#without strictly looking like one ofc

[sunnixsunshine]

A biplane but with a blimp like….. *thing* instead of the upper plane? Yes. So i know how this works? No. Do I like the design? It looks goofy enough to fit into one piece so yes, i like it. Machine design is harrrrdddddddd any tips???????? 😩🥺

[satoblue]

MDNI, f!reader, ghost husband satoru (he is dead after shinjuku but is stuck between worlds and haunts you), a little angsty at first then smutty, masturbation (satoru ofc sigh he is a freak even when deceased), cumming on your face. | not proofread, will likely play around with this idea more in the future, dividers made by me

ghost husband satoru . . . if there is one thing that hasn’t changed about him even though he is without a corporeal form — it is that he is capable of turning any situation sexual. though, his freakiness proves rather helpful this time as it confirms that maybe you can sense him at times. it first happens when you’re asleep one night, and like usual, your husband is watching over you.

all he feels - and all you feel these past couple of days - is nothing but grief and heartbreak. both of you were mourning (though he was the only one who was technically dead) the loss of each other and how you’d no longer be able to hold one another. to kiss, to caress, to feel your heartbeats against your chests. he often finds himself lost in thought, gazing at something distant and out of his reach, sights strictly stuck on your form. you toss and turn — and satoru, he would always complain about your icy feet and how he’d wake up in the middle of the night to your foot on his cheek. but now, he wishes more than anything in the world to feel the chill of your skin than that of death.

with each passing night, you only grow more restless as satoru’s scent seems to dissipate from the sheets and from the air of your home. you feel even colder than normal, the bed no longer warm and inviting. there was no comforting presence alongside you, no loud snores and breaths right beside your ear as a certain someone invades your space. for once and for forever, you have the bed all to yourself — and you hate it.

eventually, at some point, you end up on your back, lightly snoring as you finally manage to shut your eyes. satoru lets out a breath of relief. at least you’d have a couple hours of sleep to properly function the next day. as he continues to stare, however, his eyes don’t fail to roam over you — attention shifting from your face to your heaving chest. he can tell you weren’t wearing a bra like usual — your nipples poking through the thin fabric of your shirt.

seconds pass as he looks, and the harder he does . . . the harder he gets down below. satoru’s head whips down in shock, a bit flustered at the way his cock twitches to (ironically) life. how could he still do that? this paranormal stuff is weird — his paranormal penis is weird. out of all the times to get an erection . . . your husband shoots his gaze towards you, where you lay all sprawled out, covers kicked off from your wrestle with an imaginary creature in your dreams (at least, that is what he picked up on from your sleepy mumbles).

could he even…… cum? — like this, he means. he didn’t even know he could get a boner in this state so it wouldn’t exactly hurt to try. satoru crawls atop the bed slowly — and it doesn’t shift or dip as if he’s lighter than a feather, like he doesn’t even exist. yet, he still does so quietly and carefully, as if scared to wake you even though he knows it isn’t possible. he makes his way on top of you, straddling you. and as he lingers above, looking down at the sight of your slightly parted lips in your slumber, spying a bit of drool at the corner — he can’t help but throb in his pants with interest. you look so innocent and peaceful, and yet, your filthy (dead) husband can’t help but be a freak at a moment like this by getting off to it.

after a bit of (no) contemplating, he tugs down the front of his pants, enough to free his cock just a bit. he hisses slightly as his tip meets the abnormally icy air and with a sigh, he starts stroking himself — right above your face. unbelievably, heat creeps up onto his face and spreads throughout his entire body. this was wrong, but . . . you wouldn’t mind right? it’s not as though you knew your husband whom you’ve been crying over for the past few weeks is jerking off on you while you sleep . . . as a ghost.

the hand stroking him works faster, and if he could, he’d probably be sweating by now. letting out a string of groans and whines, his tip leaks and dribbles a bit onto your shirt, but it doesn’t bleed through and soak it. with that, he feels a little bolder, more confident and assured in his depravity and runs his mushroom tip over your lips only to feel a mixture of irritation and disappointment as it does nothing for him. all it serves is sending a weird sensation down his spine at the contact.

regardless of that, satoru imagines himself cumming straight into your open mouth, the familiar coil in his stomach building and he starts strokes himself even quicker, breathless gasps permeating the air while his hips rut desperately into his own hand. and before he can stop himself — his cock explodes, sending rope after rope of his semen on your face.

with a flinch, your eyes shoot wide open. satoru yelps, jolting back in surprise, almost stumbling back but catching himself with a hand on the bedding.

you blink up at the ceiling, startled like a lamb, before your hand reaches up slowly. and if his heart could beat, it’d be thundering in his chest right about now. he swallows, watching closely as you feel around your face for whatever just hit you …….. only to find nothing.

huh?

the evidence of his transparent orgasm doesn’t budge the slightest bit as your fingers trace around the perimeter of your face. that is, until you sit up and he shuffles back a bit, making room for you even though he technically doesn’t have to (it’s more out of instinct). and right then, his seed starts dripping down, unable to defy gravity. but you can no longer sense it now, as if the odd sensation suddenly vanished.

but, you felt it. you felt the phantom feeling of him blowing his load all over your face. out of all the things he’s done so far to get you to acknowledge that he is here, that he’s touching you — that’s the first bit of contact you recognize?

[nisuna]

I humbly request more step bro Yuuji… 😳

And I shall most certainly deliver ;^)♡

this is heavily inspired by one of enoki junya's audio dramas, which is just chef's kiss iykyk, without further ado hope you enjoy!!<3

TW: stepcest, first time?(sus), allegedly inexperienced, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, mating press, missionary, Nee-chan🤤, aged up ofc, ~1.5k words

♡masterlist♡

-------------------strictly 18+; MDNI-------------------

"Can I eat you out?"

You definitely did not expect to find yourself in this kind of situation when Yuji first came to visit you today. It was weird, but you were definitely intrigued.

"Have you ever done that before?"

"No", he confessed. "But im a fast learner!" he exclaimed and you could see his imaginary tail wagging with excitement. How can you say no to those puppy eyes.

"I can't believe I'm doing this.", you sighed.

He was waiting patiently with begging eyes. However, as soon as you gave him the go ahead he immediately latched his teeth onto the waistband of your panties, pulling them down in one smooth motion.

"Where did you learn that move from?, you cocked an eyebrow, suspicion growing

"That's a secret" he chuckled sticking his tongue out in excitement. "Whoa you're glistening and I havent even touched you yet. You're really amazing Nee-chan."

"Shut up."

"Alright, alright, just tell me if you're uncomfortable."

"Fuck just do it already ah-"

You moaned as soon as his tongue hit you, legs cramping and toes curling. His licks were so delicate and soft, it had your legs squirming, unsure where you should put them. So he made that decision for you by hoisting them over his broad shoulders. As he sprawled out one of his big palms over your tummy to pin you down the other slipped under your thin top grabbing a handful of your breast.

The sudden intrusion made you speeze his face between your thighs. Borderline suffocating, but he loved every second of it nonetheless.

He meticulously fondled your breast, pinching your nipple ever so often. Every small movement of his pushed you more and more over the edge. Soon you couldn't do anything but chant his name over and over. When you finally came on his tongue he kept licking you through your orgasms. He did not want to pull away, but as soon as you started whining from the overstimulation he finally did, a mix of his spit and your juices running down his chin.

He leaned his cheak against your thigh before he spoke up. "Whoa, she's so pretty" he hummed running his fingers through your pussy, admiring it.

"Don't say stupid things like that. Besides, you're a dirty liar. As if that was your first time ever doing that!"

"But she is!", he firmly stated thick fingers spreading you open, trying to get an even better look at your cunt and completely ignoring your accusations. "If you dont believe me we can do it in front of a mirror next time mh-", you slapped your hand over his mouth, which only earned you a moan and a lick to your palm.

You let out a long sigh before speaking up, "Thats enough, Mr.", you pulled his ear, "Come up here and kiss me, if your mouth doesn't have anything better to do."

He grinned before kissing up your body and finally pushing his lips against yours. At the same time he pushed two thick fingers inside of you, making you gasp at the sneak attack and pull his hair. He groaned at the pain, before latching his mouth onto your neck.

He was trying to stretch you out, because how could he possibly fit into such a tight hole, when his fingers barely had any room. After a few kisses and bites to your neck he deemed you ready.

He was gentle when he as he slotted himself between your legs.

"Shit, I don't have any condoms", he panicked frantically looking across the room.

"It's fine. I like it better without, anyway...", you trailed off.

"Shit", he groaned. "You really are the best, Nee-chan." With a content sigh he lined himself up with you, before starting to push in. To his surprise he was still faced with some resistance.

"Ah you're so tight, please relax Nee-chan ah"

"Easier said than done", you groaned putting your arm over your eyes.

You both moaned, when he finally bottomed out.

"Wow, im really inside of you..."

One moment he was caressing your thighs so sweetly and the next he was knocking the wind out of your lungs with his harsh thrusts. You did not expect that much force from someone who claimed that he had no experience.

"Wait slow down mh-!", he cut you off by leaning down and kissing you, cradling your face in his big palms.

"Have you done this with anyone before?", he mumbled against your lips. "You're my first, Nee-chan."

"Liar.", you moaned.

"Am I?"

"Mh, whatever. Just, slowly, it's been a while.", you felt your cheeks burn up at the lame confession of not getting laid. You were trying to enjoy it, but with each thrust, you kept adjusting your body. And of course, he noticed.

"Is it uncomfortable? Here put your leg up."

Without much resistance, he hoisted one leg over his shoulder. The new position made your eyes roll back, as he was hitting you deeper now. You couldnt stop the sounds that kept falling from our mouth and with each thrust you squeezed him just right, making him moan in return

"Whoa do you like it? Does this angle feel good.", he gently pecked your ankle.

"Mhm~~", you mewled, instinctively covering your face with your hands.

"Please dont hide, Nee-can. I want to see you."

He leaned down now pressing both of your legs against your chest, which earned him another moan.

"Wow, you're so flexible, Nee-chan. How lewd~"

He kissed your hands covering your face. "Please look at me nee chan. I want to see how good I'm making you feel.

He sounded so sweet, so who were you to deny him. When you finally looked up, big brown eyes were staring right back at you.

"Does it feel good?", he smiled and you pulled him into another kiss.

"Yes, it feels really good.", you smiled, holding his face in your hands.

"Oh, Nee-chan", he cried hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "I'm so happy right now."

He slowed down and came to a halt. Just hugging you and breathing in your scent. He soon let your legs down and leaned back. With him he pulled your hands down so your arms were pushing your tits together. He could hold both of your wrists in one rough hand and the mental image of him being bigger than you in every sense of the word made you squirm. He stuck his tongue out at the sight in front of him. Looking down to where you two were connected and at your messy face. After a few deep breaths he went to town.

In this new position you could feel him getting close, so you put your legs around his waist, essentially trapping him.

"Wait, Nee-chan. If you do that I'm going to cum." he he looked at you with a panicked expression.

"I know~", you grinned with excitement.

"I can cum inside of you, right? Please can I cum inside?"

He was too cute to deny him, so you moaned with a nod.

"Yes please fill me up~"

The way you stuck your tongue out really got him.

"Fuck you're so hot."

As soon as he let go of your hands, he hugged you tight, almost suffocating you with his beefy arms and within a couple thrusts he spilled his thick seed deep inside of you.

He was out of breath and his heart was about to jump out of his chest, so you tried your best to calm him down by caressing his hair humming contently. His head was resting on your breasts and he swore he was in heaven.

After a brief moment of silence he looked up at you with a stern expression and said, "Only do it with me from now on, okay? I want to be the only one to see you like this. I will do anything you want, so please, Nee-chan, just me."

You tried holding your laughter at his cute request, so you ruffled his fluffy pink hair before putting your foreheads together and whipering a quitet "Sure." against his lips. Life was good.

---

"Tell me tho, that wasn't really your first time right? That was just an act to get me in my feels.", you lifted an eyebrow at him and he expertly averted his gaze. His face had *caught* written all over it, so you pulled on his cheek to get his attention.

"First one that meant anything to me, though.", he pouted.

Darn sweet talker.

-----

Gaaaahhh I havent written for him in so long I really missed him 🤧🩷

Anyway, hope you enjoyed, please lmk what you thought! Until next time MWAH

[erzva]

big fan of pussy drunk ! luffy..

. . .

its canon to me idk

like if your brain doesn’t register this as canon or something that’s very in character for luffy you’re just wrong

although i do also definitely see him as aroace or think he could be aroace

but if i were to strictly hc him as aroace it wouldn’t really be any fun for me, a luffy lover.

so i also see him as someone who loves sex. not in a weird way. he just loves you and making you feel good. and feeling good himself. + it’s so fun. everyone knows luffy is weak to things that are fun. idk i just think he would enjoy sex a lot with the person he loves.

or i can honestly also see him being aromantic but pansexual. and just liking sex as an activity. he’s a very active kid so, again, i think he would enjoy sex. bc sex can be fun and intimate and enjoyable

like there’s no way he wouldn’t wanna try it. he loves trying new things. you’re telling me he wouldn’t go feral after his first time with you? you opened his mind to something new and very fun

he’ll be asking for sex all the time now.

this man is mischievous and annoying. he does whatever he sets his mind to

so there’s not really telling him no.

ofc he won’t force you

but he’s exceptionally skilled at getting people to do whatever he wants.

he’ll make you come around sooner or later

because once he’s set on wanting to bury his cock into your warm cunt, he won’t stop until he gets to do it

he will start whining and begging if you don’t give him what he wants right away

especially if you give a lame excuse like “the others will hear” or “what if someone walks in”. if you pull any of tha, he knows he can be annoying and pushy.

but he also knows when you’re serious about your ‘excuses’ or “no’s” so he’d just drop it and opt for the second best thing in the world after meat: you. touching you, hugging you, clinging to you.

bc even if he can’t have sex with you, which is always so much fun and feels good- he doesn’t mind because it’s not important to him. being with you is enough

and honestly you were only truly against having sex very rarely. like when you were feeling unwell or it was an unfitting moment or whatnot. but you liked having him work for it. because you know that eventually he’ll start being whiny and desperate. oh and how you loved desperate luffy. begging with his big dark chocolate brown eyes.. and whining into your ear while rubbing himself on you, trying to hide what’s going on by disguising it as a hug so it doesn’t look too suspicious to your poor crewmates who unfortunately already know what he’s doing anyway..

until you finally give in and give him what he wants only for him to give you the biggest most genuine sunshine smile ever. his eyes widening at you giving him the go. it’s probably what you love most about him. his smile and how his entire face lights up..

however when it’s just the two of you in the captains chambers his expression turns dark and serious very fast. usually with a hint of mischief but not always. he can be very serious in moments like this too. you made him wait long enough. no time for silliness

there’s two types of pussydrunk ! luffy

he goes feral and it’s messy, chaotic and desperate. fast and rough, anything to get the two of you to reach climax.

slow loving sensual passionate sex. the kind of sex that really shows how much you love one another. the kind everyone dreams about. it feels good and it’s emotional

whenever he just wants to have fun and feel good, he’ll opt for the first version. the kissing would be hungry, passionate and desperate. he’ll be kissing and sucking on your neck and groping you harshly to get you wet. he’s impatient and just wants to cum deep inside of you. but not before he gets to lap at your delicious cunt. first things first. luffy never starts penetration without getting you nice and wet with his tongue beforehand.

but when he’s feeling sappy and emotional and loving the sex would be very sensual. but not necessarily slow. you still wanna cum after all. but the foreplay would be a lot more soft and gentle and he would take his time with you. kissing you everywhere thoroughly and massaging your flesh.

he doesnt only get pussydrunk for his cock inside your cunt though

he also gets pussy drunk when eating you out

oftentimes wanting to go more than one round

usually sex with him includes making out heavily, him eating your cunt, penetration / you grinding on him / you giving him a hand or blowjob- and then him eating you out again.

he is a MUNCH. he’s gonna be all up in your pussy

i mean he loves eating and never cared about what he looks like while eating (which is usually very chaotic and dirty) so you bet he’s gonna be just as messy when it comes to you and your cunt

he buries his face so deep in your pussy it’s overstimulating sometimes because he doesn’t stop once you cum. he stops when he wants to stop

sex isn’t sex without him getting a taste of you

and he oftentimes only wants to eat your pussy

keyword being “eat” bc it really does feel like he’s eating you alive (in the best most fulfilling way possible)

craziest head game in the entire op universe

he eats you out before going to sleep a lot. ‘helps him sleep better’ he claims

but he also wants to eat you out when he wakes up

he’s still groggy and tired and not really awake at all so he asks you to let him burry his face in your sweet warm cunt so he can ‘have a good day’ and also because it ‘helps him become more awake’

sure..

maybe you really do help him that way.. or maybe they’re mostly cheap excuses

and usually him being pussydrunk on eating you out leads to him wanting to burry his cock inside of you

because licking and tasting you is just so arousing. it makes him so hard and needy, always rutting his hips into the mattress while his tongue’s all over you. you taste like nothing he’s ever tasted before and he can’t get enough of it. he loves smelling and tasting your pussy. it makes him desperate, whiny and feral

you are never left feeling unsatisfied with luffy as your man

. . .

[luxbub]

hii!!! i really love your stuff :)

i was wondering if i could request a lil something about how peter (parker ofc) would react to reader being self conscious about looks n being "pretty enough" for him? totally cool if it's not up your alley, i just really like the way you write him! thanks <3

peter parker’s beautiful gf

a/n ilyyy, you’re so sweet, fr kicking my feet rn. I really hope you like it even through my obv incapability of reassuring people. I’ve thought about a more spicy outcome of this blurb so if you’re up to it just tell me and i’ll post it<3

pt.2 (nsfw)

“What are you doing?”

Shit.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, half-naked in peter’s room. The only clothing you seemed to have on was your underwear and a too-big for you t-shirt with some math pun on it—probably peter’s— that reached to your mid-thigh.

“Um, nothing, i was just getting dressed.” You say softly, with a small smile gracing your face and yet that’s enough to convince peter that there’s something off.

Instead of trying to make you talk which would take hours of you going back and forth, he came up from behind you, his long fingers grabbing at your waist and gently massaging the flesh there, as he leaned his head on your shoulder. His back a little hunched from the height difference, but he seemed not to pay attention to it, giving all his attention to you.

“Do you think i’m pretty?”

Silence rung out in the room, as now you were both looking at your reflection in the mirror—more like your reflection. You were starting to get nervous, as peter kept on staring strictly at you from the mirror.

You had no make up and your hair was a mess, why wouldn’t you be nervous? You rarely let people see you without any of those things in check, so the little sleepovers you had with peter still caused anxious butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“You are so beautiful.” Peter murmured, into the skin just below your ear. He slowly started trailing kisses on your neck, every few seconds words like “my perfect girl” or “pretty girl” spewing from his lips.

Soon he had littered your whole neck and face with kisses, when he turned you around.

“You are the most beautiful girl, you know that?” Peter asked raising an eyebrow. You faces were a few inches away and his breath was fanning your face as your eyes started stinging.

“You’re even way out of my league, you have no idea how many times a day i wonder how am i so lucky? To have the most beautiful and breathtaking and funny and smart—and god, i can go on for hours, but having you in my arms, loving you is the best thing that can ever happen to me. Each time i see you, sweetheart, i can still feel the rapid beat of my heart or the way my breath hitches, just from the sight of you. Each morning that i wake up with you by my side, and you’re still asleep, i’m given the gift of just staring at you for hours till you wake up and smile with that cute smile of yours. Every day that i see you, my day is made. I could stare and stare and stare for hours and still wouldn’t be able to find ugliness on your face nor your body. Cause you’re all beautiful, baby—from the inside out.”

Stunned, once again the room was engulfed by silence, as tears were now freely falling down your face. Peter was sweet, all the time; complimenting you, touching you, comforting you.

But this was different; this was peter confessing, his love, his adorance.

Looking at your tear-stained face, peter took a hold of your cheek in one hand; wiping away the wetness, softly murmuring “you’re my beautiful girl”.

not proofread!

[enden-k]

remembering about trans!haitham headcanon, do you have any ideas you could share about it? (if that doesn't bother you) maybe about if his grandmother ever knew it, or if kaveh even knew alhaitham before the transition. maybe kaveh knows haitham's deadname? maybe kaveh actually helped haitham in his journey to affirm his gender? thinking about this makes me excited to do a fanfic about this AAAAAAAA-

ofc, i have quite a few (transhaitham just means a lot to me hhhsjdjk)

i like to imagine that his grandma knew and her love, care and support remained unchanged; all she wanted is for him to be content and comfortable, teaching him all that. she def helped him here and there; like seeing how he was bothered by his longer hair so she proposed to cut it short and seeing how his eyes lit up in his usual neutral face when he saw his reflection was prob one of her fav memories of little haitham. not only getting rid of the bothersome weight and heat of annoying hair but also seeing how he looked more boyish pleased him a lot (not that short hair = strictly masculine etc. you know what i mean there)

(dysphoria is not "required" or smth every trans person experience(d), saying this right away (and also as a note to anyone actually unaware of this) - he def didnt experience it, just felt sometimes a bit bothered by some stuff) he just simply knew who he is and wanted to find more comfort with himself by aligning his physical appearance more with his feeling and identity (by transitioning)

(idk if i explain it well in english what i want to say. also def projected there)

so, kaveh and haitham def knew each other in the early stages; when haithams grandma passed away, he attempted to cut his own hair (usually his grandma did) and it turned out cutely shaggy and sloppy (not that it bothered him much, as long as it doesnt look too awful to him) kaveh couldnt take it tho and in a quiet homoerotic charged moment took it on himself to do it right and save it. haitham already went by his name there but if someone knows of his deadname other than his grandma back then, its def only kaveh as his closest friend

years after their falling out, when they meet again in the tavern it nearly had kavehs eyes bulging out when he recognized the person seating down next to him as haitham - so much broader and bulkier than he used to be (back then he was already working out a little just to stay fit and healthy and gain more muscle, but still much slimmer in early stages of t. but now? def could snap kaveh in half and he wouldnt mind at all), his voice deep but still that same aggravatingly confident tone---

(i just love the image of kaveh always being so attracted to haitham and haitham alone, always loving him in every way, for being himself just like haitham loving him in every way, always and without a break despite their falling out)

this is turning more into me being sappy about them than transhaitham thoughts LMFAO SORRY anyway i think kaveh helped haitham a lot with things like cutting his hair properly short or picking clothes (mostly bc he liked dressing haitham since he deems his tastes as awful) or showing him how to shave when he first grew facial hair, all that kinda stuff

[mrsparrasblog]

hi srry if you don't do requests but I have to ask cuz I love everything about your writing.

Can u write a fic where the mc is strictly monogamous but 141 are SO madly in love so they fight on who gets to be with her and it's causing actual problems between them?

Ignored this if u don't want to. Anyway stay slaying✨

Hey ☀️🩷 Ofc I take requests this is my first one tho, I hope you like It, and it's like you imagined because I always have like a little movie in my head when I write a scene and with requests. I don't know if my thoughts match with yours- performance anxiety lol. Still thank you for supporting me 🩷☀️

Fighting for you

TF 141 x Reader

You always had that one plan in your life: meet a nice guy, date for 2 years, marry him with the most extravagant wedding dress someone could imagine, and after that, you get three fat babies whom you will love and dote on.

The only problem was, as a nurse on a military base, you didn't meet guys capable of this lifestyle. You hated to see all these men trying to get in your pants while they were married.

"Why are you in the med again, Johnny?" You scolded him. Of course, you found the Scotsman funny and liked his daily visits, but still, having him here all the time felt like a lost puppy when you had work to do.

"Look, Bonnie, have a mean scratch, need stitches from ya."

"Is that so, Mr. MacTavish?"

"Yes, Bonnie, look." He showed you a scar on his biceps, and you sighed. You knew he was only coming for something else; no soldier went to the medical just because of a scratch. He started to flex his biceps.

"Johnny, that's barely anything."

"But ya always fix me good, lassie." He looked at you with puppy eyes, and you sighed, disinfecting his nonexistent wound. "Such a good caretaker, lass. Need to put a ring on ya before someone else does." You blushed at the thought of marrying someone like Johnny. He was handsome, funny, and super strong, but he was a flirt, probably flirting with every other nurse. Besides, you had a date today.

"Johnny, stop flirting. I have a date today."

"Just a date, lass. It's not like you'll marry him."

You stared at him with a dead glare. "For some people, dates are important, Johnny!"

"Who is it?"

"None of your business, and now leave," you scolded him, annoyed by his noisy behavior.

-----------

"Who of you bastards broke the agreement?" Johnny started to scream at his teammates.

"What do you mean, Soap?" Kyle asked, confused.

"We agreed that no one can have her since she doesn’t want to share, so who of you tossers broke the agreement and goes on a date with her?"

"How do you even know that mate, if you didn’t break the agreement too?"

"I just needed her to take care of my injuries, Kyle."

"Bullshit, you barely got a scratch. Admit that you wanted to break off the agreement too. Admit it." Gaz barked, walking towards Soap to pick him up by his shirt.

"Enough of you, Muppets!"

"You broke the agreement, Captain, didn't ya? Telling us all about the agreement and then taking out my future wife."

"I didn't, and even if, she'd be more happy to become Mrs. Price than Mrs. MacTavish."

They were so close to fighting; everyone accused the other of taking you on that date. They remembered the first day they saw you; all of them were smitten. You were just too precious, full of love and excitement. Perfect hair, perfect body, everything about you was perfect for them. You could walk with your greasy messy bun, and they’d kneel for you, promising you’re the most beautiful woman on earth. After a while, they noticed how every one of them was smitten, how Johnny spent every minute in the infirmary, Ghost becoming your shadow, protecting you from every danger of the world without you even knowing, the Captain always treated you better than every other staff member, you had more off days, better shifts, and even better pay, and Kyle bringing you always your favorite coffee and a bunch of pastries when you overworked yourself again.

Johnny was the first one to ask the rest if they’d be open to a poly relationship. He was the most open about his sexuality, and having Simon and you was the perfect thing for him. Whether the reasons why they agreed to try to court you in this relationship, every one of them thought you only deserved the best, and that included being worshiped by four muscular men.

Unfortunately, your best friend, who noticed their goal while you still stayed in your naive bubble, popped their bubble, telling them to sod off. You weren’t made for this kind of relationship; you were jealous and liked the idea of monogamy way too much. You only wanted to have one husband. That's how the agreement started none of them will pursue you, and they will only start something with you if you approach them, no more flirting, favoritism, or looming over you.

Nonetheless, they gave a fuck about their agreement, behind closed doors still trying to court you in various different ways, but how could they not? You were perfect, and they were obsessed and way too much in love with you to let someone else have you.

"Where the fuck is Ghost?" Kyle asked, looking around for the scary man with the skull face mask.

"Fucking hell, he is her date."

"Sick bastard."

------

Soap walked into Ghost's barracks, eager to scream at his best friend. He was the first to love you, so Ghost should not have gone on a date with you without telling him. The betrayal felt immaculate, his best friend with the love of his life.

"Aye, Lieutenant, heard you're going on a date with the lassie."

"Johnny, it just happened."

"No hard feelings, LT. Where are you taking her?"

"Alfredo's."

"Oh, okay."

Simon looked confused at Johnny. "What's wrong?"

"Take her to a better place a steakhouse or a fish restaurant. Give her a real meal, not something cheap. Lassies love this fancy shit."

"Thanks, mate."

---------------

Your date with Ghost was okay. He was brooding over something, and as he insisted on ordering something for you as a surprise, despite you telling him no, he did it, wanting to be a posh bloke who knows what his lady wants. Soap said you liked this fancy shit and heavy meat and fish.

As you looked disgusted at the filet steak, trying not to be rude by saying you're a vegetarian, he lost it mentally, not with you but with his best friend, who betrayed him just for you. He'd do the same, of course, but it's still different, right?

The date went on way too cringy, Simon spent most of the time apologizing to you for the messed-up date, and you tried to reassure him that it was okay. When he brought you back home, he asked if he could stay the night, and you politely declined.

"Johnny, I'm going to rip your fucking head off."

"Aye, shit," Johnny screamed as he began to run.

"The date went shit, I guess?" Kyle asked, unfazed by all the screaming from the two men fighting. He acted as if he didn't let slip the information that she is vegetarian next to Johnny or told Price she liked roses after she told him for 20 minutes straight how they are overrated. The best part was no one even suspected him; he was calm about the situation, not trying to solve it with violence like Johnny and Simon. While the others played checkers, he played chess to get you.

"Yes, it was."

"I told you muppets, I'm the one who deserves her."

"Shut up, Price," Ghost scoffed.

"I think so too, Captain should have her. At least he treats her well," Kyle said with a boyish grin.

So the Captain asked you out on a date, and after some convincing, you agreed, making yourself ready and waiting for him in desperation. You looked great, hair curled, mascara applied, and in a dress that was classy but a bit sexy. You knew Price could be a guy for this, maybe a bit too old, but still, you could grow old with him, and maybe he would give you everything your innocent heart desires.

After waiting for an hour, you were sure he wouldn’t come. If only you had known that Ghost was faking an accident and Soap's promise to tell you about it, not to let the sweet angel wait for the Captain. Soap was already on the way to play the knight in shining armor, fully confident to finally sweep you off your feet and make you the future Mrs. MacTavish, his sweet little angel. Oh, how the boys would look to know that he got the heart of their sweetheart finally.

Too late.

"Hey, lovely, why are you sobbing? Do I need to punch someone for you?"

"It's embarrassing, Kyle."

"Tell me about it."

"Just had a bunch of weird dates. One wanted to only bed me, I guess, and the other stood me up," you sobbed, looking into Kyle's pretty face.

"Oh, love, you know that all these guys around the boys are head over heels fighting over you like wild animals."

"Never."

"They are, how couldn't they? You're perfect."

"You're a flirt, you know that."

"And you're too pretty to cry, you know that?" He winked at you, removing the tears from your beautiful eyes.

"You think so?"

"Mhm."

"Kyle," you asked him shyly, looking deep into his brown eyes.

"Yes?"

"Are you one of the boys who fight over me too?"

"Sure as hell, love!" He almost shouted, full of enthusiasm.

"You wouldn’t want what I want."

"And how do you know that?"

"I just want you, to know all, exclusive dating."

"Mhm, I'd give you that without a doubt, love. Just let me prove to you that I'm the right one for you, love." His hand slowly went to your face, caressing the soft skin that was still tinted by your mascara tears. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." And when you looked at him with your doe eyes, he lost it, slowly pulling his rough lips on your soft ones, holding your head for dear life as if you could vanish any second. He was afraid he did something wrong, maybe scared you like a deer, but you didn't shy away; you pulled him closer, letting his lips intertwine with yours and slowly opening your mouth to let his tongue explore yours. It felt like a firework in your body; every fiber burned with pure passion as he kissed you. You didn't want to stop; you needed him as deeply as he longed for you.

"Fucking Garrick, I didn't think he’d win her over," Ghost murmured behind the wall, watching you with the others in jealousy as Kyle got their girl.

"He played us like fucking fools, telling us it's okay if we win her over," Price muttered, annoyed and kinda proud at his sneaky bastard.

"I'm more of a looker than fucking Gaz," Soap said, annoyed.

As happy as you were right now, all of the boys knew the fight for your heart wouldn’t stop until there was a ring on your finger.

[anomaly-076]

Darkwick Faculty NSFW HCs

‧₊˚✿Masterlist✿˚₊‧

A/N: Inspired by a group mindstorm me and the girlies in cwc did recently ^^ I originally intended this more as 'what's in their pants?' but I wasn't sure how to title it otherwise :D

    ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Considering his child-sized body, his pubic inches are a fitting amount for his 150-160cm

Not that he has any time to put them to any special use with how busy he is

In Cornelius' opinion, if he's going to bed you, it has to be done properly

The whole wine and dine experience as well as making you breakfast the next morning

In general, I also think that if you're going to sleeping in his bed alone, you'll wake up in the morning with at least 5-7 cats surrounding you

Quickies in the area of the school are strictly out of the picture

He doesn't even wanna risk the possibility of as much as a small sound being overheard

  ⋆˚✿˖°

In the chat I made a joke about Dante needing his wheelchair for other purposes than his chronic pain

The other purpose being a massive and heavy dick

In a more realistic way, I do still believe that it's heavy, but about average length

Afterall it's his brain that makes everyone swoon so he doesn't anything else

Given the state that he's in, I also think he tries to avoid getting boners as much as he can bc it makes him lightheaded

His bloodflow is not good in general(that's why all the layers) and any change in it is enough to make him see stars in the bad way

When it comes to it - after a loong relationship with someone - he's a pleasure dom

It's rare however, that he lets you actually touch him

Everything's all about you

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Now man...

He's cocky and for a good reason

His dick's long and kinda girthy, pink towards the tip

*grins*

If you look closer on his tip, you can notice a tiny hole from when he got it pierced during his rebellious phase

And he would probably even keep it but once he worked with some anomaly that had magnetism powers

I'll let you imagine how that went without saying anything more

Anyways...

This fucker's a teasing dom by default

But if you tie him up to something, he'll be the whiniest bitch you've heard

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Assuming that Moby's kind even has a dick ofc

We all talk about Hyde being Gojo but this man right here is literally Koro-sensei minus the blowing-up-the-moon situation

So I'd say his dick is another tentacle, but like... different?

Okay, now first of all

This man is clearly a virgin

I mean... It's not like he can leave the school grounds to get laid

Instead he reads stuff online on his off time

And funnily enough, he's not that much into tentacle stuff

He prefers two humans together

Oh and going back to him being a virgin... He gets so squirmy (pun not intended) when you as much as broach the subject or even go as far as playfully stroking one of his arm tentacles

And... I think I'll just leave this scene from Assassination Classroom here :D

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Very clean shaven, sterile just like the rest of him

Very pretty dick too ^^

Might as well hang up his dick pic in a frame on your wall for inspiration/motivation

Gentle dom

If you can even call it domming

Kinks aren't really his thing

Unless... You dress up as a sexy nurse for him

He'll laugh at first, but then after a round or two, he'll realise that he's into it

Like a lot

It is rare for him to have some off time, but he doesn't have problem with a quickie as long as it's in a safe distance from everyone and you're able to clean up real fast

His favorite is when he's doing some paperwork and you crawl under the desk to give him a relaxing "massage"

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Bonus! ^^

🗑️Elias AKA The Janitor🧹

Dirty, musty, barely clean, unshaven

He either doesn't wear underwear or he does, but for a month or more straight

Makeshifts his own fleshlights from his cleaning equipment

Don't tell anyone, but that did go bad a few times

Thankfully Professor Nicholas is kind enough to keep those times off the record

His favorite porn category are those with terrible acting from the 80's

He even has one website with them bookmarked

(And it's definitely not bc Darkwick has all the websites with good ones blocked :D)

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Hii~ I'll say firstly I'm keeping things strictly speculative and I'm NOT diagnosing anyone since I'm not a doctor.

I've noticed this for so long and just wanted to out this in the world asgdjdjfkf but khaotung gives me MAJOR adult with undiagnosed adhd vibes. The messy car (bottles in the front seat?!), always messy room, extremely creative hobbies and passions (song writing/ composing/singing/ acting), impulsive purchases !!!, frequently getting lost even with maps, engineering major but cant math, has a hard time rmring past events even though he's in the same location (timeblindness). I have ADHD too and I can see such a striking resemblance in me and him it’s crazy. (Ofc everybody presents with stuff like this but when it's excessive that's when you know)

I've watched and rewatched interviews and content enough to see how he tends to be a little spacey and needs to ask things twice to make sense. (People with ADHD struggle usually with too many thoughts, attention going everywhere instead of just the task at hand) And oh when I saw that gifset where he's like he asks first's help to organise his tasks for him my heart just died cz yes!!! (That's troubles with sequencing and work ordering that we folks struggle with and there's his bestie just calmly helping him out oh it made me heart hurt sm but anyway-)

He's my little aloof baby girl with 26739 facial expressions cz he cannot for the life of him calm tf down. He's so reactive and expressive and in the moment, yet he falls over his words (not all the time, yes, but A LOT). My boy is doing his fckin best and has grown so so much and I adore him for that.

His sleep habits??? Classic adhd. Can't fall asleep cz his brain wouldn't stfu. (He said that himself in one radio interview)

His shopping addiction is just him boosting his dopamine every chance he gets. And I get him. So much.

Somewhere he also talked about how he got burnt out and couldn't get out of bed and I just. I just wanted to hug this boy bcz- oh. Oh it all makes sense. (ADHD folks are notorious for burning out cz they already run on little to no fuel. They have to work extra hard for things others do without effort and that gets so goddamn hard)

Manager can’t reach him. Hyper aware of his surroundings (hence attuned and caring to everyone around him). He frequently gets distracted by fans screaming while he's talking (cz of the external stimulus) - and first has spoken on his behalf to not misunderstand him 🥹 (Again bcz ADHD makes your attention go everywhere and you can't regulate that shit)

But why am I even going on about this? There's plenty of people out there who don't have/require a diagnosis bcz they're doing just fine.

YES. YES.

This makes me all the more emotional bcz yes, people, community, friends, family when all of them pick up on your lost pieces life just gets so much bearable.

First is that person for Khaotung 100%.

He literally called First his second manager, he asks First to organise his work for him, answer for him. He looks for him everywhere because he needs him like genuinely, genuinely needs him to be there. (Like that one time he won't let him go off stage bcz he was taking pictures and didn’t want to be alone aahdhajsk)

Like we call First as the one who clings to Khaotung, let's be honest the whole company says it. But when I see Khaotung with First it's like he turns towards him like he's the sun. Pre-FK, in interviews he used to be so shy and struggle at articulating things, but with First taking the reigns he got the space to become better at his own pace and that's what I love about them sm :(

Okay I'm done. I'm just saying he might (again, keyword MIGHT) have ADHD. It's a whole spectrum and having friends around who aren’t judgemental and willing to share the load for you makes life easier and bearable and First is that person for him which just makes me admire and love this pairing even more aaagsfhjdk :((((

So, finally, what do you think about this? Sorry if this is in any way unsettling you don't have to answer it I just wanted to get it out haha

Wow anon, this is certainly a long post😅. You must have thought about it hard.

I have no training to diagnose ADHD. However, I'm glad you identify with Khaotung and sees yourself in him.

That's why most of us love the boys, yeah? In some ways or another, they are relatable and we connect with them. (On top of their kind, sweet nature, amazing acting skills plus beautiful faces of course!!!🥰🥰🥰)

Either way, some of the habits you listed above can easily be considered annoying to a lot of people. Clearly, First just finds everything Khaotung does adorable (but can you blame him? 🥺🥺🥺…look at this pookie!)

They balance each other superbly well. Yin and Yang if you want to call it ☯️

So, I agree with you when you say First is the person for Khaotung (just as Khaotung is for First)

(Khaotung towards First during an interview) ☝️

And you are absolutely right when you say that it's very easy (from the outside) to see First appears to be the "clingier" of the 2, but I suspect privately, Khaotung is just as sticky (he is just not as open about it like First, and I'll be addressing this on a different ask I got).

There is a quote by Walt Whitman (American poet) - "Keep your face towards the sunshine, and shadows will fall behind you."

And so, your statement of Khaotung looking at First like he is the sun, oh yes... he does it all the time!! (be it in official photoshoot, concerts or events)

[hxltic]

Im not sure how to request cause this is like my first time doing it but would u write anything w iwazumis timeskip? like how hes an athletic trainer.. YK DO UR MAGIC idek how to request also x reader if thats ok. THANK U

Hey ofc!! You can be as vulgar and straightforward as you want, this is a safe space😘 (idk if you wanted nsfw or not so if not I’m sorry! I just made it suggestive because I was unsure :P)

The ass crack of dawn peeks through your window, enough to have your body twisting and turning until you’re inevitably forced awake.

Of course you drag yourself to the bathroom and check yourself out a bit, admiring how your new waist training is going and your puffy lips of the morning before brushing your teeth to start the day. Some argue you’re a morning person, but you aren’t. And you feel no kind of guilt admitting that.

You only get up because you have to—to remain consistent, especially with allowing yourself to grow not only physically, but emotionally, finally feeling free from the weights of stress by exercising and feeling good about your figure.

Also, the routine is great for you. It makes you feel productive in the morning, so now when you reflect before, there was this emptiness that came with sitting at home with the same three things you have to do on repeat.

And then of course, the motivation of going to the gym for a man you’ve been seeing around recently. He recognizes you now, probably casually assuming the relationship is nothing more than a mutual gym buddy.

And it’s likewise; you wouldn’t call it a crush. The both of you are grown, just two adults with the same hobby even though you are relatively newer to the activity.

So you pack up your bag and tip your head back for a swig of the protein smoothie you prepared and head out the door.

The gym doesn’t smell anything like how you imagined it would when you first cluelessly walked in. It actually smells clean (mainly from the overwhelming scent of chlorine in the pool water), and it wasn’t super busy around this time. If there were people, they definitely weren’t teenagers coming for their afternoon rounds. The receptionist waves back at you as you pass.

Today was legs. You recognize how far you’ve come, because initially, no day was your favorite, each as long and tortuous as the last. But this has got to be what it means to become accustomed to the pain. Does that make all gym-goers masochists?

If so, Iwaizumi has got to be the worst, because the only other person insane enough—that even remotely looks like he does anything other than train—to be here before you, is him.

“Morning,” you chime. His headphones are off, so the switch that usually tells you when people don’t wish to be spoken to doesn’t go off.

To your delight, he responds with just as much pleasure without turning around, currently sitting on the Lax machine and tugging the resistant handles. “Good morning,” he grunts.

He eventually does, even as he attempts to convince himself to stay focused on his set, but even the discipline he’s built over the years couldn’t prevent him from catching a glimpse of you. You were sitting your stuff down nearby, relocating to the floor to stretch.

He’s been watching you. Not in a creepy way, he justifies, but it becomes a habit when you’re working how he does.

Your progress is a miracle. He could count on one hand the amount of people that come in fresh and immediately get to working, just to return consistently, and cycle through this process until they reach their desired figure and continue after that. You, however, stepped in with a determination on your face he’d never seen before.

You hadn’t requested a trainer, and by what he sees, didn’t need one either. He remembers when you came in talking about how badly you wanted to rid of your little tummy, as well as slim down your plush thighs, pleading someone to teach you how. Of course he knew how; he keeps his work strictly professional with the women who come in asking for the same thing.

He’d always found the little pudge attractive, but it’s your body. It’s just somehow, he wasn’t on the verge of telling them how good it looks or the pure desire he has to press on the fat while his head is between their thighs like he was you. Someone must have heard his prayers though, because instead of slimming your legs down, you became comfortable with the idea of them getting stronger, ultimately making them slightly thicker.

The man was close to finishing the set, but that one glimpse of you had him do five extra for good measure since he lost count. How could he focus?

As you split your legs and tilt to one side, you watch him not too far. The black compression shirt he wears hugs his carved body perfectly, only cementing this fact as his back and arm muscles flex with every controlled pull of the bar. Everything about him was sharp from his shape to the hair on his head.

It was no doubt he was attractive, and since having graduated high school, attention wasn’t just found anywhere. Maybe some small talk will help?

“What are you doing today?” He hears you call. He almost flinches with what he thinks you’re asking until you add, “Workouts I mean.”

Iwaizumi chuckles at your mishap, more for himself, but it flushes your cheeks nonetheless. It’s a genuine, gentle sound. “Arms. Tomorrow is core,” he says coolly.

“I hate arms. I should probably do them more often, but lifting is only fun if you’re already strong.”

“I see where you’re coming from,” he pulls off the machine, rotating himself on the seat to face you. You’re in a lunge now, oversized t-shirt covering half of the skin tight shorts desperately trying to contain the glutes you’ve grown. He makes sure to force his emerald green eyes to yours. “You won’t get stronger if you don’t give it a try.”

You scoff, “You sound like my old therapist.”

The humor you two shared was nothing more than the surface level awkward kind so this unexpected comment from you had him laughing. Actually laughing. “And you sound like an old friend of mine.”

Smiling at this, you get one more good stretch in and come to your feet. You stand proudly with your hands on your hips, staring at him.

He blinks around happily, “What?”

“You said to give it a try right? Show me the way."

—•—

“I can’t do this,” you say, already struggling just with the form part of the exercise. You switched positions with him since it was closest machine. “How do I pull it if I can’t move my back?”

“Well, that’s the workout part,” he walks around the seat while inspecting you, waiting for you to figure it out with his advice. “Sit up completely straight and slightly lean back. Stay in that position the entire time, but try to pull the bar down to you instead of pulling yourself up to it.”

You try to replicate what you saw him doing. By this point, you had gotten majority of the positioning right, even keeping your back straight, but the damned bar wouldn’t move an inch. “Are you sure the setting on this thing is right?”

“Oh shit—” He pauses at this, then renders that you’re completely right. You’re trying to pull his weight.

As he shuffles over to the side of the machine to adjust it, you watch him with a smug expression and your arms crossed. I’m not just that weak, I knew it, it reads.

Moments later he comes back around, “That’s my bad, try it now.”

And you’re finally able to do it, but your form falters when you successfully pull the bar to your chest. He knows you know, you’re a smart girl, so he gives you a few more tries to correct it. “I feel like I’m about to fall,” you say finally.

“Here, that means you’re leaning too far.” He comes and presses a hand to your back, pushing you forward. “Don’t think about it too much. I’ll hold you right here for a few until you can support yourself.”

He was already hovering beside you, lurking and seeping into all your senses, making the air warmer than it usually is in the gym. With his palm on your back too, you’re starting to think this little affection of yours is getting out of hand. You don’t even look to see how much it has helped.

Somehow, you do eventually get through the sets, but you hadn’t realized that during that time he would actually train you. It was progressive overload, and he brought the weight up to what he thought you could handle each time. You were on the last few.

“C’mon, you got it.”

“I don’t,” you grunt while somewhat laughing, still pulling it to your chest. His voice is more declarative now. You deem it as his professional tone. You also wonder which voice he tends to use in—

“You do. It’s one more—make it your best.”

And you do just that, slumping on the seat in victory.

“Good girl,” he praises, clapping, and he changes the weight on the machine to just five before twisting around and holding a hand out. He helps you up when you take it, but you’re really trying to figure out if what he said was professional if it made you clench your thighs.

“Ready for the next?” His lips stretch into a smile, already predicting your answer.

You bend and get your smoothie, popping the top and drinking, “There’s a next? What’s next?”

“Pull ups of course.”

Truthfully, doing pull ups right after lax for someone who doesn’t really train arms is a death wish. It’s just this once though, and your arms will already be sore, so he might as well make the most of it while the adrenaline is there.

“Oh dear God,” you sigh.

“I’ll do them with you,” he reassures, chuckling.

—•—

And he stands on his word, because after walking over to the bar, he clips the belt attached to weight around his hips. The bar was relatively high, even he can admit, so he isn’t surprised when you ask how the hell you’re supposed to get up there.

And you weren’t even necessarily short, it’s just the bar was made for six-feet-and-over men and athletes. So people like you were left out, hence the stacked boxes meant for help beside it.

Iwaizumi makes sure the belt is secure around himself before walking over to you, taking a stance directly behind.

He commands, “Arms up, sweetheart.” And it must be the proximity, because you do just that without a fight. The pet name contributed too, you’re sure.

But when he lifts you, he first drags his hands from your shoulder blades, to your ribs, and into the small of the your back. So smooth you’re questioning if he did it on purpose.

He couldn’t help it. Not when he’s hovering behind you, almost a foot taller. With one small nudge of his hips forward, he’d rest comfortably right between your ass, smelling the coconut shampoo of your hair. Though instead of being a pervert, he’d stick to the nicknames and the gentle touches until you get the damn hint.

Sometime later he’s effortlessly hauling himself up, counting one by one with you. He says you’ll only do 3 sets of ten as if it was easy. Either way, it was burning by the ninth.

—•—

Finally you’re done. The only reason your arms aren’t completely limp is your heightened senses from being around the attractive man next to you. He literally regulates your blood flow.

And you for damn sure regulate his.

“Okay, now you have to do my workouts,” you perk up.

He unclips the belt, turning to face you, amused. “I have to do your workouts?”

Your arms come to a cross offensively. “What does that mean? Yes. I did your arm day, now you have to do my leg day.”

He throws his hands in the air defensively, the curl of his lips threatening to break his character, “I’m just saying it won’t be the sa—”

“This way!”

—•—

This was a horrible idea.

He’s situated on the angled leg press machine at a diagonal, now gripping onto the handle bars. The amount of circular plates you usually have on it are already there. You’re standing beside him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to add weight? I usually go more than this,” he challenges.

“Fuck you— no.”

His laughter intensifies at your irritation. Then he brings his legs down slow and controlled, somehow still managing to appear like he could do it with his fucking finger if he tried. You’re not surprised, he’s extremely fit; though you had already catered to this by changing the weight to whatever your highest weight was.

He guffaws again at your blank expression. “Fine. How much more do you need?” You sigh.

He appears to think for a moment. Instead of calculating the math like he should be, he’s actually doing nothing of the sort. “Get up there.”

He bends his legs as if confirming he’s dead serious by allowing you to actually step foot on the back of the plate. You stand there still, having not even realized what he’s asking you to do. “What?”

“Get your sweet ass up there and that should be about what my usual weight is.” He shoots a nonchalant glance to the machine. “You won’t fall, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

After a few moments, with an incredulous look painted on your face, you slowly step to the lowered machine, and push yourself up and on to the back, past the weighted plates, to sit not-very-comfortably in the middle. “Uhm…”

“Perfect.”

This time, it didn’t look as easy, but he very much did an entire press to extend his legs out. You watch in wonder over the plate as he carried your weight and plus some just in his legs.

It was his arm day, and you didn’t get to fully watch him do the pull ups since the focus was keeping yourself on the bar. But you got a glimpse when he finished, biceps flexing and pulling extra weight then too. He was strong. You wonder if he puts it to use with his partner?

With his partner. What if he does have a partner? You shake your head, no, he wouldn’t have asked you to do what you’re doing if he did.

His grunts were a nice addition too.

Counting for him aloud, and not completely sure if you didn’t skip a number even though you’re only going to ten, you helped him through the set. It had been a while since there was someone to cheer him on. He was always doing the cheering.

“Okay okay,” you wait for him to finish the set, then get off. It feels so good to have your feet on the ground, sure that you won’t be yelled at by the gym staff to remove yourself from the equipment. “You’ve proved yourself, muscleman.”

“Great, I’ll take you out Saturday then?” He asks, pressing up the remaining weight easy and locking up the machine so he can leave it.

A flush runs across your cheeks, driving you to pick up your drink and sip to hide it. “You don’t know me. What if I have a husband and kids at home?”

You were projecting, you know that. It was fresh on your mind since you slightly wanted to ask him the same question. He stalks over to you.

“I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he observes, nodding to your right hand, making you look as if you didn’t know it was bare. He only stops walking until you’re face to face, way too close to just be a professional interaction. It only worsens when his thumb and index finger pinches your chin, his eyes sending flames through yours. “And let’s both be honest— if there was someone waiting for you at home, you wouldn’t be here with me.”

Let alone at the gym at all, he wanted to add. Whatever pussy was letting you come here to workout instead of telling you how good it feels to have your thick thighs ricocheting off his skin or how good your stretch marks look after being swollen with a child for nine months, doesn’t deserve you anyway.

He doesn’t kiss you, but he swipes your lips with his finger and retreats. The heat doesn’t dissipate.

“Saturday at 7?” You speak softly. So softly and breathless you aren’t even sure if he heard it as he walks away.

“My number’s in your bag, beautiful,” he winks, and then he’s turning the corner, back to where you met earlier in the morning.

smash

If you wanted like actual nsfw, (whoever sent the ask) just send in another into my inbox or just dm me asking!! LMAO

You get unlimited access!!

©️hxltic

[sillyyuserr]

okay so idk if this is a good or likely thought and i legit got into terukane a few days ago so i might not have a super good grasp in their dynamic, but i started brainstorming and got this idea that some of the way teru treats akane (bothering akane by being all authoritative, controlling, manipulative, even w a playful demeanor, that kinda stuff) is bc that’s his best and safest attempt at trying to connect w him.

akane isn’t only wrapped up in the supernatural—which is meant to be teru’s sworn enemy—but he also sees past the careful demeanor teru has built around himself, treating him like a human being, and will even challenge him. and that’s both absolutely terrifying and relieving for someone like teru.

ngl, i might be overthinking it, but the way teru treats akane reminds me of the way some emotionally repressed ppl (esp kids/teenagers) treat their crush 💀

- as i stated before, using certain manipulative & controlling behaviors in order to connect, but also more specifically:

- purposefully getting a rise out of him just to see his reactions bc they’re endearing & bc he doesn’t rly know how else to get his attention w/o feeling too vulnerable or afraid

- enjoys akane’s presence without making himself vulnerable so he can disguise his own genuine affection and (possibly romantic) interest as just “messing w akane for fun” or smth. that way, he stays in control of himself, akane, the entire situation itself, his image, etc.

- seems almost straight-up fixated on akane but like i said, disguises it by pretending it’s less than that through little jabs and tests

- seems jealous of/bothered by akane’s crush on aoi in multiple scenes, but also doesn’t seem to have a crush on aoi, either… kinda suspicious 😭

- and imo one of the biggest things… when aoi gets trapped and seemingly guilty explains to akane that he was aware that would happen, he looks like he 1) tries to stop akane and/or help him up my grabbing his wrist, and when that doesn’t work, 2) shoves him into the ground or wtv to stop him for good. “for his own good”— that seems to be teru’s biggest motivator for the ppl he loves: manipulation or smth similar for the sake of their safety, no matter what. not to mention, teru just looks kinda sad, empty and guilty the whole time???

- and don’t even get me started on that vague comment abt liking “akane-san” w/o specifying, which makes it feel purposefully ambiguous

ofc none of this has to mean anything at all canonically but i’m super into complex and ambiguous characters who try to use control and manipulation as connection and affection + i swear you’ve dragged me into this ship and now i’m stuck thinking abt one-sided terukane lmao /pos

OMG I LOVED THIS

I do have to correct you on something tho: teru (in the original world) strictly refers to aoi (girl) by her surname, he does not call her akane-chan, he calls her ‘akane-san’, which is not purposefully ambiguous, but rather a respect thing. Off the bat he is established as a very respectful guy, so this makes sense for him to do.

You’ve also opened my eyes, when i first read this i had like an epiphany because i had never thought about it that way. All this thinking and it never once crossed my mind. If you look back on everything teru’s done with this context in your head, it seems to fit PERFECTLY. He DOES seem to be doing all of it, in a way, to connect. Either they’re in love, or AidaIro are terrible writers.

i think his weird thing with aoi, constantly teasing her n stuff, joking about ‘i’ll steal ur girl’ typeshit with akane is out of interest. Not interest in aoi, but interest in their relationship. To me, teru’s always been the observant type. That much was made obvious.

i mean look dude idk what to tell u

(context is him looking down at aoi and akane holding hands)

I think the reason he really tries to insert himself into their relationship and does all that ‘help me make this🥺🍬’ at the convenience store with aoi, is because he wants to have that for himself. I mean the loom in his eyes just screams yearning. Whether it’s the relationship aoi has with akane is what he wants, or to be in her place in that relationship, we don’t know, but what we DO know, is there’s still hope xx

(sorry i didn’t touch on more aspects of your writing, i don’t think i even could, what a perfect way to say things)

[searchingforgravity]

Hi saw your request open and immediately thought of this request! Ok so hear me out.. elvis is readers first love and would constantly be with him when they were younger and like they would do anything for him.. but reader needed to move abroad for time being and when she came back elvis was in a relationship with priscilla but priscilla is like using elvis for fame(no hate to her) and elvis knew but kept here around.. so like they saw each other at a party and reader didn't know that elvis already have a girlfriend until priscilla introduced herself.. and ofc reader was heartbroken. So alittle background when reader left abroad to study elvis actually felt very lonely because he didn't realize the reader is the one that was there for him... i want elvis to be jealous of someone because after a party he met reader again but this time she's with someone (could reader's bestfriend abroad) you can write the ending! I hope it could be a happy ending 💋

Sorry for the delay on this! Crazy busy at the moment, but here we go. I hope you enjoy it! Also I'll add it to the requests post, but I don't really enjoy writing stories with Priscilla in it, so I just changed the name of the girlfriend, I hope that's okay! <3

Word Count: 5232

Four years ago...

"You can't go, (y/n). You can't leave me. I need you," Elvis mumbles as you lie in bed with him, tears threatening to leave his eyes.

He never cries.

It's dark, but the moon shines through the window, illuminating his face, a tortured expression painting it.

"Elvis, It's for school. I don't want to leave you, but-"

"School's more important," he interrupts, that boyish snark presenting itself when he doesn't get what he wants.

"No, it's not. But it is also important to me. Elvis. I love you," you whisper, not trusting your voice to be any louder.

He pauses for a long moment, and you can't read his face. This only happens when he's very upset. He pulls himself away from you. You can't stand it when he does this, you always fear that you'll lose him. Gently, you reach your hand out for him. He doesn't pull away.

That's when you realize just how sad you are. Sad that you have to leave someone you love so much. Someone you would do anything in the world for. Burying your face in his chest, you wrap your arms around his waist, silent tears forming in your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to leave you."

You're crying now, and not quietly. You allow yourself to let go of being strong. You don't know the next time you will ever see Elvis, and that terrifies you. You feel his hands come to thread through your hair, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

"I just- baby I don't know how to live without you," he mumbles, a hiccup in his voice as he lets the tears spill from his eyes.

---

Today

You're in Los Angeles. It's crazy for you to even think of, you have been so lucky. You got job working right out of college abroad, and a good paying one at that. Coming back from London, you reflect on your journey, and it has been an amazing experience. You made new friends, one of which is coming with you to a party right this moment. John. He has been a big support, you met him when you were taking classes.

You aren't sure if he has feelings for you or not, and you honestly haven't given it any thought. You have been strictly friends and he's never made a pass at you. You've tried going on a few dates with boys you met at University since Elvis, but no one gave you that same safe, warm feeling of being totally in love. You haven't been with anyone since him. You don't want to be.

"Hey, I heard there's going to be some pretty famous people at this party. I hope I get to meet Katherine Hepburn," John voices from beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You look over at him and he has a dreamy look in his eye. You think back to Elvis. You know he comes to LA sometimes, maybe he'll be there?

No. Wishful thinking. You did call Graceland when you got to LA though, and he wasn't home. But what are the odds he'll be at this party?

---

Stepping through the doors, the house is packed full of people. The party is buzzing with chatter and soft music. It's a dream.

"John, this is amazing!" you exclaim, grateful that he knows someone in the entertainment industry to even get the two of you an invite.

"Isn't it? I just can't believe the lives of these people. It all looks so glamorous. Hey, I'm going to get a drink, do you want one?"

You confirm that you would like one and he sweeps through the crowd to find the bar.

You look around the house and it is absolutely ginormous. And glamorous; you're glad you've decided to dress up more than usual for the event. There are silvers and golds everywhere, big statement pieces on the walls of naked men and ladies, like the statues in Greece.

Looking around the room, you find a place to sit, resting for a moment while you wait for John's return. You look around at all the beautiful people, witnessing laughter and conversations, grateful you even have the opportunity to be here. After a few moments of admiring your surroundings, you hear someone calling your name. Looking in the direction of the voice, you expect to see John, but that's not who it is at all.

Everything stops.

Elvis.

"Elvis?" you call, barely believing your eyes.

He looks gorgeous, sporting a white button up shirt, the top few buttons undone revealing his slight chest hair with black slacks that hug his hips perfectly. It couldn't be.

You stand up, and suddenly you're running to him. You don't notice the looks from people around you as you fall into his arms. He sighs audibly as he pulls you close. This. This is the feeling you've been searching for ever since you left him. One that you haven't felt without him with you.

Tears threaten to surface in your eyes before you push the emotion down. You go to pull away and look at him before his grip around you tightens.

"You left me for four Goddamn years, I'm not lettin' you go yet."

You laugh and try to blink away the water coming to your eyes, your grip tightening on him as well. Kissing you on the cheek, he pulls away, looking at you. Your hands come to his face as you look in his eyes, suddenly overcome with a want. You want to feel his lips on yours again. Forgetting you're in a room full of people, you start leaning forward...

Before he stops you.

"(Y/N), don't."

You stop. You're hands fall from his face. Oh. It's been four years. You can't pretend that things didn't change. You see a sadness in his eyes as he leans forward.

"I just- I can't. Not here," he mumbles, his hand coming to rub your arm softly.

"Hello, honey! I've been looking everywhere for you," a voice calls from beside the two of you.

Pulling away from you, Elvis turns to the voice, a pained smile painting his face.

"(Y/N) this is my girlfriend, Betty. Betty, (Y/N)," he mumbles, as he avoids your eye.

Shock runs through you, turning your blood cold. Girlfriend? You look to Betty and she's absolutely gorgeous. She looks like a movie star.

"Oh yes, Elvis' friend from childhood," she comments with a tinge of condescension.

Friend? You look back to Elvis and his cheeks are flushed. Had he really not told her that the two of you were together?

"Yes, his friend," you force a smile as your stomach drops.

"Well, it was nice to see you Elvis. I'm sure you have other people to see-" You start before he cuts you off.

"Well you can come with me-us, honey. We're just walking around."

He looks to you again, hopeful you might say yes.

"No, really it's okay. Have a great night guys."

Without another word, you turn on your heels as you desperately look for John.

---

You're crying. And drunk. John sits beside you, his hand gently rubbing your back in attempted comfort. The two of you had found a deserted spot outside in the yard.

"Here, have some more water, (y/n)."

You listen as you take a few big gulps of the water, handing it back to him.

"I know I shouldn't be surprised. It's been four years, but- He didn't even tell her we dated."

You are gutted. You can't believe it. You just want to go home.

"Why don't I go and get you some more water and then we can leave, okay?" he suggests softly.

You nod in agreement and he gets up, leaving you momentarily. Being alone, you are able to relax more as you feel the night breeze on your face. You sigh as you look up as the sky. How can you feel so destroyed? Like your whole world has come undone?

"Betty, I-I'll see ya at the hotel alright? Now please just-" you hear Elvis from a short distance away before Betty interrupts him.

"Fine, Elvis," she snips before you hear a cab door slam shut.

Your back is turned to the commotion, and you try not to turn around as you continue glancing at the sky, your heart racing.

You hear the car drive away. There's a pause. Then...

"(Y/N)?"

Your heart flutters at the voice. Your hands come to your face as you try your best to wipe away your tears. Then you hear crunching on the gravel as Elvis makes his way over to you. When he comes around and looks down at you, he sees the tears in your eyes.

"Are you alright?"

You look away from him.

"You told her I was just your friend. How could you say that, Elvis? I loved you," the words spill out of you along with more tears.

He kneels down in front of you, taking your face in his hands. You smell the alcohol on his breath as well. You don't have the strength to pull away.

"I didn't I swear. She knows what you are to me, baby. She's just...I don't love her (y/n). We just mess around sometimes. It's good for the public to see me have a girlfriend, and it helps her out. I don't mind doin' it," he rambles, his words coming out rushed like he's trying to convince you.

You don't want to hear this. You don't want to hear how Elvis is sleeping with someone else.

"Elvis, don't tell me that," you scold him, your face contorting at his confession.

He's about to say something else when you hear someone approaching.

"Hey, (y/n) I got you some-" You hear John approach, both you and Elvis turning to look.

Elvis gets up from the ground, a little drunkenly as he puts out his hand to shake John's. John takes it cautiously as he glances at you.

"Hi- uh (y/n) is everything alright here?"

You dismiss his concern with a nod before you see Elvis' eyes narrow, sizing John up.

"Now what is that supposed ta mean? You think I'm some kinda threat?" Elvis questions, suspicion in his voice

You are about to try and diffuse the situation when Elvis speaks up again after looking between the two of you.

"Oh, you know what, I think I see it now. Here I am asking your forgiveness when you didn't tell me you been with someone all along. You're out here making me look like a damned fool."

"Elvis, are you joking? That's not-" You start before John interrupts you.

"And I make her happy, Elvis, so let's just leave it at that. You don't know the amount of times I've had to hold her while she's cried because of you. Why don't you just let her be happy?"

You are completely gobsmacked as your eyes whip to John. His face is flushed as he stares at Elvis, but his look is unwavering. Before you know what is happening Elvis is walking away from you. No. You can't lose him again. You turn to John.

"John, why the hell would you say that?! We've never been together!" you yell, completely enraged.

"But we could be, (y/n). You can let yourself be happy."

You scoff as you turn away from him, running to catch up with Elvis. Elvis. He's the only man that you can imagine your life with.

"Elvis, stop, please," you plead, finally catching up with his quick stride.

"Save it. I-I been makin' a fool of myself the whole night thinkin' we still had what we used to. It's still there for me, but I make you so miserable your off cryin' on John's shoulder. How long after you left me did you get with him anyway?"

He doesn't stop his stride and you don't think he's even sure where he's going.

"Elvis, would you just stop! Stop, okay?!" you yell, managing to step in front of him, forcing him to stop walking.

You don't care how angry he is, you're just as angry. Reaching up, you grab his face with both hands, hard, forcing him to look at you.

"There is nothing between John and I, Nothing! Whether he wants something more or not, I don't care. I've only ever had a place in my heart for you. Elvis, I cried because I couldn't be with you. I haven't even let another man touch me."

At this he stops, gazing down at you, his eyes blazing.

"You're lyin'," he mutters, not believing your words.

"I'm not."

His face changes as he brings his thumb to swipe over your bottom lip. A desire sweeping through him.

"Baby, I've missed you so much," he whispers, a truth in his voice.

Pulling him down to you, you connect your lips to his, making him sigh as his hands come to your waist, then your thighs. He doesn't have to instruct you on what to do next as you jump, his hands catching you as your legs wrap around his waist. Luckily the two of you had made your way over to where the taxis are. Walking you over to one, he sets you down, opening the door before letting you get in.

---

Once the two of you arrive at your apartment, making your way up the stairway to your door, his hands are on your hips again as you fumble to find your keys.

"Look at you, havin' your own place and all. You did good for yourself, baby, you didn't need me none," he murmurs as his hands travel up your body, needing to feel every inch of you.

His lips come to suckle on your neck, making you sigh as you lean into him. You shake your head as you finally get your key in the door, desire coursing through you as his hands gently cup your chest pulling you that much closer. The statement couldn't be further from the truth. Sometimes it's like you couldn't breathe, you missed him so much.

Pushing the door open, you pull him inside, locking the door behind him. When his eyes adjust to the new surroundings, he look around, a pleased look on his face.

"Sweetheart, this is such a nice little place you got here," he remarks, his eyes scanning the area.

It's a nice apartment, not too big and not too small. You fell in love with it when you took a tour of the place. It felt like home. It's the only place that made you feel close to the way you felt with Elvis. Walking over to him, you stand on your toes, reaching around his shoulders. You need to feel him again.

He smiles as he leans down, molding his lips with yours, groaning at the sensation you've only ever been able to bring him.

"Baby, you can't leave me again," he whispers as he hovers his lips over yours. "My heart can't take it."

You shake your head, agreeing with him.

"I won't."

Hearing this, he presses his lips to yours with more urgency, his hands moving to cup your face as you lean into him. A whine slips from your throat as his tongue makes his way into your mouth, gently exploring you like it's the first time her ever has.

Melting into the kiss as you take the opportunity to explore his mouth as well, reveling in the warmth of him as your tongues swirl together in a dance. You taste the lingering alcohol from the party. He groans softly. For the second time that night, he takes your thighs in his hands, causing you to jump around his waist.

"Where's your bedroom, baby?" he groans, his voice dropping into a gravely vibrato that you haven't heard for so long.

It makes your heart race.

"The first door on the right," you barely get out before he's making his way in that direction, his hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing gently.

Your face falls to his neck as you groan at his touch, realizing just how long you've gone without it.

"My girl is so touch starved, ain't she? Hasn't had any lovin' since she left. You been so good waitin' for me," he mumbles as he reaches the bed, bending over to lay you down before climbing over top of you.

Elvis has always been vocal in bed, but he's different from when you were with him last. He's more confident, sure of himself when he speaks. And it's unbelievably sexy.

"This is different," you whisper, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as you look into his darkened, hooded eyes.

He leans his head to kiss at your arm, keep eye contact with you.

"I may not have been as good as you since you left," he admits, a blush creeping to his cheeks at the confession.

You assumed as much, you weren't exactly expecting Elvis to be a saint. Leaning down, he connects his lips to yours again as he lowers his hips, gently grinding himself into you. You gasp at the contact, your eyes fluttering.

"I can make it up to you though, make you feel real good. Do you want that, baby?"

Your core buzzes, the sensation traveling throughout your body.

"Yes."

He hums as his hands make their way down your body then back up again before moving behind you, finding the zipper of your dress.

"Ya look so fuckin' sexy in this dress. Couldn't believe my eyes when I saw ya. Also just couldn't believe you were actually there," he chuckles, the sound of the zipper moving down your body traveling through the room.

"You didn't look too bad either," you muse, taking the opportunity to look at his body again.

He wasn't the slightly lanky boy you fell in love with anymore. He's filled out, sturdier. Unbelievably more handsome if it's even possible. He became a man.

Sliding the straps off your arms, he slowly pulls the dress down your body, unabashedly staring at your filled out figure, a groan tumbling from his lips.

"Oh baby, you're tryna make me finish before we start," he grumbles, his mouth instantly coming to your now exposed chest.

You gasp when he gently nibbles on your right nipple, his hand coming to grasp your other breast with the same enthusiasm. He suckles and leaves love bites all around your chest like a starved man before shoving his face between them both, groaning as his hands come to hold them, swiping his thumbs over your nipples.

It feels like heaven.

You moan out as you arch up into him, craving more.

"God, I missed your tits," he mutters filthily as he suckles on your other nipple for a moment.

Your cheeks flush as his words as you sigh at his ministrations. Traveling down your body further, he takes your dress off completely, laying it on the floor before finding his way to your panties.

"Fuck, so pretty," he grumbles, his hands toying with your underwear, a red silk, his fingers softly swiping over your covered heat, feeling your wetness.

You groan as you arch up into him, your body pulsating. Leaning down, he leaves a lingering kiss on your pelvis before slipping your panties down your legs and discarding them along with the other articles of clothing.

Sitting up on his knees, he hastily pulls his shirt over and off his body. Your eyes get hazy as you admire him while he works on getting his belt off. You clench around nothing, he's beautiful. His chest flushed a soft red, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You see his chest muscles flex as he gets the belt undone, yanking his pants off and throwing them to the floor, leaving him in just his boxers.

"Scoot over, honey," he rasps, gazing at your figure as you make room for him on the bed.

You’re confused as to what he's doing before he takes your place lying on the bed, his face flushed with want.

"Come sit on my face."

You body flushes. Elvis has gone down on you before, it was one of his favorite things to do when the two of you dated, but never in this position. Looking at him now, you're not sure why you never had, his face looking needy and hungry for you is enough for you come come undone alone.

Crawling over to him, you gently make your way over top of him as his hands grasp your ass, his eager mouth open slightly as he gazes in your eyes.

"Come on, sweet heart. You know how much I love to eat your pussy," he grumbles, his hands massaging your butt as he senses your flustered state. "Don't make me beg."

You can't help the moan that leaves your throat at seeing Elvis this way, slowly lowering yourself down onto his face.

He groans loudly at finally tasting you again after years of being apart. He begins his work immediately, licking you like a man starved. You gasp as your eyes flutter closed, your hands finding their way to his head to steady yourself.

Licking a long stripe up your entrance, he puts his focus on your clit, swiping his tongue back and forth in rapid movements before flattening it, licking generously, and repeating the cycle. Your hands grip his hair tightly as your mouth falls open. He has definitely learned some things since the two of you have been together.

Sucking at your clit one last time, his mouth travels to your opening, licking at it a few times before plunging his tongue into you, his nose burrowing into your clit, swiping back and forth.

Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling as your head leans back, a suprised moan falling from your lips as he plunges his tongue into you at a steady pace.

"Fuck, Elvis, that feels-" you whine, not being able to complete the sentence as his grip tightens on your ass, his movements increasing.

Elvis hums loudly, needing this as much as you do. His dick is screaming in his boxers, begging to be inside of you. He ignores it as best as he can as he tries his hardest to make up for lost time, hearing you come undone on top of him. It's enough to make him orgasm alone.

Your thighs start clenching around his head as his relentless pace increases further. On instinct, gently start rocking your hips down to meet his actions, making him groan out, the vibrations going straight to your core

"Mhm," he mumbles, the tip of his dick leaking at your movements.

He knows your close. You make sure to keep your movements soft as to not restrict his breathing, but it's hard as you start feeling that knot in your stomach.

"Oh, God. Elvis," you whine, you body arching as he increases his pace further, trying desperately to get you there.

With a quick change in tempo on your clit, you gasp, reaching the point that sends you over the edge as you grip his hair tightly, your body going rigid as a strangled moan tumbles from your lips, clenching around his eager tongue.

He hums in approval as he works you through it, slowing down his movements until they come to a stop, leaving you breathless. As you remove yourself from his face with shaky legs, he leaves kisses on each side of your thighs as you pull away, his eyes opening again to gaze as you, filled with hunger.

"God, I could just eat you forever," he gasps, finally getting air in his lungs.

You blush at the state of him, hair disheveled and face soaked with your juices. His eyes are ignited and wild. It makes the fire in your core start up again.

Making your way down his body, your reach for him, gently palming his through his boxers. You groan at how hard he is, feeling a wet spot on his underwear. He groans from below you, bucking his hips up into your hand.

"Oh, baby, yes," he grunts, his head falling back against the pillows.

After palming him a few times, you grip onto the top of his boxers, pulling them down as you discard them on the floor. Your mouth waters at the sight, his dick standing proud, the tip leaking and red. Grasping onto him gently, you stroke down, pulling back his foreskin to reveal his head more. it's such a beautiful sight.

He groans from under you as you stroke his length a few times, your other hand coming to massage his balls.

"Aw shit, (y/n)," he mumbles, his eyes traveling down to watch you stroke him.

You need him. You can hardly stand it anymore, not having him inside you.

"Elvis, I need you so bad," you whimper, not being able to hold off any longer.

He groans.

"Fuckin' take me, baby."

It's all you need to hear as you move your body to hover over his, your core painstakingly close to his member. Taking his dick in your hands again, you slide it along your opening up to your clit, make the both of you sigh at the contact.

"Jesus christ," he grunts, his hands again finding your hips.

Sinking down slowly on him, he slips inside you easily. You gasp as your hands find there way to his chest, gripping onto him.

"Oh (y/n)," he groans softly, his thumbs massaging your hips and his dick settles fully inside you.

Suddenly, without warning, tears come to your eyes, then a sob escapes your throat. Your body is overcome with that feeling you've been searching for ever since you left him. It's overwhelming.

"I know, honey. I know. It's okay now," Elvis mumbles softly, understanding, as his hand comes to push back your hair to look at you.

Bringing his hand to swipe away a tear that fell down your cheek, he waits for you. He'll wait as long as you need him to. He'll do anything to not lose this feeling again.

Looking in his eyes, you see the love you always had. You don't know how you ever had the strength to leave. Slowly lifting your hips, you sink back down on him, causing him to hum softly, his hands pulling your face down to his, enveloping you in a kiss. You blush as you taste yourself on him as he slips his tongue into your mouth, softly meeting your thrusts as he bucks his hips into yours.

You whine at the pleasure of finally feeling him again, it's unlike any other time you've had him before.

"Elvis," you whimper, your forehead resting on his as your breath washes over his face.

He groans as your hips come back down on his, his dick tight and warm inside you.

"I know, baby. Fuck, I've missed you so much," he mutters, his lips coming to kiss your forehead.

No one has ever made him feel the way you do, completely devoted. He realizes at that moment that he won't ever let you leave him again. He needs you too much.

The fire in your belly builds as his hands find there way back to your breasts, kneading them softly. He groans freely as he takes in your state, lips parted and gasping, your chest rising and falling in his hands. His dick is throbbing inside you.

You whine as your need for him reignites. You head falls back as his thumbs swipe over your nipples. Raising your hips up, you come down on him faster and harder, craving more friction.

"Oh, yes, sweet heart. Good girl," He grunts, arching up into you as his thumb comes to your clit, making small and tight circles.

Your grip on his chest tightens at the new sensation as you bring your hips down on him with a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, baby, just look at you, Goddamn," Elvis marvels, his eyes taking in the sight of you on his cock.

It's almost to much.

You moan as you look at Elvis in return. His swollen lips parted and red, his eyes drooped with pleasure, his hair stuck to his sweat soaked forehead. Fuck. You suddenly get an overpowering urge to make him feel good. To see him come undone.

As you pick up the pace, bouncing on him, you roll your hips when you come down on him, making him gasp as his eyes flutter.

"Baby," he whines, his back arching as his thumb increases its speed on your clit.

You moan as you repeat the action, clenching around him.

"Aw fuck, your pussy's so tight. Made only for me," he grunts, suddenly needing more of you.

His grip tightens on your hips, helping you as he thrusts up into you. You're taken by surprise at this, your eyes fluttering at the sensation.

"Oh, Elvis, God that feels good," you moan, trying to keep up with his pace.

"I know, mama, lord you take me so well."

Trying a new movement, you sink down on him so he's fully inside and grind back and forth, causing the air to get knock out of him.

"Oohh, Fuck-yes, baby, please keep doin' that," he groans, his head falling back against the pillows, overcome with pleasure.

You whine as you rock forward with more force, his cock hitting that spot inside you that always makes you come undone. You keep that steady pace as soft grunts and groans erupt from him, his hands holding your hips with a bruising force.

Traveling your hands up your body, you grip your chest as your thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, before pinching at them, causing you to clench around him.

"Oh, fuck," he moans, the tone in his voice signalling that he's getting close to his breaking point.

"Oh baby, no one fucks me better than you. You take me so well, mama," Elvis begins to talk you through your pleasure as whines start escaping your throat.

Bringing his thumb to your clit again with hooded eyes, he starts a quick pace, egging on your weeping pussy.

"Oh God, Elvis, oh God," you cry, the pleasure building quickly.

"Oh baby yes, come on my cock. Please baby, I need it, need ya to come all over my fuckin' cock, Christ," he grunts, trying not to get there before you do.

He throws his head back as you clench around him, a scream falling from your lips at the pleasure.

"Oh, Goddamn," he grunts, his eyes clenching shut as his grip holds firm on your hips, his thumbs working you through your orgasm.

Bucking up into you one last time, he lets himself go inside you, a long groan falling from his lips. You are shaking as you come down from heaven, gasps falling from your lips. Collapsing onto his chest, he wraps his arms around you as he kisses your forehead, still buried inside you.

"Oh fuck," he gasps, his eyes looking to the ceiling in ecstacy.

He can't believe he finally has you back.

You bury your face in his chest, kissing it over and over again. You never want to let him go.

Masterlist

Tag list:

@horrorgirl4life @goldobsessionsworld @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @father-of-2cats @sissylittlefeather @elvisalltheway101 @littlehoneyposts @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab @msamarican @presleyhearted

[rintarousgirl]

kiss me better, baby - an atsumu miya two-shot

PART ONE - MASTERLIST

synopsis -

you and atsumu had been living together happily after your marriage, but after conflicting work schedules and bottled-up feelings, the two of you break into a heated argument. now, it's up to the two of you to mend it, maybe with a kiss? | tags: lack of communication, angst, making up, hurt/comfort, toxic relationship.

a/n: for my more dedicated followers (and those of you who simply are curious) i now have a nsfw blog so this blog is now strictly sfw! ofc, i will still post some suggestive stuff but for nsfw requests and works go to @tarousbaby!

"you look horrible," osamu drawls from the foot of the couch, eyebrows raised. you scoff, shifting so you're upright as you wipe at your red and splotchy face.

"thanks," you mutter, "you're quite the charmer."

osamu rolls his eyes, moving around the couch to sit beside you. he picks up your legs, dropping them back down into his lap as you huff. "why're you here? have you come to apologize on your brother's behalf?" you grumble, resting your cheek against the couch.

it'd been a week, and you'd been so down that you'd called sick out of work. you'd changed maybe once in the past seven days, and you're sure you stink. your shirt has a stain on it, and your hairs a rats nest but you couldn't find it in you to care. there wasn't anybody for you to bother looking pretty for.

"'tsumu told me what happened," he explains, rubbing small circles into your ankle, "though I'd like to hear your side of the story too. i don't trust half of what he says when he's angry."

you frown. you knew atsumu had a bad habit of blowing things out of proportion or simply not caring about them enough that he undermines them. it makes you wonder what story he'd spun for his twin.

"what'd he say?" you ask first, your shoulders hunching a little.

osamu clicks his tongue. "ah, ah, your story first remember? after, i'll make you something to eat, 'kay?"

you nod, partially enticed by the idea of osamu's cooking. falling back into the plush of the couch (which still smelled like his cologne) you begin to share what had occured that night and the events that led up to it.

you watch as osamu connects pieces of your story to atsumu's, and where he finds gaps too. you see his thoughts clear as day on his face, and moments where he judges you and then atsumu as well. at least it was good to know he had a fairly neutral opinion.

you finish of your long rant with a simple question, "where is he now?"

"my place, doing pretty much the same thing you are. he skipped practice too, multiple times. hinata came over once, but atsumu's kind of shutting people out so he left fairly quickly."

something in you aches, and for a moment, there's nothing you want to do more than break down the door and hold him close and beg him to apologize so the two of you could get over this. atsumu's sweet stubborn heart wouldn't let anyone in but osamu, and hopefully you.

but he'd also treated your insecurities as if they were nothing. he pretty much ignored you throughout the day. and when you'd confronted him about it, he'd blown you off. you shouldn't feel bad that he's wallowing in his own self-pity without you, but you do.

osamu stands, reaching above his head to crack his back. it pops, and you follow him as he makes his way to the kitchen. "is he okay?" you find yourself asking to which osamu chuckles.

"he's fine, just pouting. he'll get over it eventually and worm his way back to you," he says whilst rummaging through your cabinets. he finds a few boxes of rice, before turning to your fridge, "you shouldn't do the same. you have a life, a job. he can miss a few practices; you can't miss work."

he's right, and you know it. in the pocket of your sweats, you phone buzzes. probably another text from your co-workers wishing you a swift recovery.

"am i not allowed to be upset over my stupid husband?" you shoot back, despite it all.

osamu hums, and takes a very long very noticeable look at your barren ring finger. "do you still consider him your husband even?"

after that, you can't even find the words to reply.

☆ - - -

going back to work wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. it was easy for you to slip back into a routine, it kept your mind of atsumu.

so, for the next week, you went on with your life. you ignored how empty your hand felt without the comforting pressure of your ring, and how much you missed atsumu's arms around your waist at night.

it was almost easy to forget he existed but then you could look around, see your wedding pictures framed on the walls, smell his cologne on your sheets, see his laundry baskets in the basement.

it made you sick. sick with how much you missed him, and sick with how much you never wanted to see him again.

you'd spent too many nights curled in on yourself in bed, his cologne on your pillow, spotted with your tears.

you wake up one night to a knock on your front door. sitting up blearily from the couch, you rub at your eyes, brushing your hair out of your face. the clock reads 11:37. your tv is still on, some animal documentary lighting up your living room in blue light.

confusion settles in you along with a thick level of wariness. getting up, you try to keep your footsteps light as you approach the door. hovering your hand over the lock, you peek through the peephole and feel your heart skip a beat.

atsumu stands on your porch, hair wet with the rain outside and skin pale and clammy. he looks borderline hypothermic, but his cheeks are still flushed and pink. you stumble back from the door and stand there for a second, jaw dropped.

you move quickly to pull the door open, startling him as he jumps back. he blinks at you, and then he's crushing you.

his arms wrap around you, holding you close and tight and sweet. his face buries in your shoulder, and he lets out a weak pathetic sob into the fabric of your shirt. your hands twitch at your sides, unsure of what to do as he clings onto you.

swallowing a thick lump in your throat, your hands slowly reach up to rub up and down his spine in a comforting manner.

atsumu smells strongly of alcohol, thick and sour. it's clear he was drinking before coming home, and you weren't quite sure what to do. atsumu had never really been a drinker in your years together.

"'tsumu," you mumble, pushing him back lightly. he stumbles, looking at you like a hurt puppy. "let's go to the kitchen...i prefer you sober."

he follows you to the kitchen, struggling not to trip over his own two feet. you prepare him a glass of water and a bowl of food to eat. he digs in happily, small water droplets slipping down his chin.

you watch in silence as he eats, taking in his condition. he looked haggard, frozen, and just overall horrible. and despite all that, he was still just as beautiful as he was the day you married him.

sighing, you walk behind him, and pat his shoulders. "i'm going to set up the couch for you tonight. i don't want you going back out in that storm," he hums, looking up at you with tearful eyes.

“mkay,” he says, slurring his words. he stares up at you with an emotion you can’t quite place. without thinking, you reach out and stroke his cheek, pushing away wet hair that stuck to his face.

there aren’t any words said, but he leans into your touch. even drunk atsumu knew to look for you for safety.

you watch as he finishes his food, before scrambling to his feet to stumble over to the couch. you help him, supporting half his weight as he plops down onto the couch with a drawn out groan.

“thank you,” he says, a little more sober than he’d previously been, taking your hand. “i love you…”

your bottom lip trembles and you lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. his eyes flutter before slipping shut as he falls into a deep sleep. “i love you too, ‘tsumu,” you choke, tears threatening to spill over.

you love him so much.

- - - ☆

you wake up before atsumu does, which you’re kind of relieved about. you were scared that if you slept in, he’d wake up and run back to osamu and you’d blow your chance at a healthy conversation with him.

when you walk into the living room, he’s tangled up in the blankets you’d given him. a small chuckle escapes your lips, and you grab some aspirin from the bathroom and place a glass of water on the coffee table for him.

turning to the kitchen, you begin breakfast. it was a saturday morning, which meant you fortunately didn’t have work. you remember reading somewhere that eggs were good for hangovers so you open your fridge and grab some from the cartridge.

atsumu wakes up not long after that, awoken by the smell of the sizzling eggs and bacon. he sits up with a groan, clutching his temple, and you quickly sprint over to close the curtains to block the sunlight.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you find yourself saying, the tease slipping off your tongue as easy as water. you catch yourself a second after, and bite your lip.

atsumu looks at you like he’s lost, hurt, and in pain all at the same time which he probably is. you give him what you hope is a comforting smile. “c’mon let’s talk over breakfast.”

you extend a hand to help him up which he takes hesitantly, leaning into you subconsciously. he slides into a bar seat, and you quickly tend to the food for a few minutes before plating it.

besides the stove top, the kettle hissed, letting you know the tea you’d begun to brew was finished. you pour him a cup to have with his food.

he takes it gratefully, but his eyes don't stray from your figure as you make your own plate. "y/n," he calls softly, pushing back his plate. he stands up with a sigh as you turn from the counter, and walks around so you're face to face, only three feet apart.

"i'm sorry," he whispers, "not just for this...for everything."

you watch in silence, swallowing the thick lump of emotion in your throat. he'd said it drunk, but it'd been easy to tell yourself he didn't really mean it then, no matter how much you wanted him to. now that it happened, it almost didn't feel real.

"are you? i mean, like, really?" you end up croaking, eyes darting to the ring glinting on his finger. he brings up his palm and places it over his heart.

"dead serious," he says, before taking your hand. his face falls when he notices the lack of ring, and he brings it up to his face to cup his cheek. he presses a kiss to the inside of your hand.

"i was so stupid, baby. i should've listened to you. i was stressed and couldn't think of anything but myself and that was so foolish of me. when i married you, i promised myself you would always be my first priority and i broke that promise. i am so, truly sorry, y/n."

his eyes are a bit red, but he doesn't cry, and there's a dimple in his chin as he tries to hold back his emotions. your heart breaks and shatters into little glass pieces, spilling out of you and crashing onto the floor.

"oh," you say softly, the wind having been stolen from your lungs. "i...i forgive you, 'tsumu..."

you take a step forward, and his face lights up. you lift your hand from his cheek, and he opens his arms for a hug.

bringing your hand down, you land a harsh smack onto his shoulder, the sound filling the room.

he winces, an immediate hand raising to clasp over his shoulder. "i deserved that," he laughs lightly, and you find yourself smiling back despite it all.

you crash into his arms, burying your nose into the fabric of his shirt.

his arms rub up and down your spine, squeezing you tight. "i promise i'll never disregard you again. i'll listen to everything you say, understand every insecurity. you are apart of me, baby, i wouldn't want to ever hurt you again."

"i love you," you whimper wetly into his shirt, "i always have."

"i know," he replies, "i love you too."

you look up at him and smile. he smiles back, sweet and soft and genuine, and you think it's the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen.

taglist: (anyone who interacted last post)

@snail-squasher | @yamaguchikinnie | @radtragedyarcade

[dark-fuckprincess]

Long Post Abt World Eaters

Working on some World Eaters now. This guy is ready for oils and enamels. I did the armour by stippling with an old brush I have cut specifically for stippling. I did a grey primer and then stippled Celestra Grey, Celestra Grey/white, and then white in limited areas. Then I glazed some blue in the shadows to make the white more vibrant and strictly on the cool spectrum (more colour information is usually more interesting). Difficulty with this method is making sure moisture of brush is removed after thinned paint is applied to brush.

This recipe only took maybe 30 or so minutes to do a majority of the work. Usually my airbrush hits the executive dysfunction part of my brain and makes actually completing a miniature difficult. Taking it from airbrush station back to painting station back to airbrush for varnish back to painting station for oils. Well I've been using oils without varnishes and fine so far.

If I were to do a warm white I'd do less steps on the basecoat and really more on Burnt Umber oil wash. I wonder if I can do something similar with Paynes Grey. Could be an experiment.

This is the same mix but done with drybrushing. It's alright. Not sure which I like better. This one looks more like typical drybrushed crap texture so maybe I'll try tapping the actual brush on a damp sponge.

This is what it looks like as a wip, that horrible texture is less apparent. Still gave trim and blue glazing to do.

Both these look better than my older stippled WE imo

The one on the left is stippled. There is a big contrast in the shadows to the light areas. Just a diffe4ent look that I don't prefer. The one on the right is done with the airbrush.

Looking back a lot of those World Eaters I did don't spark too much joy. Maybe it's just the place in my life I was in at the time. Just bad feelings about them. Learned a lot about painting white though. And hey that Cataphractii on the right above is quite good imo and one of the only Cataphractii I've done that looks good. Those models are not fun to paint for me. They give me the ick. Don't like their shapes. Not friendly to my autism.

As a throwback here is my test model for my World Eaters, the first one I did ever as well as the first model where white was the main colour. The second model I did was greatly improved and was a gift for the girl I just started dating at the time and ofc us being still together I credit to my amazing skill in painting.

This of course in an amazing way fits the grimdark styling of 30k and I quite like it overall. I used a burnt umber/lamp black oil wash and learned the lesson of just how much an oil wash can darken a colour of a piece and progressively over many minis learned to push the white highlights higher and higher to fit my preferences. The Chainsaw is orange because of Chainsaw Man.

I think I'll start posting more of my old minis and projects and such. I have many pictures saved up.

I've been in a good groove with my hobby lately. Time away from painting has given me space away from my habits and a new perspective, learning to detach from old ways and learn new ones.

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies: part 3

(Kendall Roy x OFC)

Summary: Diane is spinning out of control, trying to get closer to Kendall while simultaneously trying to keep him at arms length.

Warnings: mentions of sex / daddy issues/ reference to abuse/ masturbation / phone sex

A/N: sorry for the wait lovelies!! I almost had an aneurysm writing this!! Ahhh the tension !!!

part 1 part 2

ao3 link

👄👛🐙🌺🫀🎟️👅💒🎀🫁💗🩰🌸🦩🪱👚🧠🌷

Diane rested her head on Kendall’s arm, they were wrapped under the covers, the moon casting a glow on her skin. She looked out the window, watching the clouds move past, shadowing over the moon and then it reappearing. She was content, she was having the best sex of her life, she was making it up the ladder at work, things couldn’t be going better for her.

“So, my panties just magically appeared out of thin air?” She shifted to face him, rubbing a finger up his chest.

“Uh yeah, yeah they did.” Kendall's face broke into a toothy grin. He had found a crumpled up piece of paper that Diane had left on his pillow case eliciting her phone number, and invited her over under the pretense to collect her forgotten garment. But the second she stepped in the door they were all over each other, a trail of their clothing leading up to his bedroom.

“Hmm, interesting.”

“Very interesting.” He liked this. He liked her. She wasn’t desperate, she didn’t salvate over him, she wasn’t enticed by his penthouse, his driver, his expensive cars— nothing he had made her swoon over him. She treated him like a chewing gum under her red bottoms. The 2 previous times they hooked up were the only times he slept peacefully without tossing and turning or waking up in cold sweats. She made him forget his nightmare of a life, his mind was occupied by her instead. 

Diane sat up, and Kendall pulled her back down, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, “I know, I know, you have work in the morning,” he kissed her neck, “but what’s the rush?”

“Okay,” she sighed, maybe spending some time in his arms might get him to open up his closet of skeletons, “10 more minutes, only because I’m tired.”

“Aww, poor baby’s tired because I fucked her too hard.” He teased.

“Yeah? More like old man, desperate for some company.” She snorted.

“Please, you’re just as desperate as me, ‘please Kendall, I need you, fuck me harder, faster’, that’s you by the way, literally 10 minutes ago.” He mocked her, putting on a high pitched girlish squeal.

She slapped his chest, rolling over to face the other way, “Fuck off,” she mumbled, “no cuddles for you.”

“No— wait. I’m sorry,” he spooned her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, “You’re not desperate, I am. I’m the desperate one.” He rested his chin on her head, “I’m so fucking desperate, I wear it like a badge of honour.”

“That's what I thought,” she wrapped her arms over his, his body heat radiating through her, “I really need to leave soon.” She tapped his arms for him to release, she couldn’t let herself get too comfortable, she had to remind herself that this entanglement was strictly business, nothing more. She couldn’t get too close to him, only close enough to get what she needed.

“10 more minutes,” he pressed, holding her tighter, “what do you even do for work? Like a fucking barista or some shit, they won’t care if you’re a little late.” He chuckled, kissing her shoulder.

“You’re the male version of Amy Schumer with these back to back hilarious jokes,” she snapped. Sex with him was good, amazing even, but speaking to him for more than 5 minutes made her ears bleed. He was a typical misogynist but he hid behind his mask of fake feminism and big pouty lips, deceiving women into thinking he was an ally. 

“No but seriously, what do you do?” 

“I work in fashion,” she lied effortlessly, having rehearsed her fake backstory a million times.

“Yeah, yeah I can see that,” he licked his lips. She certainly dressed like someone who worked in fashion, everything she wore made her look like a model, her skirts were always short, heels LV, purses designer. She clearly had money and wasn’t sleeping with him for his. Somehow he found her even more attractive now that he knew she actually had an established career. “You could be a fucking model, you know.”

“I don’t have the height for it,” thankfully she was facing away from him so he couldn’t see the deep blush on her cheeks.

“If I was a casting agent you’d be my first pick, over any other anorexic, uh fucking, coc brain trying to make it big in the city fucking to prove her daddy wrong typa girl.” 

Diane laughed, Kendall had a way of talking that made no sense, it was a jumbled mess of adjectives and random words that he freestyled into his language, but yet it still somehow made sense to her.

“Thank you? I think.”

“Are you not gonna ask me what I do for work?” 

“What do you do, Kendall?” She asked, even though she could write an entire biography about him from memory, with references.

“I work in media……” he trailed off, hoping she wouldn’t make the connection.

“Yeah I think me and half of New York read the Wall Street article,” she laughed, referring to a story published about his disastrous vote of no confidence that went up in flames.

“So you heard about that, huh?” His heart sank slowly.

“Yeah, I did,” she turned around in his arms to face him, “so I don’t really think you can call it working in media after that whole showdown,” she teased.

“Well, actually,” his eyes drifted away from hers, “I’m working at Waystar again, that was just all a little spur of the moment tiff, you know how it is with family, the whole sha-bang was just blown out up into a cluster bliff.”

“Really?” She raised her brows, finally he was talking about his family, jackpot, “so you and your dad are good now?”

“Yeah, we’re fucking fine. We’re family, it’s just water under the bridge,” He tried to put on a strong front but Diane didn’t miss the pained look in his eyes. “Speaking of dad's, do you even have one?” He quickly changed the topic.

“Excuse me?” Diane blinked back at him, they went from talking about their jobs one minute to him now asking about her dad. It was getting too personal, too quick.

“Yeah, I mean, come on, you’re clearly fucking me because you have some unresolved daddy issues here, doesn’t take an idiot to figure it out.” His eyes accusing, burned through her.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Diane’s father was her number 1 supporter, he was her everything. Unlike most girls who grew distant from their parents when they hit teenage years, Diane’s family only got closer. She loved her parents dearly, they called every night and often flew to New York to visit her. Her relationship with her dad had nothing to do with Kendall, unbeknownst to him.

“You don’t think I’m fucking you for any other reason? Other than my alleged daddy issues?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m not like fucking offended or anything, there’s nothing wrong with it,” he reassured her, “if I told my therapist about you, he’d probably psychoanalyse the shit out of me and say it’s because of some deep rooted issues too.”

Diane’s ears perked up at the mention of his therapist. She made a mental note to figure out where he had these therapy sessions, if it was at home she could listen in.

“Right,” Diane nodded, understanding that she now had to add daddy issues to her character arc to bond with him, “Yeah, I guess maybe I do have some daddy issues, or maybe I just like older men. I don’t know.”

“It’s definitely daddy issues.” Kendall didn’t think the latter to be true. He knew Diane could do alot better than him, by a million miles. He couldn’t fathom how he kept getting her in his bed. At first he thought he had some serious game to land her but when she agreed to come over tonight, even he himself was shocked. What was it about him that attracted her, his body was wasting away with his drug use, his dick was average at best, his charm was non-existent. So what was it that kept bringing her back to him? It had to be daddy issues, he thought he had hit the nail on the head with his theory.

“And you’re fucking a woman almost half your age…. because of your daddy issues?” She left her statement open-ended, hoping he’d take the bait and elaborate, “How can a man still have daddy issues at the age of 50?”

“Fuck off,” he rolled his eyes, “I’m fucking 39 years old, how many times do we have to go over this?” He groaned in frustration.

“Okay, okay,” she corrected herself, “How can a 39 year old man still have daddy issues.”

“If you had a dad like mine, then you’d have issues till the fucking grave. Trust me. Your daddy didn’t give you attention growing up? Oh boo fucking hoo, my dad gave me years of emotional trauma, his love is conditional, he fucking made sure to let me know I wasn’t worth a damn thing every day I woke up— he…..” he choked up, his soft eyes getting glossy. The joint he had smoked was making him speak to loosely.

“He what?” 

“Nothing, just forget about it.” He rolled over to lay on his back, staring at the blank ceiling. Kendall felt too much, he felt everything, it was one of the reasons he smoked, did drugs, he hadn’t spent a sober night in months. His mind was restless without it. But laying beside Diane had a calming effect on him.

She rested her head on his chest, “You can’t let you dad define you, you can’t make him your entire personality. That’s just sad.”

“Yeah, and uh fucking what abut you?” 

“My dad was different,” Diane vaguely said, not having anything bad to say about her him off the top of her head.

“Different how?”

“He just was.”

“Stop being so cagey—“

“He abused me,” she blurted out without thinking.

Kendall cupped her cheek, stroking her cheek bone, “abused you? How?” His eyes hardened at the implication, was it physical? Emotional? Or even worse….

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She whispered, looking away from his intense gaze. She knew it was wrong to lie about something so serious, something so heinous. But it was better to leave it vague so as not to not raise any follow up questions. She didn’t want to get caught out in her lies. 

“I’m sorry, uh fuck I feel like a dick. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s fine,” she got up from the bed, shuffling to put her clothes on, “and Kendall,” he looked up at her, “I’m not hooking up with you only because of my daddy issues….It’s because you’re the only person who’s ever made me cum.” She blushed looking away.

Kendall’s face morphed into one of pride, “I can’t blame you, you gotta keep coming back to the best.” He pointed his thumbs at himself, shimming his shoulder in a little dance.

Diane soon left, and Kendall laid awake all night thinking about her, smelling her scent on the pillow she rested her head on. He couldn’t get enough of her, if it was up to him he would’ve held her in his arms all night basking in her floral shampoo mixed with her vanilla body spray.

—————————————————————————-

The next day Diane was at work finishing up an article about the Top 10 most influential people of the year, her phone buzzed.

Kendall: hey

Diane: hello

Kendall: What are you doing?

Diane: some of us have jobs

Kendall: ha ha

Send me your location

I’m bringing lunch

Diane sat up straight, she was beginning to sweat behind her knees. Kendall couldn’t show up at her office, she couldn’t risk him finding out that she was a journalist. If he pulled at that thread it threatened to uncover that she was building up the article of the century about his company’s wrong doings.

Of course Diane knew his daily schedule. She listened in on his phone call with his assistant every morning, and there was no mention of a spontaneous lunch plan.

Her carefully curated plan was beginning to crumble under her feet. She hadn’t expected Kendall to be this clingy.

Phase 1: plant the bugs 

Phase 2: get closer to him, get him to open up, get information

Phase 3: get him to lower his guard, go through his laptop 

Phase 4: build the story

Phase 5: ghost him

Nowhere in her plan did it say, Kendall showing up to her office with lunch. How could she have possibly planned in advance for this. Her mind was racing a million miles per hour. She threw her blazer on, slinging her purse over her shoulder and practically ran 20 blocks, going as fast as her short legs could carry her. She shared her location with Kendall just as she made it outside the Vogue building.

His car pulled up not even 10 minutes after, he stepped out holding a bakery bag and a cup holder with 2 coffees.

“Hungry?” He smirked, handing her the bag of sweet treats.

“Kendall, hi.” She tried to act nonchalant, even though her cheeks were flushed from exertion and she was slightly out of breath.

“So, you gonna invite me into your office or…?”

“Uhm…” she thought of an excuse, “actually I was thinking maybe we could go to pumphouse park? It’s only a couple blocks away. I like to get some fresh air, can’t stay cooped up inside the office all day.”

“Yeah, sure whatever you want,” he was dressed in a crisp navy suit, his sunglasses tucked into his collar, he looked good. When Diane first slept with him, she didn’t see the appeal, he wasn’t conventionally good looking, he could barely get out a sentence without stuttering, he definitely was not someone she would approach in a bar. But now, in the daylight, in his pristine outfit, he reeked of power, like he held the world in the palm of his hand— and the worst part of it all was that Diane was strangely attracted to him now. All of a sudden he wasn’t that pathetic middle aged nobody she had first targeted, he was somebody now, a very important somebody.

“For you,” he handed her a coffee as they began walking, “I didn’t know what you like so I just got you my usual order.”

Diane thanked him and took a sip, “Is this just plain black coffee?” She gave him a questionable look.

“Just how I like it,” he grinned taking a sip of his own, “Don’t tell me, you uh, you probably like a fucking iced latte with fucking syrup to the brim, extra sweet, extra cream on top.”

“Yeah that was probably my order when I was 12,” she snorted, “No I like it, I mean some creamer wouldn’t kill you but it’ll do.”

“Don’t drink it if you don’t like it,” he snatched the cup off her, “I’ll get you another coffee from somewhere else.”

“No, no it’s fine, seriously.” She laughed, holding her hand out, “coffee is coffee, i just need it to get through the day.”

He handed it back to her, happy that she liked his preference, or maybe she was just drinking it to be nice, but either way he was happy.

“Yeah? How was work?”

“Yeah, yeah it was good, I just run around taking peoples’ coffee and lunch orders all day, nothing crazy.” They sat down on a quiet bench overlooking the Hudson, covered by a veil of trees.

“You know, Anna’s a friend. I could put in a good word for you.” He offered.

“NO,” she said abruptly, “Thank you, but no. I don’t need any help, I need to earn it myself.” She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Her throat dried up at the thought of Kendall mentioning her to Anna Wintour and her having no idea who she was because Diane did not even work for Vogue, it was terrifying. She started to feel overwhelmed, this was a new complication, one that Diane was not prepared for. She mentally scolded herself for leaving so many loose ends, her carelessness had put her entire plan in jeopardy.

“I mean it couldn’t hurt, I’ll just mention it in passing.” He wanted to help her, because maybe just maybe then she would see him as more. It was the only way he saw himself getting closer to her. Diane was so hard to read, she was ice cold and he wanted to melt down her exterior. Yes he had been inside her numerous times, but it wasn’t the same as waking up next to her, her face nuzzled up in his neck, her breath tickling against his skin, that’s what he wanted.  Maybe if he got her a higher position at work, then she might see him as a good guy. He wanted to show her that he was a good guy, he needed her to know that he was a good guy.

“No,” she shook her head adamantly. “I don’t want to cut corners, what kind of a person would I be to do that? I just need to put in the work, get results, and in the end all my hard work will pay off. Please, just promise me you won’t try to help.”

So she didn’t want him to abuse his powers and help her climb the ranks? She didn’t seem to want anything from him. Kendall had put her through every test so far and she passed each one with flying colors. She was pure, she stood by her morals. Kendall thought it was too good to be true, yet here she was having lunch with him, and didn't want anything in return from him.

Kendall wanted her to jump through one last hoop, “Okay, I won’t say anything, if you go for dinner with me tonight.”

She was dodging bullets left right and center, if she was seen having dinner with Kendall Roy, the paps would make the connection in seconds, she’d be finished before she even started. Diane was working overtime trying to keep her identity hidden. If Kendall found out the truth he would probably end her career in seconds, anxiety pooled in the pit of her stomach. She knew she had to get closer to Kendall while simultaneously trying to keep him at arm's length. She was navigating through a maze of lies, it was proving to be more challenging than she had initially expected, almost impossible.

“Look, Kendall you’re great, honestly. You’re a really great guy, but all of this,” she gestured to the half eaten croissant and other assortment of baked goods, “and dinner, I just, I just think we should keep it casual, take things slow, yeah?”

Kendall’s face lit up, so she didn’t want him for fame either? She didn’t want to be latched on his arm like his sugar baby, “Casual?” He thought for a moment, she was perfect, she didn’t want anything more from him, he could give her the one thing he was good at. In the past Kendall had proven to be a terrible boyfriend, and even worse husband. But to contain this relationship to the sheets, he excelled at that, he was a passionate lover, and more than generous. He was confident that he could keep her satisfied, he would be so good to her that she would keep coming back to him for more.

“Casual sounds good to me.” He smirked, taking a bite of Diane’s croissant.

He had taken all measures to ensure that Diane could cause him no harm. She was an innocent, harmless girl with some moderate to severe daddy issues— it was nothing he couldn’t handle. 

“Yeah casual, friends with benefits.” She stuck out her pinky finger.

“Friends with benefits.” He nodded, interlocking his pinky with hers.

Kendall insisted on walking her back to ‘her office’, but she didn’t let him, she forced him to call his driver to the park. Diane waved him goodbye as the car sped off, letting out a breath of relief, she didn’t know how she managed to do it but she did. She got Kendall right where she wanted him, the friend aspect was for the article, but the sex— that was just for her own benefit. She could juggle it all, she was back in the control center.

—————————————————————————-

“….. that’s a common misconception people have about keeto, I actually feel amazing, more than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. Cutting out carbs is the best thing anyone could do for themselves. Just last week I read an article about the dangerous effects of complex carbohydrates on women of child bearing age…” blah blah blah, Kendall was bored out of his mind as his date rambled on about her diet for the better  half of an hour. 

He had matched with some model on Raya, but now wished he hadn’t swiped right. She was the type of prissy Hamptons girl who got off on talking about herself, things that Kendall couldn’t care less about. He found himself comparing her to Diane, how the woman sat across from him had nothing on her. His date had a model’s figure, slender and flat, no meat, nothing to grab onto. Whereas Diane with her petite hourglass figure, curvy in all the right places, he remembered his face being suffocated by her breasts, it would’ve been the best way to go out of this world.

His phone buzzed on the table, it was almost like Diane knew he was thinking about her. He excused himself from the table just as his date began telling him about the time she backpacked across Eastern Europe. He rushed to the bathroom and attended the call.

“Hello?” He asked, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he adjusted himself in his slacks, just the thought of her made his cock head twitch.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Diane asked innocently, twiddling with a piece of her hair.

“Yeah, I’m actually a little busy right now.”

“Hmm, well you can’t be that busy if you’re on the phone with me right now.” She argued, and boy was she right, “So, how’s your little date going?”

“How did you know I’m on a date?” He chuckled, “You stalking me now?”

“It doesn’t take an Einstein to figure out what someone would be busy with past 8pm.” She said matter of factly, “So how’s it going?” 

“It’s going fine, great actually. I’m having a great time.” He overcompensated for his miserable evening.

“Yeah I’m sure,” she snorted, “so what’s on the menu? Are you going back to her place or is she coming to yours?”

“I don’t know yet,” Kendall played along, “I’ll see where the night takes me, friend.” But deep down he wanted to see Diane tonight.

“Such a shame, friend,” she sighed dramatically, Kendall could make out the sound of her shuffling around under her duvet.

“Uh-huh. Why exactly?” 

“Because I’m lying naked on my bed, touching myself, thinking about you.” She let out a small moan, she was laying out a thread of yarn, hoping he would chase it like an eager kitten. She liked toying with him, making him move like her puppet.

Kendall almost choked on his own spit, Diane was always so blunt, he could feel the blood rushing to the tip of his cock, “Like what?” He stammered, unbuckling his pants and stroking himself.

“Just thinking about how you spit on me and rub down, you do it so good,” Diane was a natural born actress, she could win awards for her performances. She was currently sitting in bed, proofreading an article that would be posted in the morning. But she could multitask, she let out a few small moans, “I can’t do it like you do, it doesn’t feel the same as your fingers, or your cock.”

“Diane,” Kendall grunted, pumping himself faster.

“My fingers aren’t big enough, ugh I just want you— I want you to pin me against the mattress, split me apart with every inch of your cock, fuck me until I can’t walk the next day,” she let out a whine, letting out a few ragged breaths, “fuck, nobody does it better than you do, Kendall.”

“You’re so filthy,” Kendall groaned, his cock was pulsating in his hands, the images she created had him jacking off in the restaurant's bathroom, he knew no shame. “You’re so needy for me, tell me how needy you are for me— tell me.”

“I need you so bad Kendall,” she whimpered, as she fixed a few typos in her article, “I want you to fill me up, I need you to stuff me up, ahhhh— fuck fuck fuck.” Diane swore out in frustration when she accidentally deleted all her changes, she tried to undo it but it was too late.

“Fuck me too, shit.” Kendall panted, creaming in his hand, “Fuck, what— what just happened?” He placed his phone down on the sink to clean himself up.

“Nothing,” Diane said with a smirk, she was once again in the driver's seat, “Enjoy your date, hope you have an amazing night.”

[kennedys-lvr]

TENNESSEE WHISKEY, STRAWBERRY WINE — CHAPTER 26 (AO3)

lowkey love writing leon's chapters bc like even tho i make him a lil bit ~FREAKY~ it's always fun. plus this is an au so i can make him act how i like 🤭😩

anyways if u like this fic (or any of my fics) PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT ON THEM! i've been in such a drought with low engagement and i don't mean to sound whiny, i still appreciate all u silent readers who give ur kudos, but i also would appreciate just a lil comment every now and then, even if it's like a "good soup" or smth funny.

i've turned the guest comments off bc of bots (seriously ao3 pls sort out the hate bot issue) so many times it's lowkey draining. ofc it doesn't affect me posting fics bc i know my shit good (to me) but like.. everyone likes a lil praise, right?

hopefully i ain't just turned off all my readers... anyways, sorry for the lil whine, i'll get on with the cowboy smut now. full chapter is here!

Ada leans up against the wooden door frame as I climb into my truck three hours later, after I have the privilege of putting Rome to bed. My chest is warm from the single glass of whiskey I've had and the memory of Rome hugging me tight and thanking me for the hat, which was hung proudly on his bedpost at the end of the bed.

Ada wraps her silk robe tighter around herself as she watches me head for my truck. The robe is black, reaching her mid thigh and matching the silk nightgown that she had on underneath that, similarly to her gown, barely covered anything. Something she’d ‘conveniently’ changed into when I was putting our son to bed, as she made a stupid attempt to try something right at the final buzzer.

But it hadn’t worked—or, rather foolishly, it worked in some kind of capacity. My body might have ‘risen to the occasion’, but I’d be able to rectify it soon enough without her input. And it had been kind of amusing to see Ada scoff slightly when I told her such a thing.

She still has to get in the last word though, as I shut my truck door and turn on the ignition.

“Say hello to Dee for me! Tell her she was missed here!” Ada calls out, voice dripping with attitude and condescension that makes me bite back a groan. I wait for Ada to go back inside before taking out the phone that’s been burning a hole in my pocket, checking my messages.

Dee had texted me at around eight, saying that she had finished up with dinner and that she was thinking of me. I smile to myself, wondering what she could be doing right now—it’s ten o’clock at night.

Would everyone be in bed already? Would she be waiting up for me?

I feel myself swell at the thought of her waiting. After the day I’d had, I throb with the urge to see her. To hold her, to be near her, to remind myself of her. Even though I’d been with her damn near every night this week, it still doesn't feel like enough for me. I feel like I’m an addict.

Shit, I am an addict.

And she’s my drug.

I can only hope this shit wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass one day. I blow a raspberry, sighing gently before typing out a text.

Me: Is the coast clear?

That’s our phrase. I grin just thinking about it, imagining her in her room waiting for me—or perhaps she’d been daring enough to sneak over to wait for me in my bed, lying beneath my sheets and rubbing herself all over them.

I groan at the thought, shifting to accommodate my growing erection which thumped like a kickdrum against my zipper. Ada’s words sink into my mind—her accusations—and my eyebrows furrow at the memory of them.

What does a forty-six year old guy want with some girl in her twenties, if he isn't chasing after his golden years?

I’m not chasing after anything. I don't want to be so into her—I tell myself that every day, that I should have been smarter, that I should have stayed away from her and maintained something strictly professional instead of trying to be friendly.

But when she looks at me like that, and she smiles at me like she does. When her eyes go wide and doe-like for me, when that cute little blush appears on her cheeks, I feel like I’m lost. Lost within her, lost within this feeling.

Maybe that's what I’m chasing—the feeling. The feeling of being wanted. The feeling of being needed.

My phone chimes, breaking through my train of thought. I pick up my phone, the smile already tugging at my lips as I read her reply.

Dee: Coast is clear. Grandpa went to bed early, Dad and Danny are doing a road trip to some beef supplier’s conference thing. I wasn't really paying attention at lunch earlier. Either way, house is quiet. Want me to head over?

I hum thoughtfully, doing what I’ve done every time we ask this question to each other—asking if the coast’s clear, that is. I weigh my options, pro and con it.

On the pro side, I’d get to see her tonight. I'd get to wake up next to her tomorrow, and if we’re early enough, have time for a quickie. Not that it was wise of me to be doing quickies at my age with the job I keep, but she seems to love it, so anything for that little sunshine of mine.

As a con, we run the risk of getting caught. Then again, we usually always do. Since the cattle drive event, there have been a few instances where we’ve been overheard—nothing too bad, and I manage to lie my way out of it, but the thrill is getting a little too much to chase nowadays—

Who the fuck was I kidding.

I start typing out a response, about to tell her to get her ass over there and wait for me, but then an idea hits me. For all the times she has come to me, I have never once gone to her—for obvious fucking reasons.

But maybe we could swing it. Just one night—to try something new? The idea lodges into my brain, the thought of sneaking into her bed like a dirty little secret, climbing in through the window like that prince in Rapunzel.

A smirk tips up on my lips as my thumbs fly across the screen.

Me: Still an hour out. See you soon. Wait for me.

I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and then pull out of the drive, throwing my arm across the back to back out before turning and rumbling through the quiet suburban streets onto the main road that would carry me out of town and onto the highway.

Getting onto the highway, I find myself practically gunning it. Thankfully, there aren't that many cars on the road—we’d gone well past peak times, and whilst I’m not breaking any laws, this whole drive feels very quick, as I crank up my stereo and hummed along to Nickelback’s ‘Photograph’, remembering that first drive in my truck where Dee and I sang along to all kinds of songs.

Remembering her face that day, the laugh she’d had let out as she sang off-key with the wind in her hair and the sun shining on her skin, makes my chest feel warm. It had made my heart swell, seeing her so carefree—and perhaps being the cause of that, as at the time we had been listening to whatever songs came on my stereo, rather than on her playlist.

And, as I would come to find out, we have the exact same taste in music—barring a few artists, but, as of recently I’ve come to enjoy them too. But if you were to catch me humming along to Whitney Houston or Celine Dion, I’ll deny it until the cows come home.

A low sigh whooshes out of me as I turn down the gravel driveway leading up to Hartwell Ranch—Amantes Ranch, according to the wooden sign that hangs up at the front of the drive, but I've gotten so used to calling it Hartwell Ranch that I can’t see myself stopping.

I’m sure Dee’s ancestors are fine with it, though. I’ll get it eventually, I’m sure—but tonight I don't give a shit. I’m just happy to be home, pulling up in front of the main house and turning off my truck.

All the lights within the log cabin-style ranch house are off, save for the porch light that’s always on and the light in the second window from the edge of the porch, those dark blinds instantly recognisable to me—I’m the one who had put them up, after all.

I find myself grinning again as I get out of the truck, being sure to grab my phone—and one of my glovebox condoms, because it always pays to be prepared—before shutting the truck door as quietly as I can. I then give myself a minute to look at that window, trying to imagine what she was doing in there.

I have the image of her in my head of her propped up in bed like Kate Winslet in ‘Titanic’, posing for Jack Dawson. She’d be naked like Kate, her sheets draped around her hips but showing off the masses of skin that my mouth is already watering over as I creep towards that window, wishing I had x-ray vision right now so that I could see inside—

Damn. I really was a fucking pervert.

Eh. I could deal with that. She likes it.

I snag a tiny white chip of gravel from the ground, rolling the tiny pebble between my thumb and forefinger before whipping it at the window. The pebble bounces off of the thick glass with a low thunk before falling into the bushes outside of her window, making the leaves rustle.

I haven't done this in years—probably back in high school, that’s how juvenile this whole thing is.

But let me be juvenile for a night. I've earned it.