#gym fic

[canadianfangirl-95]

We gotta work this out 

Pedro Pascal x f!reader 

Summary: Pedro looks extra delicious in his workout gear and newly toned muscles. You take up the opportunity to torture him a bit and get some much-needed discipline.  

Or; Pedro fucks you in your home gym because he’s trying to work out and you can’t stop teasing him.  

Warnings; Look up back extensions on ab bench and you’ll understand my thought process. Smut, Minors DNI, 18+, age gap relationship, dirty talk, swearing, fingering, PIV, spanking, multiple orgasms, sex on exercise equipment. No thoughts, just that fucking bicep picture. 

Word count 2600

Pedro has only been back from New York for a few weeks and will be leaving to film in London soon enough. This is the first year your non-profit is going through tax season, so you’ve been chained to your desk and unable to travel with him until later in the Spring. When he is home, he’s busy with meetings, script work and working out. Working out. Ugh, that seems to be the biggest pain in your butt. It’s bad enough you barely have time with your husband right now, but he also has to look so damn good as he’s prepping for Avengers.  

Every day that he saunters into the kitchen, grabs his green juice in his t-shirt, gym shorts, socks hiked far too high up his strong calves and running shoes before patting down the steps into the basement home gym, leaves your mouth watering. Your eyes trailing behind him desperate to take a bite into his bulging bicep. With all the extra energy burning he’s doing in the gym; it leaves him too tired for some extracurricular activities in the evening. It’s not his fault, you think, you knew this may happen when marrying an older man.  

A girl gets desperate at times like this though, and you decide to take matters into your own hands. Once you’re dressed in a tight sports bra that accentuates your breasts, light grey  gym spandex shorts and your running shoes, you bounce down the steps with a sly grin on your face.  

Pushing the door open, you’re immediately greeted with the sound of Purple Rain by Prince blasting through the overhead speakers. The erotic groans coming from the far wall draw your attention immediately and you’re just in time to catch him as he pushes a set of weights across the mat. The sleeves on his black t-shirt are rolled up and his biceps glisten with sweat and use. Your eyes dilate as you take in his fit form and you do your best to settle yourself before skipping over.  

Pedro wipes his damp brow with the back of his hand before noticing you striding towards him. His mouth curls slightly at the sight of you in your workout gear, “Hey baby, what’re you doin’ in here?” He asks, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you in with one arm to place a chaste kiss to your temple.  

You place your hands on his sweaty chest as you keen at his embrace. “Oh just, wanted to get a workout in, if you know what I mean.” You say with a wink, drawing a tiny circle on his chest and eyeing him with the sweetest doe eyes you can muster.  

He eyes you for a moment before his eyebrows raise, realizing your proposition. “Baby,” he begins, shaking his head but pulling you closer towards him. “I’m sorry but I gotta finish this session. Jason’s all over about me about making weight before I leave for London.” 

“I know, I know.” You say shyly, “I’m not here to distract you.”  

Pedro looks at you suspiciously, “You’re not?” 

Shaking your head, you bite your bottom lip. “Nope, just here to stretch and get some exercising done. Swear.” You say with a smile, holding your pinky out for him.  

He pulls his mouth into that twisted half smirk that gets you every time, looking down at your pinky dangling in the air. “Good, no reason we can’t share the space.” He raises his hand and interlocks his pinky with yours. “No funny business missy.”  

Raising your hands up in the air in mock surrender, you step back and walk over to the mats on the other side of the room. He watches the way your hips sway as you walk, and he mutters under his breath. “Just here to workout my ass.” Before returning to his weights.  

You sit down on the mat and grab your phone, taking over the overhead speaker and turning on your favourite sexy time playlist. Side to Side by Ariana Grande booms over the speaker and Pedro stills in his spot to glance at you, recognizing the song immediately. You shrug and holler over, “Helps me get my body really fluid, and moving you know.” He shakes his head, and you wink before turning back to your phone.  

He finishes pushing the weights and begins to collect them off the dolly, lifting them effortlessly to place back on the racking system. He spares a glance in your direction; you’re standing with your legs stretched as apart as they can go and leaning forward to stretch. He stares at the way your ass looks in those damn shorts and bites his lip. “Fuck me.” He quickly shakes the obscene thoughts from his head to focus on what he needs to do next so he can quickly finish his session and go for a very cold shower.  

Grabbing his hand weights, he goes to stand in front of one of the walls of mirrors, curling the weights upwards, his biceps bulging with each movement. He takes a deep breath in as he wonders what you’re up to now. He figures a quick glance can’t hurt so he lifts his eyes to spy on you through the mirror. You’re turned facing his back on the mat now. Legs spread open in a butterfly with your eyes closed, deeply breathing and focusing on trying to push your legs further open with your hands. Your chest rises and falls dramatically with each deep breath as you push through the pain.  

The weights in his hands suddenly feel 20 pounds heavier and they dangle as he sucks his teeth. “That girl’s gonna be the death of me.” He says, shaking his head and shifting his weight, picking a random ceiling tile to stare at as he finishes his set and tries to ignore the bulge that is slowly forming in his bright blue shorts.  

Pedro finishes his weightlifting and grabs his green juice before moving to the treadmill to do his run. He gets onto the machine and amps up the speed. Jogging, he hears the undeniable sound of you moaning. He looks over in your direction and sees you at the ab extension bench. You’re leaning over, your legs locked in as you lean over the top of it. Your ass raising higher in the air as your body goes down, an illicit moan escapes your lips as your body comes back up again. His Adams apple bobs as he takes a large gulp, his attention is drawn enough for him to falter and stumble on the treadmill, muttering a curse as he quickly grabs hold of the side rails and stretches his feet onto the landings on either side of the track.  

He takes a deep breath as he stops the machine to give him a moment to settle, before glancing up one more time at your position. You lean forward again and a lump forms in his throat as he spots a damp spot on your shorts, right at the heart of your core. There’s no way you’ve been working out hard enough to develop a sweat with all the teasing you’ve done, so there’s only one thing that could cause a build up of dampness in his favourite spot in the world.  

“Fuck it.” He mutters before jumping off the treadmill and stomping in your direction. He is a man, but not a strong man, not when it comes to you. He’ll take the tongue lashing from Jason if it means he gets a few moments of reprieve with his wife. You’re still in a downwards position when he comes up behind you, you barely catch a glimpse of his lustful look in the mirror as you arch back up before his strong hand finds the middle of your back and pushes you back down. “Ugh, babe!” You let out a huff as you brace yourself facing down on the bench.  

His hand moves smoothly up and down your back as he tsks at you, “Don’t give me any of that. You’ve been teasing me all this time, getting you and myself all worked up. Can’t you feel what you do to me baby.” He says, his voice cool as ice as he presses his growing bulge into your ass. You whimper at the sensation of him being so close to where you want. You peak up at the mirror in front of you and your eyes lock. There’s nothing but darkness in his as he continues to rub up and down your spine.  

“You came down here, wanting me to fuck you isn’t that right.” Pedro hums.  

Taking a deep breath, you nod shakily.  

“Words, admit what you did.” He says, shaking his head.  

“Fuck,” you whisper, “yes. Fuck, I’ve just missed you so much and I missed your cock and fuck, baby I just need you so bad.” You stammer, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate to feel him on you.  

“Sh, sh.” He begins, his hand travelling further down to cup one of your ass cheeks. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His hands grab the top of your shorts and he swiftly drags them down to rest halfway down your thighs. He smirks as you moan at the sudden feeling of the hot air against your bare core. “Knew it.” Pedro whispers. Bringing his hand up, his fingers gently trace along your wet lips, and you groan. “I know you’re ready for me baby, always are, but I wanna have a little fun. Just keep your head down for me.”  

Before you can question him, one of his thick fingers breaks through your hole and plunges deep. You jolt forward slightly and bite your lip, your pussy clenching around the digit already. He slowly pumps his finger in and out, rubbing your ass and lower back with his other hand. Just as you adjusted to the curl and depth of his finger, he inserts another.  

His fingers are thicker than any other man you’ve ever been with, and the stretch makes your lip quiver every time. “Fuuuuck.” You groan as you tuck your head down against the cool material of the bench. The contact against your forehead gives you a distraction long enough to let you catch your breath, so you don’t drench his fingers so quickly.  

Pedro clicks his tongue, “Don’t hold out on me, I need this as much as you do. Just, let go.” With that, a third finger fills your tiny hole, and you can’t contain yourself any longer as he pumps you senseless with his fingers. You feel the tightness and blissful feeling wash over you as your walls clench around his fingers and gush around his hand. Your head flies up and you open your eyes just enough to see the way to stares at your pussy as he fucks you through your orgasm. He finally pulls out of you with a flick of his fingers, to send one final squirt out of your tense hole and onto his shorts. You let out a breath of relief as your body settles post-orgasm.  

“That’s my girl.” He whispers, taking the top of his shorts and boxers and shoving down to rest below his heavy balls.  

You wait, knowing what’s about to happen. He lines up with your dripping center and in one fell swoop, buries himself inside you to the base. You both moan at the righteous feeling of being together again as man and wife. His size never ceases to amaze you as even the stretch from his three fingers was barely able to prepare you for his cock. Catching each other’s eyes in the mirror again, you nod and bite your lip. He smirks and begins pulling out and slamming back into you. Your body jolts forward bent over on the bench with each deep and aching thrust. His hands grip your hips as he focuses on fucking you as hard and fast as he can.  

“Fuck, you always take me so well baby.” He says, his hand raises up and strikes your right ass cheek swiftly. You let out a whimper at the pain but your pussy clenches around him. “You like that?” He asks (he knows you do), before smacking it again. He reveals in the way your skin bounces with each contact. “I’m not gonna last much longer baby, haven’t cum in days.” He moans as he feels you begin to tighten on his pulsing member.  

A few more thrusts and he presses his full body weight onto you, releasing inside you. The swell of his cock inside your already sensitive and fucked out core throws you into your second orgasm. Holding your breath as you tense up, you look up at the mirror and nearly drool at the fucked-out expression on his face. His dark eyes find yours again and he quickly grabs your ribs and hauls your body up, holding you up with his sweaty chest against your back, his bicep curling around your throat with his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Your hands flail up and grab hold of his bulging arm as he continues to shallowly thrust into you. The sensation is so overwhelming you feel the need to scream, so you quickly lean your face forward and bite down gently on his muscle to calm yourself and stop the squail that is sure to erupt from your throat as you finally come down from your intense high.  

Your jaw releases his skin, leaving a red mark. Your tongue tastes of his sweat and your breathing is as laboured as his as he steady’s you as you try to find your footing again. The unmistakable tell of your dirty actions begins to slide down your leg from your aching core. Pedro coughs quietly into his hand, before stepping to the side and grabbing a sweat towel. He kneels down onto his knee as you brace yourself on the bench in front you. He calmly wipes your legs clean, the cloth travels up your thighs and you shudder as it makes contact with your lips to clean them as well. Once satisfied, he grabs your shorts and pulls them up your clammy thighs back into position.  

Turning to face him, you smile. “Well, that was, needed.” You grin deviously. 

Shaking his head, he places his hands on his hips, “You can say that.” He winks and steps back.  

Biting your lip, you say. “I guess you gotta get back to your session.” A touch of disappointment lacing your words.  

Pedro looks at your eyes and then away momentarily, “Nah.” He starts, your head snaps up in attention. “I was actually thinking of taking a shower.” He eyes you lovingly with that damn smirk, before saying, “Was wondering if my wife could join me. Looks like we both worked up quite a sweat.”  

Your eyes glisten as you take his extended hand and follow him up the stairs, leaving only the rhythmic sound of Father Figure by George Michael to fill the space. 

[olives-and-lilies]

Remember those previews??? Well guess what, it’s time~!

I got to work with the ever charming oniifans on a piece for Labrys Bang on twitter, called Strength in Sisterhood

It a super cute gym gals fic where Ochako is encouraged by her friends to try going to a gym after some less than savory encounters at her previous one. Y’all will love it

Designing everyone’s workout wear was a good time, to be honest. And its such a wholesome fic~!

[daughterofhecata]

I'd like to her about the gym fic 👀 hehe

[WIP Wednesday]

Oder dass Cotta es auf die Anstrengung schieben würde.

Obwohl er nun konzentriert die Ampel fokussierte, konnte er ihn am Rande seines Sichtfelds immer noch sehen, die gleichmäßige Bewegung seiner Arme, das langvertraute Gesicht, das er sich in der letzten Zeit vielleicht mehr als einmal abends im Bett vorgestellt hatte. Seit sie sich mehr auf Augenhöhe begegneten; Cotta gelang es scheinbar mühelos, ihn eher wie einen gleichberechtigten Kollegen zu behandeln anstatt wie der neugierige Junge, der er gewesen war.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Jazz: What is that?

Danny: A smoothie.

Jazz: Why is it glowing?

Danny: It's fear in liquid form. I'm doing a cleanse, and some of my ghost friends recommended Dr. Crane, from door 2319 in the East Center Realms. It's super healthy and delicious to boat. Check out my test results from my last check-up with FrostBite

Jazz: Wow, this is amazing, Danny. Your health is looking great. Not to mention you're looking good too.

Danny: Thanks! This plus the hitting the gym is doing me wonders. Honestly, my mental health has sky rocketed, not to mention my self-confidence. Get this, Paulina asked me on a date the other day. Apparently, I came back from summer vacation hot.

Jazz: Did you say yes?

Danny: No! It was so much more satisfying to see her look shock that anyone would turn her down. That's the best way to get back at my bullies, make them want me, and then rip out their hearts. Dash cried a little. And it's all thanks to Dr. Crane's healthy smoothies!

Jazz: Do you think he can make me something too? Something safe for human consumption? I want to work on my figure.

Danny: I can ask! He's always happy to see me.

Meanwhile:

Scarecrow: Men prepare our defenses! That theif won't get my intellectual property!

Goon: Whats the boss on about this time?

Goon 2: That glowing boy stole another tank of Fear Toxin. The boss is losing his mind over the fact he can't stop him from making off with it.

Goon: Why does he want it?

Goon 2: I think the kid snorts it

Goon: What!?

Goon 2: Right!? I'm not sure if the kid is human or not, and at this point, I'm too scared to ask. At least he throws money at us when he takes the tank. He's single handly putting my kid through private school.

Goon: He's the reason we got a raise? Glowing kid might be my new hero.

[cursedyuri]

modern!vi who’s down horrendous for you. she gets home from the gym, sweat-damp and sore, ready for a much-needed shower after hitting a new pr and kicking her own ass during her workout. she’s undressing in the foggy bathroom when her phone pings from the counter, your name lighting up the screen. she tosses her shirt to the side and unlocks the phone to see your message.

missing you sooo bad right now, you’ve texted her. attached is a photo of you, shirtless, with your perfectly manicured nails delicately cupping your tits. might have to touch myself… help me out?

vi scoffs at your message, but she clicks on that photo again, zooms in and analyzes it until she’s sure she’s memorized every individual pixel.

fuck, you’re perfect. fuck fuck fuck.

steam from the shower has fogged up the mirror entirely, and it’s deathly humid in the bathroom. but vi’s got a soft spot for you - she’d do anything you asked her to, even if your version of asking is merely suggesting… no, bribing. that photo was definitely a bribe.

vi messes around with a few potential angles, propping her phone up on the counter, then on the floor, even on the back of the toilet. nothing looks right, and she’s so sweaty and frustrated that she almost decides not to send you anything at all. she rips open the shower curtain, huffing an annoyed sigh before her eyes land on the shower head.

huh, that’s an idea.

fifteen minutes later, as you’re lazily dragging your fingers through your cunt, horny and annoyed that vi hasn’t texted you back, you get a notification. it’s a video, you realize with a giddy whir of excitement, and you click play without a second thought. one hand cradling your phone, the other between your thighs, you watch as vi settles the camera down on a shelf by the window. her scarlet locks are damp with sweat, droplets of water from the shower rolling down her inked skin. fuck, you’ll never get used to that body - she’s all lean muscles and sharp edges, so dangerous until she’s holding you with those calloused hands and curling her frame up against yours.

and now? she’s biting her lip, trying to make a show of trailing a hand down her abdomen - she stops short, though, reaching off to the side instead. her hand returns with the running shower head, and you draw in a sharp, excited breath. as if she could hear you, vi lets out a little chuckle and says, “i know, unexpected. i haven’t done this in years.”

she fiddles with the shower head, flicking a switch at the neck until the water flow changes to a more… optimal setting. the stream’s a lot more focused now, more intense.

“worked myself up a bit before this. hope that’s okay, princess.” vi flashes a smirk at the camera, but with her cheeks painted that pretty pink shade, you know she’s a little embarrassed. uncertain.

you’re grateful that the camera angle lets you see every detail of what vi’s doing - how her body moves. she hitches a leg up against the shower wall, just high enough to spread herself open. the soft curls between her legs are untamed and wet, and your cunt twitches at the sight of vi’s pink, pink cunt, spread beautifully - you only get one glance, though, before the silver shower head blocks your view. vi hisses through her teeth and her hips twitch. you sigh, your fingers playing in the wetness between your legs as you watch vi toss her head back in pleasure. every moan that passes her lips goes straight to your clit - you’re needy, gushing wetter every time you see vi’s tits bounce or her jaw clench.

“fuuuuck,” she cries out, her face a vision of pleasure. mouth hung open, brows knitted together, eyes foggy with lust. “gonna come, shit, baby…”

water drips from vi’s hair down to her shoulders, rolling in beads down her tense chest. she’s heaving, panting, gasping your name as her orgasm slams into her, tatted biceps flexing as she forces the shower head to stay in place. her orgasm seems to last forever, streams of water gushing from her pussy down to the shower floor - and then she’s done, spent.

it’s almost like vi forgets about the camera for a moment. she hums in pleasure, still panting a bit as she comes back down from her high. she licks her lips, then her eyes meet the camera - and oh, she looks wrecked.

“hope that’s enough material for you, pretty girl,” she says to the camera, winking playfully before the video cuts out.

[elysianightsss]

Wrote this in between sets🤭😅

He smells you before he sees you, a heady sweat covering a pretty vanilla and strawberry shampoo but it has him foaming at the mouth like an animal. Simon spots you out in the crowd of hot sweaty bodies.

Small grunts leaving your mouth as you part your legs each time, the weighted machine helping you feel the burn in your thighs. He licks his lips watching the fat of your ass ripple with each rep. He wants to bury his cooked nose into the crotch of your pink, cute little gym shorts.

Fuck.

He feels himself growing hard and he has no shame in it. Eyes still staring at the back of you through the mirror. He’s on a running machine, mirror in front for the cocky individuals who like to watch themselves work out and you’re on the opposite side of the gym on the hip adductor.

Branded over the ear headphone blaring the type of music Simon remembers from the club last weekend. Were you a clubbing girl? Simon wanted to know. Did you go out on the weekends looking to get drunk and grind against strangers in a slutty little dress he’d easily be able to rip off your body with two of his thick fingers.

He’s dying to know.

And more importantly so does his wolf.

[kiszjuli]

・── spot me .ᐟ (N.JM)

(재민) ; fem!reader x na jaemin

──in which you start going to the gym, determined to try something new-even if it meant wrestling with difficult machines. seeing you struggle, along comes na jaemin, who offers to help with a bit of his experience. and somehow he keeps popping up.

genre. fluff, slightly suggestive, non!idol au ; tags. flirt!jaemin, jaemin is annoyingly shameless, gym au. ; w.c. 3.1k

!! not proofread !!

you had barely stepped foot into the gym when you started questioning all of your life choices. at least you had a cute workout set?

the air was thick with the scent of sweat and rubber, the sound of weights clanking against metal echoing in your ears. everyone here seemed to know exactly what they were doing. adjusting machines with ease, moving through sets like it was second nature. meanwhile, you stood there, clutching your water bottle like a lost child in a supermarket.

still, you weren’t about to back down. you set your sights on a machine that seemed harmless enough and made your way over, trying to act like you belonged. but as soon as you sat down and attempted to adjust the settings, you realized you had absolutely no idea what you were doing.

“okay, no big deal,” you muttered to yourself, tugging at one of the levers. it didn’t budge. you tried again. still nothing. “seriously? why is this thing built like a medieval torture device?” you grumbled to yourself.

“need some help?”

the voice came from beside you, smooth and effortlessly amused. you turned your head, already prepared to politely refuse, only to freeze when you took in the sight before you.

a guy, probably around your age, maybe a little older, stood there, watching you with an easy smile. black hair, strong frame, gym bag slung over one shoulder like he walked straight out of a sportswear ad.

and he was looking at you like he had just found his new favorite thing.

you blinked. “uh—”

“jaemin,” he introduced himself before you could even process a response, he leaned on the machine—which you had at least discovered to be called a leg press.

you eyed his frame, then looked back at his eyes. “is this the part where i say my name and suddenly my gym struggles are over?”

his grin widened. “could be. or it’s the part where i help you before you embarrass yourself further.”

you scoffed. “bold of you to assume i’m embarrassed.”

“oh, my bad,” he said, leaning in slightly. “you’re totally owning the whole ‘fighting for my life against a leg press’ thing.”

you narrowed your eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. still, you crossed your arms. “i was doing just fine, actually.”

“right,” he nodded, clearly humoring you. “so, if i walk away right now, you’ll definitely figure out that you need to pull this knob first before adjusting anything?”

you glanced at the machine, then back at him. “…obviously.”

jaemin let out a soft laugh before reaching past you, fingers brushing yours as he effortlessly adjusted the settings. “there. now you won’t accidentally crush yourself.”

you exhaled through your nose, trying to ignore the way your skin tingled from the brief contact. “wow. thanks, random gym hero.”

“anytime,” he said easily, before flashing you a smile that was just a little too charming for his own good. “but if you really want to thank me, let me know when you need a spotter. i’d hate for your gym journey to end in tragedy.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

unironically, maybe you wouldn’t mind fighting with more gym machines if it meant talking to him again.

—

one day, after weeks of playful banter and his relentless presence at the gym, you finally give in.

“jaemin,” you call out, catching his attention as he fills his water bottle.

he turns instantly, eyebrows lifting in surprise—probably because you’re actually asking for him instead of trying to shake him off. “yeah?”

you hesitate for a second, then sigh. “can you spot me?”

his grin is immediate, almost smug, but there’s something warm in it too. “you finally trust me, huh?”

“don’t make me regret this,” you warn, but he’s already heading over.

standing behind you as you position yourself under the barbell, jaemin is different than usual. no teasing, no cocky remarks. just focused. and it’s… weirdly attractive.

“all right,” he says, voice even and steady. “you got this. unrack it slow, control your breathing.”

you do as he says, gripping the bar and easing it off the rack. as you lower into the first rep, you feel the weight immediately. heavier than you thought, but not unmanageable. still, it’s reassuring knowing he’s there—hands hovering just under the bar, ready to step in if needed.

“good, keep it steady,” he murmurs, eyes sharp. “breathe in on the way down, out on the way up.”

you push through the first few reps, his voice calm and guiding. when you hesitate on the last one, struggling slightly, his hands shift just enough to support you without taking over.

“c’mon,” he encourages, his voice lower now, right by your ear. “push through it. you got it.”

you grit your teeth, putting everything into the final rep, and with his steadying hands just beneath yours, you manage to rack the weight back up with a small, breathless laugh.

“see? easy,” he says, nudging your shoulder lightly as you sit up.

“easy for you to say,” you mutter, wiping the sweat from your brow.

he crouches beside you, eyes glinting. “you did good.”

for once, there’s no teasing in his tone, just genuine pride. and it does something to your stomach that you’d rather not acknowledge.

“thanks,” you say, meeting his gaze.

he grins, leaning just a little closer. “anytime. but you know… if you need help with anything else, i offer full-time training services. very exclusive.”

you roll your eyes, shoving him away lightly, but the warmth in your chest lingers.

—

the second time jaemin spots you, he actually does his job—for the most part.

you’re pushing through a set of squats, trying to focus on your form, when his voice comes from just behind you, steady and low.

“slow and controlled,” he says. “yeah, just like that.”

his hands hover close to your waist, not touching but near enough that you can feel his presence, his warmth. it shouldn’t be distracting. but then he murmurs, “perfect,” and something about the way he says it. soft, almost like praise, throws you off completely.

your balance wobbles mid-rep.

“shit—” you exhale, adjusting your footing before you tip over entirely.

jaemin is already there, steadying you with a hand at your hip, his fingers pressing firm through the fabric of your leggings. his grip is warm, sure, and the brief contact sends a zip of something unidentifiable up your spine.

“you good?” he asks, amusement flickering in his tone.

“yeah.” you clear your throat, regaining your focus. “just—distracted.”

he hums, far too entertained by this. “happens. but if i’m too distracting, i can always—”

“don’t.” you shoot him a look, and he grins, unrepentant.

“got it.”

you finish the set without any more mishaps, though you swear jaemin is closer than necessary for the rest of it, his presence a constant weight in the back of your mind.

when you straighten, breathless, he tilts his head. “so? will you admit i’m good at this?”

you roll your eyes, grabbing your water bottle. “for once, i’ll admit it you’re useful.”

“wow.” he presses a hand to his chest. “the highest compliment i’ve ever received.”

“don’t get used to it.”

his smirk lingers, eyes flickering over you in a way that makes it clear he’s already gotten used to being this close.

—

the next time you see jaemin, it’s not at the gym. and it’s not exactly planned either.

you’re standing at the counter of your favorite café, waiting for the barista to ring up your order when you notice the guy behind the register giving you a little extra attention.

“you come here a lot, right?” he asks, punching your total into the screen. “i feel like i’d remember someone like you.”

you blink at him, caught off guard by the obvious attempt at flirting. “uh, yeah. something like that.”

before he can say anything else, an arm drapes over your shoulder like it belongs there.

“she does,” jaemin’s voice cuts in smoothly, and your entire body tenses. “i should know. we come here together all the time.”

he says it so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and before you can even process his presence, his warmth, his scent, the fact that he’s touching you. he reaches into his pocket and slides his card across the counter.

“put both on me,” he adds with a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

the barista’s expression flickers, just slightly. “right. okay.”

you don’t even get a chance to protest before the receipt prints, the transaction complete. jaemin thanks the guy with a polite nod, then leans down a little, voice dropping just enough for only you to hear.

“should i start getting jealous, or was that just a customer service voice?”

you elbow him lightly, heat creeping up your neck. “you are so—”

“charming? thoughtful? boyfriend material?”

you roll your eyes. “ridiculous.”

“same thing.”

your drinks arrive, and jaemin grabs them both before you can. he hands you yours, fingers brushing yours just enough to make you aware of the space (or lack thereof) between you.

as you step outside, you side-eye him. “you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“i know.” he takes a sip of his drink, then glances at you with a smug little tilt of his lips. “but it was fun, wasn’t it?”

you scoff. “what, throwing your wallet around to intimidate some guy?”

“no,” he says, bumping his shoulder into yours. “having coffee with me.”

you don’t answer right away, but he catches the way your lips twitch like you’re fighting a smile.

jaemin hums. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

you shake your head, exhaling through your nose. “you are something else.”

“and yet, you keep talking to me,” he points out, grin widening.

you hate that he’s right. you hate even more that you don’t actually hate it at all.

—

following the day you met jaemin outside of the gym, you end up right back in the gym, deciding against better judgement to attempt deadlifts.

you’ve watched enough videos, seen people do it effortlessly, and it doesn’t look that hard. at least, that’s what you tell yourself. but after setting up the barbell and bracing yourself, you realize very quickly that maybe you’ve overestimated your abilities.

your grip keeps slipping, your back doesn’t feel quite right, and when you try to pull the weight up, it barely budges.

“need a hand, angel?”

you don’t even have to turn to know it’s jaemin. you exhale sharply, shaking your head. “i got it.”

“mm,” he hums, unconvinced. “that’s cute.”

before you can bite back a sarcastic remark, he steps behind you, far too close for your brain to function properly. his hands find your waist, adjusting you effortlessly, like he’s done this a million times.

“you’re all tense,” he murmurs, voice low near your ear. “relax a little.”

you swallow hard, hyperaware of the heat of his palms. “hard to relax when someone’s all up in my space.”

jaemin chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “you’re welcome to tell me to move.”

you don’t.

instead, you let him guide you, let him adjust your stance by nudging your foot with his, let him drag his hand along your arm to reposition your grip. when you attempt another lift, he follows the movement, hands skimming down your sides in encouragement.

“just like that,” he says, voice smoother than it has any right to be.

you manage to get the bar up, but it’s not the weight making you feel breathless. it’s him.

the second you drop the bar back down, you realize how close you still are, his chest brushing your back as he leans in slightly. “better, right?”

you exhale shakily, nodding. “yeah. better.”

jaemin tilts his head, watching you. his lips curl just slightly, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“you sure?” he teases, voice dipping.

you turn your head just enough to meet his gaze, only now realizing how close your faces are. his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, too fast to be certain, but enough to make your stomach flip.

you wet your lips, your breath still uneven. “positive.”

his smile deepens, and just when you think he might say something else, he steps back, leaving behind nothing but warmth and the frustrating ghost of his touch.

“good,” he says simply, picking up his water bottle. “same time tomorrow?”

you roll your shoulders, trying to shake off the tension he left behind. “yeah. sure.”

jaemin grins, tossing you a wink as he walks off. “can’t wait.”

you don’t realize how long you stand there, gripping your water bottle like it might bring your heart rate back to normal.

you were struggling to lift weight, so why does it feel like he’s the one who completely knocked the air out of you?

—

after the deadlift incident, you found yourself avoiding jaemin. not because you disliked him, but because you weren’t sure how to handle the way he made you feel. his easy confidence, the way he got under your skin without even trying—it was distracting, and the last thing you needed was more distractions.

so, you started going to the gym at night, hoping for some quiet time to focus on your workouts. fewer people, fewer chances of running into him. it seemed like a solid plan.

until you walked in and saw him already there.

jaemin was standing near the squat rack, adjusting weights like he had all the time in the world. he noticed you immediately, a slow grin spreading across his face as he rested his hands on his hips.

“well, well,” he drawled, tilting his head. “didn’t expect to see you here at this hour.”

you sighed, already bracing for whatever he was about to say. “i could say the same to you.”

he shrugged, picking up a towel and tossing it over his shoulder. “what can i say? some of us are just dedicated.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “right.”

jaemin stepped closer, his gaze flicking over you with something unreadable but undeniably amused. “and what about you? didn’t think i’d see you sneaking in for a late-night session. trying to avoid someone?”

your stomach twisted at how easily he caught on. “just thought it’d be quieter,” you said, keeping your voice light. “easier to focus.”

“ah,” he nodded, feigning understanding before smirking. “and yet, here i am. ruining your peaceful gym night.”

you exhaled, shaking your head. “not ruining. just… unexpected.”

jaemin stepped even closer, lowering his voice just enough to make the air between you feel heavier. “unexpected, huh? i’ll take that as a compliment.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he leaned slightly to the side, as if assessing you. “so… what’s the plan for tonight? need another spotter? maybe a personal trainer?”

there was no stopping the laugh that escaped you. “you just don’t quit, do you?”

“not when i see something worth my time,” he shot back smoothly, his grin widening.

the tension was there, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was easy, playful, charged in a way that made you more aware of him than you wanted to be.

you sighed, shaking your head. “let’s just work out, alright?”

jaemin raised his hands in mock surrender, though his eyes still held that teasing glint. “whatever you say.”

and with that, he turned back toward his weights, leaving you standing there, already feeling like you’d lost some unspoken game.

—

the workout should’ve been simple. just you, the machines, and an hour of sweat and focus. but with jaemin there, throwing glances, flashing smirks, making casual comments that left your stomach flipping, it was anything but.

you were halfway through your set when he appeared beside you again, towel draped around his neck, arms crossed as he watched you with an amused expression.

“you sure you don’t need my help?” he asked, voice low, teasing.

you exhaled sharply, adjusting your grip on the bar. “pretty sure i can handle it.”

“mm,” he hummed, stepping just a little closer, enough that you could feel the warmth of him. “i don’t doubt you. but you did come here at night to avoid distractions, right? doesn’t seem like it’s working.”

you shot him a look, only for him to grin like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“you’re talking a lot for someone who’s supposed to be working out,” you muttered, refocusing on your reps.

jaemin didn’t move, just watched as you powered through the set, eyes flickering between your face and the way your body tensed with each movement. when you finally finished, you let out a breath, shaking out your arms.

“see?” you said, lifting your chin. “didn’t need you.”

he laughed under his breath. “sure. you looked good doing it though.”

you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “you flirt with every girl at the gym, or am i just special?”

jaemin leaned in, lowering his voice just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “oh, you’re definitely special.”

your breath hitched, but before you could say anything, he grabbed his water bottle and walked off, leaving you standing there, heart pounding.

damn him.

—

the gym was supposed to be a place of focus, of self-improvement—not whatever this was. not standing here, watching na jaemin wipe the sweat off his forehead, chest still rising and falling from his last set, looking every bit like he belonged on the cover of a sports magazine.

you should’ve walked away the second he caught you staring. but of course, he had to notice.

“see something you like?” his voice was still a little breathless, but that didn’t stop the teasing lilt in his tone.

you scoff, crossing your arms. “just shocked you’re finally breaking a sweat. thought you were invincible for a second.”

he grins, stepping closer. “cute. but you know what’s actually shocking? how long it’s taken me to ask you out.”

your stomach flips, but you mask it with a raise of your brow. “is that so?”

he nods, resting his hands on his hips. “yep. been waiting for the perfect moment, but you keep distracting me.”

“me?” you let out a short laugh. “right, because i’m the one shamelessly flirting while pretending to teach proper form.”

he smirks. “see? you do pay attention.”

you roll your eyes, turning to grab your bag, but he shifts, blocking your path. “just one date,” he says, voice softer now, but still playful. “somewhere nice. no gym memberships required.”

you pause, weighing your options, not that there was ever much of a debate. with a sigh, you shake your head. “fine. one date. but if you show up in a muscle tee, i’m walking out.”

his grin stretches wide. “noted. though i can’t promise you won’t get distracted again.”

you push past him with a groan, but he just laughs, calling after you. “don’t be late, princess. i’ve been waiting long enough.”

—

▸ j.note ; i am hyper fixated on jaemin’s arms sorry not sorry

[meganegatari]

archery coach!ellie whose hands convey more words than her mouth. instead of molding your form with spoken instructions or simply telling you what to do, she takes the liberty to pose you herself, as if you were a prized doll.

"you gotta stand up straighter, and make sure you pull with your back and not with your arm. you're supposed to feel the stretch right here." she jabs in the middle of your shoulder blades with her middle finger, sending a chill down your spine. she's so close, you can't bear to look her in the eye. you briskly nod, and try to feel the thing she was describing.

aim, draw, shoot, and you hit the target. bullseye. "yeah, exactly like that!" she hesitates with her hands outstretched for half a beat, her eyes scanning yours to see if she can ""instruct"" you some more.

her roughened palms graze your ribcage feather-lightly, while she angles you to one side. her breath tickles your earlobe and you think to yourself, when did she get so close, but before you have to process her right hand rises to gingerly run along your jawbone, catching you off guard.

"this is your anchor point, make sure your drawing hand makes contact here, and then pull back—don't forget to breathe—and release." none of this was in actuality even the tiniest bit erotic, but the commanding timbre of her voice sent a fiery blush to the spot she caressed.

when you're struggling with a piece of your equipment, let's say your sling, she's quick to fix it for you, fiddling around with your fingers and slipping the shoelace loop back around your thumb. after making sure youre all set, she retreats to observe you shoot on your own.

you think you're hallucinating when you hear a husky comment, unmistakably in her voice, "thats it, baby. just like i taught you."

ignore me lol bored at practice have this shit thing while i work on real stuff and fistfight my perfectionism demons

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin' abt DadBod!Miguel at the gym <3

You'd been going to the gym routinely, or at least trying to. You decided to go after working up the courage and convincing yourself that this was just for fun. That your body was your temple, and you were tending to it, no matter how it looked <3

The first week wasn't so bad. After embarrassingly tripping on equipment or accidentally dropping weights here and there, it was alright! Though at times, it was still difficult to stay consistent, until one day, you saw him.

Over on the other side of the gym, curling some dumbbells (100s, mind you), was a total 6-foot, thick, hairy dream of a man. You first noticed his chiseled face adorned by fine lines, locks of black hair framing it. With each draw of the weights, his biceps bulged. Beads of sweat trickled down his bulky chest and wide shoulders. When your eyes wander downward, you're surprised to not find washboard abs.

Oh no, what you find instead excites you even more than any pack of abs could offer you.

Your mouth waters slightly to find that his tank top has ridden up slightly over his hefty belly, graciously allowing a peek at a happy trail, its path sadly blocked by some basketball shorts (his cute bubble butt and giant dick print made up for it tho).

Despite his low, breathy grunts and intense crimson gaze towards his own reflection, he was making it look easy. You thought about how easy it'd probably be for him to carry you bride-style and throw you onto a bed before spreading your legs with those enormous hands so he could feast until your eyes crossed. Or how it'd be effortless for him to hold you tightly with your legs wrapped around that stocky midsection of his while he bullied his-

"'scuse me, you waiting for this bench?" a deep voice snaps you out of a daydream. You see the man is now looking at you with what looks like a knowing smirk. Fuck, he noticed you staring.

"Oh! N-no, was just looking for the 10s!" You blurt, evoking a velvety chuckle and dashing smile from him.

"Right over there." He motions with his chin toward the weight rack where the 10s are obviously displayed. After you thanked him, He smiled and nodded back to you, turning back toward the mirror to do his last set.

The second week felt like no problem. Instead of dragging yourself to the gym, you looked forward to it, scanning for your new gym crush every time you entered.

You'd feel a lil surge of happiness when you do find him there, feeling brave enough to exchange smiles and sometimes even little waves from across the gym. One time, the older man made you swoon when he winked at you upon entering the gym. After seeing your cute reaction, this would be how he greeted you every time.

The third week came You're at the squat rack, feeling stronger than usual, so you opt to go the heaviest you've ever gone. Big mistake. By the third rep, you fail to get back up, panicking and legs shaking. Just when you feel yourself start to fall, you see a pair of hands dart toward the bar from behind you, lifting it with ease and allowing you to stand back up. The bar is re-racked and you turn to find gym bae.

"You okay?" he gently prompts, a worried look on his face.

"Yes, thank you... think I might've gone too heavy." you nervously chuckle. He does as well, seeing that you're alright.

"Next time you go for a PR, you need to ask for a spotter, hun." He gives you that dashing smile again, his hands on his love handles.

"Yeah, I probably should've," you lower your head in defeat, "I didn't bring anyone with me though."

"You could've asked me," He says matter of factly as if it should've been obvious that he should be the one to spot you. "I would've done it with no problem, mama." His pet names make your womanhood pulse.

You look back up at him, your lips curled into a shy smile.

"C'mon, let's try again." "No, no, mama, I got that, I'll put it away for you." "Keep your knees like this-theeeere you go. "Gimme one more, mama, just one more, you can do it." "Atta girl! Good job, mamita."

You learned that his name is Miguel. He'd become your designated spotter on leg days, the sensation of his larger frame against yours making you nervous in the best way.

Your favorite is when his tummy accidentally brushes against your back, and borderline, your ass, and if not his tummy, it'd be his prominent bulge (which isn't there bc he gets to spot the adorable girl with an amazing ass from the gym... totally not that).

On the Fourth week, Miguel would ask you if you wanted to be workout buddies altogether. Of course, you accept, in which he asks for your number so like that, he can text you when he's going and vice versa.

It's the fifth week, and you both have worked out together a couple times already. Miguel texted you in the morning asking if you'd like to join him, which you were totally down for.

You two started with lateral pull-downs. Once it was your turn, you sat on the machine and reached for the handle, pulling it as you began your set.

Anytime you felt like you wanted advice or correction, Miguel eagerly helped you.

His hands would stay on your waist, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Mhm, there you go, you're doin' so good, mama." He praises in almost a whisper.

If only he knew he was making the exercise only harder. As if that weren't enough, his finger would occasionally message your hip. Your bodies were so close that you were able to hear each satisfied hum from his lips, suggesting you were doing the exercise right.

"Good girl, that was better. You feel it now?" He says, letting go to let you off the machine.

"Yeah, thank you! When it comes to upper body, I'll need all the help I can get. I'm just glad I’m getting it from an upper-body master." You flirtatiously add, playfully poking at one of his biceps.

This makes him blush, but only for a moment before he returns with a cocky response, "Thanks, hun. I'm glad to be working out with a leg-day goddess."

Now it was your turn to blush, except you didn't have any smart comeback, boosting Miguel's ego.

"Listen, let me treat you to smoothie after this, yeah?" He says it more like a statement than a request, and you happily oblige.

What you were expecting was a simple, cheap smoothie from a spot you usually go to, but instead, you're met with a drive-thru menu listing shakes from $20 and up. Oh he got moneyyyy.

Miguel tells you to pick any that looks good to you. He orders for himself and you as well, parking the car once the two of you get the smoothies.

As he sips from the cup, you take the opportunity to subtly glance at his figure, his muscles, how his pecs sit beautifully on top of his soft belly, his thighs constrained by the confines of his gym shorts. You think how badly you wanna sit there, grinding on the print 'til there was a wet spot-

"Something on your mind, mama?" You look back at him, taking a few seconds to register his words.

You hastily look back down at your drink and shake your head, “Nothing… thank you so much for this, it’s delicious!”

then he grabs the shoulder of your chair to lean toward you, “Of course, mama, but I don’t think you’re being completely truthful with me, hm?”

You look at him, playfully shaking your head again, knowing full well you’ve been caught.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, hm? dime.” He puts the smoothie into the cup holder to free his other hand, placing it on your thigh, and softly squeezes it. “Just say the word, and you’ll get anything you want.”

Your lips curl slyly as you think of a response.

“Well… we never did cardio.”

Now you were here in his car, being bounced on his fat dick on the passenger seat, holding onto his his big shoulders for dear life. You were basically his fleshlight at this point… with those big hands.

You could feel his body now taut against yours, your tits bouncing relentlessly, his muscled, thick thighs below your ass, his balls slapping against your pussy lips, his bush tickling your clit, his pelvis pushing your ass up and his curved belly against your front side. It all was sending you into euphoria.

With you vigorously bouncing on his cock and his beautiful moaning, you fully let go. “Aw yes, Daddy,“ you mumbled without thinking.

In fact, you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was this fat cock and your pussy was memorizing all its veins and curves.

“Mmfuck baby, yea, say that again f’me”, he groaned through gritted teeth as he mercilessly bounced you down his painfully hard shaft.

“Please, Daddy, please!” You whined with your hands desperately seeking support on his big shoulders.

You can feel the sheet of sweat on his belly and on his thighs, which turned the smacking of your ass sound even more lewd.

“Fuck, say it again.” He growled, getting faster now.

“Mmmm, Daddy— Daddy, pleaseeee.”

“Louder, baby, c’mon—“

“UNGH DADDYYYY”

“Oh FUCK… you wanted cardio, baby, I’ll give you cardio… fuckin’ take it… coño.” Your panting became synchronized with every pound of his cock into your abused and bruised cunt, getting higher and higher in pitch, firing him up to go faster and harder.

“Gonna cum on this fat cock, right? Gonna cum f’me, mami?” He ordered, dropping octaves from his usual gentle tone with you.

“Mmmnn, Nnyesyyesyesyes—“ you babbled, the shakiness of your voice the result of the aggressive bouncing.

“Ah… carajo…” his cock accidentally slips out from your cunt, making you wince from the sudden empty sensation.

Holding up your ass, he takes a moment to admire the view, hissing from the sight of his angrily red cock and veins pulsing from your cunt sucking him in so deliciously. A ring of your cream erotically placed at the base of his length, just above his perfect bush. He guides his fat tip back to your dripping cunt using his thumb, pushing it back into your swollen folds.

He was back to ramming into your abused cunt in no time, chasing each others high’s.

“C’mon…fuck, c’mon, mama, you’re almost there…. Aw f-fuck… almost there…” he moans with his brows knitted and through a clenched jaw.

“Daddy I’m g’na— I’m cummingimcummingimcumming—“

“Aw, fuck, asi— asi mami— ah, ah…” Miguel holds back choked whines as he get closer, not allowing himself to let go until he knew you came first.

You speak in gibberish before crying into your climax, Miguel letting out a long, exasperated groan when he reaches his. You can feel his hot cum overfilling you, making you whine as it leaks down your thigh.

After draining himself completely, making sure every drop was in you, he gently pulls out, “Fuck… you did so good for me, mama… so good.”

Miguel lets you rest against his heaving chest and soft belly, rubbing your back as you caught your breath. You smiled a tired smile when you notice how hard Miguel is breathing as well, knowing you worked him out, too.

“You ok, mamita?” He plants a tender kiss on your shoulder, making a trail up your neck and finally to your forehead.

“Mhm,” you hum, you look up at him and are met with his plump, wet lips, tongues becoming entangled with each other as he groans into your mouth.

“I say… we do cardio like this every day.”

A/n: Haiii, I hope u liked it <3 Love my man sm <3 None of my gym baes could ever compare to himmmmm😭😭😭

@angel-of-the-moons Ty Ty Ty my luv for planting the seed in my head <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

[ovaryacted]

STAY RIGHT THERE! IM COMING RIGHT OVER BAE!

[frownyalfred]

Broke: Dick hates being Batman because he’s his own vigilante and doesn’t want the responsibility of the cowl

Woke: Dick hates being Batman because he has to bulk for a few weeks beforehand in order to look convincing in the suit

I feel like Dick gets the heads up text from Bruce, groans, and turns around to hit Costco for chicken breast and greek yogurt.

Because he’s muscular as Nightwing, absolutely, but he’s not carrying as much muscle on a given day like Jason and Bruce are. He needs to be more agile than them, and as a result he’s a little leaner.

Taking on the cowl, even temporarily, means bulking up as quickly as possible. Because even if he pads the suit, the goons don’t know that. They’re still gonna hit Batman like he’s carrying the same amount of mass.

[undiagnosedcruelty]

Wait, You Like Me?

Pairing: S.changbin x GenderNeutral!reader

Summary: Gym rule #1: Always track your progress. Gym rule #2: Don’t let your ridiculously handsome gym buddy read your sparkly pink notebook.

Genre: fluff + comedy

────────────────────────────────────────

────────────────────────────────────────

Content Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, gym setting, weightlifting, accidental confession, teasing, light embarrassment, lots of banter, soft!Changbin

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: one glance at my old pink diary and i was immediately reminded of changbin.

────────────────────────────────────────

EVERYTHING WRITTEN IS PURELY FICTION──NOTHING IS DIRECTLY RELATED TO ANY REAL LIFE EVENTS.

The gym was alive with movement, the rhythmic clanking of weights mixing with the steady hum of treadmills and the occasional grunt of someone pushing their limits. The scent of sweat, metal, and faint traces of disinfectant lingered in the air. Overhead, fluorescent lights cast a cool, artificial glow, bouncing off the mirrors that lined the walls.

And in the middle of it all, you were dying.

"One more," Changbin urged, standing behind you as you struggled with the bench press. His voice was firm but encouraging, the kind of tone that made people believe they could do anything—even when their muscles were screaming otherwise.

You gritted your teeth. "I hate you."

He chuckled, hands hovering just beneath the bar in case you needed a last-second save. "Nah, you love me."

Your breath hitched, and for a second, your focus wavered. The barbell wobbled dangerously in your grip.

"Hey—focus!" Changbin scolded, quickly grabbing the bar to steady it. He helped guide it back onto the rack with ease before turning to you, an amused smirk playing at his lips. "You good?"

No. Absolutely not. Not when he says stuff like that so casually.

You sat up, wiping sweat from your forehead and trying to compose yourself. It was fine. You were used to this. You and Changbin had been gym buddies for nearly a year now, meeting up almost every day to push each other harder, faster, stronger. It had started as a casual thing—just a mutual agreement to keep each other accountable.

But somewhere along the way, between the spotting sessions and the post-workout snack runs, you caught feelings.

Horrible, heart-racing, stomach-flipping feelings.

Of course, you kept them to yourself. Changbin was your friend. He was the one who hyped you up after PRs, who teased you relentlessly when you skipped leg day, who offered you his hoodie when the gym was too cold. There was no way he felt the same.

Which is why you wrote everything down instead.

Your gym notebook was a mess of progress logs, workout routines, and… unfortunately, the occasional Changbin-related brain dump. Somewhere between scribbling notes on new lifting techniques and tracking your reps, you'd let your thoughts slip—admiring how dedicated he was, how his laugh made your worst days better, how his arms looked absolutely sculpted by the gods.

And now, thanks to your own carelessness, that notebook was about to ruin your life.

You had been flipping through it earlier, waiting for Changbin to finish his last set of shoulder presses. Too tired to think, you’d placed it absentmindedly on the bench beside you while you stretched, completely forgetting about it when you moved to grab a towel.

That’s when Changbin noticed it.

“What’s this?” he asked, squatting down next to the bench, his towel draped over his shoulder. His eyes lit up with genuine curiosity as he picked it up, tilting it slightly in the light.

Oh. Oh no.

You turned just in time to see him admiring your gym notebook like it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. And honestly? That reaction wasn’t surprising.

Because your notebook was pink. Not just pink—glittery pink, with tiny silver stars embedded in the cover. You had bought it on impulse, thinking it would make gym journaling a little less boring. You forgot that Changbin loved pink.

“This is kinda sick,” he murmured, flipping it over in his hands. “Where’d you get this?”

You blinked. “Uh—why?”

He grinned, tapping the cover. “Because it’s pink. And it sparkles.”

Of course. Of course, this would be the reason he suddenly cared about your notebook. “Changbin, put that down,” you said quickly, stepping toward him.

He raised an eyebrow at your suspiciously panicked tone. “What? I just wanna see what you’re writing—”

And then, before you could snatch it back, someone walked past the bench too fast and bumped into it, knocking the notebook straight out of Changbin’s hands.

The glittery pink cover flopped open.

Changbin instinctively bent down, picking it up before you could even react. And that was the beginning of the end.

His eyes flicked across the page, his amused grin fading as he actually started reading. A beat of silence. His expression shifted. His fingers curled a little tighter around the edges of the notebook.

Your stomach plummeted.

His brow furrowed. His grip tightened slightly. His expression shifted from casual curiosity to something unreadable.

"Wait…" His voice came slower this time. "You like me?"

Silence. The earth had officially stopped turning. The gym noises seemed to fade into a distant hum, like someone had pressed mute on the world.

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You felt hotter than you had during the entire workout.

Changbin glanced between the notebook and you, flipping to another page as if double-checking. You knew exactly what he was reading—tiny notes about how much you admired him, how he made you laugh, how you loved training with him.

And then, he did the absolute worst thing he could do.

He laughed.

“Wait—” He ran a hand through his damp hair, still grinning. “You—me?”

Your stomach twisted. You groaned, covering your face with both hands. “Please, let me die in peace.”

There was a pause before you heard the notebook slip from his grasp, dropping to the floor. It’s pink, glitter covered glory already doomed to be forgotten. His fingers brushed yours—warm, steady, grounding—as he gently pried your hands away from your face.

"Good," he murmured.

Your brows furrowed. "Good?"

Changbin’s smile softened. "Because I like you too."

Your heart stopped. "You—what?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really didn’t notice, huh? I’ve been dropping hints for months."

You blinked. "HINTS? What hints?"

He crossed his arms, smirking. "Oh, I don’t know—offering to train with you even though I usually work out alone? Letting you pick the music even though your playlist is a mess? Carrying your bag when it’s literally lighter than a dumbbell?"

Your mouth opened, then closed. That… didn’t mean anything. Right?

He scoffed, tilting his head toward the notebook. "Oh? And writing ‘His arms are literally sculpted by the gods’ in here does?"

Your soul left your body.

"YOU READ THAT?!"

Changbin burst out laughing, doubling over as you smacked his arm repeatedly.

"Stop laughing!" you whined, trying to grab the notebook, but he easily dodged, still grinning.

His laughter softened after a moment, and when he looked at you again, there was something different in his expression—something warm, something real.

“Come on,” he murmured, his fingers curling around yours, thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Now that it’s out there… let’s do something about it.”

You swallowed. "Like… what?"

Changbin smirked. "Like letting me take you on a date, dummy."

And just like that, all the tension, the nerves, the embarrassment—it melted away. Because this was Changbin. And suddenly, liking him didn’t feel so scary anymore.

Later that night, you checked your gym notebook, flipping through it’s pink glory to where he had read. And there, scrawled in messy new handwriting at the bottom of the page, was:

"For the record, your arms aren’t too bad either…..and your thighs too. 😉 - CB"

[webbluvrsugar]

in a different world, Rafe would be one of those gym bros…

No cause he would be very smooth with his plans, he would see you all the way up from where you’re doing your Pilates class, and when you’re not taking a class, he would glance at you when you’re doing legs and be sneaky about it, and when in the middle of your sets, he sees you refilling your drink with one of those fruity mixes you love so much, he smiles, approaches you from behind like those classic moves, claiming he didn’t see you and playing around with how short you are compared to him, just that typical chad you know, and somehow it works on you. He leans against the fountain drink dispenser and flips his cap back, looks up and down at you with a smirk on the corner of his lips, tells you that if you ever need help on your sets that he doesn’t mind helping, he’s free anytime - even when he’s training - so you smile, nod and leave with the bottle on your lips, walking around with your little shorts back to your machine as you feel the look he’s giving straight to your ass, pretending you don’t notice his techniques.

You bite into it, start asking more and more for his help cause “chest is so hard to do rafey, I can’t do it alone.” and he likes it, likes feeling needed and likes that he’s helping you on something you pretend to not know how to do, acting all girly and feminine next to him because you’re low-key into it, into the toxic masculinity he expresses, so eventually you give him you’re number and go on a few dates, you lead him onto your bed to see if what he says is really true and he’s nasty with it. rough. careless.

He’s pounding you onto the bed while he makes you take it face down, one hand fisting your hair as he presses your face on the mattress, the other occasionally marking your butt with slaps because he says “that sweet lil’ ass has been tempting me for too long now.” you clench around him and cry out underneath - drooling the pillow underneath you and whining - he only scoffs, smirks and slaps you harder, “know that shit turns you on, look at her, clenching ‘round my dick like a vice.” and he’s right, because all of this does turn you on, his groans on your ear as he acts like he doesn’t care about nothing but your cunt and the way you arch for him, the filthy things he says.

“Not going tomorrow are you? don’t even know if you’ll be walk.” and you can’t answer him, you’re too busy moaning, whining and crying, because the man on top of you has a lot of stamina and you can’t handle it, and when he’s finally done, letting you go with a final slap on your ass, he gets off from your bed, throws the condom away and leaves, you have no idea if he’ll text you or not, if you were just a good lay, but it passes a few days and he’s asking you out on a date.

[goldenspringmornings]

acotar definitely has the worst mmc’s in modern romantasy cause why can I not think of one single interest rhysand has outside of feyre like damn this series is really gonna make me give edward cullen his flowers cause at least he had a life outside of bella😭

[jakekazansky]

I need like a fic where Jake and Bradley are exes and when Bradley broke up with him Jake threatened to marry his dad and become his stepdad so Bradley will never get fully rid of him (they’re like twenty ish and in the academy (Jake has no idea about Bradley’s family at all)). And I’m not talking maverick. I’m talking fully alive goose who is estranged from his son (he survived the crash and took a desk job and is now and admiral)

Maybe Jake and goose meet in a bar while both are off duty. Jake is drunk and missing how a mustache feels when someone goes down on him. So he sees this hot older dude and somehow they fuck (in a hotel). Then they keep fucking whenever they’re near each other.

Eventually, Nick invites jake to his home after a date and then after they start dating. Eventually Jake finds out he’s an admiral, and meets his top gun buddies. It comes out eventually that Nick has a son he’s estranged from. Jake never puts together that Nick and Bradley have the same last name. A while later Jake and Nick get married for reasons.

Cue the mission. Now Bradley is on good terms with Ice and Mav but not his dad. Nick is around to help oversee the mission. The actual mission happens and Mav and Bradley are shot down. During that time, mav convinces Bradley to try and mend his relationship with his dad.

Bradley follows through on that promise. So ice and mav take him over to Goose’s new house. In the driveway they warn Bradley that his dad started seeing someone and married them during Bradley’s absence in goose’s life.

So the whole talking things out is going great and Nick and Bradley have agreed to try to have a father-son relationship again. When Bradley asks about his dad’s new partner (the boy is blind and has yet to notice the pictures all over the house) and that’s when he hears it

“Goosey! I’m home!”

Jake comes in and Nick is like ‘this is my son Bradley. Bradley, this is my husband Jake’

And Bradley has that flashback to their break up. Jake has the most evil smile on his face (he loves Nick but the coincidence is just too good) when he says ‘Told ya I’d be your step-dad one day’

Then Jake and Bradley have to explain they used to date and Nick has a whole crisis over fucking (and then marrying) the same man his son used to.

[elliebarker]

keepin’ it steady ( a. anderson )

category: gym-rat!abby x gf!reader blurb 

author’s note: inspired by this post…ty @iiseor, i don’t workout so all my knowledge for this post comes from those two guys on tt who do gym skits.

with hands tightly clasped behind her head– for better form or to keep her hands off you is debatable– your girlfriend, abby, began lifting her hips up and down, in crunch-like formation. only, this time she wasn’t using a weight. she had you sitting on top of her lap whilst she was exercising.

“quit moving,” abby said, in reply to you shifting our weight; trying to find a spot in which her pelvic bones were stabbing into your thighs.

“i’m trying the best i can abs.”

“it’s alright, sweetheart, just trying to make sure my reps are even,” she replied, “keepin’ it steady.”

“this good?” you say, adjusting your weight to around the middle.

“it's perfect.” abby slurred. and my wow, did that give you butterflies. yes, she might've said it solely to get you to stop moving, but there in the moment, hands on her chest, that was so goddamn intoxicating. you thought back to earlier this morning…the two of you had sat down for coffee and breakfast and abby had something on her phone she was pulling up for you.

“wouldn’t that be so cool?” you looked at her like she was insane. 

“you're telling me, you want me to be on top of you while you workout?” you asked, smirking at abby. 

“c'mon baby, please?” she begged.

“i don’t know…” you replied, “i think i might weigh too much. plus don’t you need to focus on the goals you're already lifting?”

“aw, baby,” she cupped your face, “nothing’s too heavy for me.” she boosted. “plus, you're the weight i need to be focusing on,” she said, winking at you. abby’s voice then dragged you out of your reflection to that morning

“you know you can take your hands off right?” abby snarked, ”you're not gonna fall, girl.”

“what?” you said, “oh,” lifting your hands off her chest and crossing them against your chest. abby finished her set, tapping you on your back– a signal to stand up– and then went to cool down, as you made your way to the locker room.