#like him in a sleeveless black muscle tee

[thefty-o]

Arab uncle drains his nephew

Samir yawned and stretched as he got out of bed, his dusky olive skin contrasting against the crisp white of his cotton thobe. At 45, the Lebanese father of three was starting to feel his age. He caught a glimpse of himself in the ornate gilt-framed mirror and sighed. While he'd never been a large man, his formerly lean physique was starting to soften, his stomach rounding out above his sirwal and his arms losing their wiry tone.

"Yallah, I need to start exercising again," he muttered to himself, stroking his neatly trimmed beard.

As he headed to the bathroom, he nearly collided with a wall of tawny muscle. His nephew Tariq, who was staying with them for the summer, loomed in the doorway, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat from his morning prayers and calisthenics. The 20-year-old was an absolute Adonis, his tall, powerful frame packed with perfectly sculpted brawn, straining the seams of his sleeveless white thobe. His traditional red and white shemagh was slightly askew, untamed black curls peeking out, framing his striking aquiline features and smoldering dark eyes.

"Sabah al-khair, 'Ammu Samir," Tariq rumbled in his deep, resonant baritone, his voice rich with the musical cadence of Levantine Arabic. "You look like you could use some cardamom coffee to put some pep in your step, old man. I know your constitution isn't what it used to be."

Samir flushed, biting back a retort. "Shukran, but I think I can manage," he said stiffly. It was just good-natured ribbing, he told himself, even as he felt a pang of envy at Tariq's effortless virility. What he wouldn't give for a taste of that youthful power and vigor.

As he brushed past Tariq into the bathroom, their bare arms touched. Instantly, Samir felt a jolt of electricity crackle through him. He gasped, bracing himself against the marble sink as a wave of dizziness washed over him. In the mirror, he swore his reflection was... changing?

Before his eyes, the soft flab melted off his frame. His midsection tightened, hints of abs peeking through the gap in his thobe. His arms and legs regained the lean, wiry musculature of his youth, his biceps filling out the sleeves of his undershirt. His slouched shoulders straightened and broadened, his posture improving to project a newfound confidence. He looked robust, vital, like a man ten years younger.

Tariq suddenly shuddered in the mirror behind him and Samir startled. Was his nephew slouching? Samir could have sworn that he used to be eye level with the boy's plump pecs, but now he was staring right into their center.

"Mashallah, 'Ammu, looking good," Tariq said, clapping a massive paw on Samir's newly sturdy shoulder. "A few months training with me and inshallah, you'll be almost as big and strong as your nephew, eh?"

He threw Samir a wink and sauntered out, his sandaled feet nearly cracking the marble tile with each heavy step. Samir shook his head wryly. Tariq had always been a big boy - clearly took after his father's side. Perhaps with this newfound energy, he would take the young man up on his offer to get back in shape.

...

A few days later, Samir found himself in the makeshift gym in the garage, spotting Tariq as he benched a truly prodigious amount of weight, grunting Arabic encouragements. Tariq's performance was flagging slightly, his reps slower and more labored than last week. He was still monstrously strong, but perhaps not the utterly untouchable mountain of power he'd been before.

As they racked the weights and sat up, Tariq's sweaty arm brushed Samir's... and again, that electric jolt, that head rush. Samir watched in awe as his own arms seemed to swell before his eyes, his biceps and triceps growing, pulsing with vascular striations. His shoulders broadened, stretching his sweat-soaked sleeveless tee. Pectoral muscles barreled out above his tight six-pack, two brawny slabs of beef heaving with new mass.

It was as if he'd gained 20 lbs of muscle on the spot. He looked like he lifted seriously now, his frame dense with carved, powerful sinew and brawn. Tariq, on the other hand, while still unquestionably huge and imposing, seemed slightly... diminished. A little shorter, a tad less impossibly broad and thick. He looked more like the biggest, buffest guy at the mosque now rather than an avatar of masculine perfection.

"Wallahi, 'Ammu!" Tariq exclaimed, a note of surprise and something almost like unease creeping into his usually unflappably cocky tone. "What's your secret? I swear you get bigger by the day!"

Samir just smirked and flexed a bulging bicep, feeling a thrill as he watched his nephew's gaze widen with shock and awe at the size and definition. "Maybe you've been slacking on the halal meat, son," he teased. "Need to get more protein to maintain those gains."

Tariq just laughed, but there was a strained quality to it, his dark eyes flickering with an unsettled light. "We'll see, old man. Race you to the shisha lounge?"

He took off, and if his stride was a bit less than its usual loping, ground-devouring, leg-powered swagger, Samir didn't comment. He followed at an easier pace, enjoying the unfamiliar heft and solidity of his new, enhanced muscles. Something had shifted between them, and they could both feel it.

...

A week later, Samir woke up feeling like a new man. No, like a king, a titan, a conqueror of old. He practically bounded out of bed, 250 lbs of densely packed, heavily striated Arab muscle quivering and flexing with coiled power. He felt invincible, brimming with vitality, virility, and masculine energy straining to be unleashed.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror and had to stifle a shout of triumphant joy. He was magnificent, his tall, heroically proportioned body an anatomy chart of musculature, all broad planes and deep cuts and hulking, vein-streaked brawn. His thobe had ridden up as he slept, exposing a mastodon cock throbbing half-mast against his deeply corrugated abs, a thick, wrist-thick pillar of pride and potency. His heavy balls churned visibly in their overstuffed sack, swollen with seed and the sacred essence of a true alpha.

"Allahu akbar," Samir breathed reverently. He was a living incarnation of the male ideal now, a pinnacle of strength and virility that surpassed any man he had ever known - including, he realized with a dark thrill, his nephew Tariq. He could feel it in his gigantic, steel-cable muscles, his raging monsoon of testosterone-fueled might - he was the dominant one now, the apex predator. Tariq had nothing on him anymore.

As if on cue, there was a tentative knock on the door. "'Ammu Samir?" came Tariq's voice, reedy and thin in contrast to the booming bass Samir remembered. "I, uh, I think there may have been a mixup with our clothes at the laundry. I seem to have shrunk out of a lot of mine somehow..."

"Faddal," Samir called, his voice a low, authoritative rumble that vibrated through his cavernous chest. Enter.

The boy who slunk through the door was barely recognizable as the swaggering erotic demigod of a few weeks ago. Oh, he was still handsome enough in a coltish, pretty boy way, with an athletic swimmer's build, but next to Samir's towering, mega-muscled hypermasculinity he looked downright scrawny. His eyes widened to saucers and his full lips parted in an audible gasp as he took in his uncle's massive, naked body, his gaze immediately drawn to the throbbing log of manflesh sitting heavily atop Samir's deeply ribbed washboard midsection.

"M-Maa shaa' Allah, 'Ammu," Tariq stammered, face flushed, a visible tenting rising in his loose sirwal. "You... what... I mean... Subhan Allah, you're enormous..."

"Alhamdulillah," Samir purred, flexing his planetoid biceps with a low growl of power, his pecs and lats flaring out even wider, his cock jumping and pulsing against his abs. "What's wrong, little one? Never seen a real man before? Intimidated to be in the presence of your true alpha uncle?"

Tariq made a small, choked noise, his eyes glazing over with lust and worship, his lithe body trembling. The boy was clearly in thrall to Samir's extreme muscularity, the raw sexual power and masculinity rolling off him in waves. He looked ready to fall to his knees and service his supreme elder on the spot.

"Don't worry, nephew. You'll have plenty of time to get acquainted with your new place," Samir rumbled, voice thick with sadistic amusement, reaching out to roughly palm Tariq's pretty face with one huge, calloused mitt. "Wallahi, I'm going to enjoy breaking you in. By the time I'm done with this little zakar of yours, you'll be my perfect little eromenos. The only thing that overactive aql of yours will be able to think about is worshipping your 'Ammu's ripped, massive body."

Slowly, almost tenderly, he pushed his thumb into Tariq's slack mouth, making the boy gag and sputter as he forced it in up to the knuckle.

"Shh, shh, just submitted," Samir crooned darkly as Tariq's eyes bulged and watered, weakly trying to pull away. "Salim and accept your place, little one. You're going to become very familiar with parts of 'Ammu much bigger than this."

And with his other hand, he reached down and grabbed the root of his titanically engorged manhood, slowly, almost lovingly smacking his nephew's spit-slick cheek with the girthy, vein-ravaged shaft.

"Mmm, such a pretty little face," he groaned, his voice a low Arabic growl. "Going to look even better stretched around my horse cock. Open up, 'azizi. Your new life as 'Ammu's sharmuta starts now."

And with that, he pulled his thumb out only to replace it with the blunt, leaking head of his inhumanly huge erection, groaning in pure alpha male bliss as he watched his nephew's throat visibly distend and bulge obscenely around his girth.

Oh yes, this was going to be very good indeed, Samir thought as he prepared to orally break in his new fuck toy. And it was only the beginning of Tariq's training to be the perfect submissive receptacle for his dominant alpha seed...

[butwhyduh]

Locker Room

Summary: Post workout locker rooms are like their own world. Especially Titan’s tower.

Warning: smut. Don’t do this irl

“Good job, everybody,” Nightwing said with a grin. He has barely had a glean of sweat to show he was even working out. “Practice your individual skills or hit the showers.”

Half the people walked out and the other found their own niche. You were laying on your back on the cool mat just trying to not die. A shadow stood over you.

“Need help,” said a soft male voice above you before offering a hand. Tall and built like a brick, there was a lot to be intimidated of the Red Hood. But wearing gym shorts and a sleeveless hoodie that had headphone strings sticking out made him seem so normal.

He pulled you up to stand. He was so pretty with wavy black hair with just a tuff of white. You’d watched him plenty but rarely interacted with him.

“Will I ever get used to this,” you asked with a huff of laughter. You tried to ignore the way his sweaty hoodie stuck to his skin in certain places.

“No? Yes? I can’t take Goldie seriously but,” he shrugged. “Maybe you should drink your water next time?” He offered while tossing you the bottle. You chugged it like you had been walking in a desert for a month. “Wow,” he said, watching the water messily fall on your shirt that was already drenched. If you wouldn’t have to clean it up, you’d probably pour the water on your head.

Realizing you had an audience to your gremlin behavior, you tried to wipe the water from your mouth but it wasn’t exactly helpful as you were soaking wet.

“Yeah maybe more inside than out. I’ve got hit the showers,” he said, bemused.

“Same,” you replied.

The showers were more like a locker room with little stalls with paltry curtains that were only a little more private than just open stalls but everyone used them as if normal. Most people understood the unspoken rules but there had been more than one time where you’d seen kori brushing her hair in the nude by a mirror completely oblivious to the social norms.

You didn’t even bother with the hot water but relaxed into the cold water finally cooling your overheated skin. It didn’t take much for you to relax into the shower and forget about the outside world. A full 30 minutes later you were pruny and decided to climb out of the water.

Forgoing the bra and sweatpants, you just slid into your oversized tee shirt like dress. You were just going to your room where you would veg and watch Netflix. Most people had already left to go do whatever they needed and you could finally see the mirror to brush your own hair.

“‘Scuse me,” said a man to your right and you scooted over as the Red Hood slid up to the sink with a shave kit. You didn’t even know what to call him outside of work. And his pretty blue eyes kept your attention longer than you’d admit.

“I’ve never seen you without a mask,” you said. He shrugged.

“Seems like a shower would be a safe spot. It’s just my eyes I cover anyways,” he added.

You couldn’t just stare into his eyes so you looked down and boy was that a mistake. He had a huge y shaped scar that you didn’t even want to know how he got but you couldn’t help but notice how insanely fit he was. He definitely had visible muscle but it was also clear the boy could put some food away.

You tried to focus on your own stuff while he shaved. He wasn’t meat to stare at.

“I don’t even know your real name or what else to call you besides Red Hood,” you added.

“Oh… you can call me Jason,” he replied softly. He stretched his neck to better reach a spot and you looked at the cord of muscle that moved. Did he know he was beautiful??

“You missed a spot,” you said when it looked like he was going to rinse his face, not that you had been watching. He looked in the mirror but it was on the underside of his jaw. “No, here,” you said pointing to the spot. He turned and missed it with the razor.

“Here?”

“No, can I?” You asked and he handed you his razor. You gently turned his face to run the razor along the underside of his jaw. Your skin heated up as he watched you shave his face. Somehow you had slid between him and the sink to get at the spot. “It’s on both sides,” you said and he willingly turned his neck the opposite direction.

He smelled nice like a mint soap and you could see the dampness of his skin being this close. Your own lack of clothing felt obvious at this point. He could probably see your nipples if he wanted to. What did this look like?

“Got it?” He asked and you just nodded and handed him to razor. He sat it behind you and grabbed the towel on your other side to wipe his face. He had caged you in but you didn’t mind. In fact your heart was hammering in your chest.

His eyes looked down at you and down your clothing, stopping for a few seconds at your chest before returning to your eyes. You looked down at his mouth. He leaned down until he was just a breath from your lips.

It took just a tilt of your head to press your lips to his. He gripped the sink as you kissed. You slid a hand up behind his neck to pull him closer. He took it as an invitation to push you up on the counter. You gasped and wrapped both arms around his neck.

One arm held your hip as the other did its best to thread in your hair. His tongue swiped across your lip and you opened your mouth with a little moan. Fuck. You never imagined you’d do this. You pulled back just enough to bite his lip and he groaned while placing his hand on your thigh.

Barely controlling himself, he pulled his lips back only to rest his forehead on yours.

“Not here,” he breathed and you weren’t sure if he meant to tell you or himself.

“No one is here,” you said pulling him even closer with your legs around his waist. His lips instantly met yours with a desperation that wasn’t there a minute before. He pushed you back with his kisses and your back pressed against the mirror while your shirt did little to hide your underwear with your thighs open.

“Fuck,” he breathed when you began kissing your way down his neck. One of your hands slid down his chests, feeling the muscles move with each breath, each side of your hand down. His hand gripped your thigh tightly as if to control himself. But as you slid your fingers along the crotch of his gym shorts, he seemed to lose control. His hand slid up your thigh to cup your pussy through your panties and you could feel a pulse in your clit.

He was growing hard in your hands as you massaged and stroked him. He pulled back from kissing to nip at your collarbone and down your chest. Only his other hand behind your back kept you from falling over as he bent to take your peaked nipple in his mouth. You arched into his touch as his mouth teased your breast while his fingers slid along your slit through your panties.

You pressed your fingers through the band of his pants to grip him properly. “Fuck,” he gasped and you grinned. He pushed your panties to the side to properly finger you. You almost arched off the counter as he slid two fingers inside you. You both just enjoyed the sensation for a minute of pleasuring each other.

“Want you,” you breathed in his ear and he whined. You shoved his pants down and his hood pushed forward until you could feel his tip next to your core.

“You sure,” he asked as if it took every part of him to remain calm.

“Fuck me,” you replied and that’s all it took for him to push in. He pulled your shirt off before starting to thrust. One hand held your hip tightly and his lips desperately kissed you.

The door to the locker room opened and Jason just growled, “get the fuck out,” but didn’t stop. The door closed suddenly. You knew in the future you be mortified but right now the only thing you cared about was making him keep doing the things he was doing to you.

It took just a few runs of his thumb across your clit to have you clenching around him while gasping his name. He thrust through your high before pulling out to cum on your stomach. You both panted and stared at each other.

“Fuck,” Jason said while giving you a towel to clean off with. You sat up awkwardly. Did he regret it already? “I didn’t mean- shit- I was trying to ask you out,” he huffed out with an awkward laugh. “Not this.”

“I mean- you still can,” you replied while pulling your shirt on.

“Do you wanna-“

“Thought you’d never ask. There’s this restaurant I’ve been wanting to try,” you replied before he could even ask. He huffed a laugh.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

Banging on the locker room door made you jump. “If you hoes are done, I need a shower! Don’t forget to clean up!” Called a recognizable voice from outside the door.

“Go away Roy,” Jason called.

“Congrats bro! Finally! But hurry up!”

You flushed and you both laughed. “Finally?”

“Don’t ask.”

[lovinglylibelle]

—𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐮𝐩 { pt. 3 }

pt1 || pt2 || pt4

masterlist || navigation

moodboards will be posted after the series<3

✧. GOJO SATORU

Okay we all know that he is a diva but actually he doesn't try to be. I know its shocking but somehow whatever he wears, he serves.

He knows he looks good and whats worse is that he knows how to make himself look even better. it just comes to him naturally.

firmly believes that the reason Megumi is able to dress well is because of his influence (he is so obsessed with himself istg)

Has a very very diverse style, wears whatever looks good on him.

Usually its a button up with trousers and a belt to accentuate his thin waist. Such a show off

Likes the color: white, beige, light purplish-blue, gray and black. Thinks they looks the most classy and decent out of all. i agree with him.

Also wears colours like olive green, dusty rose etc but very rarely.

Has a lot of sunglasses obviously, circle ones, oval ones and etc etc. Got them in various colors too, matches them according to his outfit or just wears his signature black round glasses.

WILL ALWAYS have the top two buttons undone showing his cleavage, and his sleeves rolled up to show his forearm muscles. Such a *****

Wears silver accessories cause they compliment his skin tone. Mainly wears a watch just for the vibes. sometimes wears rings too, says it brings attention to his humongous hands.

Sometimes wears normal shirts, when he is going for something more casual (its very rare because he LOVES to be overdressed for every occassion,)

He is very extra and even in simple outfits, he looks extra.

In winters, he wears coats, trench coats, normal coats whatever.

AND HIGHNECKS OMGGGGGGGG

OH AND, he actually quite likes wearing coats. Oversized coats with trousers and plain tees is something he loves but won't admit it cause he doesn't want to clash with NANAMI out of everyone in the world.

✧. GETO SUGURU

Resident Badboy™

Bro loves Black and only black, will not be caught dead with any other color in existence except for maybe charcoal or gray or a different shade of black.

Has a very weird sense of style honestly but manages to pull it off, pairs traditional outfits with western stuff somehow.

You know those bosozoku style of clothes that the toman gang wore, he has a lot of pants that look like that. Only the pants.

Wears button up shirts, black obviously along with that and other bottoms that he has.

He wears leather jackets. Again, a signature bad boy thing. He has a lot of different styles of those, some have multiple zippers, some have a lot of buckles, some are just plain and some have patches etc etc.

Has an emo typa vibe going, i mean he is sorta emo so

Would wear tattoo sleeves when he is wearing short sleeves or sleeveless things.

OMG WAIT, HE LOVESSSSSS to wear black tanktops.His muscles look so delicious in those and with that sexy manbun of his KTKSJTIDI AAA

Has a lot of puffer jackets and crew necks for winter.

OKAY SO HE ALSO WEARS THOSE LEATHER GLOVES that bikers wear. ones without the fingers. why the fuck do i keep making his hotter.

CHAINS. yes he wears a lotttttt of chains, some are religious totems, some are things that his daughters gave him. Dont be surprised if you find a cute little pink bow necklace hanging in the middle of silver chains lmao.

Wears those oversized cargos, yk the baggy jeans (nct). He also wears skinny jeans sometimes and somehow pulls them off. They are the bad type of skinny jeans,l thankfully.

Also has trousers for formal occassions or when he is taking his daughter out for dinner in restaurants.

taglist 🏷️: send an ask to be added.

[rottenpumpkin13]

What is ASG +ZC personal style?

Zack: His entire aesthetic is aimed at looking cool, but keeping his clothes easy to move around in. He's a fan of leather jackets, sleeveless shirts, baggy pants, fitted tees, and combat boots. He wears his dog tag as an accessory likes fingerless gloves. He used to always wear his favorite pair of old sneakers until Angeal had him throw them out.

Genesis: What happened to your sneakers?

Zack: Angeal happened! He made me throw them out. They weren't even that bad!

Angeal, from the other room: THEY SMELLED LIKE SEWAGE. YOU TOOK YOUR SHOES OFF IN FRONT OF CLOUD AND HE FAINTED. SEPHIROTH APPROACHED TO HELP, COULDN'T HANDLE THE STENCH, AND WRAPPED HIS HAIR AROUND HIS NOSE.

Sephiroth: Minimalist, lots of black and dark shades with the occasional splash of silver here and there. He's very comfort over style, however he does have style elements to his wardrobe that he enjoys adding that oftentimes lean towards goth fashion; long coats, button-ups, black leather, fingerless gloves, and turtlenecks (ironically). Genesis got him a mesh top as a gag, which he has worn a few times "purely because it's comfortable" (or so he claims). That being said, he will choose sweatpants and one of Angeal's hoodies over all of that any day.

*Sephiroth is wearing all black*

Zack: Woah! Hehe. Who died?

Sephiroth, confused: Professor Gast, my mother, Glenn Lodbrok, Rosen, [he keeps going]

Zack: .......

Angeal: "Casual and comfortable" is what he calls it, "a cross between a hippie, a dad, and a wannabe musician" is what Genesis lovingly dubs it as. He keeps a flannel tied at his waist in case he or someone he's with gets cold, he likes to reuse old band tees by cutting them out and fashioning them into torn muscle shirts, and if you leave a white article of clothing out for too long and don't use it, Angeal will tie-dye it. He likes black jeans and jean jackets. He would wear more hoodies, but....

*Angeal walks into the room*

Angeal: Has anyone seen my hoodies?

Zack, wearing hoodie #1: Nope!

Genesis, wearing hoodie #2: Not that I recall.

Cloud, wearing hoodie #3: I wonder what happened to them.

Sephiroth, wearing hoodies #4, #5, and #6: Perhaps you misplaced them.

Angeal: Oh my god.

Cloud: He chooses his clothes based on maneuverability and how easy they are to fight in, but there are specific style choices he makes, such as preferring all black over color, wolf emblems, and loose clothing if he can help it. He doesn't like jackets, claiming that since he came from a cold mountain region, he doesn't get cold easily.

*Cloud isn't wearing a coat*

Zack: Are you sure you're not cold?

Cloud: Of course not. I grew up in Nibelheim. This kind of weather is summer over there.

Zack: Your arms are blue.

Cloud: It's a fashion choice.

Zack: You're shaking.

Cloud: No, I'm trembling in excitement.

Zack: What are you excited for?

Cloud: FOR THEM TO TURN THE DAMN A/C OFF.

Genesis: It depends on the month, weather, his horoscope, and his mood. If you send Genesis into his overflowing closet, he'll either walk out looking like a 19th century poet, an English professor, head to toe designer labels, or as if he's about to walk the runway. True to his fanclub name, he loves red leather and tries to incorporate it into each of his looks, all of which have red as the main color. He's praised by his fans for his style, meaning he has a certain appearance to maintain, which often makes him highly fashion-conscious. He disregards traditional gender norms when selecting his clothing, and he likes to experiment with makeup.

*After spending two hours selecting a look, Genesis walks out with a button-up that has a heart cutout on his chest*

Genesis: I'm ready.

Sephiroth: Your chest is exposed. Are you aware of that?

Genesis: Yes, I—

Sephiroth: Whore.

Genesis:

[catscidr]

hiiiii omg your childe fic was SO. CUTE. 😭😭🩷🩷🩷 sooooo could I request a scenario where alhaitham and reader are roommates???? romantic tension is real 🤭 imagine the lingering stares at his body (muscles) and getting caught ??? you cooking for him?? falling asleep on his shoulder on the couch?? helping him fix his tie for work???? he's so cute i am absolutely deranged i am so sorry ☺️☺️☺️ dating but not dating fr

i made this into a drabble-y format because i wanted to write things inspired by ur ideas without the story dragging on or being repetitive ueagdhfgs i GET the al haitham brainrot he’s so. aa. if i ever say no to romanticizing mundane life call the fire dept because that is Not me. also never apologize for being feral over a fictional man...... no one is immune to hot 2d men ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, domestic life shenanigans, reader ogles his muscles bc Yeah, lowkey crack a little bit includes: gn!reader, alhaitham, lowkey modern au sorta kindof maybe wc: 1,3k

Living with Alhaitham is easy. Living with your feelings for him, however, is not. At first you thought you would simply get flustered by him because he looked intimidating and because you didn’t know him all that well- you were just a little scared of him and the way your heart raced around him was because of your body panicking. Surely. But, the more time went on and you got to know him, slowly but surely, he came out of his shell and your schedules began to merge to allow yourselves to easily (metaphorically) dance around the other, a seamless waltz that you perfected to a tee. And, to no one's surprise, you weren't perpetually flustered because of how scary he could look.

-ˋˏ his and your chores

Cleaning up after yourself when you live with someone is imperative; when you live alone you can let yourself go a little, but when you share a living space with someone it’s only courteous to keep your shared space clean of any messes. 

You and Alhaitham had agreed that you’d share chores. Most of the time, when you were on picking-up-the-trash duty you wouldn’t need to do too much since he would have emptied out his own trashcan in the communal bin, and the same thing applied to him when it was his turn to maintain your shared bathroom clean since you’d do your best to keep it as clean as possible. However, one of the things you didn’t realize would affect you so much was when you had agreed to this “system” was when you’d see him do the dishes for the first time. 

Something as banal as your roommate standing over the kitchen sink, sleeveless shirt exposing his muscles as he scrubbed the plates you had both used to eat dinner. Was it the water that would occasionally splash on him, making his black tank look even the slightest bit sheer and making you stare shamelessly, drinking in the sight? Was it his small scowl whenever he touched soggy bits of food in the sink? (making you wish he was scowling at you in a strange desire to have his attention even if it was as a result of a bad thing)

...it was probably because, when he was doing the dishes, you realized he always had his headphones in, and it allowed you to stare at him all you wanted when he wasn’t facing you because he was so focused on his task. 

He caught you staring once, but you managed to convince him that it wasn't what it looked like (it was) 

-ˋˏ coming back from the gym 

Alhaitham went to the gym often, that much you could guess from his build. No one had biceps that thick from genes alone- you got to confirm your guess when you (literally) ran into him when he was coming back from the gym in the middle of the night. He promptly apologized (with an expressionless face) and explained that the gym was much quieter at 3am when you asked him why in the Seven he was at the gym so late. Though the flat was dark, you could still see the faint outline of his body from the small bits of moonlight shining through... somewhere. Peeling your eyes away from him you make your way to the fridge to do what you had come out of your room for- that good cold, mid-night glass of water. 

His eyes followed your sluggish figure, scoffing amusedly. With only a few steps, he catches up to you and grabs the glass from your hands, chugging it. Some water dribbles down the side of his mouth down his chin and you do nothing but gawk at him, emotions a mess. 

Should you be mad he so rudely took your glass of water? Or should you be grateful you could see how body properly, illuminated by the fridge light? One thing you knew for sure, you were going to need to grab a new glass of water since he stole yours. 

-ˋˏ making food

With your chores separated, there was one thing you had agreed to do on your own- that being anything regarding lunch and dinner. Breakfast was easy enough; you’d eat a normal portion of a normal breakfast while Al Haitham would eat almost twice as much as you because of his workout routine (he had explained how he had to bulk and offered to pay for the extra groceries) so you often ate the same thing since it was more convenient. 

Lunch was different. Sometimes you had places to be (whether it be work or class) and you wouldn’t be there to eat lunch, vice versa. The same thing applied to dinner. So, when you both were at the apartment at the same time for a meal that wasn’t breakfast, you’d make food for the other- but only occasionally. Basically, only when you felt like it. 

The first time he cooked you dinner he made a hearty soup that, by taking one glance at it, made your mouth water. You insisted that he make more to keep as leftovers so you could bring some to eat when you had time between classes, but he refused, saying that it was best fresh. 

So, he made you dinner more often. Every time he did you felt your heart clench at the domestic sight; Alhaitham in a corny, pink and frilly apron with his sleeves rolled up, carefully chopping up vegetables and tossing spices in the pot. 

One time he accidentally cut his finger and you rushed to his side to help. You held his hand under the running water of the sink and had to force your brain to act normally- it was hard not to let it wander when you kept focusing on the feeling of his hand in yours. 

A different time, he made you taste the broth by holding the spoon up to your mouth. The proximity nearly killed you. 

-ˋˏ convincing him to play games together 

Your roommate spent most of his time being productive, unlike you. Most of the time. 

You offered to play games together every so often when you had first moved in. His answer was a polite no (but still equally gut-wrenching and embarrassing to be on the receiving end of) and you gave up for a while. It couldn’t be that bad to have a beefy, intimidating roommate you barely knew, right? It was fine if you stayed strangers and just... respected the other person’s space. Probably. 

But eventually, your relationship changed from strangers to roommates to acquainted roommates. It was then that, when he saw you on your laptop in the living room, playing the role of Player 1 and Player 2 to solve puzzles, that he thought maybe he should just... play something with you. He told himself that he just felt bad for you, but part of him was actually interested in what you were playing. 

He sat next to you, startling you from the sudden shift on the sofa. 

“Is your offer still on the table?” he asked with an amused smirk, watching the character on your screen fall into poison. With a bashful smile you nod, placing the laptop closer to him so it could rest on your right thigh and his left thigh. 

Explaining the rules of the game was easy enough; you’re fireboy and he’s watergirl, each of you have to go through your own door to clear the level and to get to those doors you have to solve puzzles with the other one’s help. Needless to say, you both learned a lot from each other.  

You didn’t know your silver haired, perpetually calm roommate could raise his voice and he didn’t know you had such a wide, extensive vocabulary. 

[tmwcs]

also omg rei im gonna need a drabble on heethan and readen at the gym!!! or just working out aaahhh I can just imagine readen doing yoga at home and heethan going crazy OR OR heethan and readen at the gym together and have some little fun in the locker rooms loll OR readen watching heethan wprk out and ALSO going crazy

oh my gosh my heart 😣��

“Let’s Get Physical.”

Warnings: heethan gets a bit demeaning (in a sexy way)…rough smut implied, rough smut implied through dialogue, a bit perv behavior (Heethan), a little bit of tension, guys hitting/remarking on your ass at the gym, possessive heethan (obviously) ….think that’s it.

………………….

You and Heeseung decide to go to the gym where you both run into Jake and h/n.

“wanna do a group work out?” Jake asks, earning an eager nod from h/n and a glance for approval as you looked up to Heeseung. He responds by slightly nodding as he looks away and grabs onto your hand. “Yeah sure.” His voice deep and calm, like always.

Donning all black, you admired how good his arms looked. The sleeveless muscle tee fully exposes his arms and a slight bit of his shoulders, they paired nicely with the long workout pants that remained straight and loose. Of course, he wouldn't be Heeseung if he didn't have on his trusty black cap with the elongated strands of black hair tapering the back of his neck. You watched as his defined muscles flex each time he lifted and performed each exercise. He was literally, perfection. Snapping back yo your senses, you shook off the image of your man and ask h/n what exercise she wanted to start off with.

“Let's do squats. I need to work on my booty.”

Chuckling, you agreed. You both lay out the yoga mats and started off with some light stretching and little did you know, you were collecting a book of admiring looks yourself; looks that ranged from lust, yearning, to enhanced obsession and sexual rage.

Jake takes notice on the gawking stare his friend shoots your way, yet you were completely unaware. Such a shame. Considering if you had taken notice of the dagger eyes pinned to your form, you may have saved yourself and decreased the rage. Really, he would have calmed down with a small kiss or some affection, but the continuous motion of your movements with each exercise, remaining blind to his heavy breathing and the build up in his groin from staring at you, all made your oncoming fate a brutal one.

Your black leggings were thin and painted your curves, you had no idea just how alluring you had appeared. He went back and forth, shooting death stares at the other gym goers as they take notice and enjoyed the view of what belonged to him, to dispelling a look of desiring affection whenever his eyes returned back to his darling, Heeseung became conflicted with violent rage and passionate emotion. Your white, subtle cropped tank displayed just a hint of cleavage and mid drift; your hair tied up in a messy ponytail, draping down the center of your back, good grief...was he going to make it?

"Hey...Heeseung....you good?"

"Hm?....oh....yeah...."

Watching as you bend at the knees, he hears your subtle laughter as you and H/n face one another and playfully joke around as you both remained focus in perfecting the squatting form.

"Straight back, and bend at the knees." you softly tell h/n, who had struggled after the second set and took on a sloppy form once the fatigue set in.

"Oh my gosh...lets move on to something else now, my legs are burning." she releases out with heavy breaths, wiping the slight bit of sweat from her hairline. You nod once more and asked her which exercise she wanted to move onto.

"Lets do some more stretching. I feel stiff."

Getting back down on the yoga mats, you both conducted a myriad of stretching positions, some of which suggestively displayed your ability in being outrageously flexible.

"What the-" Heeseung pants out as he takes in the sight of your leg, fully extended with foot hovering above your head as you bend towards the opposite side. He never knew you could do that...fact.....he never knew just how 'bendable' you really could get.

"Otherside, h/n." you softly state as you reach up and conducted the same stretch towards the opposite end.

"Oh my fucking....."

His breath caught in an abrupt pause as he nearly drops the weight in hand. Fortunately, his trusting partner was there to catch hold of the barbell as he eases it out of Heeseung's grip and places it back to the rack. "Whoa! Be careful man, you almost dropped this on your foot." Jake turns around and pats his friend on the back shoulder. "I know man...I know...just try to focus on the exercise."

Heeseung breaks his visual contact for a second and looks over to Jake, before overhearing a couple of males from the side, both remarking your image.

.........

"Wow dude check that out...sexy."

"Nice ass..."

With his eyes losing softness, Heeseung shifts his head over shoulder before walking over to you. Remaining on the floor, you performed the next stretch in the planking position, watching as his shoes suddenly appear before your face. "Oh, hi babe. Did you want to stretch with us?" you look up and smile, taking notice of his intimidating stance of standing straight, hovering above your head with his arms crossed, glaring beneath heavy lids as he shakes his head softly while staring into your eyes.

"No baby....just making sure you're good. Keep doing your stretches." his voice was the opposite of his physical appeal as he gently calms and reassures you that he merely was standing by for our safety. Smirking, he gives you a soft chuckle with his eyes faintly softening, before stabbing back up to the two males, causing them to retract their stares and comments, migrating elsewhere.

Two minutes in, the timer goes off and you release your position to rest. Propping yourself on your hands and knees, you slowly come to a high kneeling position, when his hand suddenly is presented. You look up and see the tranquil expression on his face as he gives a slight nod, indicating for you to take hold, allowing him to help pull you up. You gently grab on, and feel the force of rush as he pulls your body effortlessly, nearly levitating your entire body as your weight is suddenly lifted. Gasping, your gasping moan triggered him to, once again, become riled with sexual rage as he takes in the tone of your voice that beautifully matches your visual appeal.

He pulls you up and in to his chest, cradling you within his lean, muscular arms. Embracing you, he lets your back, his palm smoothing the pony tail that trails downward to your delicate rear end. Smoothing the surface of his palm further, he gives a popping smack against your cheek upon feeling the roundness of your derrière.

“Ah! Heeseung!”

you yelped out in shock upon feeling the sting on your rear end, he had never done that before, in fact, he had always made an effort to explain that he never would treat you as cattle. Slapping a woman’s rear end was only something he could see happening to one that deserved to be treated like livestock, which would never be you. At least, that is what he’s always told you.

“why?…” you looked at him rather confused while rubbing out the sting as tactfully as you could. He didn’t respond, only looked down at you under heavy lids and a rather hungry yet emotionless expression in his face. It was as if head tired and starving at the same time.

Forcefully removing your hand away, he reaches over and, while detaining your wrist behind the lower part of your back, he emits another popping smack, and another….and another.

“what are you doing?!” You harshly whispered out, doing your best to avoid making a scene, yet desperately tried to break free from his pinned grasp. “Why are you doing this? I thought you said only girls who deserved to be hit there were ones that should be treated like a cow.”

with a sly smirk, he scoffs a close-mouthed chuckle. “That right? Did I say that?” his tone was flaring the obvious attempt at playing dubious to your statement. You rolled your eyes before shooting your stare right back, “Yes and you know it. You’ve said it so many times.”

“hmm…maybe I forgot because you wearing this outfit is kinda of affecting my long term memory.”

“you said it just last week when we watched that movie with that scene of the guy smacking that girls butt, remember?”

“You’re also affecting my short term memory.”

“Heeseung…..”

“and you wanna know what else, pretty baby?”

You gulped upon seeing the darkness of a shadow glare take over, with a sadistic and psychotic smile accompanying it.

“I need to get my workout in, so let’s go home and do just that….work it out.”

your breathing hitches. “But….I’m fine to do my workout here…Ethan.”

Upon speaking back, Ethan smacks the same spot that was already tender from the previous pops his Heeseung side admitted. Only this time, he grabs hold and doesn’t let go upon forcing the jiggle. “Talking back? That’s an extra lap you owe me.”

……………………..

“oh hey, y/n!”

turning around, you watch as h/n runs to catch up as you weee about to enter the classroom.

“what happened yesterday at the gym? When I got back from putting the mats away, Jake said you left with Ethan.”

You winced upon hearing Ethan’s name, the flashback of what occurred in his bedroom yesterday all came to mind…

……

“fuck! ass up pretty.”

“you’re so flexible, why didn’t tell me this sooner?”

“bend this way.”

“raise it up higher.”

“how far can your leg go? Let’s check.”

“Oh fuuuuuck….I can see my dick poking through at this angle. Fuck why does that turn me on so much?”

“Fucking breed with me, you beautiful and nasty little thing.”

“you just had to look sexy at the gym, didn’t you? Fucking nod your head! Don’t deny it.”

“had to get all those guys looking at what’s mine, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that.”

“who likes to milk daddy’s dick? Yyyyyyyyyy/nnnnnnn.”

“bend your leg further, I wanna watch it go in.”

“screaming are we? Good…keep it up, I’m loving it.”

“too good? Too much? No more? Heh….yeah right, get over here.”

“yeah, bet you can feel it deeper like this, don’t you?”

“Ready for round 6? That’s my favorite number, you know.”

…….

You shake off the thoughts and recovered quickly to maintain composure and to prevent unnecessary questions. “Uh yeah…sorry, I had a stomach ache and had to leave. I promise we’ll go again and do a thorough workout.”

taking your seat, you hissed the moment your rear touched the seat, stirring a confused and concerned look from h/n. “Are you sore from those squats? Me too, but it seems you’re more tender. You did a lot more than me, so I guess that’s why.”

“yeah….that must be why…” you begrudgingly responded, mentally recalling yesterdays events after Ethan took you away from the gym.

before the professor began his lecture, your phone dings, indicating a message. It was from Heeseung…

confused, you barely finished reading when the professor announced your name aloud. “Oh, y/n. I got your letter, you are excused for the day to attend your physical.”

your lips part in confusion and shock when your phone dings once more.

Looking out the window, you take note of Heeseung’s car parked across the lawn, windshield facing your seat dead on.

“Did….did he?”

*ding*

Taglist: aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[late-to-the-party-81]

hi, a drabble idea for you <3

You and Steve are training, when he see that your arms are scattered with bruises. When he ask about them you try to laugh it off, telling him its nothing. How will he react?

cant wait to see what you will make from this! <3

Bruises

AN: Thanks for the ask, Tonje! I hope you like this.

Beta’d by @lunarbuck, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me.

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: You’ve got a training session with Steve, but you’ve also got something to hide.

Relationship: Steve and Fem Agent Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1.1k

CW: Fluff, mild angst, attempted assault, canon typical violence, Steve being a good friend, mild pining.

“Aren’t you gonna get a bit warm like that?”  Steve looks at you in surprise when you turn up to your training session with a long-sleeved gym top on, as opposed to your usual sleeveless, muscle tee. You try quickly to think of something he’ll believe.

“I… umm… thought I ought to practise in some different clothes. Not always going to have time to put on my specific ‘bad-guy fighting clothes’ am I?” You shot him a smile, but Steve just let out a small grunt before turning away and stepping towards the mats.

“Come on then, Flash. Show me what you’ve got.”

You always enjoyed your training sessions with Steve. Not only was it good to practise fighting against someone bigger and stronger than you, but he was also genuinely fun to be around. You had a good rapport with him but were also grateful that he didn’t treat you like some kind of breakable doll. You had to be able to fight, and it wouldn’t do you, or the team, any good if he didn’t actually swing for you. 

Of course, he wasn’t trying to hurt you, but it had to be real enough, and you’d walked out of the training room a few times with bruised ribs or a black eye. These instances had resulted in not only profuse apologies but also the appearance of your favourite take-out, gift packs of luxurious bath supplies, and bottles of beer. Every time you told him it wasn’t necessary.

“Steve, it’s not like I’m gonna get all of this when the villains beat me up.”

“Of course you will, Flash - will just still be from me, not them.”

“You’re a sap, Rogers!”

This current training session was on track to be just like any other, your different outfit notwithstanding. Steve practised with you without the shield, a fact you were grateful for. However, he did use an array of fake firearms and knives, and you had to attempt to disarm him and avoid getting ‘shot’ or too badly ‘stabbed’ in the process.

For once, things were going your way. That was until Steve grabbed hold of your wrist and forearm over your shirt to use your momentum against you. You couldn’t help it - you hissed in pain and clutched your arm to your body, losing your balance and crashing onto the padded floor. Steve was by your side, kneeling over you in an instant.

“What’s wrong, Flash? I didn’t grab you that hard, did I?”

You blinked, imploring the tears in your eyes to disappear before you started bawling in front of your best friend.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Honest. You just don’t know your own strength.” You let out a fake little laugh, then tentatively placed your hand on the mat to push yourself up. However, pain lanced through you, and you jerked your arm back against your body.

“Liar.” His words weren’t harsh, just concerned, tinged with some playful mocking. “Come on, let me see.”

Gently, Steve eased your arm towards him and slid the stretchy, athletic material up your arm. He froze when he saw your wrist, blotchy and covered in bruises.

“What the hell, Flash? This isn’t from now? These are a day, a day and a half old?” The marks were deep purple, a couple starting to yellow at the edges. “What the hell happened?”

With your free hand, you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Well, umm. I was walking back to my room after a swim, and well, there was this other agent. Let’s just say his momma never raised him to be polite to a lady. And… ummm… he wanted some attention from me I didn’t want to give him, and he grabbed me - hence the bruises - and…”

You saw a look of rage descend over Steve’s face, his cheeks flushing in anger.

“Who was it? They’ll wish they’d never been born. They’ll be praying for Fury to fire them by the time I’m done…”

He started to get up, not really thinking through the fact that he couldn’t do anything without further information, but you stopped him by taking hold of his hand with your damaged one.

“Steve! Sit down. It’s fine. It’s dealt with. I dealt with it.”

He looked at you, sea blue eyes darting over you as if he could use x-ray vision to find any other bumps or bruises.

“How did you deal with it, Flash? Does Fury know? Or Maria if you don’t, you know, wanna talk to a guy…”

He was so sweet. Such a gentleman. His earnestness made you giggle.

“The Director knows. I told him all about it, after I broke the guy’s foot. Stomped on his instep and shattered some of his meta-tarsals. He let go of me real quick. Fury and security found him still lying on the corridor floor, fired him, and then sent him to the civilian ER. Hope he had a long wait time to be seen.”

The corners of your mouth twitched up as you remembered how the creep had screamed as his foot broke. As your Ma always said, “a lady should never start a fight, but she should know how to finish one.”

“But why didn’t you say anything to me?” Steve looked at you with puppy-dog eyes, saddened that you’d kept this from him.

“Cos I’m a big girl, Steve. I don’t need a man, especially you, fighting my battles for me.”

“I don’t mean like that, Flash. I just meant we could have skipped training today so you could recover.”

You glared at him.

“Will Doctor Doom wait? Or Zemo? Or any of the random aliens that like to attack at a moment’s notice?”

Steve folded his arms over his chest and put on his ‘Captain’ face. You’d lost this argument.

“Flash, go rest, please. I need you fully fit so you can take on Doom, Zemo, and aliens.”

“Fine!” You rolled your eyes and allowed him to help you to your feet. “But only because you look hilarious when you pout, Captain.”

He smiled and shook his head.

“Why do I put up with your sass?”

“Cos I’m awesome. That’s why! See you later, Steve.”  You waved with your good hand and sauntered back to your room. He always talked sense; you should have put off your training today, but you didn’t want to be seen as weak.

You curled up on your sofa, popped on a wrist brace, and settled down to binge-watch something on the TV.  Your arm throbbed. You hated when Steve was right. 

About an hour later, there was a knock at your door, but when you opened it, there was no one there. Just a pizza box, some bath stuff, and a 4 pack of beer. You scooped them up with your good arm and took them back inside with a smile and a shake of your head.

If only Steve were more than just your best friend…

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 03

03 - when the party’s over

pairing: noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 5.6k

warnings; alcohol, frat house parties, angst, frat!folio/frat!miserable bryan, inaccurate depictions of college experiences lmao, slight panic attack/ [nonsexual] overstimulation, frat hazing, drowning? but it’s kinda funny, confused jealous sad nicholas, awkward noah trying to rizz, folio has a silly nickname, crying, fighting, lots of internal dialogue, etc, 18+ MDNI

reminder; this is AU, nothing is meant to be accurate or realistic, including family members/names

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

NICHOLAS

In the bathroom across the hall, Noah messes with the pieces of his flippy hair that poke out and around his beanie.

In my room, I switch out the jewelry in my gauged ears and smooth out the short-sleeve button up shirt I chose.

The air between us had been somewhat distant and weird for the past 2 weeks since our… mutual activities. Though, I could tell that he was ready to go back to normal, which I do too.

It must just be harder for me to get past it, I guess.

We aren’t even out the door yet and I already regret agreeing to this stupid ass frat party.

He steps into the doorway and leans against the frame. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“I just gotta brush my hair and then we can go.” I say, still turned away from him.

“Cool…” He trails off, “I’m just gonna chill in the living room.” He thumbs over his shoulder.

“Okay. Sounds good.” I reply instantly, almost before he’s even done talking.

Once I’ve quickly brushed through my shoulder length hair, I grab my keys from the wooden hooks near the front door. “Alright I’m ready to–”

My eyes land on Noah, who’s wearing a black sleeveless muscle tee-like shirt and tight jeans. I’ve seen him in similar outfits a million times before but for some reason right now he looks so different.

“You good?” He chuckles and shoves his phone in his back pocket.

I shake my head from whatever fog is lingering there. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I must’ve just dissociated there for a sec.” Followed with a fake laugh.

When we pull up to the frat house, it’s packed with cars practically stacked on top of each other. Thankfully I find a spot not too far and claim it as my own.

As Noah and I walk up, I’m in absolute awe. I’ve only driven past this house; I’ve never been this close to it. It’s one of the various neighboring fraternities and sororities that border a huge lake. I can see the lake peeking out from behind the house and it makes me wonder what it’s like during the warmer months. A rush of cold fall wind reminds me that summer break is actually over. I stuff my hands into my jeans and continue towards the entrance.

The house itself is beautiful, it’s massive, white with columns and giant black Greek letters just below the roof. Colorful lights flash through the windows and follow the beat of thumping house music. People pour in and out of the front door and from around the backyard.

Everything about it screams college. It’s exactly what Noah wanted. It’s exactly what Folio wanted. But I hate it already and we haven’t even stepped foot in there.

We step up to the front door that’s being guarded by two muscular men who look like if they flicked us, we’d fall over. They very dramatically step together blocking the entrance. “Who invited you?” They ask sternly.

My heart rate immediately spikes from the interaction. I grab the hem of Noah’s shirt discreetly and tug at it to pull him away, but he surprises me.

“Folio.” He speaks up with the most obvious forced confidence and straightens out his back, pushing his chest out a bit.

Their serious faces break into hearty laughs. The one on the left leans back to see past the right one, “Trout! Your invites are here!”

Noah and I look at each other with stitched mouths not wanting to burst out laughing at Folio’s new nickname. Fishing is about 75% of what comes out of his mouth, it’s no surprise his new roommates have already heard all about it. The other 25% is dedicated to girls, weed, drums, and bikes, naturally. I am sure he’s stoked about the lake that’s quite literally in his backyard for him to fish from any time he wants.

Nick rips through the crowd and he looks… well just like a freshman in a fraternity. He’s wearing some ridiculous helmet with beer cans attached to the sides and a tube to drink from. His tank top is neon green plastered with frat symbols across his chest. The smile on his face is the biggest I’ve ever seen it, even bigger than when he somehow managed to get a 73% on his final where he blindly guessed on every question.

“Yesss! My bros!” He yells excitedly and pummels us in a giant hug. It’s only then that I realize he’s completely soaked in sticky beer.

“Ew, Folio.” I scrunch my face in disgust and peel myself away from him.

Noah just laughs, even though I know the beer on his clean clothes is driving him mad.

“Oh, don’t be a downer Ruffilo.” His words already strung together gives away how drunk he already is.

I pull my phone from my back pocket to check the time. “Nick it’s only 9, how much have you drank already?” I ask loudly over the music.

“It’s part of the like,” He lets out a slurred burp, “The initiation, or whatever. Freshmen have to drink a certain amount. And… I did.”  He drunkenly chuckles. Folio never drank much before this and if he did, he was always a lightweight. If he really did drink that much, it’s a miracle he’s even talking somewhat coherently right now.

“Well you really should’ve paced yourself–“ I begin but he cuts me off.

He rolls his eyes. “I should’ve known you’d be like this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” My brows furrow defensively.

“I would’ve had Noah leave you at home if I knew you’d be like this.”

I know he’s joking but it doesn’t make the tightness in my chest any less.

“C’mon Nicholas,” Noah grabs my shoulders and gives me a little shake. “Loosen up!”

I hate everything about this. It’s so confusing to see Noah this way, he was never like this before. Parties were his worst nightmare – until now apparently.

“Yeah, you guys need to catch up to me! Maybe you’ll have more fun!” Folio gestures for us to follow him to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, there’s a couple frat guys playing bartender, one I recognize to be Bryan, Folio’s mentor.

“Bryan!” Nick runs up to him like a child asking for a toy. “My friends are here and they wanna get just as drunk as meee.”

The dark under eye bags on Bryan are borderline comical. The look in his eyes reminds me of the look that middle aged underpaid cashiers give you when you ask if you can use a coupon. He says nothing and mixes up a concoction that looks like battery acid.

“Here.” He slides two radioactive drinks towards us over a marble countertop. “That should get you pretty fucked up quick.” Then goes off taking orders from other people.

I dip close to Folio’s side, “Why does it look like he works here?”

“The sophomores have to ‘work the party’.” Nick hiccups, “So they stationed him there.”

“Oh.” Noah and I mouth in unison.

“It’s part of the initiation.” He repeats proudly, as if being indoctrinated into some sort of academic cult is something to be so proud of.

I take the time to actually look over the party – it’s packed to the brim. There’s every single kind of college student you could think of, even kids that seem “nerdier” than me and Noah.

Rockstar by Post Malone began blasting through the speakers and a grin instantly spreads over my mouth. A couple summers ago Rockstar was me and Noah’s song, we would blare it on repeat in my shitty car almost every day. We played it so much we got sick of it, and this was the first time I’ve heard it since then. I turn excitedly to Noah but find that he’s gone. I look around where I’m standing, suddenly feeling exposed. Everyone surrounding me is preoccupied one way or another, including Folio which I’ve just realized disappeared too.

Directly in front of me stands the only other person I even marginally know at this party.

I lean across the counter and tap at Bryan’s tattooed forearm. He looks at me and it’s different than he does when I’m with Folio. Thankfully, it’s a lot kinder.

“What’s up?” He asks over the music, leaning closer to me with his ear first.

“Did you see where Noah went?” I nearly shout at him.

He nods over to the couch across the room where Noah is sat talking to a group of what looks like sorority girls – no worse, wannabe sorority girls.

“Trout introduced them.”

What a comically horrible nickname.

My lips fall to a frown, and it feels like my heart has dropped into my stomach. I watch as one bottle blonde traces her fingertips over a tattoo on his arm that I did –  the first tattoo I’ve ever done on somebody else and the first tattoo he ever got. For some reason, the sight of it makes me feel sick, like I could throw up right where I stand.

When my gaze finally reaches back to Bryan, he’s ready to tell me the answer to a question I haven’t asked.

“I don’t know where Folio went.”

“Great.” I nod and push away from the counter. “Just…great.”  

I figured that we’d come here for a bit for Nick then leave. I didn’t expect us to actually interact – which seems naïve to think about now. Noah practically begged me to come with him to this incredibly obnoxious party, of course he’d wanna stay and participate.

I deflate, grab my cup of toxic chemicals and reluctantly walk over to Noah. I nudge his arm and when he turns, he looks surprised to see me, like he forgot I was here.

“Oh, hey I was just about to find you.” He slurs and throws an arm over my shoulders. “This is Kassidy.” He gestures to the small blonde girl he’s been talking to then gestures to another very similar looking girl. “And this,” He gives me a discreet extra nudge. “is Brooke.”

The girls give me over enthusiastic smiles and I give them a half-wave because that’s all I have left to offer. “Hey.”

“Whatever Bryan made us, is fuckin’ workin’.” He knocks back the rest of his drink. “Do you mind asking him for another for me?”

My brows raise involuntarily at his demand like I’m some butler.

“Here take mine.” I grumble and drop my full solo cup into his empty one.

“You didn’t like it?” He doesn’t wait to already take a sip.

“No.”

“I’m sure they have beer or something else-“

“I’m good. I have to drive your ass home anyway.” I snap and walk past him through the path between the couch and the coffee table. I plop right next to Brooke because I know that’s what Noah was trying to orchestrate, and where else would I go.

Brooke is blonde with what I assume are hair extensions poorly placed over her scalp. Her lips are overly full, like she drew around her lips with a lead pencil. Her exposed cleavage from a lowcut crop top would normally entice me, if she wasn’t so…her.

She tried talking to me, but I must’ve been too boring since she just hung onto every word Noah said instead. When Kassidy and Noah started making out was when she finally left and went to find new prey.

I’m stuck on the opposite side of the couch watching my best friend get his face eaten off by someone who doesn’t even know how to brush her hair properly. It’s been about an hour and a half since we got here, and it’s the exact opposite of “fun”. Maybe it’s because I’m not drinking that I don’t understand the appeal.

Noah or not, I’d rather be home playing Pokémon or Call of Duty or literally anything other than this. Between the blaring music and the belligerent people, the thumping in my chest returns. I run my hands up and down my thighs slowly in an attempt to calm down but the faster my heart races the quicker my hands go. The air seems to be thinning around me and the crowded people feel closer than before. But then when I look over and see Noah kissing Kassidy, I’m suddenly furious.

I’m not sure why I’m furious, maybe it’s because he dragged me here, or because he ditched me after dragging me here, or because both of my supposed best friends ditched me after dragging me to a place I didn’t want to be to begin with.

It’s anger and anger alone that forces me from my seat and quickly past by Noah, knocking his shoulder back abruptly. It’s clear that he doesn’t even fucking care that I’m here or that I’m miserable.

I brush past various sweaty party goers, hitting each shoulder on my way.

“Nick!” I hear a drunken Noah calling after me. He’s gaining on me quickly as his thin body easily passes through the crowd.

“I’m going home Noah.” I yell over my shoulder as I stomp through the crowd.

“What! Why!”

“Because I want to go fucking home.” I turn a corner I think might be an exit, but it turns out to just be another hallway in this massive fucking house.

“C’mooon Nicholaaas.” Noah drags out the words in the most annoying whine. The alcohol is blatantly tinging each word.

“I’m not talking to you when you’re like this.” I shout back harshly through gritted teeth.

I push on a door that I thought was a bathroom just to get away from him, but I stumble into what looks like a movie room. The room is dark with just a flat screen on the wall playing some random Netflix movie and a large couch.

Of course, only in a frat house would they have a dedicated Netflix and Chill room.

Noah staggers in behind me and takes in the room just as I do. He pushes past me, slams the door shut and locks it.

He crosses his arms, “Now you can’t leave.”

I sigh, extremely irritated. “Oh, I’m leaving.” I go to move past him to get to the door, but he steps over and blocks me.

My heart is racing so fast it’s really all I can think about. Everything is too much for me; the earsplitting music, my fuming anger, Noah, how dark the room is, the heavy brick sitting on my chest, how warm the house is, the fucking stupid movie on the tv, all of it is making me lose my fucking mind. My skin’s crawling just being here, everything in me just wants to book it out the front door. I can barely fucking breathe.

All I want to do is leave.

I need to fucking leave.

“Why are you acting like this?” He asks and his tone has a hint of sadness that suddenly makes me feel guilty for wanting to leave.

“Because I’m not having a good fucking time Noah. I want to go home. One of these girly bitches you’re talking to can take you home. Or you can get an Uber, I really don’t care. But I. am. leaving.” I say sternly to his face, my hands fisted at my sides.

Confusion washes over him, as if he hadn’t realized I wasn’t enjoying myself until just now. The confusion only angers me more because if he had even paid a single ounce of attention, he would’ve known I wasn’t having a good time.

He always knows when I’m not having a good time. I don’t know how he knows but usually I can just look at him and he’d just know.

Until now, apparently.

“Oh.” The edges of his mouth wilt downwards. “I just figured you’d hit it off with whats-her-name and…”

“Well, I didn’t. And I want to get the fuck out of here.” I cross my arms over my chest, using my heel to scuff at my opposite shoe.

Noah’s eyes divert to any place other than me in the room and shift back and forth on the balls of his feet. His fingertips fidget with his knuckles as the silence between us grows louder than the music outside.

“I don’t want to go home yet.”

The words feel just like a dagger straight through my chest, piercing my lungs and deflating me completely. I literally just told him I was leaving without him but for some reason hearing him say it aloud is more painful.

“Okay…” I can’t help the way my eyes drop to the ground. “Well, you can stay here then, I guess.”

“I mean if that’s-” Noah stops mid-sentence to pause and tilt his ear to the party noises behind the door. “Do you hear that?”

“Yeah, it’s just party shit.” I wave him off quickly so I can get out sooner.

His brows scrunch up trying to focus harder, “No, No, listen.”

It takes a bit but then I hear it too. “It sounds like chanting? What are they chanting?”

Noah leans towards the door and carefully cracks the door just a smidge in order to hear the crowd better.

“Are they chanting…”

“Trout.” We say in unison and look at each other with widening eyes.

It’s not unlike Folio to get into some sort of competition but this just doesn’t sound right.

“What the fuck?” I crack the door open further and watch as the entirety of the party makes its way through the back door.

We make it out of the room and follow the crowd into the backyard. Noah notices it before I do and grabs my arm, his eyes round and glued on the crowd.

“Oh no.”

“What? I don’t see-” Then I do. “Oh no.”

An extremely drunk Folio being carried over to the lake, frigid in the autumn cold.

“Well, I mean, it’s just a lake, right? It’s probably just part of the initiation shit.” I speculate, annoyed that I have to babysit not one but two of my friends at this party.

“No, no, you don’t understand, we have to stop them.” Noah says urgently. He grabs my hand and starts running towards the dock.

“Stop! Stop!” He yells though his voice isn’t strong enough to reach.

“Wait why!” I call after him, his longer legs crossing the vast backyard faster than I can keep up. My feet crunch various red solo cups that just thrown across the grass. “It’s just water, he’ll be fine.”

“Stop!” He halts where the lake meets the land, and his eyes don’t leave Folio for one second.

 “No, no, no.” He mutters between us.

I’m so out of breath I can’t even ask any further questions and double over just to breathe holding onto my knees. When I finally catch my breath and look back up to Noah, he’s shedding his clothes. He yanks off each of his Vans, tossing them into the grass.

“Hey whoa! What are you doing? You can’t go in there!” I stand there useless with the vague feeling of needing to copy his actions. “What’s wrong Noah, can you fucking talk to me?”

“He doesn’t know how to swim Nicholas! We have to get him.” His skinny jeans are already halfway off of him.

“What! What the fuck do you mean he can’t swim?” I hastily slip off my own shoes and begin unbuttoning my shirt. “All he fucking talks about is fishing. What kind of fisherman doesn’t know how to swim!”

“I don’t know, he’s a fucking idiot!” He’s at the edge, waving his arms and whistling but the roar of the crowd drowns him out “But he’s definitely not gonna be able to swim with how drunk he is. Hurry up!”

“I’m fucking going as fast as I can!”

I regret everything about this night.

I’m never going to another party ever again.

As if in slow motion Folio gets thrown in the water with the dock full of people calling out his stupid fucking nickname. Knowing him, he probably had no idea what was going on until he was midair. He lands into the cold water and the party carelessly makes its way back to the house.

We try getting their attention but they’re all so fucked up that not a single one listens. It’s completely still where he was dropped before a struggle erupts with flailing arms and splashing.

“I’m going.” Noah states urgently, regardless of how quickly I can get these tight pants off my legs. He runs in then jumps into full strokes towards Nick.

Once I’m down to my underwear, I follow Noah. I brace myself for the water and it’s even worse than expected. I hiss at the cold but hurriedly begin swimming after Noah. The water is green and murky and all I feel are long, slimy tendrils of seaweed tangling around my legs. I struggle to make it through without getting lake water in my mouth or my eyes but it's pointless.

Noah finally reaches Folio and even from the far distance I’m at, it doesn’t look good. Nick is heavier and stockier than Noah, and Noah can barely lift a gallon of milk. I’m not quite sure what he was thinking, maybe he was relying on some crazy adrenaline strength.

Noah’s got him but he’s a heavy, thrashing, coughing weight in his arms.

“God fucking damnit.” I mutter and push myself to swim even faster. “Is he good?” I yell from yards away.

“No! I need your help, Nicholas!” Noah’s voice is slurred, strained and breathless. That’s when I realize that I’m supposed to be the sober backbone of this operation.

When I reach them, Noah is just barely keeping Folio’s head above water. I assess the surroundings and decide getting him up on the dock would be the quickest option.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.” I say, manhandling Folio from Noah. “You’re gonna get up on the dock and I’m gonna try to lift him up to you and then you can pull him up. Got it?”

“Got it.” He nods and swims over the ladder, climbs up and kneels at the edge. “Okay, ready.”

With every bit of strength in my body, I swim both of us over and lift Folio up towards Noah. He hooks his arms under his armpits and by some miracle gets him up on the dock.

I cling to the metal ladder letting myself take a breath for a brief second. When I finally get up to the platform, Folio is on his side violently coughing, desperately trying to get out any water.

Once his hacking calmed down, he wipes the side of his mouth with the back of his hand and squints at us. “What the fuck happened?”

“You were drowning dumbass.” I snap with an eye roll crossing my cold, wet arms over my freezing chest. “Your ‘frat bros’ threw you into the lake.”

I’m suddenly very aware that I’m nearly naked on this dock and while it’s just the two of them, I still feel extremely exposed. I’m not fond of even having my shirt off on a beach day, nonetheless a dip in a frigid lake with a whole house full of strangers just a couple of feet away.

Noah rests back on his folded legs and places his hands on his boney knees.

“Are you okay?” His voice is light, soft, and airy. “We were really worried about you.”

Noah is gentle with Folio even though we just dove into freezing water for him. He’s kind and concerned and it’s the Noah I’m used to. Seeing him this way again swirls a flutter in my chest. I can’t tell if that’s happened before or if it’s new. Maybe it’s something that’s always happened, and I just hadn’t noticed until now? It feels both comforting and extremely daunting.

Maybe it’s just my body trying to heat itself up.

Folio continues to hack several dry coughs but ultimately nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I think.”

I can tell he’s still wasted and frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t just throw up Bryan’s mystery concoction when he was coughing up water.

“Okay can we go put our clothes back on now? I’m fucking freezing.” My teeth chatter as a cold gust of wind washes over my body.

We quickly ran over to the shore to put our mostly dry clothes back on, then came back to Folio on the dock. Noah got him to his feet and had him hold onto our shoulders so we could steady him back inside.

The party hollers as we make our way through with a cold and shivering Nick. It strikes an anger right through my spine. It’s a rage I don’t think I’ve ever felt in my life but it’s spreading through me like a bad infection.

I’m in a room of people ridiculing my friend who just almost drowned.

The same people who almost caused it.

And he still wants to be here.

These are the people he wants to be with.

These are the people Noah wanted so badly to come here for.

Folio guides us up the rounded staircase to his room. Since the house is so big and the frat is so exclusive, each member gets their own room. So, luckily for him, nobody else has to see this.

I drop his arm abruptly once inside but he’s too drunk to even notice. He sloppily rustles through his drawers to find clothes to take for a lake-cleansing shower.

“Well, if you’re going to take 5 million years to find a shirt, I’m just gonna dip.” I say more aggressively than intended.

Or maybe it was intended.

They both look at me with confused, furrowed brows.

“Whoa,” Nick slurs, “What fucking crawled up your ass?”

“Fucking nothing, I just want to fucking leave. I’ve been trying to fucking leave for the past hour.”

Noah looks more confused than him, if I wasn’t so angry, I’d even call it concerned.

“You weren’t having fun?”

“Oh my god, I already fucking told you I wasn’t having fun. If you had just been a half-decent friend for two seconds tonight, you might’ve seen that I was not having fun at all.”

My patience had long left me.

“Oh so, I’m a bad friend now?” Noah raises a brow and takes an offended step back.

A frustrated groan escapes my lips, “I just don’t understand why you both want to be here with these people.” I point in the direction of the party. “Those are who did that to you Folio. And you still wanna party with them?”

Nick looks at me like I have two heads.

“Yes? I’m part of this fraternity Ruffilo. This is like… my purpose or whatever.” He says, stringing along his words like they have long pauses between.

My eyes couldn’t roll hard enough. That was quite possibly the most frat-boy thing I’ve ever heard. Maybe this is the right place for him.

“Your ‘purpose’? Are you fucking kidding me with that shit?”

“They weren’t all bad…” Noah trails off while he scratches his arm, and his eyes fall to the ground.

“Oh who? Those whores you were talking to?”

A quiet hush falls across the dimly lit room and Noah’s face looks distraught, his eyes fluttering back down to the carpeted floor.

“What is your fucking problem, Nick?” Folio breaks the silence. He’s still shivering, dripping water everywhere, and holding a pile of sweats to change into after his shower.

“If you didn’t wanna fucking be here, you shouldn’t have come.” He pushes past both of us and exits the room.

Noah’s brown eyes land back on me once we’re alone. There’s a sadness to them that I can’t decipher.  

“Well, this is what you wanted isn’t it?” I question facetiously and spread my arms out grandiosely. “This big college experience?”

He blinks at me blankly. “Why are you being like this Nicholas?” He asks softly and it twists some invisible knife in my gut.

“Being like what? You dragged me here!” I drop my arms harshly back to my sides.

“Yeah, I thought you’d have fun.” He scratches his arm anxiously.

“What’s fun about sitting around watching you hook up with dumb sorority bitches?”

The words surprise me the minute they leave my mouth. I don’t even know exactly what they’re supposed to mean and I sure as hell don’t want to unpack it right now.

His brows curve up where they start and knit together. He notices the odd verbiage too.

Fuck.

“Is this because we-“ He begins but my accelerating heart rate can’t bear to even entertain what was about to come out of his mouth. Nor can I bear to hear it.

I can’t hear him say what we did together that morning those weeks ago. I’ve been trying to convince myself that it was just a dream - even though my mind hasn’t been able to let me forget it, nor has it stopped me from wishing it would happen again.

But I can’t hear him say it. That would make it real. And I so desperately want it to not be real.

“You know what?” I suck my teeth. “I’m done. I’m fucking over this. I’m actually leaving now.” I march over to the open doorframe and turn back to him once more.

His hand moves up and down his arm repeatedly as if he’s trying to self-soothe.

“Okay.” He replies quietly and finally looks up at me from where his eyes were locked on the floor. “I guess um. I guess I’m gonna stay and make sure Folio is all right.” He thumbs over his shoulder towards the bathroom. “I doubt anyone’s sober to drive so, I’ll just stay here tonight.”

It feels as though my ribs caved in on my chest; sharp boney splinters piercing the organs they house.

I guess a part of me wanted him to beg me to stay.

But he didn’t.

“Okay.” I nod and head out of the horrendous frat house.

I fight the lump in my throat and the burning in my eyes all the way down the grandiose stairs, through the bustling crowd, down the front steps, over the green lawn, through all the parked cars, until the door slams behind me in my own car. All at once it hits me and the tears unleash. I cross my arms over my steering wheel pressing my crying eyes against them, heaving my sobs against them.

“Fuck!” I scream within the small confines of my car.

I’m crying and frustrated and angry all at the same time. I don’t even really know what I’m upset about. All I know is that my chest aches in a way it never has before, which frustrates me even more. The feeling reminds me of when you’ve been doing math for an hour but no matter how many times you try, you just don’t fucking understand it.

I just didn’t want to party, why am I fucking crying?

Why do I fucking care if my friends are staying and I’m going home?

I try to calm down before leaving but the tears keep pouring out of me. Everything’s blurry on the drive home and I’m grateful I didn’t take a sip of alcohol.

When I arrive home, the house is quiet. Every light is flipped off and there’s not even water droplet of noise. My mom is at her night shift at the hospital and my sister, Stella, is at a sleepover. Whenever I feel like this, I always go sit on one of their beds and talk to them. They always make me feel better even when there’s not much to say. Even though Stella is younger than me, she somehow always knows what to say. In a lot of ways, she’s smarter than I ever will be.

I don’t bother turning on a light and shuffle off my shoes at the door. I circle to the kitchen. When I open the fridge for a water, the light burns my already raw eyes. I take the cold bottle and press it on my under-eye bags then practically slam the fridge door closed. The cold plastic helps soothe some of the swelling.

I scuffle across the hall to my room and the minute the door clicks in place behind me, I let out a deep sigh. I feel water threatening to prickle into my eyes again, but my head is pounding and I’m so fucking sick of crying. I shed all my clothes since they faintly smell like lake and alcohol, and even though I should shower to wash off nasty lake residue, I just can’t walk out the door again. My chest aches too much for me to leave this room.

So, I slip on new boxers and a random Star Wars shirt and get into bed. I slip in from the right side and it immediately feels wrong.

And it sinks in.

My bed is not my own anymore.

It is half mine.

Half Noah’s.

I scooch back onto the left and try to sleep but I toss and turn for an hour and a half. My mind is racing, and it is only filled with Noah. Stuff that shouldn’t even matter.

Is he okay?

Is he still drinking?

Where is he sleeping?

Is he with her?

Does he wish I stayed?

Does he regret not leaving with me?

Does he want to come home?

Is he going to try to get a ride home? Would it be safe?

Did I overreact?

I should’ve stayed to help Folio sober up.

I should’ve just gotten drunk.

Maybe I could’ve had fun if I drank.

I wouldn’t be so upset if I had just drank, right?

I’m only upset because I wasn’t having a good time, right?

Maybe my two best friends wouldn’t fucking hate me right now if I just pretended to have fun.

Is this just what it is now?

Am I going to get dragged to a party every weekend and have to pretend to enjoy it?

Will I lose them if I don’t?

I flip on my side, facing the door and my back to the window. Between me and the door there’s the vast emptiness of Noah’s spot.

The bed feels so… empty without him in it.

I tug the comforter close around me as I’m suddenly aware of the low temperature in the room.

I hadn’t realized just how accustomed I’ve gotten to him being here in the short amount of time been moved in.

It’s nice having someone take up space next to me in bed.

It’s nice having warmth where there used to be none.

It’s nice laughing until my stomach hurts before bed every night.

It’s nice having someone to shut off the lamp when I’m already half asleep.

It’s nice not being alone.

I like not being alone.

I like not being alone with him.

And I don’t know what to do with that feeling.

Next Chapter -> 04 - Snapped Neck

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @cryingabtab @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

a/n; Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks, they really validate and fuel me lol. Even though I'm not the best at replying 😅 but i am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

I hope you guys like this one, please lmk if you do💘

[loonaticskr]

Loonatics KR Bios - Koale Hypaethral

Art created by @segamarkii and character written by @mysticinternetdinosaur

Disclaimer: This character will soon be updated for the fic. I'd like you to please do not use or draw this OC without permission first to @mysticinternetdinosaur

Name: Koale Hypaethral “A.K.A. Discorded/Dracon” (Armadillo Lizard)

DoB: February 11, 2751. Aquarius (Age: 22)

Nationality: American

Relatives: Aprina (Mother), Flint (Absent Father), Elio (Pangolin/Uncle)

Personality: Calm, mature, and clear-headed. Sort of sloppy and careless. Can be in moods of depression.

Appearance: He has a slim brown-scaled body with some muscle showing and a tattoo on the right side of his chest. Like his species, his body is covered with spikes and he has a spikey long tail.

Outfits: 

(Casual Outfit): He wears bohemian-styled clothes which mainly consist of a beanie, a shawl, sunglasses, a white long-sleeve pocket tee, and gray jeans with ripped sides, all of which have holes because of his spikes. He sometimes wears sandals.

(Hero Outfit): His clothes have a medieval look to them. They consist of a gray high-neck sleeveless top with purple patterns, black torn jeans, and Roman sandals under a blue cloak. The color of his scales changes into a mix of light blue & silver. 

Powers/Skills:

[Greatest Hit]: Koale can create music powerful enough to use for many attacks.

[Encore]: Koale can gain different abilities by listening to or playing different kinds of music.

Types of music and their effects:

Any intense or loud music (e.g. Rock, Metal, Pop, Punk) would be considered an attack.

Any music that sounds calming or quiet (e.g. Acoustic, Country, Blues) would be considered supportive.

Weapons: He carries his electric harp-like guitar named Crescendo which can sound like both an acoustic and electric guitar. He uses a chipped piece of the meteor to play Crescendo like a guitar pick. 

Other info:

He was born with Plum-ombre eyes.

His voice became scratchy from his habit of vaping. 

He can impressively pull off rocker’s growls & screams.

He’s attracted to anyone (Pansexual) & crushes very easily.

Similar to his species, Koale can bite on their tail.

He joins Top Voices Got Talent, a TV Music Competition so that he can get his life back together.

Koale always had an unusual knack for composing music. Whenever he performed music, the most astonishing sounds would overflow his listener's heads. It was marvelous. So much so that he got contacted by music producers promising him money and a wealthy lifestyle. The first thing he did after graduating was to work under their terms. The musician named Discorded was born, as he created music under the company’s name.

What Koale didn’t know was that he was making less money than they intended for him. The company was secretly taking a percentage off of his salary. Koale wasn’t keeping track of his money for his equipment, outfits, and the backstage passes he got… to add more salt to the wound.

Eventually, the producers cut all deals from him and made him broke. Almost all of his deals from the studio were given to someone else because they had “more talent and money.” When news about his partnership spread, everyone that he knew left him. So you could say that he lost everything. His house, money, friends, family, and career were all gone.

As soon as Discorded vanished from the world, so did he. Koale had decided to drive from his home state to Oregon to cover his shame. He could make it through by busking with a guitar he still had. He still played music, but it just wasn’t the same.

[hdtaejin]

⌇⌇ 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⤷ self para: 2nd evaluation ⤷ mentioned: npc(s) / wc: 584

there's a difference between ambition and greed. ambition is for people who use their heads. there's organization and purpose in ambition, twelve step plans and vision boards and manifestations stitched into the fabric of reality—a whole tapestry of calculations and tightened threads. greed is an act of unraveling. less direction. more appetite. greed is for people like taejin, led by their noses and looking for something to sink their teeth into.

he goes all out on this evaluation.

maybe it's because the creative parameters are set so freely, all stages of production being up to the trainees, that taejin finds himself wanting to do everything. show everything. song. dance. rap. performance. from the day they were given this assignment, taejin had sprinted out the gates hungry to prove something and looking nowhere but straight ahead.

when he performs "ghost", there's a feral bite to it that's a different kind from the original. more raw, more rough around the edges. energy that crackles, barely contained in the first half of the song that rips through the surface as soon as the track stutters into the industrial chaos of its last chorus. taejin throws off his black leather jacket to reveal a ripped, sleeveless white tee underneath. he lowers his eyes, wipes his mouth, and mimes a left hook in time with the dings of the bell on the track, transitioning into a choreo that combines krumping with the techniques he learned while training in the ring. there's adrenaline burning through him the way it does when he's sparring, and for those few moments he feels hyper-aware of every muscle in his body. they're responsive in ways they hadn't been during rehearsals, and he tears through the outro hitting every beat dead on its head.

it takes a while for him to come down from that high. he barely catches the tail-end of ahn haru's commentary—something about showcasing his versatility by choosing a darker concept—but manages at the last second to bow jerkily in response. the rush of blood in his head still sounds like a roar.

jang heiran is next, and her focus is on his vocals. she praises his decision to challenge himself this round, saying that while unpolished, he showed a range of styles that proved he had the potential necessary to adapt himself to different genres down the line. she mentions her surprise at his stability, which held on despite the quick pace of the choreo, and she ends with a comment that said she could tell how much he had practiced for this evaluation. she smiles briefly in approval, a small ripple on the calm surface of her face.

choi yohan just looks at him like he discovered something interesting.

"full of surprises as always, yang taejin," he says after a pause. "haru already said what i wanted to say in terms of concept execution and stage presence, but it bears repeating." he glances back at the trainees in the audience, then at the judges sitting next to him. "i don't think a single person in this room was able to take their eyes off you the whole time you were on stage. that's impact."

he levels a stare at taejin.

"i don't know what kind of headspace you were in to perform like that, but i don't want you to forget it. we're in the endgame. this is what i mean when i ask you to give me your 200%, and now that i've seen this side of you, i'll expect nothing less."

[shijiujun]

Sneak Peeks | Chris Wu 吴承洋 in his new “Forever Young” photobook 

[sebsxphia]

Just want Jake to fuck me in the black sleeveless tee he did the push ups in

NO FUCK WAIT PLEASE DEAR ANON

PLEASE

like picturing him coming back after the push ups and a day where he got his ass royally handed to him. he’s so pissed off he didn’t even shower or change before coming home to you. he does nothing but mutter, “day from hell, sweets. i need you, please” against your neck as he pins your front to the kitchen counter and smoothes his hand over the swell of your ass.

you can taste the salty sweat on his upper lip mixed in with his familiar sweet taste. one arm wrapped around your stomach to hold you in place and his other stretched out to hold onto your shoulder, bowing your back. you curl your head around and his large arms are bulging out of his sleeveless shirt, the muscles enhanced from the number of push ups he had to do.

dksadmok fuck me

thank you so much for this insane thot my dear anon!! this really got me thinkin’!! 💌

[whats-her-quirk]

contact high

yoga instructor!kakashi hatake x fem!reader 18+ (mdni) warnings: adult instructor/student relationship, authority kink, ‘sensei’ as a pet name, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, praise, size kink, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it) wc: 3k

Wellness—that’s what you were looking for when you signed up for the yoga class: 8 weeks of stretching your body and your mind in order to feel more at peace with yourself and the world. What you weren’t expecting was an instructor whose soft tone of voice and rock hard body makes it incredibly difficult to focus on your practice every Wednesday after work.

Kakashi doesn’t look like a yoga teacher; he looks like an underwear model, even in his tight sleeveless top and spandex leggings. Stuck with a spot at the front of the mirror-lined room because you were one of the last to arrive, you’re so close to where he sits cross-legged on his yoga mat. As he speaks from behind a black face mask, you stare at the definition in his arms, carving out the lines with your eyes.

You learn that he teaches both yoga and judo, which he used to compete in at a national level. No wonder he’s so cut and graceful as he strolls around the room, checking his students’ form in the warrior pose he’d started you out with. When Kakashi reaches your mat, he lightly taps the underside of the wrist stretched out in front of you.

“Just a touch higher, but otherwise great.” Even if you couldn’t see the adorable crinkle in his eyes, you can hear the soft smile in his voice. You nod in thanks, focusing on your breathing and keeping it steady.

He pauses, and you can feel his careful gaze inspecting you. “Have you taken yoga before? This is a beginner’s class.”

It’s hard to speak while you hold your lunge, but you don’t want to ruin the posture he’s apparently so impressed by. “Just two or three random classes in college,” you confess.

Kakashi hums thoughtfully in response before moving on to the next student. In the mirror, you can see him roll his shoulders, the landscape of his back muscles shifting and resettling, as he walks away.

By the end of class, you’re considering signing up for judo just for more chances to watch him and the calculated way his body moves. Then you imagine getting your feet swept out from underneath you, your back hitting the practice mat, and the ache in your body it would bring the next day. Best to stick with yoga for now.

In spite of yourself, you choose a spot at the front of the class each week. Kakashi always greets you with that same shrouded smile, tilting his head to one side so his silver hair swooshes over the side of his headband. In the chatter before class begins, he sometimes asks questions: where are you from? What do you do for work? Do you have any pets? He’s slow to talk about himself, only reciprocating with his own answers when you specifically ask for them, but you can’t help but feel flattered by his gentle interest in you—not just your crow poses.

By week four, you hope it isn’t obvious that you’re dressing for class with the knowledge that Kakashi is going to touch you. Instead of tees and athletic shorts, you pack leggings and sports bras in your duffel, even going so far as to purchase a few cute matching sets that make you feel damn good about yourself to boot. You’re not the only one in the room dressed this way, but it’s worth it for the brush of Kakashi’s skin as he touches the small of your back or the curve of your shoulder to adjust your pose.

At the fifth class, he takes you by the hips and you almost fall over, arms turning to jelly underneath you in downward dog.

“Put a little more bend in your knees,” he suggests calmly, as if he isn’t pulling your ass up against him. “It’s more important to have your hips back rather than your legs straight. That will come with practice.” You make the adjustment without hesitation, feeling your hips and upper thighs relax against him, easing the tension in your calves. You miss him when he lets go, but you hold the pose, distributing your strength evenly throughout your body.

Your face burns when Kakashi bends upside-down alongside you, greeting you face to face. “Feel better?”

“Yeah, much.” He grins and, like always, moves on to the next student. If didn’t know better, you might think he was flirting with you.

The first time you see his mouth uncovered, he’s pressing a strawberry to his lips. You’re a little early to class number seven, presumably catching him with his late lunch or early dinner. He takes a bite, slowly, catching the juice in the corner of his pretty mouth before lightly slurping it down. Your whole body flutters while he holds out the container to you.

“Would you like one?”

You pluck a berry from the bowl without thinking. “Thanks.”

His eyebrows raise a little, probably at the way you’re staring as you pop the fruit into your mouth, before he replaces his mask in a rush. “Sorry, I try to keep the mask on around students. Or, around anyone, really. Helps prevent the spread of germs.”

“Oh, it’s—“ You start, but it seems wrong to say that germs are fine when he seems so concerned about them. “You don’t have to do that for me.”

He pauses a moment before snapping his plastic container shut. “For you,” he mumbles, so quiet you almost miss it.

For the duration of class, Kakashi hovers. He gives directions and demonstrates from his yoga mat but always gravitates back to you. He palms the back of your thigh while you’re anchored in warrior pose, spreads his arms with his chest to your back in star pose. Shamelessly, you lean back into him, matching his forwardness with your own. It's like he can’t keep his hands off you, and you intend to bring it up after class when he catches your eye in the mirror as you’re rolling up your mat.

“Would you mind staying back for a few minutes?” he asks coolly.

Your stomach tightens in knots as you wait for the other students to leave. Some linger, throwing curious glances as you stand silently beside your instructor, but eventually, the room clears out. Anxiety bubbles between your ribs; what if you misinterpreted something? What if he’s kicking you out of class? The tension is heavy until he breaks it.

In a level voice, he begins, “You should know you’re one of the best students I’ve ever had.”

You already feel the catch coming. When he hesitates, you nudge, “But…?”

Kakashi clears his throat. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I feel that it’s wrong not to tell you that I’m attracted to you.”

Your stomach drops, tingling heat flooding to your cheeks and the tips of your ears. He’s so earnest, it makes you flounder like a schoolgirl. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He chuckles, one hand reaching out to touch your hips. “It’s just that I don’t know if I can make it through another class without my touches becoming… inappropriate.”

The breath you suck in is audible in the empty studio, echoing off the mirrored walls and fake wood linoleum. You’d been afraid to hope, to want him this way, but now that you’re sure he feels the same, the urge is too strong to hold back. You twirl into him, reaching up and hooking your fingers under the straps of his face mask and pulling it down. “Then let’s be inappropriate, sensei.”

Kakashi practically purrs as he slots his lips against yours. He’s so tall, he has to stoop forward to capture your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck, anchoring him down while you explore his tongue with your own.

His hands smooth up and down your sides, rolling over your hips before he grabs two huge handfuls of your ass and squeezes. You lift higher on your toes, tensing your leg muscles and forcing his fingers to dig in, to pull you closer, to press into your flesh so hard you might bruise. Kakashi moans into your mouth, and fuck, you want him, but here?

Bringing his hands back to your face, Kakashi cups your cheeks when he breaks away. His mismatched eyes search yours, a pang of lust strikes your chest. “I-“

“Come home with me.” He looks ready to beg, but he doesn’t have to.

“Yes, please.” Kakashi pulls you close for another deep, lingering kiss, burning from your mouth to the pit of your stomach, before taking your hand and leading you to his car.

It’s not a long drive to his apartment complex, your hands fumbling in your lap while he grips the wheel and blows through a few yellow lights. Anticipation rests heavy in the air, spoken clearly in the silence between you. You make it as far as right inside the door before you can’t wait anymore, pushing him up against the wall even though he’s far broader, far stronger than you. Your mouth finds his neck, leaving a trail of kisses up to his earlobe before he lets out a breathy chuckle and picks you up by your waist.

“So eager,” he teases against your ear before leaving a sloppy kiss of his own.

Your thighs squeeze his trim waist, clinging to his solid body as he carries you down the hall and through his bedroom door. “I kinda have a crush on you.”

Kakashi hums in his throat, a low, possessive sound. “Eager and cute,” he clarifies.

You're placed gently at the end of the bed, your heart leaping as Kakashi kneels in front of you. It must be a dream—it has to be. Kakashi is the best of everything: too kind, too handsome, too absolutely massive in size and presence. When he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings, you lift your hips off his dark bedspread and let him undress you. “How did I get so lucky?”

Though he wasn’t meant to hear your mumbles, Kakashi answers over your croons as he pets at your wet folds. “You’re a great listener. Your appetite to improve is insatiable. I want to get inside your mind, to pick it apart.” You moan and spread your knees when he slides his fingers inside. Kakashi lowers his face, breathing over your trembling pussy. “And you’re beautiful.”

His tongue is fire against your cunt, flames licking up your lower lips as he devours you. You shake at his touch, leaning back on the heels of your hands for support and fisting the sheets beneath. The tip of his tongue teases at your hole and you all but fall apart, pulse pounding with heat and desire. Your body takes over, moving and clenching as your mind floats away, carried by his praises between each lap of your slick.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans into a slurp. “Fuck, you taste so good.” His tongue flat, he licks a long stripe up your center. You force your thighs together around his head just to keep yourself from coming.

“Kakashi,” you practically sing, your voice cracking over the long, drawn out vowel sounds and clipped consonants. You writhe against him, desperate for friction. He’s all you can feel, all you can see and smell and taste as you wait for your release to build.

He squeezes the fat of your thighs before pushing them apart again, pinning one to the bed before rubbing your clit with the other. His strokes are furious, almost vibrating, his hands are moving so fast. “Make a mess of me, baby. Please,” he begs before burying his tongue in your pussy.

You scream as the pressure shifts inside you, the slow churn of pleasure turning to a sudden drop, like the first hill of a roller coaster. Your core clenches sharply before you release with a gush, warm squirt wetting Kakashi’s face as he groans against your fluttering cunt. Falling backward onto the bed, you try to catch your breath in disbelief of the release Kakashi was able to coax out of you.

He pulls back then, your legs slipping off his broad shoulders to dangle off the edge of the bed. You tremble at the sight of the bulge in his compression leggings, panting as he sheds his clothes and frees his throbbing erection. A little whimper escapes you; he’s so impossibly beautiful, sculpted by years of hard work even though you’re convinced his beauty couldn’t be anything but effortless.

“Condom,” you hear yourself say.

Kakashi, stroking himself harder, chuckles. “You ready for me already? You don’t need a while to rest first?”

You shake your head, hair knotting up against his bedspread. “Want you now.”

“Fuck. That’s my girl.” Your cunt pulses at his pretty words, anticipating his next move. After retrieving a condom from a drawer and slipping it on, Kakashi positions himself between your legs at the foot of his bed. He steals your breath when he pulls you farther off the edge.

“This ok?” he asks. You huff impatiently, head spinning..

“Yes, god, Kakashi, please.” Your legs wrap high around his waist, your ass lifting off the bed to press against his hips.

He adjusts your legs and lines himself up, and you throw your head back in a moan as he taps his head against your cunt with one hand. His breath falters a little, betraying how turned on he is when your thighs squeeze around him to hold you in place. “That’s a nice bridge pose,” he teases, rubbing his head at your clit, making you twitch.

“Are you really thinking about yoga right now?” It catches you off guard, this silly praise, the tension in your quads loosening by a little.

Then he smiles that gorgeous smile, the crinkles bursting at the corners of his eyes like fireworks. “No,” he says, swirling his cock over your hole. “I just wanted you to relax a little for me.”

Kakashi pops the head of his cock past your first ring of muscle and slides inside you, your slick drooling out around him as you gasp and clench around his length. “Good girl,” he huffs with a grin.

He’s big, deliciously thick as he spreads you apart on his cock, shallow thrusts pushing in to wet his length before pulling out only to thrust in a little farther the next time. Your head lolls to the side as you give yourself over, letting him guide your hips with his hands as his thrusts grow deeper. He shudders when you whine for him, only encouraging you to let out every little sound that pushes its way up your throat. When he finally pushes all the way inside you and starts to slowly grind you down, you cry out his name almost pathetically.

“Kakashi, fuck, feels so good.” You moan and arch your back as skin slaps against skin, his hard, deliberate thrusts shifting you against the bed. His balls tap against your ass—a sensation stimulating in its own way, especially with your hips up in the air. Everything inside you feels tight, clamped down as if he could slide out at any moment. When he groans and presses fingertips to your clit, you clench with a scream.

It’s torture; it’s bliss. You want to get away from his fingers and press into them at the same time. But there’s nowhere you can go, not with Kakashi’s hand locked just above your knee, holding you to his side. Maybe it’s blood rushing to your head, but everything looks, feels fuzzy as he swipes over the little bud. You pulse around his cock, tight, gummy walls fluttering like mad as your head fills with cotton. “Fuck, fuck, I—” And then you scream.

“Good girl, such a good girl, fuck.” Kakashi’s motions stutter as you cream around him, sucking him in deeper when the friction doesn’t stop. Your moans are punctuated by gasps, your body out of your control—all of it given over to him as he barrels toward his peak.

Another almost painful groan tears from his throat. “God, call me sensei again. Who are you so good for?”

“You, sensei. Fuck, you.” Your vision flashes white as Kakashi grabs your ass with both hands and shudders, thrusting in hard as he cums with a strangled gasp. He looks so good doing it, jaw slack and eyebrows pinched as his eyes roll.

Your back buzzes with pain as he lowers your legs, in desperate need of some stretching after twisting and arching for so long, but for now, you lie still, panting as you come down. Kakashi drops both hands to the mattress, holding himself above you until his breath comes back to him. His head dangles, looking down at where he still sits inside you. You whine a little when he pulls out, the feeling so empty it almost makes you want to beg for more until you see how spent he is.

When Kakashi looks up, he’s grinning. “Fuck, that was good.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

Then he drops to his elbows to kiss you, and your lips meld with his like you’ve been kissing him for years, maybe even your entire life. You giggle when he asks, eyes closed and mouth brushing against yours, “Are you free before next Wednesday? I don’t think I can wait that long to touch you again.”

You nip back at his lips. “You pick a night and I’ll show you how flexible I really am.”

[heterotragedies]

peppermint, eucalyptus & oudwood | 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.5k

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yeosang + female reader

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: mean yeosang (in a sexy way), pillow humping, masturbation, vaginal fingering, clit play, edging, slight overstimulation, no penetrative sex

𝐞𝐱𝐭: if you've read t:atbilb prologue on my main blog, you might notice that this was inspired by a certain scene.

.˚ ₍🗒₎ ꒰ © 𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 ꒱

Yeosang had just left, you heard the door click shut a couple seconds ago. The atmosphere was now quiet and calm as opposed to the rather loud and rambunctious one not even 5 minutes before. Your blanket was scrunched up on the floor from Yeosang laying on it, and several pillows lined the corners of the blue duvet.

Sighing, you walked over and picked up the mess sprawled on your bedroom floor. Haphazardly tossing them onto the bed with your body falling on top of them right after.

What started out as a supposed study day for you, ended up with you and Yeosang giggling on the floor for several hours straight. It was around noon when your best friend suddenly showed up in front of your apartment door, banging his fist on the wood like it was nobody’s business.

Yeosang inviting himself over for seven hours was not a new occurrence in your life. Hell, he could just announce he’d be moving into your apartment the moment you open the door and you wouldn’t argue. Partially because he wouldn’t let you, but mostly because you really wouldn’t mind.

Having him as your roommate would be great. You’d have someone to split the bills with, and the chores too! There wouldn’t be a dull moment with you and him under the same roof.

And you’re definitely not opposed to the idea of seeing him everyday in his loungewear, which you know consists of a sleeveless shirt and pajama pants. Just today he was wearing his favourite red and black plaid pajama pants and a black shirt he pulled out of Yunho’s closet with the sleeves snipped off (Yunho hasn’t noticed the absence of the article from his drawer yet). His well toned arms flexed with every little move he made. Even with actions as miniscule as pushing his blonde hair out of his face.

Propping yourself up on your elbows you study the circular pillow your face has landed on. Bringing your nose back down onto it, you give it a quick sniff, and you were right! The pillow smelled a lot like your best friend’s eucalyptus shampoo. Thinking back to earlier in the day, you vaguely remember this same pillow being the one he rested his head on and rubbed his hair all over.

Another upside to having him as your roommate would be his scent. Yeosang smelled good, always. You’ve deduced from the several times you’ve stayed over at his house that he’d smell peppermint fresh every after his showers. And a spritz of his super fucking expensive Tom Ford Oudwood perfume would compliment the scent greatly. The same perfume that lingered on your pillows and blankets after a full day of him wallowing in them.

You rolled over on your bed and stared up at your ceiling, every breath you took in smelled of peppermint, eucalyptus, and oudwood. A scent reminiscent of whenever your blonde best friend would hug you from behind. His arms wrapping around your waist and your back coming in contact with his sturdy chest.

What you’d give to have your hands trail down the expanse of his muscular arms. Tracing every curve and vein on him. His soft, plump skin under the pads of your fingers. Down to his large hands, ones that would engulf yours entirely whenever you would hold hands. His large calloused hands, always rough with all the dumbells he grips. Three years of kinesiology has taken a toll on his palms, making them rough to the touch. With all the constant exercise he does it’s no surprise that he’s absolutely covered in muscles. Ones that you can’t help but watch whenever he’s in a sleeveless tee and putting on a show for you by lifting weights. His muscles would tense and the veins on his arms would start pulse while you pulse as well but down south.

Shaking your head, you snap out of your dangerously risqué reverie and go back to cleaning your room. Pull yourself together! That’s your best friend you’re thinking about! You know he’s hot, that’s something you can’t deny, but it’s wrong; thinking of him in such ways.

“How despicable!” You mutter to yourself, getting up and trotting to your messy excuse of a desk.

Busying yourself with closing your laptop and cleaning up your desk, you fail to notice the black baseball cap laying by your feet. And when you turn to walk back to your bed, your foot knocks it over, catching your attention.

Picking it up, you examine it and realize that you don't own any baseball caps (you find them to be unflattering on your head). But Wooyoung does (loads of them), and Yeosang loves to sneakily take from his friend’s closets. You’re pretty sure he waltzed into your room today with a hat on, right before pulling it off his head and throwing it in some random direction in your room.

There’s that scent again! The one you heavily associate with Yeosang, but this time the eucalyptus scent seems stronger. Damn Yeosang and his shampoo.

Neatly placing it on your desk, you walk back to your bed and plop down on your back. The same mix of smells surrounding you once more. One that’s unique to Yeosang and him only.

You close your eyes, opting to take a nap after a tiring day of running after Yeosang when he grabbed a lacy bra from under your bed and threatened to tell Hongjoong about it. Imagining the mortified look on your brother’s face was somewhat funny, but knowing that he’s aware of your private life just makes you want to swallow battery acid. You huff and resituate your body under the covers, finally relaxing under the warmth that nearly lulls you to sleep.

But it’s distracting. Every time you inhale, that scent of Yeosang flows into your nose and your mind scurries to a memory of him.

And you can't help it.

All these thoughts of his stupidly handsome face coming so close to yours just to tease you. Or when he’d pin you to the ground before yelling at Wooyoung to grab the erotic novel they found in your closet and run with it. It was too much for your now short circuiting mind to handle.

Every time he picked you up like it was nothing to him to throw you into the pool, you’d think of a similar situation regarding him picking you up but this time throwing you onto the bed. And it’s just frustrating how sexually pent up you are for your best friend!

The subtle touches, the lingering stares, and his fucking scent! Even when musky and sweaty that stupid fucking oud wood would still compliment it! Stupid fucking Yeosang and his stupid fucking sexy face and body and !!!

You wanted to explode.

Your face now red and blood hot in your veins. The wet pool that formed on your underwear feels uncomfortable and there’s a burn inside your stomach that itches at you to be satisfied. Your is mind hazy and clouded with thoughts of your best friend, his eyes, his arms, his voice.

You don’t remember when or how your hand found its way into your pants, but your fingers coming into contact with your clit makes your legs jump and twitch.

Watching Yeosang twirl anything and everything with his fingers, you’d think about how good he’d be pinching and twisting your clit. Teasing your folds because you know that’s what he’d do. That fucking scum, he’d make you beg for it. You’re sure of that.

Your fingers dip into your cunt and it’s baffling how wet you’ve become just from thinking of Yeosang. You twist your head to the side and your nose hits the pillow sitting idly by your face. Again, his scent washes over your senses and you feel yourself clench around your fingers.

A soft moan escapes your lips when you focus on the pillow and realize this was the same one your best friend threw at your face earlier today. The sight of him bracing himself to throw the fluffy mass, making his arms flex and his shirt ride up his stomach. Giving you a glimpse of his toned abs and the happy trail leading down to his waistband.

Fuck! You were so wet, you could practically hear the sinful squelching of your digits pounding into your sopping cunt. But it wasn’t enough. Your nails clawed at your pillowcases, desperate to bring more of Yeosang’s scent to your senses.

With your breathing laboured and cheeks tinted, you flip yourself onto your chest. Hips rutting into your palms, your lips fall agape when your clit presses into your hand so deliciously. Your other hand reaches for the pillow beside your head and buries your face into it. Taking in breath after breath and trying to engrave as much of that peppermint, eucalyptus and oudwood scent into your mind. Not stopping until you feel yourself get lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.

You looked pathetic. Desperately riding your hand as if it was your best friend’s dick. God, you should feel sorry for yourself. But you don’t. It felt too good to care. The thought of Yeosang fucking you senseless was too hot of an idea to let go.

“Yeosang…” you pant, fisting the fabric in between your fingers, your shoulders going sore from the uncomfortable position you’re in. And so, with a huff, you pull your hand out of your pants and push yourself up on your knees. Your eyes start frantically searching across your bed for something, anything, to help you get off.

They land on your large gray bolster and you quickly snatch it. Tucking it in between your legs and rubbing your clothed cunt along the length. The added friction from the pillowcase sparks fire from your pussy up to your chest. Your skin starts to tingle and your walls clench around nothing.

Your thoughts are a mix of pleasure and Yeosang. His large hands trailing all over your body, his lips leaving kisses down your neck, and his dick— oh god, his dick! He’s fucking hung!

You were guilty of ogling at Yeosang’s crotch— you can’t help it! Every time he’d show up in sweatpants it’s like his cock would be begging to be let out. The imprint of his length would shamelessly lie on his thigh and he wouldn’t do anything about it. You’re a hundred percent sure he’s aware of his (not-so) little junior’s appearance but he’d just leave it at that! That bastard!

Planting your hands on the bed below you, you push your hips harder against the pillow, your legs spreading wider to attain more friction. You wonder how Yeosang’s stupid oudwood perfume would smell when mixed your cum. It would probably make it smell nice, you sneer.

A particular roll of your hips makes your clit press at the seam on the pillow and makes a moan slip out of your lips.

“Yeosang!”

Your voice is loud enough to echo through your room, down the halls and into Yeosang’s ears who stood by your door, dumbfounded. It’s not everyday you walk into your best friend’s apartment to hear them moaning out your name.

He only came back because he left his wallet and Wooyoung’s hat in your room. But now, he can’t move. What is he supposed to do? Walk out of there and act like it’s not affecting him when in reality it is? Or burst into your room and then what? Embarrass you into ignoring him for 10 years?

The man was caught between a rock and a hard place. And an even harder cock. As sudden as this situation hit him, he can’t deny that it was insanely sexy. His mind wanders to what you’re possibly doing. What’s making you feel so good that you moan out loud like that?

As if his feet had a mind of their own, he begins walking towards the direction of your room. The same one he was in not even fifteen minutes ago. Which sparks another question: Why were you so worked up? You seemed fine earlier. What triggered this sudden sexual desire for him?

Your voice becomes louder as Yeosang pads farther down the hallway, his throat bobs up and down and his dick twitches in his pants. Beads of sweat form at his hairline as his body heats up, heart hammering as he comes closer to your door. The polished wood was left ajar, giving him a glimpse of the inside.

There you were, perched atop the blankets and pillows, hands groping at your breasts and pussy desperately rubbing against … something. Yeosang can’t clearly see what it is.

This is wrong, the thought flies through his mind for a moment. But the little brain in the head of his dick is too loud, yelling at him to just barge in and fuck the living daylights out of his best friend. It’s all he ever asked for!

And before he could stop himself, he shoves the door open, knocking it into your desk and making you jolt.

“What the fuck?!” You scurry to close your legs and assess who the fuck just walked in on you humping your pillow.

“Yeosang?!” Your heart fell to the bottom of your stomach.

“I-I can ex-explain! It’s not what it looks like!” You manage to stutter.

“Cut the crap, I know what you were doing.” Came your best friend’s baritone voice from a few feet away from you. And, god, you feel like crying. You can’t decipher that look on his face, eyes dark and heavy on you, with his lips pressed into a thin line.

He’s gonna kill you. No, worse. He’s gonna cut ties with you, remember you as that one nasty bitch who humped her pillow moaning his name. Disgusting.

“I’m sorry! It’s just… I just…” you struggle to find an excuse for your despicable behaviour. “I-I promise it’s really not what it seems! I just, you know, I felt like— it’s actually, uhm I wanted to, I-it’s just I—”

“Just shut up and let me fuck you.”

“What—“

You don’t even notice Yeosang walking closer to you. All you remember is him bursting through your door and now he’s on his knees behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and manhandling your form to properly sit you in front of him. One of his large hands finds purchase on your breast and he starts to fondle.

“That was fucking hot, you know.” The man rasps into your ears, his lips pressing wet kisses onto the side of your neck.

It feels like you got whiplash. One moment you had your heart falling out of your ass and the next it’s back to hammering in your chest. You never expected to have the chance to feel Yeosang’s hands on you the way they are now. Running across your clothed skin and twisting your nipples while the other one makes a beeline for your waistband.

“Came back for my wallet,” he continues, hand now playing with the garter of your cotton shorts.

“but I got this treat instead.”

You feel his smile on your bare shoulder and then his hand slips into your underwear right after.

A yelp jumps out from your lips when Yeosang suddenly pinches your clit. The man smiles at your reaction before pressing two fingers onto the bundle of nerves. He feels you quiver in his arms and it makes him feel so victorious.

The blonde’s eyes trails down to where his hand disappeared into your shorts, and he spots the gray cushion with a wet patch. And it all clicks in his mind. He raises a brow as one corner of his lips tilts up, leaning closer to your ear, he whispers:

“Were you humping that pillow?”

You feel your blood rushing up to your face. What were you gonna tell him? ‘Yes. Because it smelled like you and I’m a bitch in heat’ ?

“I asked you a question.”

“ … yes.” Your voice meek and barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Yeosang.

“Why? What were you thinking of?”

It was that moment when your best friend decided to slip two fingers into your cunt. Yeosang makes a mental note to make fun of you for being so wet for him in the future, but for now he needs to focus on the task at hand.

“Y…you…” you don’t know where all this is coming from, why are you responding? How are you even responding? Your mind short circuited a couple minutes ago!

“It s-smells like you.”

This one makes Yeosang nearly stop, but he catches himself before you notice and drives his fingers harder into you. A smile spreads across his lips and he scoffs, clicking his tongue at the effect you have on him.

“That’s fucking hot, y/n.”

Your back arches and your head falls onto his shoulder. He was reaching places you never could. Granted, his hands were so much bigger than yours, fingers longer and able to reach places in your walls you didn't even know about. His fingers curl up and they brush against a spongy patch inside you. You don’t know what it is but it makes your toes curl and elicits a louder moan from you.

“There?” Yeosang felt it too. “You like it there?”

You could hear the smirk in his tone, and you’re about to turn to him and ask him what’s so funny, but his fingers graze over that spot again. Your thighs quake and you hear yourself moaning something akin to ‘yes’.

Yeosang’s other hand snakes down into your pants, tugging at the waistband and signalling you to lift your hips up. He then pulls the garments down your thighs when you do so, albeit a little difficult since he refuses to pull his fingers out of you. But he succeeds, and with his now free hand, he pushes your legs wider and pressed his fingers onto your clit.

With the pillow forgotten below you, you melt into Yeosang’s arms. Hands grasping at his veiny skin, silently pleading him for more. His hands press harsh circles onto you and your eyes roll back as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into your body. Your lips hang open, moaning out loud for Yeosang to hear.

It’s sinful really, how much Yeosang enjoys the sound of his fingers fucking into you. How your whispered curses and moans of his name goes straight down to his dick. And if you thought your pillow smelled so good earlier, what will you think now? After it’s doused with your juices. Yeosang would love to sink his nose into that.

The clenching of your pussy around his fingers is what brings him out of his thoughts.

“You close, y/n?”

His voice vibrates through your body and shakes your core. You manage to gasp out ‘yes’ and a ‘please’, but you’re not too sure what you were pleading for. Your breath quickens and Yeosang only watches as your chest rapidly rises and falls, your thighs beginning to quiver even more, threatening to close around his hand when your orgasm washes over you.

But then it all stops.

“Huh?” It’s as if your world just collapsed. The pleasure building up to your climax higher and higher only for it to suddenly crumble down. Euphoria was right at the tip of your fingertips but it was ripped away from your grasps. You could cry, you were so close that it hurt.

You frantically turn to look at Yeosang only to find him already staring at you. There’s a certain glint in his eyes that shows he has a plan, and you never like it when that happens.

“Well.” He starts, pulling his soaked fingers out of your cunt, and you whine at the emptiness. “I should get going.”

The fog in your mind immediately disappears and your clutch at your best friend’s wrists.

“No! You can’t!”

Yeosang gives you a look of faux confusion, it makes you want to punch him in the throat.

“What do you mean? I only came back to get my wallet and Woo’s hat.”

He turns his head to look by your desk. “There they are!”

When you feel him begin to shuffle off the bed your arm instinctively wraps around his. Holding onto him for dear life. No way in hell is he gonna leave you high and dry, cunt exposed and wet.

“No! Don’t go yet! Please, Yeosang!”

He hums, the fingers still on your clit go back to drawing figure eights onto the nub. But this time, lighter, slower and more infuriating. It’s as if his fingers were barely there and it’s driving you up the wall!

“It’s getting late though…” he trails off, eyes on the alarm clock on your bedside table.

You feel him slowly put more pressure onto your clit and the sparks come back to life. A jolt comes running up your spine and your hips start to gyrate in rhythm with his fingers.

“It’s only four…” you respond, voice airy and nearing a moan. Your eyes flutter shut and you concentrate on the feeling of Yeosang’s fingers on you. His chest against your back, and his arm snug around your waist.

The room falls quiet again, save for your soft sighs and an occasional gasp when you feel your clit being pinched. Your breath falls in sync with Yeosang’s and you, again, melt back into his embrace.

The slow and steady pace is surprisingly bringing you up to another orgasm. The now familiar pattern of his fingers is giving you a sense of consistency. Your walls clench around the air and you feel your cunt leak with warm fluids, no doubt staining even more the already stained pillow beneath you.

Slowly but surely, your breath starts to pick up once more. Thighs twitching and hips bucking into the hand toying with your cunt.

Just like that! You can feel your high coming up again. So so close. If he just keeps at it for a few more seconds then you–

“It’s getting dark, y/n.” Yeosang stops again, this time pulling his fingers off of you completely.

“Fuck you, Yeosang!”

The man holds back an amused chuckle. Who knew it would only take a little bit of teasing for you to crumble.

“Me?” Yet he keeps his innocent facade. “What do you want from me?”

Your hand guides his back to your pussy, using his fingers to rub all over your clit again like he was your toy.

“Fuck you and your stupid Tom Ford Oudwood perfume!”

You scowl in between moans, hips bucking up to dig his fingers harder into you.

“A-and your stupid fucking peppermint body wash!”

This time Yeosang moves his fingers with yours, swiping harshly across your sensitive nub. His smirk grows wider at your words. He had no idea you got this worked up over his body wash.

“And your … your fucking— ah! Fucking eucalyptus shampoo!”

His other hand joins back in, still wet with all your slick from earlier. He traces them up and down your folds, gathering up even more of your juices to smear them across your thighs.

“That’s nice.” He chuckles, low and baritone into your ears. A shiver shoots up your spine when you feel his breath warm on your skin.

“But I still don’t know what you want from me.”

This bastard! He’s making you beg, you were right! You knew he wouldn’t give in that easily. That glint in his eyes almost made you nauseous. Yet here you are, licking your lips and getting ready to beg as if it was your life on the line. Absolutely sickening.

“Time’s ticking, y/n.”

Salvaging your pride was no longer an option, the need to cum was stronger and it was slowly driving you insane.

“Let me cum, Yeosang.” You pant.

“Please! Please please please… I want to cum. Please, can I cum?”

“Can’t hear you.”

God! You want to scream! Tear your hair out! Cry even!! Why is he so cruel?!

“Fucking hell! Please Yeosang! Can I cum please?!! It hurts.” Your voice loud enough that you’re sure your neighbours had heard you.

“Loud and clear, baby.” He whispers into your ear.

Before you had the chance to revel in the introduction of a new petname for you, three of his fingers suddenly plunge into your pussy. He pulls them back to only the tips and pounds them back inside, knuckles deep. The pace he sets is hard and fast, it makes your head spin and breath get stuck in your throat.

A shriek rips out of you when Yeosang presses harsher circles onto your clit. Your thighs come to close around his hands and your eyes roll back, pleasure quickly flooding through your senses. The blonde pulls a hand away to grip at your thigh and force your legs back open. His arm flexes and you subconsciously run your fingers over the veins along his forearms. The feeling of his hard muscles and the ridges of each vein nearly makes you cum on the spot. Throwing your head back onto his shoulder, you look up to make eye contact with him as his hand goes back to toying with your clit.

“Keep this pussy open for me, baby.”

If the man behind you didn’t edge you twice before, you’d be embarrassed by how close you are to cumming right now. Your moans get cut short by something that sounds similar to a sob and tears start to gather at your waterline. Your body is writhing and twitching and squirming all thanks to Yeosang’s hands on your pussy.

Your body then stiffens and all you can see is white behind your eyes, your nerves burning and tingling as you finally get to cum. It’s an orgasm so intense you start to shake and your cunt clenches oh so tight around Yeosang’s fingers.

But the man is relentless, even with your mind-numbing orgasm he still continues to pump his digits in and out of you. He sighs, mesmerized by the creamy white ring your cum created on his hand. You were cumming so much it makes him want to cum too.

It was only when your quivering ceases and you reach down to tug his hand from between your legs does he stop. Your body now limp and twitching with oversensitivity, but your muscles were relaxed and your breathing was now calming down.

Sleep nearly wins you over when you feel Yeosang shift behind you. You turn around to look at him and there's a new glint in his eyes. One that tells you that he’s far from being done with you.

all rights reserved © heterotragedies 2022.

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[xbabybajix]

Mugiwaras at a Rave ✨

note: this are my headcanons about the strawhats being at a rave bc they seem like party people so why not add them to an au?? Hope y’all enjoy! Feel free to add your own! :)

Luffy:

•would be the first to suggest to pregame before the actual event

•but zoro would definitely second the idea and already have the bottle out

•luffy’s fave raves are the bigger ones like EDC, Countdown, Beyond Wonderland, Escape, maybe even Coachella or Hard Summer and Lollapalooza

•definitely listens to Porter Robinson and will always go if he’s in the lineup

•his faves aside are: zedds dead, Audien, Dash Berlin, Major Lazor, Alison Wonderland,

•definitely wears colorful tops-even crop tops , but will not change the sandals or strawhat, it’s just his signature look (even adds beads to the straw hat too😭)

•ALSO WEARS NEON FACE PAINT THAT NAMI SAYS MAKES HIM LOOK LIKE HE’S READY TO PARTY

•is the type to party with everyone, they’ll be like “hey man me and my homies just saw you from across the tent and wanted to say we LOVE YOUR VIBES” luffy: ok *will pop a pill with the randoms 😭

•you can’t tell me luffy isn’t down for anything that happens at a rave so he’s definitely drinking, popping ecstasy, smoking (not cocaine tho)

•nami ends up being his baby sitter bc she refuses to let anything happen to him if she’s also under the influence

•if he gets down, then she will most likely be more sober enough to look after him

•when the raves happening he likes to be on top of frankie’s shoulders for the view

•also is the type to be super affectionate with his crew when the dj plays a song they all love and records it

•also LOVES taking as many group photos and fit pics before and after

Zoro:

•is not AS festive as Luffy but will go bc he likes to be around him during the fun

•doesn’t do the druggies BUT he will get plastered, sometimes even before they head out he’s already drunk as hell

•nami will not let him go like that bc she doesn’t wanna babysit so they sober him up

•then once they’re there he’s fucked up again 💀

•might get lost idk (I don’t like to push onto that directionally challenge fact abt him much so ya) even if he did it’d be a good time cuz he’d probably make new drinking buddies

•his attire is more simple- definitely rocks the headband with sleeveless muscle tee and tight shorts maybe? (Carries the backpack for the group bc it weighs nothing to him lmao)

•doesn’t have a preferred dj he likes but if it’s a hype song u know he’s there head banging WITH THE BOYSSSS

•is hit on by a lot of the rave babes there but zoro is annoyed by them pls

•prefers smaller raves bc he doesn’t like big crowds

•bring zoro to the rave😈

Nami:

•gonna be biased here bc I’m in love with Nami

•A TOTAL RAVE BABE! Will go ALL OUT on her outfit: the sparkles, face paint, and wears almost nothing to the event or a cute crop fit (depending on the theme of the rave) hair is done, makeup is flawless and also is the one who’s planned the entire trip for them

•bc of that everyone else makes sure she has time for her fun

•luffy, sanji and frankie make sure no creepy dudes come up to her or even TRY to lay a hand on her

•she takes the cutes pics with robin who’s also dressed with ‘rave babe’ attire

•makes friends with a lot of girls there bc they’re all drunk and just complimenting each other’s fits

•becomes famous on social media over this

•is actually really into a lot of dj’s similar to luffy’s but she also likes ppl like dj snake, tiesto, illenium, disclosure, david guetta, kygo, steve aoki, etc

•will twerk on people she doesn’t gaf (mostly on other girls 😛)

•will also pop ecstasy or smoke weed but never has a bad trip bc she’s built different

•she’ll be on jinbe’s shoulder while luffy is next to her on franky’s 😭

•luffy & nami duo at a rave is wholesome but also can be chaotic if they’re both high and drunk off their minds

•they end up attracting a crowd bc of how goofy they are being and people love it

•at some point luffy blacks out and nami is like “ok time to go home now i guess :(“

•franky is carrying out both of them by the shoulders and they are sound asleep <3

Sanji:

•perviness aside, Sanji is the second one who’s looking the best after nami

•definitely takes the time to look super hot and will wear something that makes his arm muscles show and his snatched waist plsss

•loves going because women hit on him

•but is equally simping right back- he is in heaven

•will sometimes stray away from the group bc he met a girl (i think rave!sanji is a whore idc he definitely gets laid)

•if he doesn’t get laid then he’s out in the crowd getting into the music and is jumping around

•is always dehydrated lmao

•oh yeah he’s a huge foodie so he loves trying the stuff they have at the food trucks

•is pretty sober by the end of the night

•also takes super pretentious pictures but they look good ofc

•is down for any kind of rave

Usopp:

•my boyyyyy is looking SUPER FLY to the rave, the group loves Rave!usopp bc of how hot he is

•along with luffy, he’s a bit chaotic when it’s him and nami as well

•likes the dubstep sounding edm music and will be the one to record the crowd and jump along with them

•also loves to record dumb shit like people fighting 💀 or anything funny that happens

•stays within the group

•he knows where the crowds are more fun and that’s how they discover new artists too

•is super nice to girls that ask him if they can sit on his shoulders and he says yes

•gets bitches but usopp is respectful and just makes sure they have a good time

•loves taking group pics and will make vids of himself and luffy like “edc with the fam😤😎”

Robin:

•plsss robin’s rave outfits are always super sexy but kind of iconic?? Like she literally has the best fit there

•is like nami but not vocal about it, will go along with her shenanigans and watch it all unfold

•she likes to bring her own weed to the raves and doesn’t like to take anything that isn’t from her plug

•rave!robin likes to sway to the music and have her hands up and jump around sometimes

•a lot of girls go up to her about her outfit and she’s always nice about it and tells them her little diy hacks and where she buys her stuff

•likes to buy bracelets for the gang

•if someone fucks with luffy and tries to insinuate a fight she’s flaming

•do not fuck with robin bc she will punch a dude for Luffy lmao even tho he could’ve kicked his ass

•”I didn’t want you to get hurt” Luffy: punching him would’ve fired me up even more >:) her: 🙂 ok

•AND SHE LETS HIM THROW A PUNCH LMAO

•hangs out with franky most of the time bc he’s also mellow as she is but he is a bit more up her alley with how they have fun

Franky:

•DAD ENERGY

•obnoxiously high amounts of highlight and his hair omggg he loves to get creative with him and people hype him tf up

•everyone: are u fr going out like that? 😐 him: YEAH THE PEOPLE LOVE ME YOURE ALL JUST JEALOUS😎

•robin also loves it (they are not shipped here but frobin supremacy SO TRUE)

•has the best photographer skills bc of his height, and his body allows him to be included in their group pics HAH

•RAVE FRANKY HAS A BUILT IN SELFIE STICK >:)

•is always gonna be in the back during bc he’s so fckn tall unless luffy asks him to take him to the front😭 everyone else just circles around him to get a view lmao

•franky may have a drink or two but he’s honestly having a good time sober too

•if there are rave himbos u know franky will be in A LOT of random ppl’s pictures bc he’s so charismatic and friendly

•will tweet: “edc with the fam👍🏻 good times with good people” 😂😂😂 and all these replies are like “have fun king”

Brook:

•brook is like that old dude who hangs out with younger people to have fun but it’s ok here

•brook just smokes weed at raves

•is also festive with the look, goes with the classic hippie with headband and curly hair deal but with ✨fashion

•sometimes gets weird looks from people until they see how fun he really is

•the other stoners see him as a god at raves bc he carries the BEST weed and is also super funny

•just vibes to the music by swaying his arms around to the beat

•but if he’s feeling a bit playful 😛 he’ll try to crowd surf and pop out some dance moves

•sometimes they leave without brook bc he always ends up getting dropped off back to the hotel but the friends he made LMAO

Jinbe:

•uncle vibes 😎 but he’s a good time

•doesn’t do the rave look but thinks wearing beads with an oversized shirt counts 👍🏻

•bops his head to the music and headbangs if he’s feeling it

•is never left out by the gang so he enjoys spending time with them

•will usually help nami with taking pictures and also knows all the best angles

•if he runs into older people he ends up having his own group and they all just hangout at a food or drink spot and have convos (pls i can see him being friends with professors who like to rave, I used to have a prof who did hence where this idea popped up from)

•makes sure everyone is safe and altogether by the end of the night

•will have blankets or sweaters ready for the girls and Luffy in case it’s cold

•suggests they all eat after having nothing but drugs and alcohol in their system LOL

Chopper:

•chopper is a baby so for the sake of this I’ll make it short and he’ll be a reindeer in this au

•they carry him like a backpack and make him stay still so he can get thru the bag check LOL

•surpringly he does bc nami sweet talks the security and says it’s her emotional support plushie

•once he’s in they make a stop to take him to try the food and sweet stations

•robin and chopper duo at a rave is cuteee, she just carries him around so he doesn’t walk anywhere but once she does people surround them like crazy

•everyones like “YOOOOO A TALKING REINDEER LOOK” and he goes viral

•they try to make him dance to edm music HAHA

•chopper loves the attention and lets them take him crowd surfing

•sometimes will end up on a dj’s shoulders and he feels so popular omg

•dj: “if anyone is looking for this reindeer looking thing it’s up here on the main stage and it’s definitely a crowd pleaser!! Might just keep this little guy for myself” and then you hear luffy yell out “ OI LOOK ITS CHOPPER AND HE’S ON tyDI’s SHOULDER”

[0lympian-c0uncil]

GREEK GOD DESCRIPTIONS PT 4: HERMES, APHRODITE, HEPHAESTUS, AND DIONYSUS!

Aphrodite: 6’9, long wavy blonde and brown hair, with a ting of red, has an undercut, well built, has vitilato, loves to flex, eye color depends on how she’s feeling, godly attire is, a long multicolored robe, no shoes, bracelets line her arms, and lots of rings, necklaces, girdle, sometimes will wear a blindfold, mortal attire is, skinny jeans or shorts, sometimes sweatpants if lazy, crop top, or tight low cut button down tee, heels, Leighton lace-up boots, face mask sometimes, loves hoodies, rings decorate her fingers, her ears are completely pierced, cyber piercings on her lips, and spider bite lip rings, most noticeable scars are, 8 scars along her cheek and neck, 4 scars on her lower back, has Ares, and Hephaestus’s symbols on the back of her shoulders, and the sky tattooed across her collarbone.

Hephaestus: 7’1, long wavy, dark brown hair, usually in a man bun, short beard, dark skin, built like a brick house, orange brown eyes, godly attire is, short gray tunic, belt, large boots, thick metal bracelets, sometimes a helmet, mortal attire is, golden glasses, white tank top, oversized shirts, hoodies, baggy ripped jeans, fingerless black gloves, large military boots, sometimes wears a mask, big belt, thick rings, industrial piercing, gear earrings, lip ring, nose ring, most noticeable scars are, large burn scars on his arms, a large battle scar on his back, wears black metallic accessories along his body, tattoos of different mechanical tools on his back, a fire symbol on his bicep, a heart tattoo for Aphrodite on his chest.

Hermes: 6’8, Short light brown hair, with shaved sides, tips dyed white, tan skin, skinny, lean muscled, dark blue eyes, white pupils, godly attire is, a simple white tunic, around his waist, sandals, sometimes a helmet, or just fully naked, mortal attire is, sleeveless, turtlenecks, shirtless, croptops, shorts, tights, sweatpants, flip flops, sandals, fingerless gloves, sometimes shoeless, eyebrow piercing, bright blue tongue piercing, ears are fully pierced, most of them are sky themed, most noticable scars are, his ear is partially ripped up, has a deep scar around his ankle, a small cut on his bottom lip, and a burn along his stomach, has a snake skelaton tattooed saround his arm, and has two wing tattoos on both his hips.

Dionysus: 6'7, long silky, dark brown hair, brown skin, no destinct body type for him, but is well muscled, golden purple eyes, godly attire is, either not clothing at all, or a purple robe, animal skins, and a crown made of ivy, shoeless, mortal attire is, dark purple v-neck, ripped jeans, booty shorts, croptops, oversized sweaters, with sweatpants, shoeless, has a nose chain piercing, shark bite piercings, nape piercing, has dark green ear gauges, most noticeable scars are, dark claw marks on his cheek that goes down to his neck and shoulder, Five long jagged scars on his left arm, and a large wide wound on his hip, has the mark of Demeter tattooed on the back of his neck, has a grape vine tattooed around his waist.