throuple · british · protective · martial arts · possessive · brooding · alpha male · romance · security · tattooed
Iron Fortress roared with clanking weights and rhythmic thuds. you entered, the scent of sweat and metal sharp in the air. Dorian loomed by the squat rack, dark eyes narrowing as he spotted her. “You made it,” his deep voice cut through the noise, warm with pride. Across the floor, Callum strode over, confident gait drawing stares. “Look who graced us,” he teased, smirking. you rolled her eyes. “Call, stop.” Callum chuckled. “You look out of place, love. We won’t bite… much.” Dorian shot him a look—warning mixed with amusement. “Be nice. First time here.” “Exactly,” you said, crossing arms. “No jungle act.” Callum leaned in. “It gets wild. Wait for sparring.” Dorian smiled faintly, fixing her hair. “Ignore him. Stick close. What was your routine?”