gain control over your facial muscles, too.

Rhythmic gymnastics. This used to be the bane of my life when I was a child, but I’m grateful for it now. RG probably evokes some traumatic response for most, if not all, post-Soviet girls out there, and I’m no exception. I’ve done rhythmic gymnastics for as long as I’ve done ballet, but I don’t do it nearly as frequently now because I’m much older and I was never especially amazing at it in the first place. I mostly help out with teaching younger girls these days, work on my flexibility in my free time, and go back to training briefly but intensively if I’m going in for a student competition or something—I take conditioning classes more often than I actually train in gymnastics now. At this point, it’s more about my flexibility and strength than anything else, and I can’t name a sport which has better improved my flexibility to almost freakish levels than gymnastics.

Reformer pilates. I take reformer classes twice a week at the studio near me, and I like it a lot, although I think that mat pilates gives much more potential for a harder and more advanced workout. The nice thing about the reformer is that it adds some resistance to my workout, and my studio offers both traditional reformer classes and ‘power’ classes which seem to be more of a mix between pilates and strength training, with a heavy focus on form and posture. The power classes have helped me hugely with my understanding of form in weightlifting especially, and the traditional classes allow me to stretch my muscles deeply and in ways that are more difficult to do without the help of equipment. I also really like reformer pilates as a rehabilitation exercise if I’m recovering from an injury, because the reformer offers a lot of support, better enables isolated exercises, and you can take it as gently and as slowly as you need.

Mat pilates. My studio offers a classical mat pilates class and I take it twice a week. Pilates these days seems to be associated more with aerobic exercise, but traditional pilates focuses much more on posture and functional movement, and our classes follow the original method of Joseph Pilates and a few of his students, though my instructor isn’t super rigid about this and likes to teach us the history and development of pilates when we’re exercising. Classical mat pilates uses only a few exercises in a very specific sequence, and I could probably skip my classes and just do it at home if I wanted, but I like my instructor’s commentary and the way that she pushes us to stretch and strengthen much further each time we go. I’ve tried contemporary mat classes, too, and they definitely ‘feel’ harder because they get my heart rate elevated much more, but I prefer the classical method because of its focus on detailed, precise movement and correct posture, and how it seems to work each muscle of my whole body.

Qigong/tai chi. I take one qigong class and one tai chi class each week, and I really love them for their meditative focus and how they allow me to feel so much more in-touch and in-control of my body. Qigong is a set of exercises purely for health purposes, and focuses a lot on very slow, intentional movement along with breathing and internal awareness. I like it better than tai chi; it gives me a strange but very beneficial, almost spiritual sort of awareness of my body that I haven’t experienced with any other exercise. Tai chi falls under the bracket of qigong but it’s actually a martial art, although my instructor leans away from the grappling aspect of the art and prefers its interpretation as a low-impact and mindful exercise. In my experience, tai chi is a little more mentally draining, and helps a lot with understanding intention and resolve in thought and movement, as well as improving my posture and reflexes.

Barre. Barre is simply a workout style derived from ballet conditioning classes, and it’s intended for fitness rather than any kind of grace or bodily awareness. I like it, because the small, precise movements help to tone my body in the way I like, and it’s more of an aerobic exercise and cardio workout than most of the other exercises I do, but I would recommend that you find an instructor with a ballet background and avoid any of the chain/branded barre classes—in my opinion and experience, they only really teach bad habits and poor form whilst bulking up the leg muscles, and aren’t much in themselves beyond a bit of weighted pilates. My instructor combines traditional barre exercises with floor-barre workouts, and the classes are designed in a way that’s thoughtful and fitness-intentioned without inadvertently hurting or hindering actual dancers. Proper, well-informed barre classes will help you a lot with improving aerobic fitness, stamina, and awareness of individual muscles, without bulking you up unnecessarily or accidentally damaging your joints and muscles.

Step aerobics. This is super ’80s but I love the step aerobics class at my gym, I’m the youngest there by about 30 years but I don’t really care because it’s fun and it gives me results. My instructor keeps it low-impact, there are no jumps or jogging required, and it’s just a really fun way for me to get in some cardio without it feeling like a chore. I don’t think that step gives me serious physical results in any way, but I do it mostly for my heart health and overall fitness and stamina, and it definitely helps in that respect without building up my muscles in the slightest. You could definitely do step aerobics at home if you wanted—I do it sometimes if I haven’t been able to book onto my usual class, using one of Jane Fonda’s old video workouts—but I like the social aspect of it and the silliness. It’s important to keep sport fun, I think, and I look forward to my step classes every week.

Callanetics. This is another super ’80s workout but it’s one that actually does give physical results, in my opinion. Callanetics tightens up my body in a way that I think is quite unique, and it works really fast. It works with repetitions of small movements and isometric exercises, and was developed from classical ballet conditioning classes. It’s super boring because you don’t really do anything major, and you don’t feel as though you’re working out, but whatever it is, it definitely works in some capacity and I really notice if I haven’t been keeping up with my schedule! Callanetics just seem to draw you inwards somehow, as though someone’s taken the strings and pulled them tightly—my waist seems much, much tighter, my legs are sculpted and shapely, and my butt and breasts are lifted upwards. This is one of those workouts which needs precision in form and movement, so if you can find a class near you, then I recommend going for at least a few sessions to make sure that you’re doing each exercise correctly. Otherwise, use a mirror and the original books and videos.

Gyrotonics. This is a bit esoteric, but my ballet instructor recommended that I start taking gyrotonic classes for my posture and range of movement, and they actually work wonders. It’s not easy to find a gyrotonic class because it requires specialist training and equipment, but if you do find one, then I really recommend that you go. It’s sort of like classical reformer pilates in 3D, if that makes any kind of sense, and focuses on enhancing your spinal movement in every direction whilst simultaneously building up functional strength and muscle tone. I take a gyrotonic class every few weeks or so just to realign myself and remind my body of its proper skeletal positioning, and I think it’s worked wonders for my posture, flexibility, and joint support. I don’t dislocate my joints anywhere near as frequently anymore, and I can move much more supply and smoothly.

Somatics. Somatic techniques sound like total quackery and I think that some of them are, but others actually do work and help a lot with posture and bodily awareness. Things like the Alexander Technique aren’t complete snake oil, but they are relatively obscure and only really popular amongst dancers, actors, and musicians. I saw a posture therapist for almost a year and she drew upon the Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais, and other biomechanical theories to help me understand how posture isn’t only about spinal positioning but actually awareness and positioning of every joint, muscle, and nerve in your body. The exercises are very slow and meditative, and more internal than external, with a lot of focus on the training of the nervous and respiratory systems; they basically just teach your body, very slowly and methodically, the healthiest way of aligning itself within physical space, and teach you how to be aware of your body’s positioning so that you can notice and realign yourself when necessary. I’d recommend finding a serious teacher who isn’t some kind of witch doctor—one who works a lot with performing artists would probably be best. I don’t attend actual somatics classes anymore, but I still use a lot of the exercises and theory in my everyday life, and it really enhances my experience and results from the other exercises I do, like pilates.

Iyengar yoga. I’ve tried lots of different varieties of yoga but iyengar is my favourite by far. It has a lot less ‘flow’ than other types of yoga, and so can seem a bit disjointed or overly regimented at first, but I love its focus on detail and precision, and how it’s truly a taught class with exercises to take away and practise, instead of something looser and more intuitive. Iyengar is very intense, it’s more mentally than physically taxing because of its demands with precision, and focuses almost completely on perfecting alignment and technique, and it’s a favourite amongst the ballet dancers I know because of this—although actually, it’s accessible for almost anyone, and my class is mostly full of retirees. Iyengar was designed to rehabilitate and teach yoga to people with physical limitations, and it’s a regimented sort of system which makes you reliably strong over an extended and planned period of time.

Swimming. I love swimming so much, I’m a total waterbaby and I feel so happy in the water. Swimming is an excellent sport for pretty much anyone, I think, because you become almost weightless in the water and all of your joints are completely supported. It works out the whole body and you can take it as far or as little as you feel you need, and even the most poorly-coordinated body moves gracefully in water. I try to go swimming for a couple of hours each week, and I prefer swimming in the lake or river near me, but if it’s too cold or polluted then I use the pool at my gym centre. I’ve been swimming for as long as I can remember; I grew up next to the Caspian Sea and every child in my town could swim before they started at school. I don’t take any classes or anything like that anymore, I just turn up and swim lengths until my time is up, and I think that swimming is a skill that everyone should learn because you never know when you’ll need it. It’s a perfect entry sport for people who are unfit or embarrassed about how they look or move, and I’d recommend signing up for a few adult classes if you feel in any way unsure or worried about your safety in the water.

#ask-beauty #bodycare #workout #sport #routine

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bakedbakermom · 1 year ago

Text

Waking Dreamland

Rated T // 4000 words // Read on A03

Angst (oh so much angst) with a happy ending! During my last rewatch I stayed up until 2am crying over the handful of sunflower seeds that Mulder gives Scully when they say goodbye (totally normal behavior right??), and thus this fic was born.

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

Dreamland AU - When Mulder is unable to switch back into his original body, Scully returns to Washington and he remains in Rachel, Nevada. They both try to build new lives for themselves, but how can they endure without each other?

He grows a beard. It’s the wrong color, but thicker and softer than the one he tried to grow in high school, and he’s surprised by how much he likes it, by how much it helps; it hides the unfamiliar chin and gives him something to look at in the mirror besides the eyes surrounded by laugh lines he didn’t earn, the nose that was never broken in a fight with Bobby Scortino behind the gym in fifth grade, the mouth that has never felt the sweet, trembling warmth of her breath.

This other man’s body hangs on him like an ill-fitted suit, soft from years behind a desk, but the knees are in decent enough shape for him to ease into a running routine that may someday catch up to what his old body could do. He lifts weights at the rec center, slowly replacing the beer gut with lean muscle; and though he knows it will never be the same, at least it’s a change he can control. Exercise helps with his anxiety, which unfortunately didn’t get left behind, unlike his weird little toe and the gunshot scar below his clavicle that he still startles to find missing each morning in the shower.

He joins a basketball league, even starts coaching a couple of youth baseball teams. There’s a girl named Dreama on the Tween Team, a little redheaded shortstop who always has her science textbook in her gym bag and never lets him get away with anything. He feels a near-painful whelming of hope for her, and endless indulgent pity for the gangly, dark-haired boy who trails along after her everywhere she goes, trying to impress her.

If being a Man in Black is hard, then quitting is somehow even harder; they don’t usually let men of his (well, Morris’s) position just hang up their flashy-things and walk out the door. He suspects they only let him get away with it because of the divorce, and because he stays close enough to the base that they can monitor him—dark cars with bland men parked in front of his apartment, a clicking any time he picks up the phone. Not that he has many places to go, not that he has anyone to call. He lingers only on the periphery, keeps only the most superficial relationships, glancing off of other people’s lives like light off a soap bubble.

Joanne kept the house and the kids, of course. He hears through the grapevine that Chris got early acceptance to UCLA, and that Terrance wants to become a screenwriter. Their new stepdad works in the same division that was in charge of faking the moon landing (before NASA managed to pull off the real one) so the kid will probably have an “in” at any studio he likes. He sees Joanne in town sometimes, at the market or the post office or the video store, and she is always smiling. He doesn’t approach her.

Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone is just get out of their way.

He gets a job, of all places, at the Little A’le’inn, slinging Alien Ales and Saucer Burgers to townies and tourists alike. It’s not a great job, but he’s had worse; and at least he gets to keep his ear to the ground for any good UFO gossip, even if it’s just the bragging of the test pilots and not hints into the dark heart of the mystery that consumed him for so many years. He has had to mourn for the answers he will truly never find, now, and the irony of being scant miles from the conspiracy theorist holy grail while himself being resigned to more earthly concerns is not lost on him.

He works, he works out, he endures. He slowly accepts that he will live and die in this body, in this prison of flesh that creaks in all the wrong places, in this life he tripped and fell into while it was already in motion. It’s a life sentence, and there is not even the hope of parole on the horizon.

The constant flow of UFO-worshippers through this bizarre neon honkytonk Mecca has one advantage: he can keep in contact with the Lone Gunmen. All his phone and email correspondence is being monitored, so they’ve set up drop points and communication systems in what the boys colorfully refer to as “meatspace” to get around it. There is a loose tile behind the door in the men’s room with a crack on one side and a hole behind it that they use to exchange brief messages, funneled through the hands of who knows how many anonymous intermediaries. If the crack is at the top, there’s a message waiting for him. He turns it to three o’clock when his reply is ready to be picked up.

There are protocols in place for six and nine o’clock, but he has yet to engage them.

He never knows which of the patrons leaves or picks up the carefully coded messages, and that’s probably for the best. The Gunmen never use the same courier more than twice, and they switch up their cyphers every few months—usually just as he is getting the hang of one, which is of course the point, but he grumbles under his breath anyway each time he finds a new decoder ring behind the tile.

They’ve talked about securing an email address for him, funnel accounts and spyware countermeasures they could deploy so he could keep in touch with his old life, but there’s only one other person he’d want to talk to, and he thought a clean break would be better.

He has only one picture of her, one the Gunmen had scrounged from his apartment while Morris was busy redecorating. It’s a polaroid he’d taken of her the day they got a new camera for the office. She’s sitting at the desk in front of his poster (god he misses that poster, nothing but ashes in the vent system now), one eyebrow raised in indulgent skepticism while he bounced around like a little kid, so excited to play with his new toy. The flash going off had surprised them both, but not as much as the fact that the picture had come out not just properly focused but also incredibly cute. She had rolled her eyes when he put it in his suit pocket, then on his desk at home, and so it was one of the few things that survived the fire.

He keeps it in his wallet, and tries not to look at it too much. It’s enough—it needs to be enough—just to know she’s there.

Sometimes at night he dreams of her. On the good nights, he dreams of smokey lounges and roadside diners and the hallway outside his apartment. On the bad nights, he dreams of the rising hum of bees.

He wonders if she ever dreams of him.

Time passes, and he rides it like a wave, letting it carry him away from the shipwreck of his old life and wash away what little flotsam still clings to him. News comes through the Gunmen—Skinner’s death, Spender’s, Diana disappearing along with the Smoking Man and his ilk. He does not ask them for news of her, and they do not offer it.

His mother’s passing hits him harder than he expected, and he asks the boys to send flowers for her grave. He wonders if Morris ever tried to reconcile with her, if he even went to the funeral. If she did. He takes three days off from work and indulges perhaps too deeply in the bar’s employee discount, puking out his guts and his regrets and a shame rooted so deep it rips him apart as it comes up, until he is empty, scraped clean, another thread in the sailcloth of his old life snipped away, never to be mended.

He goes back to work feeling both leaden with grief and weightlessly unmoored, as if gravity hasn’t yet decided what to do with him. He pours drinks, serves Wegman a burger, tries to laugh with the UFO nuts who stop by on their way to the Black (or is it white?) Mailbox, dreaming of Dreamland.

There’s a song playing on the jukebox that he recognizes, though no one can tell him the name or who sings it. It’s the same song that played the first time, when he brought Morris’s wife here a lifetime ago, when he thought there might still be hope. When he thought maybe he could still go home. His vision blurs as he listens, and he blames the Nevada laws that still allow smoking in bars.

I have waited for what seems Like a whole light-year Just to see your face

Something in his chest grows tight, and the other sounds around him fade away.

Now I'm staring at the stars Wondering where you are Wondering if I'll ever see Your face again

The bell above the front door jingles, somehow the only thing he can hear beside the music, and he looks up.

…as long as the sun would shine You would love me Love me And I hope You'll love the sunshine One more time…

He sees her the same moment she sees him, that shock of recognition like the shifting of the plates that bear the continents across the sea. The glass in his hand falls, shatters, and he would leap across the bar and pull her into his arms if his body (well, Morris’s) could just remember how.

All he can do is breathe her name.

“Scully…”

—

She carries the sunflower seeds in her pocket back to the motel, her hand tingling where his skin had touched hers for the last time. She cries that night, stinging tears and the kind of wracking, unstoppable sobs that make her ribs ache and her throat burn—the kind that Morris can almost certainly hear through the walls, thin as cardboard, and knowing that only makes it worse. He at least has the good grace to keep his mouth shut on the flight home, and she even catches a glimpse of what looks like contrition on his face once or twice.

They part outside the airport and he doesn’t look back. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

She still has enough friends and enough goodwill (or perhaps pity) at the Bureau to salvage her old teaching position, flaying corpses in a room full of wide-eyed students that now all look like babies to her. She wonders how she was ever so young. She wonders at the weight of years, the weathering of time, the subtle changes in the body and mind that build and ebb in a person like sand carried by the tide until one day you wake to find that shoreline has become unrecognizable.

She has felt that seachange in her core, somewhere behind her solar plexus, tugging at her from the depths of his eyes; he has remade her, as she has remade him, shaping and reshaping each other over years and miles and tears and enough bad coffee to bring down the ageless, impregnable cliffs that once surrounded her heart. She staggers now without it, like the nauseating jolt of solid ground after months at sea. She cannot find her footing.

The seeds live in her pocket so long they start to crumble, salt on her fingers day after day as she fiddles absently with them, and she finally moves them into a glass jar that she keeps on a shelf. She opens it once in a while just to smell them, just to feel the sting in her eyes and know that he was real, that they were real; and if she sneaks the jar into bed with her sometimes, if she sleeps with it under her pillow because it’s the only way to keep the nightmares at bay, she tries not to think about it too much.

She tries, for a long time, to move on. She buries Skinner. She buries Spender. She buries herself in jagged pieces that keep rising through the earth to cut her when she least expects it. We bury our dead alive, and she is a woman both haunted and haunting.

She moves through her life without touching it. She teaches, she consults, she moves her mouth and makes the noises that mimic human expression and connection without ever feeling them. It’s grief, she knows, leaving her by turns agonized and numb, screaming and sobbing, and it’s supposed to ease with time; but how can it when the ghost of him haunts not a house but her very cells, and his body lies not beneath the cold, dark earth but walks and talks and sneezes as if nothing has happened at all?

The gossip reaches her, even down in those cold, subterranean labs where she burrows herself away—he’s climbing the ladder with hands that aren’t his, bedding his way through the secretarial pool in a stolen body, throwing away another man’s lifetime of hard-earned misery to grab at that brass ring.

She sees him in the hallways, though she tries not to. To see his face with another person behind it—the smile that doesn’t match the mouth, the voice that hits all the wrong notes, even the gait like his shoes don’t fit, except it’s the feet themselves that are wrong—each time it twists in her gut like a knife. He says hello to her, once, a tentative and distorted echo that leaves her panting and heaving in the women’s room until Holly comes in and asks if she doesn’t need to go home and lie down.

She quits the next day.

Her mother tries to understand, though she has never been able to properly explain just what has happened to this bad pantomime that used to be the man at the center of her world. Maggie hugs her, feeds her, does her laundry when she can’t do it herself. She watches her daughter adrift on the tide and prays each Sunday that she will find some way to turn her ship to harbor.

They attend Teena Mulder’s funeral together, two black-clad figures among the scant handful of mourners who turn up at the snowy gravesite in North Carolina, murmuring thinly veiled poison about poor Teena’s ungrateful son, who couldn’t even be bothered to attend.

A wreath of lilac and carnation stands beside the open earth, with a tag reading simply “- M.” She traces her finger over it a dozen times, tears freezing on her cheeks.

When they go back to the car, she draws a deep and steadying breath. “Mom—”

“I know, sweetie. I’ll help you pack.”

—

She sidles up to the bar and his heart pounds so loudly in his ears he wonders if she can hear it. Her hair is dark, longer than he’s ever seen it, longer than the intervening months could account for and he realizes she’s wearing a wig; her makeup and clothing are outside her norm, as well—smokey eyes, crimson lips, a t-shirt from some band he doesn’t know, jeans with slashes across the knees that reveal little hints of pink skin as she walks toward him. She’s disguised herself from prying eyes, but he’d know her anywhere. Those luminous blue eyes that glass with tears as she looks at him, the way her right eyebrow lifts and her chin pebbles as she tries not to cry, the watery smile that pulls at her lips when she says, “Buy a girl a drink?” with a hitch in her voice that stakes him through the heart.

There are creatures in the desert, he knows, that go to ground deep beneath the sand, desiccating under the unrelenting heat, and only come back to life in the rain. He has become a creature of the desert, an empty husk curled and hollow; he drinks in the sight of her like the first patter of gentle rain, trying to let it be enough, even as he longs for a deluge to wash him clean and carry him away.

They slip into a booth in the back corner, sipping from twin bottles of local lager, and he cannot stop staring at her. She tells him about her life the past eighteen months, the pain and grief and loneliness that echoes down the hallways of her heart just as it does his. He tucks her words inside himself, as if he could save them, as if they can protect him from the drought that will return after the rain passes, as if they could fill all the empty places left behind when so much of himself has been cut away.

He aches to touch her, to tuck a strand of not-her-hair behind her ear and skim his thumb over the downy softness of her cheek. He almost does, almost takes her hand when she tells him about Skinner, purple and straining and dying in her arms; almost brushes away the tear that drips from her eye when she talks about Spender’s lonely burial, how she was the only one to leave a flower for him.

He is frozen. How can he touch her with these hands that aren’t really his? Would she even let him, or would she flinch away from his stranger’s body? And how would he be able to live after seeing that in her eyes?

But when she moves first, when she reaches across the chipped formica table to lay her hand over his as she says, “I’m so sorry about your mother,” the dam inside him breaks and he finds himself weeping, salt streaking down his cheeks as he clings desperately to her tiny, warm fingers. She is driftwood in a storm, a lighthouse through the fog, an anchor in the heaving sea that surges beneath his breastbone and pours in a torrent from his lips as he tells her everything—the cold and empty nights, the days that pass in a heat that burns but refuses to consume, Dreama and the boy and the way his heart cracks just a little bit more every time he makes a desperate wish for their happiness on a star that might be a stealth-plane. How he feels like he has already died, and is now only an inept gardener tending his own grave.

By the end she is crying with him, her eyes so blue he wants to drown in them, and when he stretches his arm across the vast continent of the booth to thumb her tears away, she does not flinch.

She leans into his hand.

He will never be able to put his heart back together after this, and he lavishes in the agony of it all; it means he is still alive.

—

“Hey, Fletch, you and your lady friend gonna lock up?” Sam, the owner, appears beside them as if from nowhere. “I thought your shift ended at ten.”

He snatches his hand back as if burned, clearing his throat and knuckling his eyes, and she looks around to see that the bar has emptied out except for them.

“Sorry, yeah, I guess I lost track of time. I’ll take care of it,” he says, and she marvels at how this different voice in this different throat still somehow drips with him, a favorite melody played on a new instrument. His sad little smile painted over a different set of lips, the familiar glint in a different color eye, the heat of him just the same through a different skin.

“Fletch?” she asks, quirking a brow at him when the other man moves away, and he smiles bashfully.

“I couldn’t stand ‘Morris,’ too close to old memories. Besides, sometimes I get to quote the movie.”

“Ever seen a spleen that large?”

“No, not since breakfast.”

He squeezes her hand in a quick little pulse as he rises to begin tidying up, and it takes her a long minute to wrangle her heart back into rhythm.

Could you love someone who looked like that? (What are you talking about, of course not! Five, ten minutes tops, maybe.)

When the counters are wiped clean and the lights turned off, he leads her out the back door and locks it behind them; the stars are shockingly bright in the clear desert night, glimmering like diamonds across a black velvet sky. His cheap truck and her cheaper rental sedan are the last cars in the lot, and they pause awkwardly between them. A tumbleweed with fantastic comedic timing rolls across the gravel.

Finally he takes her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles as if to memorize their topography. “Thank you, Scully. For coming to see me.”

She opens her mouth to speak but he barrels right past her, the words falling from his lips in a pained deluge: missed you and go home and you deserve more and don’t look back for me and a thousand other ways to say goodbye because he knows if he stops speaking, that will be the end. She feels like she’s back in his hallway, back in that humid bubble of tears and breath where she had been the one begging him to let her go, where she realized she never could.

There are no bees in the desert.

She stops him with a finger against his lips. She cups his jaw, running her thumb along the silk of his beard, and the twitch at the corner of his mouth as he falls silent in surrender is as familiar as her own face in the mirror.

“I didn’t come here to say goodbye. I tried to grieve you. I tried to move on.” She steps closer, feeling the heat from his body wash against her own, the tide of his breathing pulling her to shore. “I tried to live a life without you. But I can’t. I don’t want to.”

His hands (well, Morris’s) are in her hair (well, wig), warm and real and who the fuck cares if the fingerprints they leave on her skin aren’t the ones he was born with, who cares if the tears in his eyes are salt from a different sea? It’s all one ocean, after all, and she wades forward into the spray.

“Wherever you are, Mulder, that’s where I belong,” she whispers. Ship to port, a wave to the shore, she fits into his arms as easy as breathing. “I love you.”

His grin is blinding in the starlight, his laugh echoing across the sand as he pulls her tight against him; he lifts her, spins until she is breathless and giggling. He sets her back down on solid earth, presses his forehead against hers and stares into her eyes. “Say it again.”

She runs her thumbs against his lips, and they’re as soft and plump as she imagined, even if the shape is a little off. “I love you.”

“No,” he says. “The part where you said my name.”

She shakes her head, smiling through the tears in her eyes, and stretches up to breathe, “Mulder,” against his lips.

His kiss is the rumble of thunder across the sea, the safe harbor that calls her home.

–

The next morning he turns the tile, skipping right past six o’clock (get me out of here) and straight to nine (get us out of here).

–

There is a house in West Virginia, an unremarkable little affair with painted shutters and rosemary by the garden gate. The couple who lives there use false names when they play bridge with the neighbors, and strange visitors stop by sometimes in the night. If you ever find yourself inside this house, look for a shelf high in the corner of the kitchen, where the morning light flickers through the dusty window. Look for the jar of sunflower seeds, and the crinkled polaroid propped against it.

Special thanks to @muldxr whose "trick or treat" ask prompted me to remember that I had this fic languishing in my WIP folder; and to @perpetually-weirdening for her encouragement, kind words, and first eyes. I scoured google for DAYS trying to find the name and artist of the song that plays in the Little A'Le'Inn during Dreamland II and apparently it has been lost to time. No one who worked on the show can remember, it doesn't get listed in the episode credits, even Shazaam can't figure it out. Maybe it's an X-File. I'd give credit if I could. Borrowing a handful of quotes from Fletch (1985) and "the part where you said my name" from Ever After: A Cinderella Story (1998), which you should watch if you haven't. I wanted to include a scene of Scully bullying the Lone Gunmen into giving her Mulder's location, but couldn't make it fit. Please feel free to imagine her threatening Frohike with grievous and very specific bodily harm.

#x files fanfic #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #xfiles #the xfiles #mulder and scully #my fic #my writing #dreamland #waking dreamland

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