#curve treadmill

[takkytakk]

.

[crestfitness]

The Ultimate Gym Treadmill: Unleash Your Fitness Potential

Discover the perfect gym treadmill that takes your workouts to the next level. Whether you're a fitness enthusiast or a beginner, this treadmill combines cutting-edge technology, durability, and comfort to help you achieve your fitness goals. Elevate your cardio sessions with the best gym treadmill for a healthier, happier you.

[urbansports1]

Here Are The Health Benefits Of Using A Treadmill. 

However, if you are looking to avoid hitting up the gym and want to shape up, then there is nothing better other than buying a curved treadmill and keep practising on your own.

Read More: https://techplanet.today/post/here-are-the-health-benefits-of-using-a-treadmill

[nnifitnessusa]

Revolutionize Your Workout with the Curved Manual Treadmill

Introduction

In the world of fitness equipment, innovation is constantly pushing boundaries to provide more efficient and effective workout solutions. Among these groundbreaking advancements is the curved manual treadmill, a dynamic fitness machine that challenges traditional treadmill concepts. In this article, we will explore the features and benefits of the curved manual treadmill, exemplified by the product available at NNI Fitness. So, let's dive in and discover how this innovative treadmill can revolutionize your fitness routine.

Unveiling the Curved Manual Treadmill

The curved manual treadmill is a state-of-the-art fitness device designed to engage and enhance your running or walking experience. Unlike traditional motorized treadmills, this innovative machine relies on your own effort to set the pace and intensity. As you step onto the curved running surface, it responds to your movements, providing a smooth and challenging workout tailored to your fitness level.

Key Features and Benefits

Intuitive and Responsive Design: The curved manual treadmill features a unique design with a curved running surface that mimics natural running motions. With every stride, the treadmill responds to your body's movement, offering a fluid and responsive workout experience.

Burn More Calories: The curved manual treadmill is renowned for its ability to increase calorie burn compared to traditional treadmills. The self-powered design requires more effort, engaging more muscle groups and elevating your heart rate, resulting in a more efficient calorie-burning session.

Adjustable Intensity: One of the significant advantages of the curved manual treadmill is its ability to adjust the intensity of your workout instantly. By simply increasing or decreasing your pace, you have full control over the difficulty level, allowing you to customize your training based on your goals and fitness level.

Improved Running Mechanics: Running on a curved treadmill promotes proper running mechanics. The curved surface encourages a natural midfoot strike, which can help reduce the risk of injuries and improve overall running form.

Low Maintenance and Eco-Friendly: As a manual treadmill, the curved design requires minimal maintenance. There are no electrical components or motors to service or replace, making it a cost-effective and eco-friendly choice for your fitness routine.

Versatile Training Options: The curved manual treadmill is suitable for a wide range of workouts, including sprints, intervals, endurance runs, and even walking sessions. It accommodates various fitness levels and training goals, making it a versatile option for individuals of all backgrounds and abilities.

NNI Fitness: Your Curved Manual Treadmill Destination

If you're ready to experience the benefits of a curved treadmill, NNI Fitness offers a high-quality and reliable option to elevate your workouts. Their curved treadmill combines durability, performance, and ergonomic design, ensuring a seamless and enjoyable training experience. With NNI Fitness, you can trust in their commitment to providing exceptional fitness equipment that meets your needs and exceeds your expectations.

Conclusion

The curved manual treadmill represents a significant leap forward in the world of fitness equipment, offering an innovative and effective way to engage in cardio workouts. Its intuitive design, adjustable intensity, and numerous benefits make it a valuable addition to any fitness routine. Whether you're an avid runner, a fitness enthusiast, or a beginner looking to enhance your cardiovascular health, the curved manual treadmill can help you reach your goals. Embrace the power of innovation and discover the transformative potential of the curved manual treadmill from NNI Fitness.

Note: The article is for informational purposes only. Before starting any new fitness program or using exercise equipment, it's recommended to consult with a fitness professional or healthcare provider.

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, creampie, fem!reader, rough smut, fingering, semi-public, pro hero Bakugo

A/N: this request got the highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA & MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The day had been long, grueling, and sweat-inducing. As a pro hero, keeping in peak physical condition was not just a choice but a necessity. 

The air was thick with the smell of sweat and the faint hint of metal, the rhythmic clanging of weights creating a steady soundtrack to your exertion. 

Bakugo Katsuki, your relentless partner, trainer and one of the top pro heroes, was pushing you harder than ever. His methods were harsh, but you knew they were designed to break your limits and build you up stronger.

"You're slowing down, weakling," Bakugo growled, his voice rough with exertion but tinged with a hint of challenge.

You rolled your eyes, slowly trotting on the treadmill. "I kept up with you for nearly two hours, didn't I? Besides, I think you're just trying to cover up how tired you are."

His eyes flashed with annoyance and something darker, more primal. "Watch your mouth, or I'll show you just how much energy I have left."

Soon, he decided to move to another thing on his to-do list.

You were on the leg press machine, your muscles screaming in protest with each rep. Your tight, grey tank top clung to your sweat-drenched body, the fabric almost translucent against your skin. Every bead of sweat that slid down your nose felt like a drop of fire, a testament to your hard work and determination. Your shorts, snug and form-fitting, accentuated the curve of your ass, catching Bakugo's keen eye every now and then.

"Come on! Push harder!" Bakugo barked, his tone leaving no room for excuses. He stood close, his intense gaze fixed on you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You gritted your teeth, the burn in your legs almost unbearable. "I'm trying," you managed to gasp out, your breaths coming in ragged bursts.

"Trying isn't enough," he snapped back. "You either do it or you don't. Now give me ten more!"

With a frustrated growl, you summoned every ounce of strength left in you, pushing against the resistance of the machine. Sweat poured off you, dripping onto your décolletage, glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. Your body was a study in tension, muscles straining, every fiber of your being focused on completing the set.

"Eight... nine... ten," you counted aloud, finally locking the weights back in place. You collapsed against the seat, your chest heaving, muscles trembling with exhaustion.

Bakugo was immediately in your space, his presence as overwhelming as ever. He crouched down, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with a mixture of pride and challenge. "You did it," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But you're not done yet. Get up."

You groaned, the thought of more exercise almost unbearable. But you knew better than to argue. Bakugo's training methods were brutal, but they were effective. And you had a point to prove, both to him and to yourself.

He led you to the next station, a set of free weights. "We're gonna work on your shoulders now. I want to see perfect form, or we're starting over. Got it?"

You nodded, gripping the weights with determination. Bakugo's eyes never left you, his scrutiny both motivating and nerve-wracking. As you lifted, you could feel his gaze burning into you.

"Keep your back straight," he instructed, moving closer. His hands brushed against your skin as he adjusted your posture, sending a shiver down your spine. "Good. Now, lift."

You followed his lead, lifting the weights with as much precision as you could muster. Every muscle in your body was on fire, but you refused to back down. 

"That's it. Keep going," he urged, his voice softer now but no less demanding. "I want ten perfect reps."

You lost yourself in the rhythm, each lift a battle against your own limits. The sweat continued to pour, dripping off your chin and landing on your chest, mingling with the fabric of your tank top. 

Finally, you finished the set, dropping the weights with a triumphant gasp. Your body was exhausted, every part of you trembling from the exertion. But there was also a sense of exhilaration, a rush of endorphins that made the pain worth it.

Bakugo stepped closer.

For a moment, you thought he might critique your form again, push you for another round. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away a bead of sweat. "You did great, Y/N," he said quietly, his voice a rough whisper. "But don't think this means I'm going easy on you next time."

You smiled, a sense of accomplishment swelling in your chest. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Suki."

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something more intense passing through them. "Good.”

Before you could respond, Bakugo's lips were on yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. 

You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands gripping his muscular shoulders, feeling the strength and heat of his body.

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your lips. "Shower. Now."

You nodded, unable to form words, your body already responding to the command. The journey to the locker room was a blur, your mind focused solely on the promise of what was to come. 

The familiar scent of sweat and the sterile cleanliness of the gym's showers greeted you as Bakugo practically dragged you inside.

You stripped off your clothes.

Bakugo was quick to follow, his eyes never leaving your body. “Fucking hot as hell,” he commented, licking his lips. 

There was no shyness between you; the raw attraction was too overwhelming to allow for any hesitation. 

Inside the shower, the steam enveloped you both. The water was warm as you stepped under the spray.

Bakugo couldn't help but steal glances at your toned figure, his eyes tracing the contours of your muscles as they flexed beneath your skin. You, in turn, couldn't resist sneaking peeks at his powerful physique, the water sluicing off his rippling muscles.

Bakugo's body was pressing against yours from behind. His hands were rough, calloused from years of hero work. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his broad chest as his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck. 

Bakugo's lips traveled down your neck, nipping and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear. 

You moaned, your head falling back to give him better access. 

He took full advantage, his tongue tracing a path down to your collarbone before moving further still. His fingers found your hardened nipples, teasing them into peaks as his mouth closed around one, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. 

You gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Bakugo smiled against your skin, switching his attention to your other breast as his hand slid down your body.

Your breath hitched as his calloused fingers brushed against your clit, the sensation almost too much to bear. 

He began to circle the sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you squirm. 

The teasing motions of his fingers had your legs shaking, threatening to give out beneath you.

Sensing that, Bakugo wrapped his strong arm around your waist to support you, his grip possessive and firm. With his free hand, he guided you closer, your bodies now pressed tightly together. 

The feel of his hard cock pressing against your stomach, made you gasp, and you reached out to gently brush the pads of your fingers against his mushroom tip.

He let out a hiss while his fingers continued their expert ministrations, sliding easily through your wet folds. He increased the pressure, his movements more insistent as he focused on rubbing your clit with his thumb while his middle finger teased your entrance. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice a low, husky growl. "You like this, don't ya, bitch?”

You could only nod, your voice lost to the overwhelming sensations. 

He slipped a finger inside you, then another, curling them just right to hit that sweet, spongy spot. 

Your inner, velvety walls clenched around his digits. “Suki,” his name fell on your lips like a mantra.

The intensity of your orgasm was almost too much to handle, your vision blurring as you were consumed by the release. 

Bakugo's mouth found yours once more, swallowing your moans with a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue danced with yours, the kiss wild and unrestrained.

Finally, he slowed, his fingers slipping out of you, leaving you feeling both satisfied and achingly empty. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. "You look so fucking beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire as he brought his fingers up and tapped them against your lips.

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, welcoming his fingers in. The taste of your own, sweet juices on his fingers was intoxicating, a reminder of the pleasure he had just given you. You met his gaze, your eyes dark with desire as you licked his fingers clean, savoring every drop.

Bakugo's eyes flashed with something primal, his breath hitching as he watched you, jerking his cock with a free hand. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice low and rough. "You're gonna be the death of me."

The hot water cascaded down your bodies, washing away the sweat and grime of the training session.

With a fierce kiss, he lifted you up.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the hard length of his erect cock pressing against your wet folds. Your core throbbed with need, and you rocked your hips, seeking friction. “Shit.” You looked into his crimson eyes, silently giving your consent.

Bakugo's breath was ragged as he reached between you, positioning the tip of his dick at your entrance, running it up and down through your folds. "You're gonna regret challenging me," he muttered, his voice thick with desire.

"Oh, Suki," you moaned, his name a plea on your lips.

"Say my name again," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

"Katsuki," you repeated, your voice trembling as you wrapped your hands around his neck.

With a powerful thrust, he entered you, the sensation both painful and pleasant. The feeling of being filled by him was overwhelming, and you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

You gasped out an "Oi!" as he started moving, thrusting into you, allowing his cock to drag back and forth against your sensitive fold whenever he was withdrawing, feeling your hands grip his shoulders and your breath panting against his neck.

The sound of water, mixed with your moans and his grunts, filled the shower. 

Bakugo's pace was relentless, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force. 

"Fuck," Bakugo groaned, his movements becoming more erratic. "You're so tight."

The rock of his hips picked up the pace, thrusting in the heat of your pussy as if you had not fucked in weeks, even though it had only been a day. It just felt too good to be inside you, thrusting and grinding, the slap of his hips against your mound filling the bathroom with lewd sounds. Bakugo grunted. “Yeah, fuck.” He thrust in and out, in and out, feeling your pussy stretching to take his cock, getting wetter and wetter with each of his thrusts.

Katsuki pounded into your cunny with a vengeance releasing his pent-up frustrations with each massive thrust. He grunted and panted as he plowed deeper and harder, slapping his body against yours until suddenly he stiffened as an exquisite, convulsive explosion ripped through him. As he exploded deep into your quivering pussy, he felt your echoing response as your body milked the cum from his cock with the force of your own orgasm.

“Katsuki!” you raked your nails down his shoulders, gasping for air.

Soon, the pro hero felt the second load building up, the tension coiling in his body. He gripped your hips tighter, his movements becoming more erratic. Within a minute, he shot another load of thick cum deep inside your quivering pussy. The sensation of his release sent you spiraling into another orgasm, your body clenching around him as you cried out his name.

“Katsuki!”

You were both breathing heavily, the air thick with the scent of sex. 

Bakugo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, languid kiss.

When he finally pulled out, a mix of your juices and his cum began to drip down your trembling thighs, leaving a trail of slick, glistening evidence of your shared ecstasy.

After you finally stepped out of the shower, toweling off and getting dressed, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bakugo. 

"Don't get too comfortable, Y/N,” he announced with a smirk, catching your gaze. "We're back in the gym tomorrow. No slacking."

[naburi]

LET’S CLEAN UP

KARINA X READER

TAGS: GYM, EXHIBITIONISM, TEASING, MASTURBATION

1.5K WORDS

Long pitch black hair, white pale skin, dangerous curves that can lead you to hell, soft body that feels like heaven. You have been a member of this gym for 3 months now, you heard different rumors about how fine this young woman is, you don’t believe the rumor until you’re looking at her eye to eye alone in the gym.

She’s always wearing a mask, sometimes adding a cap, and wears baggy clothes to conceal her seductive parts but how long can someone hide their busty mounds, they lightly bounces in her every walk, her big front always revealing itself no matter her clothes. They said she’s trying to not attract any unwanted attention but her body does the opposite. That busty body takes all the eyes in every vicinity it occupies, they said when she’s around, men only do two things, they either try to keep their glances discreet or they try to lie to themselves that they are not distraught by how one woman can be that sexy. For everyone, her body is the perfect distraction.

She’s a former trainee who gave up on her dreams due to how dark the K-pop world is. They hear rumors about how small companies tried to take “advantage” of her while big companies tried to make her “audition” with a promise of debuting with their girl groups. Some say she’s too sexy for K-pop, that her body is made to be seen in a different “industry.” These rumors pique curiosity in all the minds of the gym members. They all wanted to see if there’s any truth to these rumors, regular gym members said they saw her during office hours, some say they saw her late at night, it seems like she’s actively avoiding crowded hours in the gym. Some say that these stories about this woman are just a hoax to attract more people to go to this gym. You believe the latter because if she’s real, she should be famous or trending in this social media world we live in.

Tired eyes but can’t seem to find sleep, it’s 3 am but your body feels more awake than ever, you decided to tire your body to sleep and hit the gym real quick. Driving on, you expect to see at least a few people in these early hours. When you arrived at almost 4 am, you saw a few cars in the parking lot. Sliding your card and entering the exclusive 24 hours gym, only background gym songs are the only thing that welcomes you. You walk around to see if there’s any people with you. It seems like you have the gym by yourself which actually excites you. You rush happily to the locker room to bring down your things, suddenly you hear the automatic doors open. You humorously get annoyed by the fact that you can’t enjoy the gym by yourself now, until you see the silhouette of who shares the gym with you.

Long pitch black hair, white pale skin, wears a face mask and baggy clothes that forms around a busty body. This is the first time you have seen this person, the sudden realization hits you. The rumors, the rumors about a woman, a woman who is now in front of your eyes. You're trying to keep your glances discreet because you don’t want her to creep out by you. Both of you doing some stretching at the same time, you're a few feet away from her, you saw yourself looking at their reflection through the big gym mirrors, which she quickly noticed. You got embarrassed how she caught you looking at her. After you both finish stretching up, you move to the dumbbell rack to lift some light weight first, she moves to the treadmills to do some light cardio first. She started to walk and you noticed the light bounces of her mounds, the mirror in front of her only gives you a better look of those bounces. You’re trying to do your workout but this woman is too sexy to keep lying to yourself so that you are not distracted. After doing some dumbbell raises, the only thing you can do is to stare at her, it seems like your body is more honest than you.

She’s now doing light jogging, those mounds are bouncing even more. She’s wearing a large white shirt trying to cover her large mounds, her bottocks are also forming out of her large shirt with every jog she takes. Your eyes are glued to every curve of her, it takes you a minute to realize that she’s also looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. Your stares can’t hide their intentions, you want to see more of this woman, there’s a lot on your mind and none of them are morally right. You want to see more of her which excites her. She’s finally done with her treadmill warm which feels like an endless runway walk. You saw her smirk after turning around to move to the barbel rack. Looking at you to make sure she still has your attention, she removes her white shirt showing a gray tight shirt which reveals boobs that are made to be sinned. How those boobs shape, how they paired perfectly to her lustful body is what makes it Dangerous.

You're still stuck at your seat, still can’t believe what you’re witnessing. She’s now positioning herself to do RDLs, her ass infront of you, she leaning forward showing how those massive boobs are hanging down to her slim body. As you rise up, while torso is going down, your getting overwhelmed by the doggy positions filling your head, this distraught shows in your face which she happily saw, each movement she did feels more sluttier than the early ones, its seems like your in a trance with how her body moves. She moves inside the barbell rack, positioning to a barbell squats. Putting the bar on her back, she moves her butt straight down, stretching her black pants to conform to her busty ass, the thought riding you while slamming that ass to your dick. Made you caress your dick over your tight shorts, you didn’t care is she saw you touching your hard dick, her body made you unable to think properly, seeing her face in the reflection, you saw her give a head nod, you know what she was signaling to go on, but you don’t want to be wrong. Her seeing you hesitate made her look dissatisfied, this pushed you to rushly touch your dick again, she gave you a nod again, she’s now waiting at what you're about to do. You put your hands in your shorts to rub it. This made her smile for a while but she stares at you trying to indicate something. She wants you to let her see how you can’t control yourself around her.

You move down your shorts which made your dick sprung out in hardness, she put the bar on the rack, now she’s the one watching you. You move your hand from up to down slowly, letting her see how hard she made you feel. She gives a signal again, she wants you to let it out how horny she made you feel. You start to beat your hard dick while keeping your eye contact with her. She’s also getting hot from the scene she’s looking at, she starts to touch those busty boobs over her tight shirts. She put two hands on the side of her boobs squishing both of her inwards, she put her hands under her boobs pulling the massive pair upward to give you a better perspective how big they really are. This makes you hornier, you want to stand up to touch them yourself but she stops you with a threatening glare. She’s setting boundaries you can’t cross or else she will stop the session. You sit down again which she rewards you for. She pulls her shirt up to reveal a sweaty sports bra that keeps the seductive boobs to show its true beauty.

She pulls down her bra revealing a glistening massive boobs, it’s more than you can imagine, the sweat which looks like oil made her boobs more erotic, how her boobs have the roundest of shape, how her boobs might be the best pair of tits you ever laid eyes on. She's looking straight at you while making a circular motion touching her erect nipples. The sight of you beating your dick harder made her play with her nipples more and starting to pinch them, her erotic face while she’s touching her boobs made your body even hotter. She sits down at a nearby gym bench, resting her back, groping one of her tits while inserting one into her mouth, she’s sucking and licking her tits like she’s craving for it. One of her hands is touching herself over her pants. How her slim fingers made her boobs that much massive, her body sweating due to how hot she feels, how heavy she breathes as she’s having the highest of her libido. This sight of a woman touching herself made you have the best climax you ever had. You sprut it all over the gym mat, some still flowing out of your dick. Your head rests back on the bench, you're sitting and letting your high go.

“Let’s clean up”, are the first words you heard from her.

[harrysfolklore]

i’ve always loved the piastri sis lore because the sibling dynamic is so healthy but just to switch it up a little bit in the tiny verstappen!sis universe i can imagine her skipping out on the WDC celebrations with max and be with charles instead and max is a little mad at her at qatar until kelly knocks sense into him 🥰

verstappen!sister was one of the first f1 fics i ever posted 🥺🥺 its kinda heartwarming that you guys still remember it and want to read more about them! it was nice to take a dip into that little world agai, i hope you like this!

READ VERSTAPPEN!YN HERE

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred through as you rushed through the paddock, your heart torn between two directions. Behind you, the thunderous celebration at Red Bull's garage continued – your brother Max had just sealed his fourth world championship. Any other day, you'd be right there, spraying champagne and screaming until your voice gave out.

But right now, all you could think about was Charles.

You found him in the Ferrari cooldown room, still in his race suit, head in his hands. He looked up when you entered, those green eyes stormy with frustration.

"Mon coeur," he whispered, and despite his evident pain, his lips curved into a small smile at the sight of you. "You're here."

You crossed the room quickly, wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your neck, breathing deeply. "Of course I'm here. Always."

"I had it," he mumbled against your skin. "I had the pace, the position... everything. Then they called me in at the worst possible moment—" His voice cracked slightly.

You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I know, baby. I watched the whole thing."

Charles pulled back slightly, cupping your face with both hands. "You should be celebrating with Max, though. It's his championship. I don't want to take you away from that."

"You're not taking me anywhere," you said firmly, pressing your forehead to his. "I choose to be here."

He kissed you softly, gratefully. "Je t'aime. What did I do to deserve you?"

"Existed," you smiled against his lips. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

As you were leaving the cooldown room, hand in hand with Charles, you nearly collided with Max in the corridor. Your brother was still in his race suit, championship cap askew, smelling of champagne and victory.

"YN?" His voice was smaller than usual. "Where were you? Everyone was asking... we were all celebrating and you just disappeared."

Guilt twisted in your stomach. "Max, I'm so sorry, I—"

"She was with me," Charles said quietly, squeezing your hand.

Max's face fell slightly, though he tried to hide it. "Oh." He looked between you both, jaw working like he was trying to find the right words. "I thought... it's the championship, YN. Our fourth championship."

"I know," you said, stepping forward to hug him tightly. "And I'm so, so proud of you. You were incredible out there. But Charles needed me."

Max returned the hug, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. When he pulled back, his expression was complicated – hurt mixed with resignation.

"Sure, whatever. Stay with your boyfriend." He shook his head, jaw clenched. "It's fine. Not like it's my fourth world championship or anything."

The sarcasm in his voice cut deep. Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you and Charles standing in the corridor.

The next morning, you found Max in the hotel gym, pounding away at a treadmill despite probably being hungover from the celebrations. You knew your brother well enough to recognize when he was working out his frustrations physically.

"Max," you called out softly.

He didn't look at you, just kept running. "Shouldn't you be with Charles?"

"Can we talk? Please?"

He jabbed at the treadmill controls, slowing to a stop. When he finally turned to face you, his expression was guarded. "About what? About how you ditched your own brother's championship celebration to comfort your boyfriend? Because he finished P4?" He grabbed his towel, wiping his face roughly. "Real nice, sister."

"That's not fair and you know it."

"Kelly already gave me the whole speech last night, you know," he said, "Something about 'understanding love' and 'being supportive' and how she'd do the same for me."

"And?"

"And I told her she's supposed to be on my side," he said, but there was less heat in his voice than before. "She just laughed at me."

You sat down on a nearby bench, and after a moment, he joined you. "I'm still mad," he admitted. "And it's still weird as hell that my sister is dating Charles bloody Leclerc of all people."

"Could be worse," you tried. "Could've been Lewis."

"Don't even joke about that," he groaned, but you caught the tiny smile he tried to hide. His face turned serious again. "Kelly made some good points though. About how she'd choose to be with me if I was struggling after a race, even if it meant missing something important. Still doesn't mean I like it."

"I really am sorry about disappearing like that."

"I wanted my sister there," Max's voice cracked slightly. "You've been there for every important moment in my career. Every single one. Until yesterday. It's like ever since you started dating him, I'm losing my little sister bit by bit."

"You're not losing me, Max. You're my brother, nothing will ever change that. But Charles...I love him."

Max was quiet for a long moment. "You really love him that much? It's that serious?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "It is."

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I still don't like it. And I'm still mad about yesterday." He paused, then added grudgingly, "But I guess I need to get used to sharing you. Just... don't disappear on me like that again, okay? I had to listen to Helmut asking if you were sick or something. Do you know how awkward it was explaining that my sister was too busy consoling a Ferrari driver to celebrate with us?"

"Did you actually tell him that?"

"No, I told him you had a headache. You're welcome, by the way." He paused. "But seriously, YN. I get that you love him or whatever—" he made a face at the words, "—but you're still my sister."

"And you're still my annoying big brother," you leaned against his shoulder. "So... fourth championship, huh? Getting a bit boring now, isn't it?"

"Never," he grinned, then added more seriously, "Would've been better with you there though."

"I'll make it up to you. Plus, there's still family dinner tonight."

"Yeah, about that..." Max's expression turned mischievous. "I might have told Mom to make that really spicy Indonesian dish Charles couldn't handle last time."

"Max!"

"What? If he's going to be family, he needs to build up his tolerance," he said innocently. "Besides, it's payback for making me miss my sister at my championship celebration."

"You're impossible."

"Yeah, but I'm a four-time world champion impossible brother," he smirked, pulling you into a headlock like when you were kids. "And don't you forget it."

[lunamochii]

xavier's version, zayne's version

"You wanna lick my what now?"

Rafayel cock his eyebrows up, lips curve into a amuse smile. To think that you would say it loud, you can die in humiliation now.

"It's nothing!"

"Saying that you wanna lick my sweat ain't nothing, dearest."

He got off on the treadmill and walk towards where you are doing your own exercise, he stands infront of you and eyed your gym wear. His eyes following the sweat that trickled down from your chin to your neck.

Without saying a word he put his sweaty hands on your hips and dips his head forward, licking your sweat then move away. He smirk at you and pulled your body towards him

"Salty. Although I prefer tasting something other than your own sweat."

He whispered and lick your ears, his hands slowly massaging your ass then move one hand to slid inside your shorts. You let out a soft moan when his fingers glide over your slit.

"Rafayel.."

"Shhh.. you're fine, baby."

Rafayel gave your lips a quick kiss before kneeling down, your shorts pulled down along with your undergarment. He groans seeing how puffy your pussy is, you grab on the nearest pole as your legs wobbled when he lick your thighs.

Pressing open mouth kisses on your thighs, you whine on the way how he teases your begging cunt making his lips hover over it before moving to kiss the other side of your thighs

"Goddamnit babe, wet for me?"

"Yes, wet for you Yel'"

He smiles and lick a strip on your clit and it made you jolt away but he held your legs firmly, slinging one leg over his shoulder

"Be a good girl and stand still for me."

He says before closing the gap between his mouth and your glistening cunt, your hands flew to your mouth but he slap your thighs and you immediately move your hand away

"Fuck- such a obedient doll."

He presses his face more to your cunt, as if trying to get drunk on your juices. It's salty and sweet at the same time. Your sweet juice mix with your sweat, he had you begging for more as he lap and suck on your pussy.

Rafayel open his eyes and look directly at you, the way your jaw slacks and how you try so hard to grab for support, legs wobbling is making him want to fuck you dumb.

Dumb for his cock.

"M'cumming!"

You shout but when you were this close on reaching your high, he move away and stood up, letting your leg drop down the floor. Before you could protest he grab your jaw and kisses you fervently.

His three fingers replacing his mouth and you thrash around his arms as he fuck your needy cunt with his fingers.

He will fuck you later with his cock. For now, he wants you to cum on to his fingers.

"C'mon~ didn't you say you were cumming?"

He teases and kiss the tears away from your eyes, your legs clenching around his arm as he curl his fingers inside. You let out a loud moan of his name when he finally found the sweet spot inside you. And Rafayel is no gentleman, he abuse it, until you were a babbling mess before him

"Ah! I-I love you hmm- Rafayel~"

You lean in and lick the sweat off of his neck then move your head on to his arm and did the same thing. His glad that you're too high right now to notice how his ears are red as fuck.

"Naughty girl."

He bit your ear and fasten the pace with his fingers and you're back moaning his name, he felt you clench and he did it more harder and faster

"Rafa- ahh hnngg!"

Your nails dig right on to his biceps as you came undone on his fingers, he didn't stop pumping it letting you ride your high down. Once you're done, you slump into his chest as you catch your breath

"Are you okay, pretty?"

"Yeah, I am..."

"Good, cause I ain't done yet."

He kiss your cheeks and rubs his bulge to you and you just know that there will be no workout anymore for today.

[xomakara]

Baby Don't Stop

SUMMARY | You run into your old college crush, Johnny Suh, at the gym after ten years. You used to hook up back in the day, and sparks fly again. To celebrate Johnny's birthday, you go out for drinks with friends, but the night takes a turn when you confess your feelings for each other. PAIRINGS |  Johnny x Reader RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked GENRE |  smut, romance, birthday, old flames, random fluff/comedy  CONTENT/WARNINGS | nightclub vibes, profanity, drinking, flirting, teasing, birthday sex, unprotective sex, public sex, oral sex (both male/female receiving and giving), fingering, marking, shoulder biting, hair grabbing, creampies, daddy kink, breeding/impregnation kink LENGTH |  12,974 words TAGLIST |  @lovetaroandtaemin NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Thank you to both @unholywriters, and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-reading this.I really appreciate the both of you for reading this! Thank you @aaagustd for the gorgeous banner! I appreciate you all so much! Happy 30th Birthday to my man, Johnny! 💚💚

NCT Main Masterlist

"Hottie alert!" your friend darts her eyes in the direction of the man that just walked into the gym, but you ignore her gaze and keep running at your current speed, steadily jogging on the treadmill. 

It's as if your sole purpose for existing is just to get the hell on a treadmill every day and then promptly leave. You start slowing down, your mind beginning to wander as the smell of sweat and metal engulfs your senses, and your feet pounding the black material begin to slow until the belt under your feet comes to a full halt.

"Okay Miss Hot Bod," Misun rolls her eyes. "Can you stop exercising long enough to even check a guy out once? You know you need to get laid, babe."

"I don't need your help with that," you quip and shake your head.

"Well obviously, but seriously, look. He's totally your type," Misun points across the room, where he stands in a loose sleeveless tee. His biceps are well defined; his left arm adorned in tats, and he runs his fingers through his dark hair while holding a water bottle in his other hand. "That man's body is literally the definition of fuckable. Look how sculpted he is!"

Okay, you have to admit he is very easy to look at. As you stand there, your breathing slowing and the buzz of the cardio still surging through your veins, the dark haired man looks across the room right in your direction and suddenly, time feels like it's crawling as Misun's words echo through your head. He cocks his head in acknowledgement of his surroundings, as if he were trying to pick out exactly where you were amidst the sea of equipment.

You know this man from somewhere, but you can't put your finger on it. It isn't until he gets up, sets the bottle down on a mat and strides over towards you, and you spot the sunflower tattoo on his left upper forearm that recognition slaps you in the face.

Johnny. 

Johnny fucking Suh. 

The boy that was the object of your crushes back in college. But he was no longer a boy; the past decade had been kind to his body, and the subtle changes between a younger Johnny and an older Johnny just made your panties want to slide off and flutter to the ground.

He’s still as tall as you remember him being, but instead of being lean muscle, he now has a slightly larger frame to fit it. His facial features haven't really changed, but everything is just a bit sharper, a little more rugged. The moment Johnny spots you, his mouth gapes in disbelief. He chuckles, breaking into a wide grin and quickly enveloping you with a bear hug.

"Y/N! Long time no see!" He steps back, his eyes roaming the rest of your figure. You've gotten more confident than your younger self, and your gym gear only serves to highlight just that. Your form fitting workout gear leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, and Johnny's eyes rake over every curve on your body. He lingers a fraction too long on the tight sports bra stretching against your chest, trying his best not to blatantly stare. He grins and breaks the silence. 

"Wow! I mean, holy shit you look so... so different," he compliments, clearly surprised at the change since the last time he'd seen you.

Back in college, the two of you used to fuck around every once in awhile; never anything serious though. You didn't have any real commitment to one another. You'd go to frat parties together, and you'd sometimes go out with mutual friends. You'd dance a bit, and you’d fuck each other silly once the alcohol kicked in, but nothing more and nothing less. And there was certainly a point in time where you really started to fall hard, because deep down you knew that you were hopelessly pining for him. But, you knew better. Johnny didn't do relationships, and Johnny certainly didn't do serious, at least not that's what you gathered, and you never felt like it was really worth bringing up either.

"Different in a good way?" you tease back.

"Oh yeah, a very good way," he checks out the new you one more time before breaking the gaze. "Wow, the past decade did you good."

"I could say the same about you, Suh," you shoot back, meeting his stare. You scan over him just as he did to you. Time and life has definitely treated him well. "Gosh, you've gotten so-"

"Different?" He laughs. "Yeah. The past few years have done my body good; the diet's improved, the job is stressful, but..." Johnny pauses for a minute and smiles fondly, and you notice the glimmer of nostalgia flicker in his eye as memories flash through his mind. He thinks for a while before speaking again. "Anyway," he breaks into a big grin and shrugs. "The past decade hasn't been half bad."

 "How's life treating you?" you ask him.

"Well I'm back in Seoul permanently now, so that's pretty exciting," he nods and greets you with another easy, kind smile. "You still hang out with Doyoung and the guys?"

"I hang out with Doyoung's wife more than I do with him now," you pointed at Misun and she waved back. You laugh softly. "But yeah, I see the guys every weekend. We're all doing well. Pretty settled down and all."

"Doyoung's married? Holy crap," Johnny's eyes widen and it's a surprise for him to hear. He bites his lip and raises his brows. "How'd I miss that?"

"Life is pretty fast, dude," you grin.

"And you? Are you married?" Johnny tilts his head. "Couple of kids?"

Your face heats up slightly. Kids and marriage were the last thing on your mind right now, and you definitely had no partner. "Nope. Definitely single right now, and zero kids."

"I bet guys would be lining up for miles to have you," he answers. You swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth and look at Johnny for a moment. Perhaps his way was just complimenting everything and everyone, and he meant nothing by his words. That's the most likely case. 

“Nope,” you chuckle. “I don’t see a line anywhere.”

"Good, because I'm gonna ask for your number," his gaze is stern and full of resolve, a mischievous smirk playing upon his lips.

"Huh?" you ask him, feeling a slight lump form in your throat.

"I'd really like to go get a cup of coffee sometime, if you're up for it," his voice is earnest, and he grins widely before speaking again. "Maybe get with the guys some night for drinks? It's not everyday you come back and bump into the old crew."

Ahhhh, he wants to catch up with the old gang. Of course he wants to catch up with everyone and relive the college days or something. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.

"Yeah sure," you mumble and dig your phone out. Johnny passes you his and you both add your contact information. "That would actually be a lot of fun."

"Let me know a couple dates that work for you," Johnny says in his silky smooth voice. "Or, let me know what days you're free. If it's during the work week, we can even get dinner after we finish up late at night."

"O...kay, I'll let you know,” you said.

"Sweet. Well it was nice to catch up," Johnny beams and starts walking in the other direction. He suddenly stops, spins, and turns back around. "Don't be a stranger, yeah? Give me a call whenever!"

"Yeah..." you nodded.

Johnny gives you an eager nod before taking his leave. As you watch his sculpted back muscles through the fabric of his loose shirt, Misun runs right over to you.

"Aghhh," she screeches excitedly, almost kicking her leg in an attempt to demonstrate how excited she was. "He totally hit on you!"

"Did he, though?" you tilt your head and smile slightly, grabbing your gym bag, before heading to the bathroom. "We kind of used to hang out with the same circle of people and—"

"Wait—so you already knew him? He's not just a guy you met today?" Misun follows you out, nearly stepping on your shoes because she's following your every movement like a hawk. She stares you down as if she were trying to dissect your body right there in the locker room, like a science experiment gone horribly, horribly right.

"We've sort of been casually acquainted since my college days," you explain as you pull your leggings off. "He's one of your husband's friends. Not someone I'd say he’s super close with, though. Just casual acquaintances."

"You guys fucked, didn't you?" Misun presses, her eyes bulging out of her eye sockets.

"Hey hey hey," you put a finger over your lips and lower your voice, checking the surrounding area for other people in the vicinity. You confirm the coast is clear before continuing, but you continue to whisper, nonetheless. "Keep it down will you?"

Misun smacks her lips together as a cheeky smirk spreads across her face. "Damn."

You begin changing out of your gym clothes before speaking again. "To be completely honest with you, Misun... Johnny was probably the most attractive guy I was ever with. By far. In fact, he's probably the most attractive guy I'll ever be with..." you say a bit melancholy, trailing off as your mind drifts back to those wild college nights.

"Then why the hell haven't you hit that in like a decade then, hon? I mean damn," Misun places her hand over her heart and you can practically see the gears spinning in her brain. "He's hot. You're hot. It's a win-win."

"Things are just...complicated," you answer vaguely, but you know exactly what your friend's picking up on.

"Darling," Misun wraps an arm around your shoulder. "Life is complicated. Relationships are complicated. But sex is the easiest thing ever to understand. I promise."

You simply wave her comment off and close up the door to your locker. Maybe she has a point, but you honestly don't know how you should feel. Things were so much simpler back when you and Johnny first hooked up. Back then, no feelings were involved, and everything was clear and defined. Now? Who the fuck knows.

All you could think about at that moment was Johnny. Johnny's body, Johnny's grin, Johnny's laughter, and everything in-between. There's an awkward tightening sensation in your core, and you shake your head. This isn't something that would normally bother you. Sure, you found him hot back in college, but the lust was purely physical. Something felt...different this time.

And, something about Johnny has changed, and you know it. Maybe it was just that time itself had changed, maybe he'd matured since your early twenties. Maybe the dynamic between you and Johnny would be entirely different now.

"Johnny's back in town," Taeyong tells you and Doyoung over lunch one day as he sips his americano.

You swallow your bite and nod. "Yeah, I know. I ran into him at the gym."

"What?" His eyes grow wider than saucers as he puts down his coffee cup. "No way!"

"Yeah, Misun was there," Doyoung laughs and gives you a cheeky look. "My lovely wife saw Johnny and Y/N make googly eyes at each other before exchanging contact info."

"Oh?" Taeyong raises his eyebrows and perks up in interest. "What happened next?"

You shove another piece of chicken into your mouth and sigh. "We exchanged numbers."

"AND?" both men yell impatiently.

"We. Exchanged. Numbers," you make a large circle with your hands in an exasperated fashion and then stare at both of them. "He wants to catch up with everyone, that's all. Go get a drink, reminisce about our younger days."

"Damn," Taeyong swears and laughs. "That's disappointing."

"You two would have such beautiful babies," Doyoung mutters.

"Who's gonna have babies?" Jaehyun cuts in, carrying a tray of drinks.

"Our darling Y/N and Suh," Taeyong explains, putting the last bite of food in his mouth. "Wanna go get drinks with Johnny and our lovely Y/N sometime this week?"

"Johnny's back in town?" Jaehyun seems intrigued.

"He’s here to stay," Doyoung looks at Jaehyun with raised eyebrows. “Y/N and Johnny exchanged numbers.”

"Oh, really?" Jaehyun looks mildly interested and smirks as he places your drink down in front of you. "You're hot. Johnny's hot. Good call. Hook it up."

"I literally think you guys are reading into this waaaay too much," you sigh and shake your head. "It was not even close to how you're putting it. No chemistry involved."

"Johnny Suh wouldn't have gotten your number if he was the sort of man to 'just catch up' with old college friends," Taeyong argues, making an air quote gesture.

"FINE," you roll your eyes. "Well, he asked me for coffee. BUT," you interject quickly and put a finger up when they're all ready to burst. "That doesn't necessarily mean he's asking me out on a date! Coffee doesn't necessarily mean romance."

"Uh, it totally does!" Taeyong cries, Jaehyun snickering along with him. "How do you think Misun and Doyoung got married? They brewed their love."

Doyoung slaps a hand over his face and rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath.

"Who are you and what have you done with the Lee Taeyong I once knew, God-knows-when, from God-knows-where," you grimace at his horrible choice in word play.

"Say it, Y/N. You know I'm a hundred percent right, and you can't deny it," Taeyong goes on. "How do you feel about Suh?"

"It's been ten years, Taeyong! What should I even say? Do I even have the same feelings for him as I had back in college?" You roll your eyes.

"Maybe? Maybe not. Only you know. But... Do you?" Doyoung folds his arms and glares at you.

You throw your head back, running your hands across the side of your hair. You make a dramatic gesture of screaming silently while the boys sit back and wait, leaning forward as they anticipate your answer. You stop making a ruckus and shoot them a defeated, resigned look, your shoulders slumping, your mouth drooping, and a little twinkle sparkles in your eyes.

You purse your lips together. "Possibly. Maybe. A bit."

"I mean," Jaehyun started, "you guys did fuck for a good year in college—"

"How did you know that!?" You feel the embarrassment color your cheeks.

Jaehyun bursts out laughing. "Who didn't know? You guys were fuckin' around a LOT."

You sink lower in your chair, sinking your teeth into the flesh of your lip. Of course they'd have known.

"So what's the problem then?" Taeyong presses for the details. "You're single, right?"

"Yeah but..." you sigh. "What if he's not? Or what if he's with someone right now?"

"He's single," Taeyong points at you with a decisive air, nodding with pride. "I asked."

"Why am I not surprised, you little gossiping bastard," you fold your hands across your chest. "Of course you asked."

"Anyway," Taeyong shakes his head. "Think of it this way. Say you get your little date on. If nothing comes out of it, then no biggie! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. But, if anything happens… if," he puts a hand to his heart, "if a wonderful spark ignites between you and Johnny… then wouldn't it have been worth trying?"

He does make an excellent point.

Johnny's wearing a button down silk shirt, open to the fourth button so his sharp clavicle and smooth, flawless, chest were peeking out. His leather pants were molded around him; the expensive belt showing off just how defined his waist was. He sits back in his chair and gives a hearty laugh as Haechan talks animatedly, gesturing and using both of his hands for emphasis as he recounts a story about Jaehyun pranking Taeyong.

You're sitting next to him, his arm draped casually against the top of the chair you're sitting on, a smug, playful smirk dancing across his lips, and his eyes flashing and sparkling under the light of the low lit room. You try not to stare at how well dressed he is, how nice the scent of his cologne is and how he looks like an absolute snack from this proximity. It’s difficult not to notice just how nice looking this man is. It's been more than ten years since you've been near one another, after all. And the past decade has been exceedingly good to him, that much was evident.

It was Johnny's birthday celebration; the crew wanted to go out and give him the greatest time, since he was back in Seoul after so long, and Johnny was the type to really enjoy himself when surrounded by good company. Dressed in a long, skin-tight black dress that dipped low in the back, showing the length of your spine and cut to expose one leg up to the upper thigh, the crew went hard for this bar crawl night and they went all out for Johnny. 

When Yuta suggested this nightclub and sent everyone the address, the boys responded with immediate acceptance, while your immediate reaction was pure disbelief. You hate nightclubs; you were never interested in them. This was never your scene back in college, let alone right now. Sure, you loved a nice drink after work, and you've been dragged to enough bars with your friends, but you were not remotely interested in this clubbing scene.

There are too many sweaty people, a plethora of obnoxious dudes trying to pick up girls, and so much wasted energy. Why not just go to a bar where you can have a more relaxed vibe and a way better selection of drinks? That would be a better fit for you, really. You can have a drink, lounge, and enjoy music that is quiet enough to allow you to hear your friends’ voices.

But nope, here you are. Surrounded by a sea of people who are half-naked, grinding or shouting about the lack of people grinding against them. You felt old in the sea of young bodies in here, so out of place in a world filled with loud music and zero room to talk to anybody, given the loud and throbbing base filling the entirety of the room.

"Hey Y/N," Johnny leans in and whispers right into your ear, his breath warm and tickling.

"Hmm," you try to keep it casual, even though his sudden movements have put you into an unannounced trance.

"Wanna get out of here?" He's closer to you now, his soft lips barely even brushing against the outer shell of your earlobe.

"Excuse me?" your face heats up a few degrees, wondering if what you're thinking is what he means, or what you're hoping for.

"We're going to hit another place," Jaehyun says from your other side.

"The vibe here is awful," Johnny groans. "Let's go somewhere more chill where we can all just talk."

"I knew this club thing was a bad idea. I should've fought Nakamoto on his decision," you get out of your seat and smile in response. "Plus it's better for Doyoung. We don't need any single birds flirting with him. Misun's liable to punch somebody in the face if anyone gets close."

Everyone chuckles as you all head out. Yuta merely shrugged when you told him about changing locations and led the crew out into the evening air, looking for a new bar to go to. The whole lot of you move at the pace of Jaehyun and Johnny, whose strides are equally long, as they attempt to seek a spot of their liking. After passing a few establishments, you find yourself nearing a lounge with a slightly different ambiance, one that doesn't reek of desperation and wasted energy. It was relatively quiet when you got close, and the interior looked cozy. You instantly liked the change in scenery and noticed how your tension melted away.

Everyone shuffled inside, pushing tables together.

"C'mon babe, you're sitting over here," Misun gently coaxed you into the seat next to Johnny, which just makes you wonder what she's scheming now, what new ridiculousness has filled her mind. "This place has a way better atmosphere, right?"

You had to admit, this was a much better choice than the night club that Yuta brought everyone to earlier. This was cozy and just loud enough for everyone to be heard without needing to yell their lungs out.

"Y'know..." Jungwoo starts, getting your attention as you lean forward across the table. "I don't think Yuta was really trying."

Everyone, except Yuta, started guffawing in unison, and Doyoung did his best not to fall off of his stool.

"To be fair," Yuta stands in the corner, attempting to defend his character, a pout forming upon his lips. "I didn't have time to go scout a location out! Work's been busy! Cut me some slack."

"First rounds on you then," Mark cracks up, slapping Yuta hard on the back.

"Feeling better already, babe?" Doyoung gave his wife a quick peck before speaking and patted the seat to his left.

Misun nodded eagerly and took the offered seat, watching you and Johnny with intense interest, a far too satisfied grin playing on her lips.

“This place is nice,” Misun started. “It’s intimate and cozy. And the sound levels here are great. Perfect place for a little celebration.”

You give Misun a questioning glance but you decide to shrug and leave it at that for now. Besides, this wouldn't hurt anyone.

"First things first!" Yuta announced after everyone got comfortable, raising a glass high. Everyone paused and gave Yuta their undivided attention. "A toast! To Johnny, Happy Birthday again!"

You grab ahold of your drink and raise the glass high into the air to follow the boys.

"Cheers!" everyone shouts and the sound echoes throughout the space as everyone takes a sip of their drinks.

"Thanks, man, really," Johnny grins widely, patting Yuta's shoulder and shaking his friend's hand. He faces you and locks your gaze. "Now that we're not deafened by shitty club music, I just wanted to say how great it was to see you all again. I really did miss this."

Everyone's beaming at him with their hearts on their sleeves. Even you.

"I never stopped missing you guys. Truly," he raised his glass and everyone mimicked his gesture. He holds his cup out to toast, the smile on his face wide. "Now let's take it easy and catch up."

You spend hours laughing, reminiscing, and recounting old stories. Misun's stomach hurts so badly she can't help but lay down on Doyoung's lap, rubbing at her stomach, with tears coming out of her eyes as she tells Haechan and Jungwoo not to make her laugh anymore.

Johnny's presence is intoxicating and comforting; his hand is placed across the back of your chair throughout most of the night, only removing it to grab drinks or help pass things across the table.

He's exactly as you remembered from college: warm and charming. So goddamn easy on the eyes. His timbre was so delicious, you wished that he'd whisper sweet nothings to you, hold you in his embrace and tell you you were the most beautiful woman in the entire world. And maybe his kisses were exactly as sweet, perhaps even sweeter, as they once were back in the good ol' days.

You notice that Misun was talking to one of the employees, whispering, glancing at you and Johnny every now and then, but you honestly can't bring yourself to care. Not tonight at least. Not when Johnny's near you, especially, because no man has ever looked at you the way Johnny Suh does tonight. You can feel those brown pools devouring every inch of you as you converse with the rest of the crew, hanging off of everyone's every word.

Johnny's intense gaze has always made you feel self-conscious, yet exhilarated. He looks at you like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen, and it's captivating. Reconnecting after a decade, you realize these feelings are rushing back. The Johnny from college is different from the man he is now; he's matured in every sense of the word.

"You don't expect me to really believe that you met Johnny at the gym, right?" Mark asks, a giant grin plastered on his face as he wondered how you ran into Johnny after all this time.

"I didn't plan anything at all! I was just working out! I swear!" You raise your hands, palms facing up in innocence, and chuckle as you see the curious and expectant looks on their faces. "I can't control what random encounters my life brings, you guys."

"It's true. I saw her running on the treadmill and came over. Completely unplanned and innocent," Johnny's cool demeanor is calm, but he still has his typical Cheshire cat-like smile plastered onto his face. "Are we done being grilled here? Or are you all gonna keep up with this interrogation?"

Everyone laughs and turns their attention to their new round of drinks that just arrived. The lounge started to get rowdy and loud, the quiet, ambient area turned into a hotspot for those who wanted some post-work release. There were throngs of office people, students and party goers filing in. It was much different from the peaceful, mellow scene just minutes ago.

Misun's grinning like a fool when you stand up. "And where are you off to?"

"Bathroom. Give me a sec," you answer.

She gives you an enthusiastic thumbs-up and watches you walk across the length of the table. Misun and Doyoung slide a keycard in Johnny's direction, nudging their heads toward your receding back.

"What's this?" Johnny frowns slightly, grabbing it in his hand as the couple tries their hardest not to stare.

"Our present to you," Misun answers smoothly, Johnny raising his eyebrows. "We all know that you and Y/N used to have a... thing. So, we figured, you deserved to celebrate in private, without any company."

Johnny looks around at the group. "You guys all know-"

"That you and Y/N hooked up for a full year?" Mark cackles. "Well, duh. We all know. Not really sure how you two think you could possibly be lowkey or discreet about it."

"How could we miss the looks the two of you have been giving each other or the times you both snuck off campus on some weekends?" Jungwoo chimes in.

"And you thought we didn't know?" Yuta rolls his eyes and laughs.

"The worst kept secret of your life, if you ask me," Taeyong added with a laugh before slapping his back. "Reconnect, man. Who knows? Maybe sparks could reignite."

"That would be fucking wild," Haechan laughs as a fresh set of drinks is laid upon the table and clinks his glass with Mark's.

"Johnny!" Yuta smacks Johnny's shoulder. "Don't let another decade slip by wondering what could have been."

"Go to the private room and make out or something," Taeyong wiggled his eyebrows. "And whatever happens afterwards is totally none of our business."

Johnny stares at the card again, eyeing the shiny material before shooting a confused gaze back at Doyoung and Misun. "I... really don't know what to say. This is unexpected, honestly."

Doyoung smiles. "If anyone deserves something this nice, it's you, Johnny. Go get her, man."

After returning from the ladies room and taking a brief moment to fix your lipstick in the mirror, you check the time and see the numbers, 9:45pm. You run your hands over the black dress and fix your hair, spraying a bit of perfume before exiting the bathroom and re-entering the busy lounge.

Your eyes wander about the space and see everyone else standing up and conversing as you make your way back. The lounge has become noisier, packed with several bodies, more than you anticipated it to have, but it wasn't as loud or stifling as the last place. You shuffle and slide around to navigate through the masses, spotting the crew around the table. Johnny stood out like a sore thumb with his tall, sculpted figure, and even if he didn't, Misun caught your gaze, making a point to shove the guys to the side and call you over.

You let out a small laugh as you joined your friends.

"Where were you? You took so long," Misun gasped, lurching a bit forward, dramatically pulling you down to sit into your original spot.

"Took forever to line up in the bathroom," you roll your eyes and chuckle at her as the guys slide a drink in your direction.

Misun smirks, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "Are you wearing sexy panties or boy shorts tonight?"

"Oh, no," you pull away and glower, giving a slight laugh. "Don't even start."

"You're not gonna give Suh a show tonight?" she presses, pouting.

You smirk and try not to burst into laughter. You decide it best to not tell her that you didn't think it was gonna happen in the first place, and that her efforts will be fruitless anyway. You smirk, take a deep breath and say, "You're crazy. Why would I do that?"

"You're wearing perfume, you've fixed yourself up..." Misun answered.

"Misun, look around," you gesture around the venue. "There's plenty of girls out tonight. This place is a real hottie central," you say, watching some girls clad in skintight dresses and very high heels saunter by in an attempt to not sound offended by her insinuation. "I was literally in the bathroom. Why wouldn't I wear perfume or freshen up?"

Misun playfully frowns, but continues to gape at you as Doyoung checks something on his phone and reaches out to grab his glass, gulping his cocktail.  "I wanna dance," Misun gets up and tugs Doyoung off of the chair. "C'mon hon, let's go have some fun."

"Behave," Doyoung kisses his wife on her nose before following her onto the small dance floor. Everyone else seemed to scatter, leaving you and Johnny to be the last ones remaining at the table.

"And then there were two," he remarks, bringing his beer to his lips to take a swig, a smirk curling upwards.

"Looks like it," you reply, taking your own cup.

"I'm not complaining, not in the slightest," Johnny says, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. His thigh now lightly brushes against your leg. "I missed this. Just spending time with friends."

"No girlfriends or lovers back home, Johnny boy?" You ask, glancing at the man, who smiled.

"Nah, it hasn't really worked out in that department... at all. Kinda just me right now," his laugh was music to your ears. You try not to focus on his large frame beside you, or his muscular thigh pressed up against you, or the way his cologne smells so good up-close.

"Really now?" you laugh. "Handsome like that, body like that. Surely the girls must be all over you back in Chicago. So you never had a chance?"

"They're out there," Johnny admits. "I guess I'm picky. Plus," he gives you an intense look, tilting his head forward, as his leg moves and presses against yours in a way that wasn't accidental. His hands slide to his lap. "I haven't had anyone I liked for a while now."

"For some reason, I just don't believe that..." you laugh, finding it hard to maintain eye contact now. 

"What about you? I find it hard to believe that no guy has snatched you up." He leans in further, turning to face your direction now. "What's the story behind your single ass?"

"I never found that spark, I guess. Plus work's been hectic," you respond, sucking your lower lip in.

"Life works in mysterious ways, huh?" His smile is endearing and gentle. "So many people cross our path every day and you never know who it could be, really." He pauses, and puts a hand on yours, which had been resting against the side of the table. His fingertips send jolts through your body.

Johnny's touch was electric. His fingers, his entire hand envelopes yours, leaving you at his complete mercy.

"Maybe you'll end up meeting someone again? The perfect match?" he added, his hand not moving or leaving yours.

"That would be nice," you said, and took a large swig of your drink. You give him a friendly smile and laugh to yourself, relaxing as the pounding music and the vibrations start to drown out everything else in the lounge. You notice a few younger women eyeing your handsome companion with interest, shooting furtive glances and hopeful smiles his way. Their body language is easy for you to pick up on; you're no novice at this game.

Johnny catches sight of the girls who are looking over at him and does absolutely nothing about it. In fact, his hand snakes across your lower back and his fingers are pressing into your back with a possessive grip, not even bothering to acknowledge any of the women gawking his way. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his strong, firm hands massaging your lower spine.

"Oh?" You turn your gaze away from the girls and stare at him. "They seem very interested."

"They got nothing on you," he replies smoothly, and a dangerous glint appears in his eye, and then he's slowly and methodically raking his gaze over every part of your exposed skin. "Absolutely nothing."

You felt heat coiling within your gut as he did this.

"Even after a decade?" You blink rapidly, cheeks burning. You down the rest of your drink, hoping that the booze would quell the emotions rushing through your body.

Johnny leaned closer and locked your gaze. His scent, a delicious mix of his own natural musk and expensive cologne, invades your nostrils and a shudder rolls up and down your spine. The intensity of his chocolate brown eyes left you a bit speechless and frozen in place.

"A decade is such a long time," he murmured, reaching his free hand over and gently resting his palm against your cheek. Johnny's expression, and voice, turned a bit tender. "But to me, you're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, and nothing has changed that. Maybe I'm biased," he chuckles and you couldn't help but reciprocate his sweet laugh, leaning in and enjoying his closeness. "But there's no woman that comes anywhere close to you. You've held my attention since day one."

"What am I supposed to do with you, Suh?" you cock an eyebrow his way.

"Anything you want," Johnny takes his free hand and moves it to brush his thumb lightly along your cheekbone.

"What if I wanted to...continue this..." your throat goes dry and you feel a lump in your throat as you swallow your fear. "Where would we even begin?"

"Right here," his words are just as smooth and confident. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure, what is it?" you ask, blinking and waiting in anticipation.

"I fucking miss this. Spending time together, talking, laughing. I've missed you," his thumb gently rubs circles along your cheekbone, making you shudder under his touch. He begins to shift again, allowing his free hand to rub up and down your arm in slow strokes.

His touches weren't necessarily foreign, but it's been a damn decade of no Johnny contact. It felt like years of pent up electricity had just exploded in your heart and your belly, and all you could do was stare at him in response, hypnotized by him. 

"I fucking miss you too," you croak, and lean into him for a kiss. 

His lips meet yours, slowly and softly, before they move and become more hungry and fierce, just as they used to be back in college. You feel his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips and teeth, deepening the kiss, making you moan in pleasure as he savours the sweet taste of your mouth. Your body wants him more, desperately needs him after all these years. You don't pull away from him because it feels too damn good, so you reach both arms over his broad shoulders as if he was going to leave.

"Fuck," he groans in frustration, pulling away abruptly and abruptly breaks off the kiss, gasping for breath, forehead leaning on top of yours. "I miss kissing you."

You stay in place, enjoying how it feels to be in his arms, surrounded by his presence. You watch him fiddle with the empty glass, his hands busy, his focus entirely on the beverage in front of him. There are a few moments of silence, allowing the music of the bar to fill your ears. The light sounds of chatter and music of the bar carry their own rhythm as they blend into an enjoyable soundtrack to the night.

"So…" you begin again, searching his gaze, searching for an indication. A sign of where to take this.

"Why did we stop?" he muses, shifting again and crossing one leg over the other, still rubbing circles on your lower back with his fingertips. "We could have worked it out back then."

"You didn't do relationships, remember? Not your type," you try to remind him gently, reaching for another sip. 

"Did I say that?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Among other things. Lots of other things," you admit and shift in your chair so you could better angle yourself to face him.

"But did you know you were the only girl that I hooked up with for an entire year?" Johnny turns, facing you and presses his hand lightly to your thigh. "Don't get me wrong," he's quick to clarify. "I dated loads. But...You. It was just you, that whole year."

"What are you saying, Johnny?" you blinked.

"I'm saying..." His deep chocolate brown eyes search yours as his words form slowly. "That maybe... Just maybe... You were more than just a fuck to me."

"Pause. Rewind, go back. Rewind ten steps. Because I'm quite sure I heard you wrong," you joke.

"Come on, babe. Seriously. It was only you," Johnny reiterates and he brings his thumb back up to your cheek, stroking your cheek again, softer, gentler and slower, giving you more time to take it all in. His hand holds your jaw gently as he presses his lips back to yours, sweet, sensual and slowly building to a burning, aching desire. "After that year, no other girl could live up to what you gave me. I didn't bother anymore after you. I... It just wasn't the same."

"Oh, come off it, Johnny," you snorted and rolled your eyes, brushing off his comment.

"It's the truth, baby," he grabs your chin gently, and his brown eyes seem so sincere. "And I hate that it's taken me ten years to realize this," Johnny breathes. "But fuck me, if that's not the truth."

His lips connect to yours again,his tongue finding its way inside and licking the sides of your mouth, swirling and caressing until all you can taste is his beer and his want for you, while his fingers travel upwards and weave their way through your hair. His breath catches and he presses his forehead to yours again. Your heart races at his declaration, beating madly in your ears, like a drumbeat pounding against your chest.

You bite down on his lower lip and he moans deeply in the back of his throat, sucking it between his own teeth. You sigh contentedly as he kisses the sensitive spot under your chin, letting you nibble at his neck and ear, tracing his features with your fingers as though he would vanish and disappear like a shadow.

The air surrounding the two of you has heated up, and so has the tension that hangs between your bodies. His hands roam freely underneath your clothing, running fingers and palms up and down your body as if he has every right to. 

"Want to get out of here, get somewhere...more private?" he mumbles, voice low and hoarse, vibrations transferring through the heat of the embrace to your lips, pressed against his collarbone. You feel light-headed and hazy as the effects of the alcohol and the hot atmosphere are really starting to sink in.

"God yes," you breathe, barely even pausing. The throb between your legs hasn't let up; in fact, it's almost gotten worse now. And as much as you enjoy the flirtatious banter and light teasing, all you can think about is just how badly you want to be touched right now.

He grabs your hand and leads you up to a private room with tinted windows that spanned from the ceiling to the floor, a beautiful view of the city to be taken in. You follow him, buzzed enough to be ready to go wherever and do whatever, confident and unafraid.

"When did you manage to reserve this?" you asked him as he closes and locks the door and turns to you, eyes glinting.

"Apparently Misun planned this. She talked to the owner, told them it was my birthday, and this private room was ready and set up for us," Johnny gently comes up behind you and slides his strong arms around your middle, kissing the back of your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder. "We can go elsewhere if you want. I just want to spend some alone time with you. No distractions and no prying eyes."

You turn to face him, and his beautiful chocolate eyes have grown darker. His face has taken a stern,serious expression. It sends goosebumps down the back of your arms, butterflies straight to the pit of your stomach, and a sharp ache through the depths of your belly. 

"Let's stay here. This is good. It's private," you whisper. You turn away from him to face the view of the skyline, his embrace feeling warm and secure.

He holds you like this for several silent seconds, kissing the shell of your ear gently while you look out. Neither one of you dares to move; you both are at peace and enjoy the feeling and presence of one another, basking in it, letting yourselves indulge in it.

"I have to admit something," you whisper quietly as he holds you close.

"Hm?" he hums, playing with your hands and swaying your hips, embracing his body even closer to yours.

"Back then, you said no attachments and no feelings," you sigh, not daring to look him in the eye as you think back to when you last saw him in college. "The thing is, that whole year that we were hooking up... that whole year, Johnny, I was crazy in love with you."

You hear him inhale and squeeze your body tight, fingers gently digging into the fabric of your dress. You stay still and feel the warm puffs of air blow across the back of your neck as Johnny processes. After a moment, you feel him press a long, gentle kiss on the back of your neck, hands roaming across your skin, leaving tingling trails of goosebumps in their wake.

"We can take this however you want. If you're just looking for something casual, I'm okay with that," he whispers with a hint of a chuckle. He kisses you softly and continues, "But if you're open to something more... if you'd give me another chance..."

You turn slowly in his arms, meeting his warm, caramel-colored gaze. The city lights twinkle behind him, highlighting his chiseled features. He cups your face gently in his large hands, his eyelids lowering at the closeness. "I'll always go at your pace," his voice drops low.

Your hands land on either side of his face and you draw him close, feeling his body melt against yours. "Let's pick up from where we left off, 1o years ago. But this time," you pause and give him an affirmative smile before leaning into his awaiting lips. "I want all of it, Johnny. The dates, the sex, the arguing, the compromising and the intense makeup sex, waking up next to you and feeling like home. All of it."

"Fuck, me too. I want it all, all of you," he grins as his words dripped from his mouth and onto your lips, holding your body tightly to his.

"Oh my god, stop talking and kiss me already," you whisper into his lips.

The moon shines, hanging above the busy streets and city buildings below, lighting up the sky with an ethereal glow. The low rumbling of cars moving down the city streets and people mingling and dancing the night away is distant; the two of you are lost to your own world, content to explore each other with your hands and lips.

Your breathing turns ragged, hitching every time his lips attach to a particularly sensitive spot. He backs you up, slowly, with his arms wrapped around your waist, until the backs of your thighs meet the wall and his broad torso, pinned tightly to yours.

"When's the last time I told you, you're gorgeous as hell?" He says in your ear, nibbling his way down the side of your neck.

"ten years ago? God, stop talking. We've wasted so much time already," you breathed, tangling your fingers into his hair, earning a pleasured groan from the man.

You feel his hot tongue laving over the smooth flesh and relishing how your back arches, your breathing getting heavier. Your pulse raced when he found a certain spot beneath your ear, near your collarbone, that made you let out a weak little cry when he sucked and kissed it. "Feels good?" he mumbles into your skin.

"Very," you hum, placing your hands on the solid chest and shoulder muscles he's grown since college. His once lithe and lanky frame, replaced with solid muscle and definition, a jawline that could cut diamonds, and eyes dark and filled with desire. "Age has really been good to you."

Johnny laughs, and it reverberates against your body, shaking the two of you with its deep vibrations. "Says you. You grew up a lot."

He trails one hand up to the fabric covering your breast and kneads one, plucking at your nipple until you gasp.

"They've definitely gotten a little fuller," Johnny rumbles into your ear, "If I recall correctly." His tongue darts out and traces a path up from your collarbone, hot and wet, swirling against the vein in your neck.

All you can do is let out a whimper in affirmation and dig your nails deeper into his back. Your body is trembling beneath his touch, the delicious feeling of his mouth latched onto that area of your neck, sucking and nibbling the soft skin until he's had his fill. Your head rolls back and the noises escaping your throat become desperate; you claw at his shoulder blades and groan again and again.

"I guess that hasn't changed," he teases with a smirk, voice rumbling across your skin in waves.

"Oh fuck," your entire body trembles, "You've always been able to get me to beg for you. Way too well."

He pulls away from the wet patch of flesh between your neck and shoulder with a small pop and leans his head against yours, trying to slow his breathing.

"Can we continue this someplace with less...window?" Johnny mumbles after a long period of comfortable silence. His deep chocolate brown gaze is languid as his hands caress up and down the side of your body, savoring every curve and edge. "Not that I wouldn't totally have sex in this room with you... But a bed would definitely be more ideal for us, no?"

"Because we're old?" You chuckle. "Sounds about right. We should take our old asses somewhere more comfortable and quiet."

"Who are you calling old?" he murmurs, laughing into your lips. "We're just mature," he insists as his tongue runs along the crease of your lips, gaining entrance.

"Old," you retort back with a gasp and then laugh, feeling his teeth clamp onto your tongue lightly. His laughter is low, rumbling deep from within his chest, resonating off your own and mixing.

"Will you spend the night with me? Back at mine? I mean it. All of it," Johnny clarifies. "Mess around? Curl in bed. Wake up and cuddle? I've missed cuddling you," his face becomes serious, turning from teasing and flirty to longing and sincere, with a gentle tenderness showing across his eyes and face. He brings his hand up to cup the side of your face, staring into your eyes, searching, willing for you to agree.

"I don't know if I can wait, I kind of just want to jump you right now," you respond back.

"Yeah?" Johnny huffs out a laugh, looking around the private room. "Right now?"

"I mean, there's a couch right here," you joke and tilt your head to the cushy leather sofa sitting at the side. "Can I at least suck you off here, and then we go back to yours to continue the night?" you ask softly, slowly pushing him backward towards the seating. "Then maybe," your hands land on his belt buckle, gently slipping your thumbs between the leather strap, pulling it away from his body and giving you the chance to remove the metal piece. "Maybe later we can take our time? Go slow or fast, soft or hard...in your bed..."

"Fuck. Sure, sure. Anything," Johnny responds breathily, not putting up any resistance as he is guided back onto the leather seating, scooting backwards until his back is resting against the cushion. "Whatever you want."

Your eyes drop from his, and your eyelashes flutter softly, focusing on the belt unclasping, buttons being opened and the zipper being slowly lowered.

"Jesus christ," Johnny's voice is hushed. "How do you still fucking do this to me? Even ten years later?"

Your heart melts at his statement, and you pull yourself closer and wrap your fingers around his waistband, peeling the material down his hips and freeing his thick member, causing Johnny to audibly groan when his erection sprang out, now pressed tightly against his stomach.

The smell of his intoxicating musk fills your nostrils, and your head immediately becomes woozy. Your heart picks up, almost skipping a beat, and the rush of blood starts to make you dizzy. You've almost forgotten the effect his cock and his arousal had on you. The thick vein underneath and how it'd pulse against your hand. The swollen, red tip and the liquid pearl leaking out.

"Damn, I missed this cock. So fucking much," you whispered before lowering your head to give the leaking tip an experimental kitten-lick.

"Fuck," his legs twitch from the action, and he bites back a curse. Then he growls, "Go ahead, put those pretty lips around me like the good girl I remember."

Without another word, you flatten your tongue at the base of his member and slowly move up towards the tip. He stiffens further and his breathing picks up and his pupils dilate, enraptured with watching you.

With half lidded eyes, you lock gazes with him, never once looking away as you begin to lower your mouth onto him. He twitches slightly as you swirl your tongue around him, bobbing up and down at a steadily increasing pace. A bit salty, but also fresh and earthy, your taste buds get an alluring hit, just a small sample of what he would taste like when you have him completely. Your nails gently dig into his outer thighs and he sucks in a breath, trying and failing not to buck up into your hot, slick heat.

"Feel better than you remembered?" You tease.

"Mmm, the same and different," he replies. "A lot…dirtier than you were back then."

"Yeah?" Your hand grips the shaft and begins pumping up and down the velvety hot length, thumb running up and down his length, pressing your fingers into the areas you know drive Johnny crazy.

"Baby," he hisses in a low, throaty grunt, eyes sliding shut, languidly rolling his hips and driving further up into your hand. He enjoys the smooth, tight pressure, and the way your grip firms when his cock grows to its fullest, leaking thick beads of pre cum. You swallow and suck, hollowing your cheeks as you swirl your tongue in an obscene motion along the leaking head. "Baby, don't stop. God, that feels good. Just like that."

With a sly, glinting look, you press open-mouthed kisses and long licks to the sides of his cock and balls. With your free hand you slowly reach out to rub over the spot behind his testicles, massaging and stroking, and you drag him back into the present with the touch. Johnny makes an involuntary jerk and then quickly relaxes back against the seat. Your stomach flutters with anticipation, unable to stop the wide smirk spreading across your face as you enjoy this, having his hot length stretching your lips wide and stuffed down your throat. His groans sound like music to your ears.

Johnny threads his hands into the locks of your hair as the only warning you would get before yanking your face against his groin and keeping you in place as his cock jerked inside the confines of your cheeks, sending a thick white ribbon of semen straight to the back of your throat. You feel his hot sticky cum coming up to coat the back of your throat, spurting it straight down. His hips rock in erratic jerks as his hand wraps itself firmly around the back of your neck, rubbing comforting little circles onto your skin.

"That's my girl," Johnny coo's sweetly. "Swallow it for daddy." He watches in arousal and satisfaction, enjoying the show, as you open your mouth and stick out your tongue. It’s covered with ropes of thick white cum, and there's some lingering inside. But you did a thorough job of swallowing his load down like you always did.

"Daddy?" you question with a playful eyebrow raised. "That's a new one."

"We're older now," he remarks and leans forward. Johnny wipes at the corner of your lips, cleaning the remnants off your face, as well as the trail of saliva and his arousal that are pooling at the edge of your lips. "It would have been weird for a twenty year old me to ask a twenty year old you to call me daddy. Ten years later, older Johnny can't help himself," Johnny admits with a goofy grin.

"Fair, though. We are thirty. Older and wiser," you shrug your shoulders as if agreeing. "It's kinda hot."

Johnny shoots you a pleased grin. "Good," is his only response before helping you tuck him back into his underwear and pants. His eyes wander back to your red-swollen lips and a low chuckle comes out. "Shit, you look so tempting," he admires, getting a hard-on all over again at the mere thought. "Do you want more, baby?"

"Yessir," you whine, feeling his lips drag wet and languid all across the sides of your exposed neck. "Let's go back to your place and do something about this," you whisper, grabbing the edge of his hand and pulling it gently to your wet core. "I feel empty without you, and you're the only thing that'll fix it. Think you're up for the task, Daddy?"

"Fuck baby, I think I just got even harder," Johnny growls, desire surging through him at your bold, straightforward statement.

It didn't take long for Johnny to close his apartment door with his foot and roughly shove you against the wooden material, hand slithering through the inside of your thigh and tugging up, urging your leg around his hip as his fingers bury themselves between your drenched folds.

"God you're soaked," he moans into your collarbone. He peppers you with kisses as he slips his fingers under your panties and against your dripping core. You groan and drop your head back. He shoves his tongue down your throat when his long index finger finds and begins to rub in small circles at the swollen bundle of nerves, drawing a raspy moan from your chest.

"Tell me what you want," he demands huskily into your mouth. "I'm not moving unless you say it."

"Johnny," you grind down against the finger, seeking out more friction and chasing after the feeling of being pleasured by his touch, a sensation you have missed for over a decade and had forgotten just how addictive it could be. You whine, desperately trying to keep your balance on one foot, still holding onto the fabric of his shirt in your hands, trying to find a way to let out your frustration. "Please!"

"Mm? I'm listening..." he hums with a smirk. His chocolate brown orbs have darkened and gleamed with hunger. Johnny presses his palm against your pelvic bone and applies more pressure. "Come on. You can do better than that. What do you want daddy to do?" he asks. "Use your words baby girl. It's not very nice to keep me waiting, now is it? Especially not after all these years and a special birthday celebration for me."

"Johnny..." his name is a moan falling past your lips.

"Yes, that's me. What do you want, sweet thing?" He coos. "Come on, tell Daddy. Tell me what you've been wanting for ten years," Johnny keeps his hand and the rest of his body still. The only thing moving, continuing its stimulating assault on your poor aching core, is that damnable, tortuous finger rubbing back and forth.

"Fuck me," you hiss in reply, grinding against his hand with abandon.

His breath catches in his throat and you watch him visibly react at the admission, eyes clouding over and narrowing on your figure pressed tightly against him, against the door. "Say it again," he repeats.

"Fuck me. Fill me up. Put your dick in me. Do whatever the hell you want. But do it already!" Your words spill from your lips frantically in desperation and he complies, immediately, lifting you up by your ass, feeling you instinctively wrapping your legs and arms around him, and depositing you onto the bed.

He undresses himself before collapsing on top of you, a broad smile adorning his flushed features as his strong hands brush away the hair from your face.

"If I remember right," he begins, mouth dangerously close to yours, sharing breaths. His forehead rests against yours, and his eyes flutter shut, bringing a hand down and slipping two fingers back under the fabric of your underwear, pressing his knuckles against your swollen bundle of nerves, alternating between pinching and stroking.

 "You're sensitive," his breath dances across your skin as his skilled digits work at building you back up. "Here especially," he states and kisses your parted lips, coaxing his tongue against yours in a tender, sensual way that does little to quell the throb in the lower region of your belly.

You gasp as his middle finger finally slips between your drenched lips, he swirled your arousal around your entrance before gliding upwards.

"And this," Johnny draws his hand back, staring intently into your blown-out eyes while his fingers disappear inside his mouth. A guttural sound that seems like a cross between a grunt and growl rolls from his throat, sucking his own fingers. "Tastes just as good as the last time. Ten years have done nothing to ruin your taste."

"Johnny..." you gasp.

"Yeah baby, I'm here," he wastes no time shimmying your dress down to your waist, nipping along the valley of your breasts. Your fingers grip at his hair and a giggle leaves your lips.

He lifts himself from the valley of your chest and sits up, face hovering above your own. One of his hands reaches out to cradle your jaw and gently hold your chin. The thumb of his other hand slips into your mouth, forcing your lips to part further. "Suck."

A burst of something feral awakens deep inside you, and your gaze becomes dark, needy and craving. You part your lips further and roll the soft pad of his thumb around and along your teeth, swirling your tongue, drawing circles and moving up and down across its width.

He inhales sharply as the same feral emotion, the need and want, passes through him. You look absolutely angelic with those hooded eyelids and the sinfully lustful look in your eyes, locked onto his. 

"Let me eat you out," Johnny finally breaks the spell, breathing labored as he loses the fight to maintain the upper hand. "And after that, I'm gonna bury myself deep inside of you and fill you up just like how you asked me to, again and again until morning. Until both of us can't fucking stand,  walk straight or form coherent sentences. Can I?" he rasps.

You simply nod your head enthusiastically. "Yes," you croak. "Please Johnny."

Johnny lets go of the finger in your mouth and drags down the soft swell of your breast, leaving red welts and hickies in his wake. With a satisfied grin, he presses a kiss to the mark and continues trailing the wet trail, dragging your dress all the way down and pulling your soaked panties off.

"Here baby," Johnny taps a finger against your inner thigh and lays flat on the bed, positioning his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. "Thighs, please," he says in a commanding tone and the hint of authority causes a gush to form between your thighs and coat them.

You bite your lip and make no objections and instead position yourself, your thighs pressed against his shoulders, his head positioned comfortably in between, and then his tongue is on you, and your brain short-circuits. You couldn't remember ever being as close or feeling this turned on, the feeling of being completely raw and vulnerable. He adds his two thick fingers alongside his tongue, probing and exploring, and in combination with his sucking mouth, they are expertly playing your pussy like a fucking symphony.

"Good?" he looks up and licks a broad, long stripe, pausing to wrap his lips around your bundle of nerves and then moves back down to tease around your hole. "Tell daddy. How does my girl feel?" He slowly pushes his fingers deep in you and presses and rotates against a particular spot inside, causing you to shiver involuntarily.

"Don't stop!" you demand hoarsely.

"Gonna cum for me?" he continues languidly and brings up his thumb, massaging it gently into your clit in tight, circular motions. "Is my baby going to squeeze her thighs around my head and choke her daddy? Let him suffocate in her cunt?"

"Oh fuck," his lewd words have your insides squirming. "So good, don't stop, just...ugh, keep, just.."

"Your pussy tastes so fucking good. Wish you could see this pretty thing drippin' in front of my face. And the way it's dripping wet," a loud slurp sounds. "So perfect. Would stay between these legs all day. Missed eating this pussy, feeling it pulse against my face as I got it to cum all over me. Goddamn, you feel so perfect," Johnny exhales out another strained grunt, losing his mind, eating you with an unchecked thirst, lapping, biting, and kissing his way around your insides like a starving man, drinking every last drop. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you firmly against him as your thighs try to squeeze him and shut his face between them.

One hand grabs a fistful of the back of his hair and you push him up closer between your legs. The fingers of your other hand reach up to steady yourself against the headboard and brace yourself against his savage ministrations.

"Right there, please!" your voice cracks at the strain, rolling your hips into his face. "Mm, yes. Y-you're so good with your fucking tongue," you let out a keening moan, gripping the back of his head tightly. You can feel him laughing against your skin, fingers still thrusting and scissoring inside you. Your hips thrust upwards with no rhyme or rhythm.

The tell-tale fluttering against his fingertips causes Johnny's tongue to speed up, focusing on your bundle of nerves, and rubbing it until a long, drawn-out whine falls past your lips. "Yes! Oh fuck. Johnny!"

"That's it, sweetheart," his encouraging growl rumbles straight through your sensitive body and has your stomach flip-flopping around the best orgasm you've had in years. "Good girl, ride the waves for daddy. Cum for me. Let me see you fall apart," a grunt escapes his lips, his muscles tense against you. "Wanna feel you like this everyday. Wanna be your fuck toy, wanna be the only one between these legs and in this pussy and your mind. Use me however you fucking want, baby."

Johnny rides you through the waves of orgasms, slowing his movements but not stopping. It takes a while before your lungs work again and before your heartbeat settles from being in your ears and into your chest. When you finally calm, Johnny lowers his mouth from your pulsing sex and offers an endearing chuckle at the state he left you in, still recovering and struggling for breath, sweating with limbs spread out and panting.

"Now tell daddy," his voice is low, taking the position above you, leaning all his weight onto his hands and looking straight at you. His eyes are so intense, you could drown in his dark, fiery chocolate irises. "How does she want to be fucked tonight?" Johnny leans in closer, the tip of his cock rubbing against you. "She can have me anyway she'd like," he languidly thrusts forward, once. Twice.

The wet noises your arousal is making and the light buzz coursing through you from the previous orgasm, combined with his relentless teasing and talking has your mouth working on its own. "I should be asking you since this is a special day for you. It's your birthday, what do you want, old man?"

"Just you. You’re the gift, and that's enough for me," he exhales a low, soft groan at the sensation.

"Sappy," you croak, mustering a soft huff in between breaths and smiling as his shaft glides into your wet, heated folds.

"Baby, if it means I could stay this way," his fingers tap at the spot right above your pelvis and press. "This close and deep in you," a groan escapes him at the thought of what the future could possibly hold. "I want to spend every damn birthday I have inside you." His breath tickles your nose, and his lips graze against your ear before planting a searing, hot kiss against the pulse point. "Think we could make that happen?"

"Depends," your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, holding him flush to your hips and you shudder against the sensation when you feel the length of him drag deliciously across your walls.

"On what?" He asks, fully seated within your slick warmth.

"Whether you could keep it up and give it to me like I like," you taunt back in a husky voice.

"Watch your words," Johnny growls in a warning tone, unable to hide his amusement. He picks up his pace, fucking you deeper into the sheets, as your fingernails dig into his back and shoulders.

"Come on Daddy," you purred against his ear, leaning over to graze his cartilage with your teeth, delighting in his short grunt. "Fuck your birthday present as hard as you can. This gift is not going anywhere," you waggled your eyebrows and couldn't resist, placing your thumb against the tip of his nose and swiping it. "That is, unless you're too old..."

His eyes narrowed. "Guess I'll just have to shut that smartass mouth of yours. Because, oh baby, it's gonna be a long night."

He thrust into you deeply, bottoming out.

"Mmph!" you moaned against his shoulder, struggling to breathe at the sudden overwhelming fullness.

"We'll start with you being quiet," Johnny shifts the position, grasping your leg and guiding it higher up his waist, allowing his hips to sink lower. "That's right," his breathy voice pants against the skin of your neck, licking his way towards the hollow space at the base. "Be good, be quiet, or you won't get this cock back until you've learned some manners."

This was different, so different from the young Johnny. You whimper quietly, as your mouth refuses to form words to respond, choosing to bite into the fleshy part of his shoulders to stop the string of sounds, your lips are unwilling to be controlled.

"Much better," there's no mistaking the pleased tone in his voice.

In this position, his thrusts feel deeper than before and are a much slower, drawn out pace. There's more control. You can't do a single thing except grasp at his muscular arms and hang on as he works on destroying you completely, and he enjoys every moment. Johnny keeps at an almost painfully slow pace, grinding deeply into you before withdrawing excruciatingly slowly, until only his swollen head remains in your opening.

You turn to whisper an endearingly loud "Fuck," in his ear when his large hands seize your wrists and pin them together above your head, and he stops thrusting completely. "Nuh-uh." his nose brushes against your neck.

"What are the rules?" Johnny inquires smoothly. "I won't move a muscle unless you tell me."

"Johnny...I can't.." you gripped his shoulder. "Feels so good. I don't know if I can keep quiet."

"Try for me, baby," he murmurs in response. "Try, and I promise, it'll be worth the wait," Johnny re-assures. "And then our next round, I'll have you screaming and moaning whatever obscenities you want. All you have to do is try to be a good girl, keep quiet while I ruin you for any other cock but mine. Can you do that, sweet girl?"

All you could do in response was nod desperately.

"Good girl," he says and the phrase lights you up inside in a way that's not humanly possible to handle. He then goes back to fucking the ever living shit out of you, increasing the intensity and pace. The sound of the mattress squeaking, the groaning, the banging of the bedpost against the wall, your quiet whimpers and Johnny's filthy grunts fill the air.

"Fuck!" Johnny lets go of your hands and grabs hold of the headboard to brace himself, pounding mercilessly into your slick pussy. "God I love you. You have no idea how much I've missed this pussy, missed you." His forehead rests on the side of your jaw, lips tracing along your exposed throat. "Go ahead, baby. Make all the noise you want."

At the explicit permission, your hand reaches up and clasps onto his arm. Johnny hears the soft inhales of oxygen leaving your lungs. Your heartbeat pounds in your chest at the overwhelming feeling. It wasn't going to take long. 

"Close," you manage to squeeze the words out in a broken croak, slithering your fingers into his sweaty tangle of hair.

Johnny entwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending a surge of warmth through you. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky, "look at me." 

You look at him, your breath getting trapped inside your lungs. With a deliberate brush of his fingertips against your skin, he picks up a strand of loose hair. You could never grow tired of the sight of his long eyelashes fluttering, gazing lovingly and tenderly at you as if you're the most precious and most important thing in the entire universe.

"Keep them on me, no matter what. If you do that, baby girl," the dark, intoxicating gleam in his hooded eyes paired with the absolutely feral way he is staring at you is almost too much. "I'll give you whatever you ask. But don't come without me." 

He groans loudly and snaps his hips even more rapidly. "Fuck baby, keep tightening against me like that and I'm going to fill you up, make your belly swell full," he huffs out another deep moan, losing the steady pace and falling victim to the pulsing clenching of your walls. "Give you all I've got."

"Cum in me," your rasp is followed by an even louder cry, completely overcome with sensations that seem to be converging. "P-please..fuck. Fill me. Put that seed deep inside, give me that cum, daddy. Fill me with it."

At this, all hell seems to break loose, and his hips begin slamming into you so rapidly, you swear your teeth are rattling. Johnny releases one of his hands from the headboard and slides it between your joined hands. 

"Keep looking at me," his command is broken and erratic, clearly affected by your begging. The neediness dripping from your tone and the want in your blown out, lust filled eyes has him aching to grant you your wish. His free fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, anchoring him to the world. 

"Goddamnit, baby, you want my load, you'll get it. Going to paint these walls white and then plug your pussy full of my cock. Stretch you around my base. Keep that cum there and locked tight inside of you, while I flip you over and do it all over again, just for you," he rasped. "Again and again, and again. Gonna pump you full until your tummy is so swollen you can't move."

You cry out at the possibility, tightening your fingers with his. Johnny continues his rhythm, using his entire body to pleasure you, his pelvis grinding mercilessly and bringing his mouth against the pulsing in the apex of your neck and shoulder. 

Johnny pants. "Put a baby inside that beautiful womb of yours," his voice trails off, his head dips low. "Mm, and if not this time, well, we'll just have to keep trying. Won't we, baby?"

You hear the squeak of the wood groaning at the strength the two of you are exerting in this position and you clench at his words.

"Let Daddy breed you, hmm?" Johnny murmurs in an airy voice, pulling back just enough to have his face hovering near yours. "You want daddy's babies? Make your tummy all swollen and beautiful for me?" he whispered against your lips, kissing you and nibbling, suckling the sensitive skin.

That does it, and it sets you off. A half-sob, half scream tears through your throat as your core tightens, the pulsing, spasms spreading from the center. Johnny moans in your ear, his teeth grazing your neck, and his hips continuing to thrust despite your own are what pulls him over the edge after you.

"Fuck," he swears and grunts your name in an unfamiliar, desperate rasp. Johnny grinds against you a little longer, helping the both of you through the last aftershocks. His lips return to yours, latching on softly. "That's right baby girl, such a good girl. Mm, coming for me the way I knew you could." He gently praises as his hands explore the sweaty expanse of your skin, hips still jerking ever so slightly with each spurt and moan of relief. 

You cannot find the strength, physically, to return the words. Instead, you nuzzle into his sweaty neck, drinking in the smell, committing it to your memories and mind forever, wrapping your limbs tight around his body like a sloth. He wraps his hands behind you, cradling and steadying you, mindful of the dizzying bliss that courses through you, his warm forehead on yours. Johnny holds you firmly. 

"You've done well," he said lovingly. "Just breathe, good girl."

Johnny pulls back a moment to settle beside you, with your head against the firmness of his arm and peppered several more kisses. "Good?" he questions softly.

"Did you feel good?" Your mouth parts in a toothy grin as you use every bit of strength you have to turn into his shoulder, pushing the damp strands away from his forehead. "Is my old man satisfied with his birthday gift?" you exhaled and caressed his face.

Johnny lets out a deep, satisfying sound that's a cross between a laugh and grunt, eyes flashing as they lock onto yours. "Could've done without the 'old man' crack, but yes," his thick fingers slowly brush over your temple and jawline. "I'm thrilled and completely satisfied with my gift. Fuck baby," Johnny presses a kiss onto the sensitive tip of your nose, which in turn wrinkles. "We should have been doing this a helluva lot longer."

"It's okay," you reassured him, taking his palm and entangling your fingers through his. "We have our whole lifetime now to make up for those missed years." You giggle. "Because like it or not, Johnny Suh, you're stuck with me. No takesies-backsies."

"Noted," his smile reaches his eyes, creasing and sparking at your silliness. He notices your eyes beginning to droop and an amused sigh escapes him, slowly guiding your body on top of his. "I know that was a lot for you. Are you sore? Tired? We can have a bath and have you resting before the sun rises, how about that?"

"Bath and then snuggling sound perfect," you nudge the side of your face into his chest, drawing on an even breathing.

"That's my girl," he coos, slipping the unruly tendrils of hair, hanging into the front of your face and tickling him, behind your ear. "I love you. Today has been the best birthday I've ever had."

"Happy birthday, Johnny," you're practically vibrating with content, draping yourself even more comfortably, perfectly content to fall asleep right where you are. "I love you too."

[urbansports1]

The Health Advantages Of Using A Treadmill Are As Follows.

However, if you are looking to avoid hitting up the gym and want to shape up, then there is nothing better other than buying a curved treadmill and keep practising on your own.

Using a treading mill has many benefits, so come, let us show you some of them.

Read More: https://www.slideshare.net/HenryJack7/the-health-advantages-of-using-a-treadmill-are-as-follows

[harryspet]

can u plsss do something where reader keeps noticing dark rafe always looking at her at the gym and then he follows her out one night w noncon 🙏🏾

[warnings] dark!gymbro!rafe x reader, NONCON sex, little editing READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

word count: 1.1k

When a brand new gym was built near your apartment complex, you knew you had no excuse but to start going on a regular basis. Despite how scared you were of the gym bros and pilates princesses, you pushed yourself to start. First, you attended the group workout classes to get yourself comfortable. Slowly, you started using all of the other gym equipment. 

Once you started going to the gym after work, you got even more comfortable with working out in the presence of others. Sometimes you were even brave enough to start conversations with other girls who were working out by themselves. You still considered it a time for you to decompress, and often, you listened to music or podcasts for the entire time. 

As you got into a routine, you started to notice the gym attendees who were always there when you were. You started to differentiate the people you saw on the weekend versus those you saw during the weekends. There was one attendee in particular you began to notice more and more. Whenever you were at the gym, he seemed to be there too. He was always there before you, and he was often still working out when you were leaving.

At first, it wasn’t an irrational thought to believe he spent a lot of time there. His upper body was no laughing matter, in fact, he almost looked dangerous when he was lifting in front of the mirror. Short dark blonde hair and empty blue eyes often greeted you whenever you were trying to mind your own business. At first, you thought it was a coincidence because why would someone like that take an interest in you? 

Besides that, he’d never spoken to you. Unsuccessfully, you tried to tune him out. There were always eyes lingering on you while you walked on the treadmill or when you were grabbing weights from the rack. As you grew more comfortable with your body, you started buying cute workout sets, ones that hugged your curves. The staring only increased, making you feel conflicted about your choice. 

He was not at all your type. You’d never been with a muscular type of guy, and you’d feel quite intimidated by someone like that. Deliberately, you started wearing jackets and sweatshirts again. 

There was a grocery store also near your apartment, and you’d often stop by after your workout. One night, you noticed him standing near the bakery section, gray hoodie over his head, as you were looking through the smoothies in the fresh produce section. 

You debated going up to him and just saying hello to put yourself at ease, but when you turned around again, he was gone. You carried your few bags of groceries back to your apartment, listening to one of your favorite podcasts and fantasizing about the relaxing bath you were going to take. 

Like always, you used your key fob to enter your apartment. With your arms being occupied, you kicked the door to close it, before heading into the kitchen. When all your groceries were placed on the counter, you took off your headphones, immediately hearing your door click shut. You turned around to see a dark figure standing at the entrance of your door. 

You took in a sharp breath and immediately stepped back. As you recognized that hoodie, the horror began to truly set in. When he pulled off the hoodie and revealed those dark eyes, you couldn’t stop the scream that your body released. 

As he lunged towards you, your eyes darted to the knife block sitting on the counter. You charged towards the knives as he grabbed ahold of your waist, lifting you away from the counter. Before you could scream again, he pressed his hand into your mouth, muffling the sound. 

Desperately, you kicked and bit down on his hand. He groaned as he through you down on your living room couch, “Shit,” He cursed, but he was already pinning you down onto the couch, “Scream, and I-I swear I will kill you.”

He wrapped a strong hand around your throat and pinned your lower body down with the weight of his body, “I’m serious. Before anyone came for you or before anyone could call the police. Do you want to die?” You quieted your strangled cries, staring up at him with teary eyes, “Good. I don’t want to do that. You’re so pretty …I would hate to have to …”

His voice was deep and raspy, only adding to your fear, “Y/N … beautiful angel Y/N … my name is Rafe,” All you could ask yourself was why he would give you his name. Why would he show you his face if he was going to leave you alive. Laying helpless beneath him, you felt your odds dwindling away, “This gorgeous body is all mine, right? You don’t mind if I … see more of it, do you?”

He kept his grip on your neck as he pulled up your sports bra, freeing your breasts. With his free hand, he grabbed and kneaded at the sensitive area. He felt and pinched until your nipples were standing at attention, “I knew you’d have such pretty titties …” You watched his lips pull into a smile, “But you know what? I bet your pussy is even prettier.” 

You were caught off guard when Rafe released your neck. As you gasped and struggled for air, he lifted himself off of you, grabbing your waist and pulling your lower half off of the couch. You were bent over the furniture as Rafe again gained control of you, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he pushed you into the furniture. 

He was kneeling beside you, his fingers beginning to trace the folds of your pussy through your leggings. You squirmed in his grasp, feeling every detail of his finger through the thin material, “Shit, I need you, baby,” He groaned, “I need you so bad.”

Abruptly, he ripped open your leggings, causing you to beg, “Please, please, don’t.”

“I’m so hard for you; I need you,” You felt even more humiliated when you heard him spit into his hand and as he pressed it into your exposed area. You felt him moving behind you before he held your hips tightly in place, and you felt his tip against your entrance, “You need me too, don’t you? All these weeks I’ve been watching you, you’ve never had anyone over. You need that pretty pussy filled, huh?”

 Rafe’s words were hasty, panicked almost, like he truly couldn’t control himself, “Please, Rafe, w-we can take it slow,” You tried, but he began to hush you. 

“I’m sorry,” You heard him say as he pushed into you; your body did its best to stretch around him, “I’m so sorry, I …I have to have you, baby.”

+

send dark rafe ideas

[watchmegetobsessed]

ILLICIT THOUGHTS

A/N: i had to, i just couldn't not write something about this picture

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry has been nothing but professional when it came to you, but the short skirt you wore to the office seems to crumble his whole act finally.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

After basically murdering the treadmill with his deadly tempo, now it’s the punching bag that’s suffering from Harry’s frustration. He came down to his private gym with the pure intention of getting rid of the images that haunted him all day, but the more energy he is putting into his workout, the less he feels in control of his wandering thoughts. It’s completely insane.

He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you. He’s been successful at keeping his fantasies tame even though the day he interviewed you for his assistant position he definitely wanted more from you than just your professional help, but he pushed it all into the back of his head, but today changed it all.. He knows that he is your boss and you’re his assistant and that the fantasies he’s been fighting all day are definitely way over any boundaries between employer and employee.

But fuck, that short skirt you wore today is to blame for it all!

He has seen you in outfits that appeared a tad bit riskier than your usual office attires, but nothing got his imagination rolling like the short, tight little skirt that hugged your curves today. The moment you walked in with his morning coffee in your hands and his eyes snapped from his phone to your legs, the thoughts that evaded his mind were nothing but obscene. Filthy. 

He even had to hide his erection while you went through his schedule for the day, walking back and forth in front of his desk, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you and remembered absolutely nothing of what you said. He had to pretend to take a phone call to get you out of his office so he could calm himself down enough to start working, but the fantasies stayed with him all day.

He throws another punch into the bag and it’s so hard it almost flies off the hook. Harry groans as he catches the bag and stops it from swinging around. This is not working, it seems like with each punch he just pushes you more and more into his consciousness and he fears he won’t be able to get you out of there. How is it that he is still so hung up on the images his brain has created? They are not even real, but the feelings they are causing are for sure.

Your silky looking legs are still walking around in his mind as he starts punching the bag again. But then you’re suddenly sitting on top of his desk… your skirt is riding up, exposing your round ass… he can see you bent over the desk, begging for him to touch you… your naked pussy is now right in front of him, so wet, so sweet, he wants to devour you and–

His punch gets out of control and this time the bag actually falls off the hook.

“Damn it!” he groans, sweat dripping down his face as he gets rid of his gloves and just throws it at the bag, leaving the mess untouched. Walking out he heads to the bathroom and he is quick to fill up the tub with ice and water. This is his last chance. He needs to ice his fantasies before they get way out of hand and become a problem.

Harry strips out of his clothes and with a series of curse words he gets into the water, the ice immediately practically burning his skin. It’s like Hell.

He loves it, in a weird, masochist way.

Normally he would only spend about a minute in the tub, but this time he knows he needs more. Slowly, his body cools down, his muscles loosen up and finally… his mind starts to clear out.

It’s blank. No thoughts. No feelings. But the blissfulness doesn’t last long. 

His phone is beside the tub and it chimes from a text, the sound breaks the silence and he exhales sharply as he reaches for the phone, thinking it might be his mother or sister with something silly. But then as he looks at the screen, he loses his head again.

Your smiling face is shown next to a text in the notification.

“Don’t forget, you have an early meeting tomorrow morning with Jackson Morgan.”

It’s a simple, innocent, work-related thing, you’ve sent reminders like this before, but this time… it’s not that simple.

The fantasies flood back into his mind in a split second and not even the ice cold water can keep his body cool and calm. In a blink of an eye, he is hard again.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he jumps out of the water, his cock shamelessly hardening with every passing second and by the time he stands under the shower, he is almost bursting.

This time, he can’t stop himself from wrapping his hand around the base. With his eyes closed, one hand planted onto the tiled wall, the other one impatiently jerking himself, he gives in and lets even his dirtiest thoughts take over for once and for all, hoping he just needs to get you out of his system somehow.

You, on his desk, your back arching from the top as he pounds into you.

You, bent over his desk, your ass perched up into the air, begging to be spanked and fucked.

You, sitting on his lap while he sits in his leather chair, kissing up his neck, riding him like a good girl.

You… you… you…

He imagines you in every possible position he could ever think of. All of his filthiest, most outrageous thoughts finally burst out of the box he’s kept them in in the back of his mind all this time and he just simply can’t stop until he finally finds his release. 

Normally he likes to take his time not just when he’s with a woman but when he is pleasuring himself, he loves the teasing, the edging, he is not a fan of just a quick fuck, but this time he comes way faster and harder than ever. His face is all he can think of, he can almost hear you moan his name, his fingers pulling his hair and just like that… his cum is going down the drain along with the water, his half hard cock still in his hand as he tries to regulate his breathing.

But when the pleasure worms down, shame takes its place and it’s heavy and thick.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his chest heaving as he grabs a towel to dry himself off, hoping it would rub the shame off him as well.

How will he look you in the eyes in the morning? What if you wear something short again? He will never be able to look at you around his desk and not get hard instantly, thinking of the scenes that just gave him an insane orgasm. He shouldn’t have given in, because it only provided temporary relief, but now that he has let his fantasies loose, they will never let him rest.

He is fucked. In the worst way possible.

But little does he know, that in the meantime in a small apartment that you call your home across town, you’re lying in bed, the skirt you wore to the office today thrown into the hamper, your hands between your legs, eyes rolled back into your head as you’re pleasuring yourself. Thinking about none other than your boss, taking you on his desk, letting you ride him in his chair, or pounding into you from behind while you’re watching the city through the floor to ceiling windows of his office… His hand holding a handful of your hair as he pulls on it…Fucking you like no one did before, because you haven’t been able to think of anyone else since the day he interviewed you for his assistant position…

READ PART II. NOW: ILLICIT TEMPTATION

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?�� Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“😗”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

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[powderpinkandsweeet]

More Loser Ellie that lives in the apartment one floor below you. Creepy Ellie follows you to the gym, non-consensual filming, nsfw descriptions and allusions but no fucking

When you’re in the apartment complex’s small gym area, you’re startled as you hear the door open. Seeing that it was your downstairs neighbor you sigh and relax. Ellie stood in the doorway clutching the strap of her backpack with both hands.

Even with only two people in the room it could feel crowded what with the equipment on one wall and benches on the other, but you figure you didn’t have to worry about being stuck in there with some kind of creep. She didn’t look it but Ellie was the kind of creep you should have been worried about.

You gave her a polite smile, putting your headphones back in and resuming your workout. Ellie counted herself lucky that you felt so relaxed in her presence. She slung the backpack off her shoulder and onto the floor beside a bench. You had your head turned away, focused on whatever show you had on your phone as you jogged on the treadmill.

Propping her phone up in the zipper of her backpack with the front facing camera pointing in your direction. With one more glance behind her to ensure your back is turned and you’re in the frame, Ellie presses the record button. Carefully, she lifts the edge of the backpack’s pocket to partially obscure the screen.

She crossed the small, humid room before plopping onto the seat of a stationary bike. "Well shit," Ellie thought, realizing that without her phone she couldn't keep herself entertained or listen to music. So, Ellie entertained herself by sneaking "subtle" glances at you as you went about your workout. It was Ellie's lucky day as she had a front row seat to your tits bouncing as you jump rope and your leggings stretching across your ass as you squat with a bar held across your shoulders.

You stopped for a moment to take a drink of water, unscrewing the bottle and chugging it. A few drops spilled down your chin, falling on your chest and disappearing between your breasts. Ellie almost moaned as she wished to trace the line with her tongue. After intently watching you stretch your aching muscles, you stand and pull your headphones from your ears. Snapping them into their case, you look up and make eye contact with Ellie.

You tiredly smile at her, panting from the exertion of your workout. You looked incredible glistening with sweat, flushed cheeks, and panting. She so badly wanted to be the reason you were flushed and out of breath. You dabbed the sweat off your forehead and chest with one of the complimentary towels, tossing it into the laundry basket. "I'll see you around, Ellie" you coo in your sweet voice before turning and pushing out the door. Her eyes follow the sway of your hips as you headed toward your apartment.

Ellie lunges for her backpack. She nearly drops her phone when she pulls it out of her bag. She stops the recording, seeing that she had an over thirty-minute video of you putting on a show just for her.

On her way out, Ellie takes a peek into the laundry hamper by the door. You were both there early enough in the morning that your towel was the only one there. After much consideration, Ellie grabbed the towel stuffed it in her backpack.

In her bedroom with headphones in and curtains closed, Ellie watches the video. She considers the possibility that you were trying to get her attention. Maybe you had seen the camera, turned your head while she was focused on her set up and saw yourself in the viewfinder. I mean, you were practically flaunting your tits and ass right in front of the camera.

As you bent over to grab your water bottle in the video, Ellie zoomed in to see the curve of your ass and the outline of your pussy through your leggings. Ellie wondered if you even wore panties because the fabric clung so tight she could practically see the lips of your pussy.

At the 15 minute mark, she sees something unexpected. Ellie recalls taking a bathroom break partway through your workout to “readjust” herself. Panting and fanning your face with your hand, you approach the bench. Her eyes widen as she sees you come closer to the camera. Your drawstring bag rests on the bench, Ellie sees your cleavage as you lean in front of the camera. Your nipples are almost visible through your swimsuit.

You rummage in the bag for a second, pulling it closed and going to set it down again, but you pause. You notice that the zipper to Ellie’s backpack is partway open. Looking closer, you see the light of the phone screen shining on the zipper. Odd that she would have her phone on while it’s in her bag. She’s just wasting battery that way! Well maybe she’s recording her workout? She didn’t seem the type but some people record for improvement purposes, you guess. The gym was small, so trying to get just yourself in frame could be hard. You tried to shrug it off because it looked like she just forgot to stop recording, so you incorrectly assumed that she would just edit it out.

Ellie laughed as she realized that you either didn’t know or didn’t care that she was filming you. You were perfectly naive in that way, and it made her feel only slightly less guilty. Ellie took screenshot after screenshot of the video and saved them on her phone in a folder labeled with your name. At the end of the video, she sees you wipe your face and throw away the towel. She nearly forgot about the towel.

More importantly, though, you had said her name on video.Your voice was slightly muffled, but it was more than Ellie thought she would get this time. Out of breath, you panted through her phone’s speakers “I’ll see you around, Ellie.”

“Fuck,” Ellie whispers. She unzips her backpack to take out her headphones and your towel. She holds the towel to her nose and mouth and rewinds the video “Ellie…” She took a deep inhale through her nose in an attempt to smell you. She could smell the salt of your sweat, and she whimpered as she recalled how the towel had gone between your breasts.

Again and again she rewinds the video, listening to you repeat “Ellie… Ellie… Ellie…”

[pandapetals]

You're Beautiful

logan howlett x fem!reader - body image issues, reader has lost weight, working out, logan comforts you, mirror, no y/n used, no reader description

prompt idea from @Silverskyeline from their logan promptober: #8-mirror

You feel insecure about your recent weight loss and Logan comforts you.

a/n: sooo this is more written with me in mind lol. I've recently been on a health kick and lost some weight and was feeling insecure so writing this comforted me.

The early morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a golden hue over the gym equipment tucked away in the corner of the mansion’s basement. The air was filled with the quiet hum of the treadmill’s belt beneath your feet, your steady rhythm blending with the faint sounds of Logan’s breathing as he powered through his own workout on the weights. It had been like this for months now—early mornings together, you determinedly pushing yourself on the treadmill, while Logan lifted weights nearby, his presence a grounding force but never intrusive.

You hadn’t told him why you started joining him. You didn’t need to. Logan never pushed or asked for an explanation. He just gave you that familiar, almost imperceptible nod when you’d first laced up your shoes and stepped onto the treadmill next to him as if to say, I’m here to support you.

That was all you wanted—support. You loved your chubbiness, but sometimes, you wondered what it would be like to climb the stairs without feeling breathless or to get through the day without the weight of exhaustion pressing on your chest.

Three months had passed, and your body had changed—leaner, stronger. Clothes fit differently, and you moved with a newfound lightness. With that came an unsettling feeling you couldn’t quite shake. Every time you looked in the mirror, you saw someone different. Less of the curves that once hugged your frame. Less of the softness that had been part of you for so long.

This morning was no different. After your run, you slipped into the bathroom, peeling off your sweaty workout clothes and stepping in front of the mirror, your fingers trailing over the parts of you that felt unfamiliar now—hips that didn’t curve the way they used to, breasts that seemed smaller, no longer filling out the sports bra in the same way. You stared at the air in the bathroom thick with silence.

A lump formed in your throat before you could stop it, the sight of yourself twisting something deep inside. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. You were supposed to feel proud and strong. Instead, all you could focus on was what felt lost—what had been left behind in your pursuit of feeling better.

The tears came quickly, quietly. You turned away from the mirror, pressing the heel of your hand against your mouth, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to spill out. The bathroom door creaked open, and before you could pull yourself together, Logan was there, standing in the doorway.

He didn’t say anything at first; he just stood there, his presence filling the small space. You could feel his gaze on you—sharp, concerned, and steady, the same way it had been for years. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see you like this, so wrapped up in your own insecurities.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and rough as gravel, like always, but gentler now. “What’s goin’ on?”

You shook your head, trying to wave him off, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You felt a sob catch in your throat, and before you could say anything, Logan was next to you, his broad hand resting carefully on your shoulder.

“Talk to me, darlin’,” he murmured, his thumb brushing softly against your skin, grounding you with his touch.

Your breath hitched, and you finally met his eyes in the mirror. His brow furrowed slightly, his concern deep, real. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so raw and vulnerable. It was the kind of moment you usually kept to yourself.

“I just…” you started, your voice shaky. You turned away from the mirror, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I didn’t think I’d feel like this.”

Logan frowned, his grip on your shoulder tightening ever so slightly. “Like what?”

You gestured vaguely toward the mirror, your breath hitching in your chest. “Like this isn’t me. Like I’ve lost something.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he glanced from you to the reflection in the mirror. “You ain’t lost nothin’. You’re still you.”

You shook your head, the frustration bubbling up. “No, Logan. Look at me.” Your voice cracked as you waved toward your reflection. “I’ve been working out for months, and now... I don’t even know who I’m looking at. I’ve lost weight, but... I’ve lost other things too.”

Logan’s eyes followed your line of sight to the mirror, taking in the changes you were seeing. He studied you for a moment, his eyes lingering on your frame before they found yours again in the reflection. “You’re upset ‘cause you think you’ve lost your curves?”

You nodded, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as you wiped at the tears spilling down your cheeks. “I don’t feel like myself anymore. I thought this would make me feel better, but... I miss the way I looked. My hips, my... my breasts. Everything feels so different.”

Logan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took a small step closer, his hand shifting from your shoulder to gently cup your cheek. His thumb brushed away a tear from your cheek, his touch firm but soft.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice quiet but unwavering. When you didn’t, his thumb gently nudged your chin up, guiding your eyes to meet his. “I don’t care what size you are, or what you think you’ve lost.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you as you stared into his eyes. There was a warmth there, a deep certainty that had always been your lifeline, even when you doubted yourself.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough around the edges, full of sincerity. “You’ve always been beautiful to me, and that ain’t ever gonna change.”

You let out a soft sob, pressing your forehead into his chest, your body melting into the steady warmth of him. His arms came around you, pulling you close, one hand stroking your hair, the other resting at the small of your back.

“I don’t care about what you think you’ve lost,” he whispered, lips brushing your temple. “All I see is you. And you’re still the same sharp, sarcastic woman I fell in love with.”

A soft laugh escaped you despite yourself, the sound muffled against his chest. Logan pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up, his eyes softer now, filled with that stubborn affection that had always been there.

“And if you want those curves back, fine,” he added with a smirk, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “But you don’t need ‘em for me. I love every inch of you, no matter what.”

You smiled up at him, your chest lighter now, the weight on your shoulders easing.

“Come on,” he said, turning you gently toward the mirror. “You wanna look? I’ll show you.”

You glanced at him, eyes wide. “Logan, I’m—”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You think I haven’t seen it all by now?” he teased, his hands resting on your hips. “You’re perfect just how you are.”

You stared at his reflection, cheeks warm. His eyes held nothing but love, and you knew there was no judgment, no hesitation. He stood behind you, his hands at your hips, his touch gentle but grounding, like he was reminding you that no matter what you saw, he saw something different.

Slowly, your eyes moved back your reflection. His presence behind you made everything feel a little less daunting like you weren’t facing this alone. Your reflection was still there, still different, but Logan's hands were on your waist, and his warmth was pressed against your back, which made the image less harsh. His fingers lightly traced the outline of your hips, pulling you closer to him as he tilted his head to the side.

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and gruff in your ear, making your breath catch. “Still the same woman I fell for.”

His words settled into your skin like a balm, easing the knot of insecurity that had been building for months. You let your gaze drift over your body, taking in the changes—the leanness, the muscles you hadn’t noticed before, the curves that were still there, though softer now. It was different, but standing here with Logan, you could almost see what he saw. Strength. Beauty. And maybe something better than what you had been holding onto before.

You glanced at him in the mirror, catching his reflection. His eyes were soft but intense like he was trying to make sure you understood what he was saying. He wasn’t just talking about the physical. He was talking about all of you.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his hands trailing from your hips to your waist, settling there like he was steadying you. “You’ve been puttin’ in the work, and it shows. But you never lost what makes you you.”

A soft sigh escaped you, your body relaxing into his. His arms encircled you fully now, pulling you close against him as his chin rested lightly on your shoulder. The warmth of his body seeped into you, and for a moment, the rest of the world felt distant, like it was just the two of you standing there in the bathroom.

“I just didn’t expect to feel this way,” you admitted quietly, your voice softer now, as though speaking the truth would make it real. “I thought I’d feel proud, you know? But now... I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Logan pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “You don’t gotta explain it. Change ain’t always easy to take in, even if it’s good change.”

His words settled deep in your chest, calming the swirl of emotions that had been pulling at you all morning. You tilted your head, leaning back into him, your hands resting over his where they still lingered at your waist. For the first time in a while, you felt the tension ease, the weight of your self-doubt lifting just a little.

“Do you really think I’m... still me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but you needed to hear it again, needed to believe it.

Logan’s hold on you tightened slightly, his lips brushing your shoulder as he spoke. “You’re more you than ever, darlin’. Stronger, tougher. And still just as beautiful.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time, the reflection in the mirror didn’t feel so foreign. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe you hadn’t lost anything. Maybe you were gaining something you hadn’t even realized you needed—strength, resilience, the kind of confidence that wasn’t tied to how you looked but how you felt.

“I love you, you know that?” you said softly, your voice catching just a little as the weight of your own emotions hit you.

Logan chuckled, the deep, familiar sound rumbling against your back as he kissed your temple, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured, his lips brushing the side of your forehead. “I love you too. Ain’t never gonna change, no matter what.”

You turned in his arms, pressing your forehead against his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart under your hands. Logan held you close, his chin resting on the top of your head, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your back. He didn’t need to say anything more—his presence, his touch, his quiet strength, was enough to say everything he needed to.

The two of you stood there for a long while, wrapped up in each other, the weight of your doubts and insecurities melting away with every breath. Logan didn’t rush you, didn’t try to fix anything. He just held you, letting the silence speak for itself, and in that silence, you found a kind of peace you hadn’t realized you needed.

Eventually, you pulled back, looking up at him with a soft smile. “I guess I can’t let you be right all the time, huh?”

Logan smirked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “Wouldn’t mind it. But I like it better when you fight me on it.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, the tension hanging in the air completely gone now. Logan’s eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at you, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, his gaze still full of that quiet affection.

“So,” he said, his voice teasing now, “are we gonna stand here all day, or are you finally gonna let me make you breakfast?”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning up at him. “Depends. What’s on the menu?” 

“Whatever the hell you want,” he replied, his smirk widening as he stepped back, still holding onto your hand as he started to pull you toward the door. “But I’m thinkin’ waffles.”