#that's why i opened up art requests for whoever wants to do that

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

this is mostly in jest but heads up i might not post official art besides small doodles for a while because my drafts ran out and these past two weeks have genuinely been destroying my mental health so I don't have the capacity to do anything seriously art-related right now

[heavenbarnes]

I wanna make it (so badly)

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns, swearing, inappropriate employer/employee relationship, dry-humping, a lot of heavy petting, implied age gap, effective-infidelity (reader tested, tashi approved), oral sex (f!receiving), art is a bit of a pervert and mega-pathetic (endearing), references to religion (worship).

Word Count: 5.8k

i white knuckled the steering wheel on the way home from this film thinking about art donaldson- this is, essentially, an ode to that

Youth tennis lessons, $20/h, call for details

Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.

Cleaning, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, pet-walking. There was virtually nothing you hadn't tried.

Odd jobs, odd hours, and the occasional odd employer.

You'd played tennis for the last couple years of college. Nothing remotely competitive but you and your friends had looked cute in the skirts and they'd give you whole hours out of class to play.

You were above average with a good arm and better patience.

Another odd job to add to your growing list.

You'd been particular about where you'd posted the ads, the neighbourhoods you'd chosen. Only the ones with manicured lawns and white picket fences.

Tacking the paper to boards in upmarket cafes, fancy supermarkets, ladies-only gyms.

The kind of people that want their kids playing tennis and could find their way to increase your pay- if you did well.

You always did very well.

So your little car looked a little out of place in this neighbourhood, fingers holding the scribbled post-it note with the address. Your scrawling handwriting detailing the "Donaldson's" were enquiring within.

Pulling up outside the house, you had a quiet inkling that you might've been out of your depth. Whoever owned this house deserved more than an above-average-ex-college-student that only learnt the sport to spend time with friends.

But they'd requested you, you'd have to let them come to that conclusion on your own.

Your knuckles only hit the door once before it was being swung open by someone that looked destined to be a security guard, like he'd come out the womb with his future decided.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

He'd left you in the "formal lounge" to sit smack-bang in the centre of a couch that wouldn't even fit in the lobby of your apartment building- let alone the apartment itself.

As you admired a painting on the wall that you'd only ever seen in books, high heels on the stone floors made you jump in your seat.

The most beautiful woman you might ever see in your life appeared before you and said your name in a way that had you standing from your seat.

Your face faltered just enough that you hoped she didn't notice. There was something about her that told you she noticed everything.

Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.

If you know a thing about tennis (or even just watched the news) you know exactly who this woman is. You remember her more from your childhood but you remember her all the same.

The woman that once held the world by the balls.

She apologised for her husband's absence, that he was busy. It wasn't lost on you that the "husband" she casually referred to was Art Donaldson, US Open champion.

The Donaldson's.

Ah fuck.

Tashi went on the explain that they were wanting to begin lessons for their daughter Lily. You assumed this was the one you could hear running circles around the informal lounge.

"With all due respect, am I not the least qualified person in this home for that?"

You watched a perfectly formed cheekbone lift in what was nearly a smile. Strangely enough, something in the pit of your chest was dying to make her do that again.

There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.

You were no exception to the rule.

"My husband and I have seen some of your matches, we liked what we saw."

How? Your 'matches'- if you can even call them that, were nothing of note. You don't even think faculty bothered to watch them. You weren't quite sure why they'd even recorded them.

A silly part of you began to wonder how they'd even got a hold of them- until you remembered who they were.

The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.

"You did? I always thought of myself as more of a casual player."

"And that's what we liked, we know better than anyone how brutal tennis can become. We want someone to help Lily enjoy the game."

Oh, okay then.

You'd made a quasi-college-career out of purely enjoying the game. You were sure you could foster the same spirit for the six-year-old performing the entire 'Encanto' soundtrack in the other room.

Tashi laid down a tight schedule, Monday to Friday, 3pm to 6pm. You would teach Lily the wonders of the game on the court behind their home.

Their home you'd come to find out was a luxury rental when you'd complemented Tashi on another of the art pieces that'd apparently come with the place.

You'd also come to find out they typically live in hotel rooms, but they'd settled in this area for the time being as Art had a good thing going with a regular playing schedule and a sporting-goods deal.

You nodded along like you could begin to understand a life like that.

As she showed you back to your car (the one you suddenly felt humiliated for her to see you own), she called your name one last time from the doorway.

"You undersell yourself, we'll give you eighty an hour."

She left you choking on your tongue with one foot in the car and the other on an Italian cobblestone.

You were never going to walk or sit another dog again.

Lily was going to win her first Grand Slam by ten if that's what they'd pay you.

As your peeled your car from their turn-around area, you watched a Jeep Wrangler slow as it passed you. You couldn't see through the tint but you just knew it was him.

And you knew he was watching you.

-

The minute you'd told your roommate the situation you'd come into, she'd called bullshit.

A few texts from Tashi's now saved icon and a weird little photo you'd taken from inside the guest bathroom, it'd been enough to convince her.

"Fucking hell, are you God's favourite or something?"

You'd argue you were quite the opposite, she of all people should know. She'd seen some of the states you'd come home in after your other random jobs.

Felt good to be the winner.

Even just once.

In the air of some girlish fascination, she brought up a Youtube video of "Tashi Duncan Career Highlights" courtesy of "tennisguy779."

You'd protested it, rolling your eyes while feigning disinterest. No use, the minute you caught her out the corner of your eye- you were captivated.

It was entirely possible to imagine she hovered above the court, like there was a greater force placing her exactly where she needed to be, exactly when she needed.

It was even easier to believe she was just that good.

As you watched her play, listened to the sounds the game could draw from her- you wondered if this was how she and Art had felt.

Had they curled up in their informal lounge like you were right now? Had Tashi studied your every move meticulously like you assume? Had Art passed comment on your form? Did he think you were any good?

Tennisguy779's lineup changed quickly to "Art Donaldson Career Highlights" and you felt your chest constrict. An inexplicable feeling washed over you.

Like you'd been caught with God's forbidden fruit.

Your roommate had tried to question why you'd effectively flown off the couch, only to be met with a muttered 'goodnight' as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

Thin walls meant you drifted off to sleep that night with the rhythmic sounds of Art, grunting his way through an ATP Challenger.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

-

The Donaldson's tennis court was down a steep set of stairs, set back into an oasis of lush greenery.

Perfect for a 6-year-old's first lessons.

You didn't know if it was the grand balcony that overlooked the court or the fact a well-manicured Tashi stood atop it, but you felt positively observed.

Lily was in the midst of showing you how she could do a cartwheel (she couldn't) when the voice in the back of your head started echoing a promise of $80/h.

"Alright, lets channel some of that into your elbow."

Give a six-year-old a racquet half the size of her and she's going to blow effective chunks, but at least she has the spirit. Maybe it's her energy, maybe it has been a while since you've been on the court-

The kid's running you ragged.

Coupled with her height, you're spending more time bent over than you are up straight and it's all going to your head. All you can hope is Tashi isn't up there watching you stumble after the ball.

But you're sure there are eyes on your back.

Lily is a quick learner and you work out a tradeoff of one tennis skill for one spinning heel kick (mandatory that you watch).

Roll on 6pm and she's dog-tired, however, she's managed to hit the ball at least twice. Surely that's earned your keep. She lays star-fished on the turf and murmurs something about a piggyback.

You know you're about to earn your keep.

By the top of the staircase, you're more than happy to hand over a Lily-shaped-sack-of-potatoes to Tashi's mother. As you emerge from behind an ornate gargoyle, your suspicions proved correct.

Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.

Left alone on the balcony with him, you're acutely aware of the fact he's standing between you and your exit, and he's just had a full show of you bent over and flitting about his tennis court.

That and you still haven't said so much as 'hello' to the man.

You dwell on it for a moment and then there's that feeling back in the pit of your stomach, like any minute you'll be caught with fruit in hand- in throat.

The Original Sin.

Luckily, Art made the decision for you, crossing the space to shake your hand. If he noticed the way your hand trembled, he didn't seem to mind.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

You wished you had more to say to him, or maybe something more intelligent. Something better than a quiet "and you."

He was the better conversationalist, thankfully. Head motioning to the court, he looked down his nose at you when he spoke.

It should've felt condescending. It didn't.

"How did she go out there?"

"Yeah, really good- not a Disney character I can't name now."

He laughed.

Really laughed, like the joke was better than it was.

Like there was a preening little flutter inside you that said "do it again!"

You shrugged your shoulders like making him happy came naturally as you squinted up at him, as if he was the sun.

"You were watching? You must've seen her picking it up?"

Because he was the expert. Because he is the champion.

He hummed as he nodded, eyes skywards like there might've been something more important behind the clouds.

"Must've been distracted."

Within an instant- his eyes flickered to your own and you were sure he watched them change. He must've seen something he liked, the corner of his lip quirked up before he spoke again.

"Come on, I'll sort your payment and then we'll let you get home."

And for whatever reason, his hand fit perfectly in the small of your back as he lead you inside.

-

And how quickly did you become a strange piece of furniture in the Donaldson's home- in their life?

An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.

An abstract piece on the wall for Art to admire when he passes it.

A projection of constellations across the ceiling to keep Lily bright behind the eyes.

At least you belonged- there was no doubt that this was where you belonged.

That wasn't to say your tennis skill had improved any, lesson after lesson you still couldn't wrap your head around why they'd even signed you on, let alone kept you.

"Ok, don't watch that one either- maybe just do what I say and not what I do."

You hadn't nailed a single one, at this point you couldn't blame Lily for skipping around pretending her racquet was a horse.

Wasn't like she'd be learning anything if she was paying attention.

"Ok, here we go just- ok right, when your parents ask how today went, please be kind."

"Your elbow is too low."

It was a miracle you didn't scream.

Art entered the court with a swagger that you could only assume struck fear when he was your opponent.

Right now it struck pure embarrassment and Lily wasn't helping.

"Daddy, she didn't hit a single one!"

"Alright, I don't think daddy needs to know that-"

"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."

Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.

Lily and her racquet took off for another tour of The Grand National as Art approached you with quiet determination.

It was like waiting for impact, his eyes never wavered off his daughter as he made towards you. At the last moment, he snapped his attention in your direction- with a smile that should've felt condescending.

It wasn't.

"If your elbow is too low you lose topspin and power."

If you deserved the $80/h you were earning, you might've known that.

As Art stepped up to you, the turn of the planets on their axis slowed down and it could've been entirely possible to believe it was only you two.

And Lily upon her trusty steed.

The gallops of her tennis shoes thinned out as Art placed one hand around your elbow, lifting it higher. His other hand held your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest.

"Lily, go find grandma."

Then it really was just you two.

Your heart hammered against the shell of your ribcage, blood rushing around your ears as you felt Art's chin perch at your shoulder.

"If your elbow is high enough," His hand lifted it up and you let it stay there. "And your hip is turned."

He didn't have to say it with the gravel in his voice, but he did. He didn't have to hold your hips as he moved them, but he did. He didn't have to stay without so much of an inch between the two of you, but he did.

With one hand in the curve of your waist, he tossed the ball into the air with the other- then he whistled.

Like the obedient thing you didn't know you were, you raised the racquet and sent the ball flying through the air without even blinking.

As the streak of green hit the court and rolled away, you found yourself lying in wait, as if you were waiting for something- your next command?

"Good girl."

There it was.

Under the all consuming effect that Art Donaldson just seemed to have on people, you'd entirely forgotten you were in a position you could be 'caught' in. By his all consuming wife, of all people.

So, you should've moved.

Quite honestly you should've straightened up and cleared your throat and thanked him and told him it was time for you to go home.

You should've moved.

But Art wasn't moving. If anything he was staying purposefully still at your backside.

Obedient thing you seem to be.

"Show me that again?"

So,

You teach Lily the bare basics of tennis for three hours and receive $80 on the hour.

Then Art spends three hours of his spare time teaching you to perfect your swing- in a way that couldn't ever vaguely resemble professional.

A simple transactional arrangement.

Your tennis improves on a slow but sure basis and he gets the most off-court action he's seen since college.

Even if it is just heavy petting on astro-turf.

A hand under the hem of a tennis skirt. A pressing hip against your own. A deep breath as your hair brushes past him.

You figure Art will take what he can get.

And it's never enough to raise alarm. Sure, there's that fluttering in your chest that warns you might get 'caught' but you're never quite sure what one might 'catch' if they found you out.

It's undoubted who that 'one' is though.

The one who holds the cards- holds the throat, maybe.

Tashi, who's presence precedes her perhaps more than her reputation. Even when she isn't there, she's there.

So, when Art's hand lingers too long on the outside of your thigh and you think you can feel it verging into the territory that'll change everything- it's Tashi on your mind.

You're beginning to think your conscience sounds a lot like Tashi.

-

Who are you if not obedient to the Donaldson's?

Chasing Lily around a court.

Adhering to Tashi's every request.

Being Art's fantasy.

Being Art's.

Most of the time, anyway. Three hours a week.

Something to keep him bright behind the eyes, maybe. Something to keep him happy. Something to keep him-

Winning?

He tells you he plays better with you around. The way he says it makes you giggle, a girlish little noise that sort of just slips out. He serves the ball with his eyes on you and, sure enough, it lands smack where he wanted it too.

Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.

Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.

Until, well- until they weren't.

"Would you like a coffee?"

Tashi's mother had taken Lily off to bed, leaving you and Art separated by an island. Kitchen island.

He braced both palms against it as he watched you watch the door, wondering if you should cut and run, wondering if someone else might come through it.

Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.

"Yes please."

Even he looked surprised, brows raising an inch as he turned to the Nespresso machine. You took the moment to watch his back, the muscles moving under the cool-dry fabric of his shirt.

You spent all your time pretending not to notice him that actually allowing yourself the chance to study him made you lightheaded.

Had he always looked this captivating?

He broke your focus with a coffee cup, sliding it towards you as he rounded the bench. His eyes didn't even waver off you as he took a sip of his own.

It wasn't lost on you that he managed to tongue foam off the tip of his nose.

This was the longest you'd stuck around after a tennis lesson, longest you'd allowed yourself to be in his presence. You weren't quite sure how big this thing could get.

Your mouth was opening before your brain had decided it was a good idea.

"Mr. Donaldson-"

"Art."

"Uh, Art- I really appreciate the help you've been giving me- uh, you know- with tennis."

He placed his coffee mug down, nodding as he did it. "My pleasure."

Naturally.

That brain of yours was still firing off at a mile a minute. There was a very tiny voice right at the back that said it was up to you how this night would end- you had a choice to make.

Placing your coffee mug beside his, you scanned his face to find him already looking at you. Perhaps the choice was already set.

Maybe it was fate.

All he said was your name, it could've been the way he said it- but your whole body was losing the rigidity it'd formed when he first asked you to stay longer. When he'd made the choice.

Crossing the small gap between you two, Art was careful to keep one hand on the kitchen bench as the other hovered beside you. Not touching you,

Yet.

One step closer and the tip of Art's nose was touching yours. You think you might've been able to smell the coffee off his breath.

It thinned out- leaving you with his sweat. Musk. Art.

A sudden surge of morals overcame you, your voice broke out as a gasp.

"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"

"Actually, it's still Duncan."

You screamed.

Right in his face.

Tashi's voice made you jump out of your skin.

However, Art didn't move. As you turned your head to gauge the way his wife stalked across the kitchen, you felt his nose brush against your cheek.

Tashi retrieved a tall bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, taking a poignant sip as her eyes flitted between the two of you.

What a fucking sight.

Her husband, eyes shut and face pressed pathetically to their daughter's tennis instructor- his hands itching to close around your waist.

You, young and bleary eyed looking utterly caught. Staring up at her like she might decide your fate.

It took all your strength to find your words.

"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”

“No, of course not. You’re frankly terrible at tennis.”

There's the Tashi you were expecting.

Her words should've stung, but they didn't. They couldn't, not when her husband was laying his hands against your back and rubbing soothing circles down the length of your spine.

Not when his lips were mouthing wet kisses along your cheek.

Not when she was right. Spade's a spade.

"Why am I here?"

She snorted, a real dissatisfactory sound- like she hoped you were smarter than that. She was halfway to her bedroom before she cut you loose.

"Careful, he makes that sound before he cums."

-

And he had, just like she'd said.

Art had cum in his shorts, pressed up against your thigh with his face still smushed against your own.

And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.

You'd stood there and let him hump your leg like a bad dog and you'd even pat his head and whispered kind words in his ear after the mess he'd made.

Then you slipped out the front door to your car and you'd pretended not to notice that there were two bedroom lights on upstairs.

You hadn't even divulged the freaky details to your roommate when you got home.

But the showerhead knew all about them.

Visions of Art on the clouds of steam- replayed in your head the sounds he'd made right in your ear.

How he'd whimpered your name when he splashed his boxers like a fucking teenager.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

You even showed up next day, valiantly. You didn't run for the hills or even straight to a tabloid about how weird the Donaldson's really were.

And maybe that's why you hadn't told your roommate either.

Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?

That'd mean you'd have to admit your dirty little secret.

You loved it.

When you showed up, something was different. No usual chatter in the house, no shoes by the front door. You checked out the front window to see what you'd missed when you arrived.

Tashi's car was gone.

"She's taken her mom and Lily to the ballet."

At least you didn't scream this time.

You were lucky your back was to him, lest he see the self-righteous little smile that broke when the words settled.

"Oh, ok."

"I'll see you on the court."

Oh, ok.

Lest he see the disappointment that took over.

Following him close behind, you didn't know why you were effectively surprised that he still wanted to continue with your lessons. You'd half expected- hoped, he'd bend you over the kitchen island.

Tennis was fun too, you guess.

Thinking about it, something that bold didn't seem the style of the man who'd nearly blacked out rubbing up on you. Beckoning you onto the tennis court with two fingers and a wry smile did, however.

You fell into your usual position, hip turned and elbow curved on your side of the court. You waited for him to appear behind you, chest melding into the curve of your back.

It never came.

Art took long strides towards the net, vaulting it in one smooth motion. He ended up parallel to you, waiting with a ball and racquet in either hand.

The smile had left his face, a rather blank expression taking over as he sized you up. And there was that fear- knowing what it felt like to be on the wrong side of him.

This was going to hurt.

From the moment he pressed the ball to the neck of his racquet, it was all over. Your feet were never in one place for more than a second, your arms burned above you, your head permanently on a swivel.

Art didn't look like he'd broken more than a sweat.

You knew he had, you could see it in the neck of his shirt. But he didn't look it.

He looked calm, he looked in control, he looked-

Like he was enjoying himself.

For every rally that you managed, you thought you saw an inkling of pride set in his features.

For every serve that you missed, you knew you saw unbridled lust.

Not a point scored in your favour, you hit the ball towards him one last time before you collapsed to the turf. Flat on your back, reminiscent of your first lesson here.

You watched the clouds shift over your head, listening to your pulse thick and fast in your ears. Just underneath it, you could hear footfalls approaching.

No hurry, but impending.

Soon, the sun above you was eclipsed by Art Donaldson. His golden hair shone with the halo of light behind it.

Now this was God's favourite.

"You can't be giving up this easily?"

Forcing a laugh, you threw your arm up and over your eyes. "Wanna bet?"

Turns out he did- turns out Art struggled to do anything but win.

Somehow, you found it within yourself to stand back up. This time it was only a practice, you weren't brave enough to face off against him another round.

This was more your speed.

The hand that wasn't holding your elbow was curving around your front, the pleats of your tennis skirt lifting over his fingers. You felt a warm hand slowly moving across the front of your underwear.

Two fingers migrated south, pressing against the seam of you- he must've felt the pure heat radiating beneath his fingertips.

Turning your head even an inch, you found the curve of his nose pressing into your cheek.

"I didn't give up."

He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.

"Mmm, you didn't."

The hand sans-racquet dropped between your thighs to press his palm into your cunt. It was Art who flexed your fingers and cupped it.

"Where's my prize?"

There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.

But there was Art between your legs, slinging a knee over each shoulder like he might've been the real winner.

You'd never been inside the 'changing shed' behind the court, of course it was nicer than your actual home.

Your head made contact with the hard wood behind you, bench digging into your ass as you felt a hot mouth moving against the seat of your underwear.

Running your fingers through his hair, your gripped the ends of it- tugging him closer until you felt the flat of his tongue through the thin fabric.

Needy fingers tugged the ruined garment down your thighs, tucking him into the pocket of his shorts. You knew all too well that you'd never see them again.

You were sure Art would be seeing a lot of them.

His tongue ran up the split, one long stroke before you felt the curve of his nose press to your clit. The ridge of it moved as his tongue retreated back to your entrance.

With everything he had.

Your eyes had been rolling back in your head as you arched your back, the moment you were able to find a semblance of control- your gaze fell before you.

Naturally, Art was already looking up at you. Two hands splayed across each side of your hips as he pulled back to wrap his lips around your clit.

You couldn't help the hazy little smile on your face as you watched his eyes.

Utterly devotional.

The more you tugged on his hair, the hungrier he seemed. Pulling from the root seemed to spur him on, seemed to tell him 'good job' and he was responsive.

His tongue flicked beneath your clit, pressing it to his upper lip as he brought two fingers to your entrance. He stroked a couple times, making your hips twitch against him, before he sunk in to the last knuckle.

Turns out Art had a style about him. One he brought to the tennis court and, seemingly, to the floor of his changing shed.

The style was calculated.

Every move he made was engineered to get something out of you- a reaction, a whimper, a twitch. He was doing what he did best.

Playing a game.

Art struggled to do anything but win.

"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."

"Art."

Even muffled against your cunt, you were good at following his orders. Even more so when he was the decider of your imminent orgasm.

You threaded your fingers in the sides of his hair, pulling his face flush against you so you could ride his mouth. Taking every last thing from him you could.

It drew the most pathetic moan you'd ever heard, straight out of his chest and hit you straight at your core. The burning coil tight within your stomach was unraveling quickly.

You heard the murmurings of words, among the blood rushing in your ears. Easing up just enough, you let him pull back to speak.

"Tell me this feels good, please."

Your chest thumped, the sight of Art helpless between your legs was one thing. Hearing him beg?

You might black out.

"Art- you feel so fucking good," Dragging him right back where you needed him, the tip of his tongue drove against your clit. "You're gonna' make me cum."

He whined.

A heady drawn-out sound that quite literally sent you over the edge. Your hips lifted off the bench, the heel of your foot digging into his back and making his whine turn into a whimper.

Your orgasm broke you apart until it felt like white-hot flame licking up your sides. Of course, Art never relented, drinking in everything you could give him- literally.

The moment you felt the peak begin to subside, the urge was ramping right back up. Like he knew what he was doing, his eyes locked back onto yours as he sucked at your clit.

He was going for gold.

A quick second orgasm hit, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thighs clenched around Art's head, his hands coming to each of them.

You relaxed yourself a bit, feeling like it might be too much- until you felt him pressing your thighs even harder to either of his ears.

Oh, ok.

Art Donaldson knew what he liked.

You physically had to push him off you, watching him fall back on his outstretched palms as you let yourself breathe for what felt like the first time.

Wet eyes, wet chin, chest rising and falling like he'd run a marathon- Art sat sprawled out before you like he'd stumbled upon an alter (he had).

Breathless, you gestured towards him. Your hand dropped a little as your eyes fell between his legs, wordlessly offering a deal.

A deuce.

His cheeks flushed, more so than they already were. His eyes fell an infinitesimal amount before he spoke up.

"Uh- I already have."

Of course he had. He makes that sound before he cums.

Instead, you heard him shuffle back onto his knees as he all but crawled towards you. He draped his upper half into your lap, head resting against the soft cotton of your skirt.

Coming off the other side of a high, the reality of your situation began to settle for you. Why they'd really called you here- what purpose you really served.

All you could do was gently stroke a hand across Art's head, feeling him go limp against you. Boneless, but not spineless.

He must've known you were going to speak, he must've heard the intake of breath or just felt you shift. He cut you to the chase- beat you to the punchline.

Art nuzzled his face further into your lap as you felt him mumble against your thigh.

"I can't lose- you."

[gallavichsreddie1128]

You Belong With Me (Patrick Zweig)

Description: Y/N is in love with Patrick but is convinced he doesn’t feel the same

Word Count: 2,007k

Author’s Note: Please send in requests! I have a few that I’m working on right now but I’m open to whatever

Y/N was in love with Patrick Zweig. She has been since they first met. She met him and Art at a Tennis game and they became close friends. They were a trio and everyone knew it. There was even rumors that they were all fucking each other but unfortunately that wasn’t true. Patrick loved sleeping around but the idea of fucking Y/N never seem to cross his mind. Art saw how Y/N looked at Patrick and he knew that she loved him. Y/N was super jealous anytime that Patrick got a girlfriend or bragged about hooking up with someone. Anytime she’d ask him why he was telling her any of this he just told her that “you’re one of the guys.” That hurt.

She had to hide back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes as she gave him a fake smile. He never saw her like that. It got so much worse when Tashi Duncan came into their lives. Both boys were swooning over her and it made Y/N jealous. Tashi was nice to Y/N though. She teased her about her friendship with both guys but never had any ill feelings towards her. Patrick and Art reassured Tashi that y/n was just a friend after the homewrecker comment. Y/N had to hide her jealousness and sadness hearing about the night the three of them had together. Patrick wouldn’t shut up about it but like a good friend Y/N just told him that was crazy and awesome for him.

“Yeah she said whoever won our tennis game could get her number.” Y/N hoped that he lost it. He didn’t and thus began Tashi and Patrick’s relationship. Y/N watched them be all lovey dovey while her and Art were seething. Art had it bad for Tashi and y/n wasn’t oblivious to it. Y/N and Art went to Tashi’s game together and waited for Patrick. “Where is he?” Y/N asked. Art decided to text him and got a response back moments later. “They are fighting so he’s not coming.” Y/N sorta felt happy that they were fighting but she knew that was wrong.

She could see on Art’s face that he felt the same way. Y/N gasped as Tashi broke her knee. Her and Art got up immediately and ran to her. Her cries and screams sounded awful and Y/N felt so bad. Her and Art sat with her when Patrick arrived. Tashi screamed at him to get out but he wouldn’t listen so Art did, “Get out Patrick.” Patrick looked at them and looked at Y/N. She opened her mouth but words didn’t come so he walked out. Y/N debated on going after him but knew it wasn’t right. She would have to talk to him later. “Why didn’t you say anything in the room?” He asked her as he showed up to her room.

She wanted to scream that she loved him and she was tired of being one of the guys but didn’t. “I don’t know. Everything just happened so fast.” She said softly. “He wants her, you know that right?” “What?” “Art wants her so he caused all of this.” Y/N looked at him confused. “What do you mean Art caused this?” “The whole reason we were fighting was because of Art and cuz I suck at Tennis?” Y/N was shocked that Art would be the cause. Did Tashi like Art? “You don’t suck at Tennis.” She tells him. He smiles but shakes his head. “According to her I do.” “Well she’s wrong.” Y/N thought that he was great at Tennis. Art and him kinda had a fallout after that but Y/N still kept in contact especially since they all went to the same college and even after that.

Patrick was a mess that Y/N had to clean up constantly. “Thanks for being here.” He says to her as they drive to a hotel. “No problem.” “Are you sure you don’t mind paying? I’ll pay you back as soon as I get the money.” She laughs and shakes her head. “All good.” They got to the hotel and y/n paid. Y/N had a big girl job and never went pro in Tennis but still made a lot of money. “Are you hungry?” She asked as they got to the hotel room. “Yeah, a lot.” “Let’s go get some food then.” She said. While they were getting food she got a text from Tashi that told her they would be at the challengers. Y/N jaw dropped and looked up at Patrick who was scarfing down the food they got.

“So I have some news and I don’t know if you’re going to like it.” She says. He looks at her with a mouth full of food. He motions for her to keep talking. “Art is going to be there. Playing against you.” Patrick almost chokes on his food. “What?” He asked, Y/N nodded. “Tashi just texted me.” Y/N was excited to see her old friends. Patrick wasn’t. “Girl it’s so good to see you.” Tashi said and hugged her old friend. Y/N hugged her back and said the same. “Hi Y/N.” Art said and hugged her. “I missed you both so much.” “Did Tashi tell you that I was here?” Art asked, not knowing that Patrick was here. “Yes.” Y/N gulped. Neither of them knew of Patrick’s presence. “Awesome! I’m glad you came. I have to go practice.” He said and walked away.

Tashi looked at Y/N suspecting something. She never was good at hiding anything. “What is it?” Tashi asked. Y/N looked at her and shrugged. “I just can’t believe you guys are here.” Tashi raised an eyebrow at her. “He’s here isn’t he?” Y/N nodded and Tashi rolled her eyes. “He was here before you guys were. I got your text at the hotel.” She told her. “Art’s gonna freak out and think that I planned it all.” “I don’t think Art’s gonna think that.” Y/N tried telling her. “We gotta keep them away from each other.” Y/N agreed. Patrick won all of the rounds leading up to the finales as did Art. For the most part they hadn’t seen each other but knew that they were there. As Y/N and Patrick were drinking and talking he kept looking away from her and staring at something else.

“What’s wrong?” She asked him and he snapped out of it. “Nothing.” He lied. Y/N looked behind her and saw Tashi. She looked back at him with a “really?” face. He sighed, “She’s married.” Y/N exclaimed. He nodded and understood but still got up to go talk to her. Y/N could tell that the conversation wasn’t a pleasant one. Tashi seemed annoyed and when Patrick came to sit back down he told her, “She wants me to stay away from Art.” “I do too.” He looked at his best friend, “What?” She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Patrick it’s not good for you guys to be around each other and for you to be all over her still.” “I’m not all over her!” “Patrick, yes you are. You have to let her go.” She was right. “I asked her to be my coach.” Y/N’s jaw dropped. “You did not?” He nodded his head. “I did and I think she might do it.” Y/N sighed, “You’re a dumbass.” She breathes out. “It could be good for me,Y/N.” She knew that Patrick wanted her and it disgusted her. She sighed and shook her head, “I don’t know what’s good for you, Patrick.” Though that night he got exactly what he wanted.

With a price of course that he wasn’t even sure he was going to do. “I want you to lose.” Tashi said to him. He wanted to laugh in her face but he also wanted to fuck her so he was in between. “I’ll do it.” He ended up telling her but there was always a I’ll do it but you have to do…with Patrick. So when it was all said and done Tashi looked up at him. “She loves you, you know.” He looked down at the woman with confusion written all over his face. “Who?” She rolled her eyes. “Y/N.” Patrick didn’t believe that, not even for a second. “Yeah right.” He said and pushed Tashi off him the best that he could.

She sat up and huffed. “I know it’s ridiculous that she loves someone like you but it’s true.” “And you fucked me? Knowing this.” “I’m not her best friend, you are.” He sat up as well. “Okay let’s say that you’re right. Why haven’t I noticed?” She looked at him like he was stupid. “Cuz you’re stupid.” He took in her words as they sat in his car. Was his best friend really in love with him? “Why hasn’t she told me yet? It’s been 15 years.” “Cuz Patrick you’ve been with girl after girl. She doesn’t think you feel the same way.” 

He got back to the hotel around 2:30 am. Y/N sat on the bed waiting for him. He opened the door to be greeted by her. “Where were you?” She asked in a whisper. “Out.” She rolled her eyes, “clearly but what were you doing?” “Tashi wants me to throw the competition.” He ignores her question. She sighed. “Of course you were with her. Patrick she’s married she doesn’t need you to fuck things up for her.”

“You act like she didn’t call me to hook up.” Y/N stood up from the bed. “She what? You what?” He rolled his eyes. “We had sex okay? But only so I would lose tomorrow.” “Patrick, that's not okay at all. That’s really shitty.” “You know what else is shitty? Not telling your best friend that you’ve been in love with him for 15 years.” Her eyes widened at his words. “What?” She whispered. “You’re in love with me and you’ve been for 15 years!” She breathed out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding.

“I am. But I shouldn’t be. I mean you’re a bum, Patrick. And it seems like you use me and even though I know I shouldn’t. I do and I would die for you, Patrick. But you love her and you always have and you always will. I’m just one of the guys to you.” She had tears in her eyes as she said those things. Patrick looked at her, “you really feel that way about me?” He asked. “Yes but I still love you. I’ll always love you Patrick Zweig.” She said. He walked up to her and cupped her face. The tears that were falling from her face landing on his hand. “I’m such an idiot.” “What?” He kissed her, hard and full of passion.

She kissed him back like she waited 15 years for this kiss. Standing in the room, in the moonlight as they moved their lips together until they need air. “But Tashi. You love her.” He shook his head. “No I don’t.” He said and kissed her again. This time they fall onto the bed not breaking the kiss. She moved to straddle him, not breaking the kiss. His hands moved up her back and hers placed on his chest. She moved to cup his jaw and deepened the kiss.

This was a dream come true for her. No matter how shitty he was, she would always love him. She pulled away from the kiss and started kissing his neck. “Wait stop.” He said and she pulled away, confused. “What’s wrong?” She asked. “You don’t deserve this.” She stared at him with the same look. “I want to take you on a date before we have sex.” She was shocked by his words. Patrick was never known to be a date guy. “After I win tomorrow. I will take you out.” “So you aren't throwing it?” He shook his head. “Hell No.” He said, making her laugh. “And if you lose?” “I’ll still take you out.” “You’ll pay?” He nodded and kissed her again. “I’ll pay.”

[chiaraanatra]

Perrito

∘₊✧────✧₊∘ ! 18+ MINORS DNI ! ∘₊✧───✧₊∘

Request: I apologize that I can't find the asks to save my life... but one asked for sub AJ and the other was for reader to be on top so I combined to two! Whoever asked for this I hope you enjoy! I had a wild time writing this one!

Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI! Porn without plot, Sub!AJ, Dom!reader, reader is a bit of a tease and AJ is desperate, p in v (w/out protection), AJ speaks Spanish, pet names (Spanish equivalent of puppy, princess, goddess, love), mentions of tattoos (on AJ not reader), no use of Y/N. (My Spanish is not great and that itself should be a warning, I apologize)

Word Count: 1.1k

AN: I dont know if this is what was expected from the request but I hope those of you who like AJ will enjoy. Thank you for the request and thanks to my boyfriend, Jay, for being my source material for all the smut I write. You are truly doing God's work.

HC: AJ is a dom-leaning switch, you cannot and will not change my mind! My man is also Hispanic because the idea of him talking dirty in Spanish kills me!

《 m.list || ao3 》

AJ couldn't recall how he ended up in this predicament; on the couch with you sitting on his lap, your hand holding his wrists above his head as you kissed up and down his exposed neck, grinding your clothed hips against his.

Your suggestion came out of nowhere, at least that's what it felt like to him. "How would you feel about me taking control? Like I was the dominant one?"

AJ turned to you with a skeptical smile, "And why would you want to do that, Princesa?"

"I don't know, just for something different? You always take care of me, maybe I want a turn taking care of you." The smile on your face was sweet, but AJ could see the lust in your eyes.

And now here he was, letting out soft groans as you continued to grind against his lap, hands still positioned above him. AJ could easily pull out of your grasp and take control, but he didn't. He allowed you to do as you please, torturing him with sweet kisses while he begged for more. "Por Dios, amor... I need to touch you..."

"Not yet, perrito." You smile at the soft whimpers that escaped his lips and the flush of pink that graced his cheeks. He couldn't tell if it was the name or the Spanish that set his body on fire, but he knew he needed more.

"Por qué no?" AJ could hardly recognize his voice, it sounded so needy and desperate, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Please... Whatever you want, lo que sea... Just please take off these clothes and let me touch you..."

"So desperate...” your voice was sultry. “Sit up," Normally he was the one giving orders, but without hesitation, AJ did what he was told, leaning his back against the back of the couch. Still perched on his lap, your fingers teased down his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Once undone, your hands ran their way over each tattoo, admiring the art that was strewn across his toned body.

You leaned in pressing your lips to his. The kiss was far too soft and slow for his liking, but he didn't attempt anything for fear you would pull away. "Fuck..." AJ let out a soft moan as you bit his lower lip, pulling it slightly.

You leaned in close, licking the shell of his ear before whispering, "I'm going to ride you till I'm satisfied." You kissed down his sharp jaw to the other side of his face. "You are still not allowed to touch me. But if you're good, I'll let you do whatever you want."

He groaned at the idea of not touching you, but his voice filled with curiosity, "Whatever I want...?"

"Yes, perrito." He whimpered at the name. "Touch me... fuck me..." Each word you spoke was accentuated by open-mouthed kisses along his neck. "Whatever your heart desires, so long as you're a good boy for me. Can you do that?"

"I’ll be good, please... Prometo... I-I promise I'll be good..." This was downright embracing. AJ was at your mercy. His voice was shaky, sounding nothing like the unwavering, confident man that everyone knew. But he could care less if you saw this side of him.

You wasted little time removing your soaked panties and undoing his pants, revealing his already hardened cock. You couldn't help but tease him a little more, rubbing his tip against your wet folds. When even you couldn't take the teasing any longer, you slowly sank down on his length, feeling him stretch your silken walls.

Once you settle on his cock, you gaze down at AJ. You could swear his eyes rolled back. Regardless of how many times he had been inside you, each felt better than the last. He firmly believed that your pussy was made for him.

He took an unsteady breath before looking at you. You were perfect and he gazed upon you as if he was looking at God. He couldn't help but admire your beauty. Every curve, every breath, everything about you was enthralling. "Muévete..."

"Now, now," you tried to keep your voice as steady as possible, "Ask nicely."

"P-por favor, diosa...P-por favor muévete... Te necesito..." AJ's mind was gone. You almost felt sorry for teasing him so much, however, this was exactly where you wanted him.

You began to bounce up and down on his cock. You leaned forward, running your fingers through his hair, finally tossing that ridiculous hat to the floor, before nipping at the tattoos that littered his neck.

Whimpers and moans mixed with Spanish continued to fall from his lips. You both were unsure how much more of this either of you could take. Both close to falling off the edge and coming undone.

You took notice of AJ's hands, fiercely gripping the back of the couch, knuckles turning white. You paused for just a moment taking his hands and placing them on your skin, knowing both of you needed to feel one another.

His blue eyes widened, almost as if to ask permission. "Yes, perrito, you can touch me." Without hesitation, hands were all over you, pulling you closer to him as he rocked up into you. The slight adjustment in angle had his cock hitting against the soft spongy spot inside of you causing you to gasp in pleasure, legs feeling like they would give out any moment, "Fuck I'm close, AJ... so close...!"

AJ mumbled against your shoulder, "Tan cerca... tan cerca... tan jodidamente cerca...!" With a few more thrusts you were both falling into release. You were gripping onto one another for dear life as your orgasm washed over you and AJ painted your walls with his cum.

You fell forward into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder while your hot breath ghosted over his neck.

AJ was the first to speak, "Wow... that was... that was different..."

Your fingers danced along his chest, tracing his tattoos, "Different bad..?"

"No!" He said, a bit too eagerly for his liking. "No. Different good." He ran his fingers up and down your spine, soothing your damp skin. "Perrito was a nice touch, by the way."

"I was wondering how you would feel about that." You couldn't help but giggle.

"You know..." You looked up at AJ curious of his next words. However, he refused to meet your gaze, pink dusting across his cheeks. "Next time, you might have to tie me up if I'm not allowed to touch you. I don't know if I could have the same restraint." He bit his lip, trying to stop himself from enjoying the idea too much.

You kissed his lips, "I think that could be arranged."

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Hayden Taglist: @bimbo-baggins86 @espinathena-17

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[gayfromusa]

Climbing Partners

[ Art from ksk199999 on DeviantArt, story by me ]

Brandon and Jordan (both 21) had been climbing buddies for about three years. Jordan always wanted a higher, tougher climb, and Brandon was always went along. Brandon loved the time he spent with his buddy, but wasn’t always enthusiastic about traveling so frequently to the mountains each summer. While he enjoyed the challenge, sometimes he just wanted to relax in the sun for a week instead of busting his ass climbing as a vacation.

On one sunny summer day at Brandon’s apartment pool during their breaks from college, Jordan asked Brandon about going for another climb.

“Hey man, how do you feel about going for a climb this weekend?”

“That sounds like a great time, but why don’t we just chill by the pool this weekend? I’d love to just hang with you. We can totally go on a climb next weekend though.” Brandon responded.

While his request was very reasonable, Jordan still couldn’t let go of the idea of reaching a new death-defying height and seeing the incredible views. Jordan made his point known to Brandon, “Dude, there’s always more time to relax, we won’t always be able to climb. C’mon, let’s do it dude.”

Just before Brandon could say something, he got a spam on his phone reading, “Buy now! The brand new Size Gun uses atomic energy technology to transform the size of those around you, to any height within the range! Only $50! Get it before the price goes up!” He showed Jordan before he tried to delete it.

“Dude, look at this bullshit!” Brandon laughed.

Jordan smiled, “Imagine if that was real dude, we could both have the weekend we want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you could relax all day by the pool, and I could be shrunk to make you the size of a mountain. Honestly the view of your apartment complex would be spectacular from a new perspective.”

Brandon started thinking. It was Tuesday, he just got a bonus from last week’s paycheck, and Jordan was absolutely right. He honestly was excited at even the possibility of a real man being the size of a toy in his hand. “You know, what if this thing is legit? There has to be some sort of legal thing preventing them from selling this, so why not try and get my hands on it before they get caught? And honestly it’s so cheap for what it’s offering.”

“There’s no way though, right?”

“I don’t know man, but even if there’s a small chance, I’d bet something for it. Let’s see if this is real.” Right then, Brandon clicked the link and ordered the product. He put priority shipping on it. “It’ll be here Friday. If this thing doesn’t work, then we‘ll spend Saturday climbing and Sunday relaxing, deal?”

“Dude, I’m so in. This could be sick.”

——————

Friday came and a package arrived. Brandon spent the night figuring it out and texted for Jordan to come over the next morning for a surprise.

On Saturday, Jordan knocked on the door of the apartment, and Brandon opened. “Is it real dude?!” Jordan asked with excitement.

“Well come inside and see!”

Jordan walked in and closed the door. Brandon led him to the living room where on the table sat a sci-fi-looking gun of sorts. “How does it even work??”

“Well I tried reading the instructions to find out, but they were in Chinese. Found a YouTube video where they basically said they can’t release how it works due to it being such a new technology. Anyways, it only works on biological matter. It’s not able to make anyone taller than their normal height, unless someone else is shrunk, then the height can be transferred to whoever. The limit on shrinking is currently an inch tall. It’s also supposed to make the person a bit more durable than you expect since it makes them more dense, but the guy said to still be extremely careful if ever handling a shrunken person.”

“One inch seems a bit tiny for climbing you, maybe we could do two inches instead?”

“Yeah sure, but don’t be shocked if you get there later.”

Jordan laughed off that last comment, “Dude I am so excited. I’ve kept on thinking about everything ever since earlier this week. Can we test it out?”

“Yeah man! It connects to my phone, then I have to make a profile for you. I made one for myself already. I’ll input your height and scan you with the gun. I hope you’re chill with it man, you have to be naked for the scan.”

Jordan nodded his head.

“Alright go ahead and strip.”

Jordan blushed slightly while he awkwardly got naked. He heard Brandon say it only shrank biological matter, so he’d be naked when he shrinks anyways. He really did want a climbing challenge, and only brought up this idea as a joke. Now that he is about to actually be able to do this, he started thinking about Brandon’s body. Brandon stood at a good 6’0”, and Jordan at a below average 5’8”. Brandon had impressive muscles, and occasionally Jordan wished he could feel them, but always wanted to respect Brandon and never asked.

But now Jordan was going to feel Brandon’s muscles up close, for maybe even a few hours. Even more pressed in his mind was Brandon’s specific features he might get to climb on. His feet, his pecs, his biceps, and maybe even other parts of his body. Thinking about all this gave Jordan a boner that he didn’t even notice, and he was already in just his underwear.

“You excited for today lil’ buddy?” Brandon smirked.

“I-“ Jordan blushed a bright red.

“Hey dude it’s alright, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t gotten the thought of you as a living toy out of my head”

“Oh, uh.. then let’s do this.” Jordan nervously took off his underwear.

Jordan, fully nude, stood before Brandon. Brandon pointed the gun and a fast burst of light emitted from it. Brandon set it down, while Jordan clothed himself.

“Why are you getting dressed? Your clothes won’t shrink.” Asked Brandon

“I wanna feel them get bigger on me.” Jordan said.

Brandon chuckled a bit, “Fair enough I guess.”

Brandon looked at the app on his phone. Jordan filled his profile for the app. He input his height, weight, sex, his feet size, then left blank the desired height spot for Brandon to fill out.

“I wanna start by just making you just slightly shorter, just to see if it works, how does 5’0” sound to you?”

“I mean 8 inches seems like a lot, but yeah let’s do it!”

Brandon once again pointed the gun, he pressed the trigger and the light flashed. No sounds or anything.

“Did it work?” Asked Jordan.

“I think so.. it’s not supposed to be instant, but shouldn’t take too- oh there ya go.” Brandon noticed Jordan’s eyes shrink down a bit.

Jordan felt a sensation through his body. His previously snug shirt and shorts now a bit loose. “Holy fuck dude it worked!!” Jordan reacted.

“Damn dude, my shorty got even smaller.” Brandon jokingly smiled.

“Dude I wasn’t short before. 5’8” isn’t short.”

“Maybe, but an angry 5’0” sure is cute.” Brandon began to laugh a little bit started messing with his friend’s hair.

Jordan’s face got a bit red again, then he pushed Brandon’s hand off his head.

Brandon didn’t say anything, just smirked and started inputting stuff into the app again.

“Hey! What are you doing now?”

Brandon pointed the gun and fired the silent blast again. “Made you small enough so you can’t fight back.” Brandon smiled.

Before Jordan could do something, he felt the sensation and this time got a bit dizzy. He fell back a bit, then his shorts fell down his legs and he tripped on them “What the- how big am I now?” Sitting with his butt on the ground, Jordan looked up and saw a staggering figure. His friend seemed more than twice the size of a normal human. He began to cower a bit as Brandon’s hands reached down.

Brandon laughed at Jordan’s choice of words as he crouched down and helped the little guy up. “You’re 2 feet small now.” Brandon laughed once Jordan was on his feet, seeing the huge oversized shirt on his friend was hilarious. He snapped a picture then removed the shirt from Jordan. “There you are again! All your glory. Still excited I see.” Brandon poked Jordan’s dick, Jordan tried to fight Brandon’s hand again but ended up pushing himself back more than doing anything to stop Brandon.

“I- I’m so sorry Brandon,” Jordan tried his best to cover the hard-on, “This is all so new to me, and seeing you so huge is kinda turning me on. We can stop if you want to, I don’t wanna do anything you’re not okay with.”

“Well I saw your hard dick earlier too bud, I kinda figured this was turning you on. Now that you’re tiny I can say that this is also really hot to me. I’m not gonna stop, no matter what you’re going down to two inches.” Brandon said with a hint of seriousness that hadn’t been there before.

Jordan was shocked. Brandon was speaking with such authority over him. He felt like a child, any sense of control was lost in that tone. A fear set in, he was at the mercy of this man. There was nothing he could do to stop his friend if he wanted to. Thankfully he didn’t want to.

Brandon shot the gun at Jordan one final time, then Jordan passed out.

——————

After what seemed like hours, Jordan woke up. He was outside, laying on a cloth surface of some sort. It was hot outside, around 80 degrees Fahrenheit, so still pretty bearable.

Jordan sat up and looked around. He was on a humungous beach towel that was flat on the ground. He looked up and saw Brandon laying back on a pool chair in just his swimsuit. He was sound asleep with his hands behind his head, feet on the ground touching the opposite end of the towel.

Jordan grew excited, it was time to climb his friend. The moment he’d been waiting for. He began to run to Brandon’s right foot, realizing the distance, he slowed to a better pace.

Jordan had never in his life imagined a foot this massive. Size 13 was big, but it had never seemed this big. Still, once Jordan reached the foot he realized he could at least climb onto the foot with relative ease. The smell was prominent, but Jordan didn’t think it smelled bad by any means.

He paused though, and decided to explore the foot a bit before venturing upwards. Starting with the pinky toe, Jordan compared his own body to it, roughy half his size. He was amazed at the size. Moving to each bigger toe, Jordan found the sizes so hot. Reaching the big toe, he laid down next to it for a moment. It was bigger than he was. He stood up and bent over onto the toe and spread his arms, feeling the massive toenail. He then went to the side of the foot, and positioned himself under Brandon’s arch, nuzzling into the soft skin a bit, and noticed that Brandon was a bit sweaty already, just from laying in the heat. Jordan didn’t want to leave, but he decided to keep going before the sweat got too much worse.

Jordan got up and walked back to the pinky toe to climb onto the foot, and crawled his way towards the leg hair. The hairs didn’t contain a lot of traction, so Jordan had to sort of wrap one around his hand and pull himself up little by little. Getting past the knee, Brandon’s thigh was much easier due to the less harsh angle. It was still tough, but not as difficult.

He then reached the next challenge of his journey, Brandon’s swim shorts. They were made of a waterproof material without a lot of traction for the tiny man to grab onto, so Jordan decided to crawl under the shorts. What was one more detour? The man was seemingly sound asleep, and seemed pretty comfortable with Jordan’s hard-on earlier, so why not stop by and see Brandon’s beast for a moment?

Jordan slipped under the shorts and made his way towards it in the darkness. Before that, there was a sort of net/mesh barrier he needed to get through. Managing to push it up and squeeze underneath, he was safe from falling because of the barrier. The overwhelming musky scent of Brandon’s cock began to hit, it put Jordan into a horny state of mind. Climbing over just a bit more, he bumped into the semi-hard anaconda. Pausing for a moment to reflect on what he was doing, he continued. Jordan began to nuzzle up against it, and attempted to reach his arms around, but was far too small to reach around the girth. Still he tried to squeeze. It began to grow a bit harder from the sensation he was giving it, that’s when Jordan backed off and decided to keep going.

Climbing upwards a bit more another issue arose, the elastic band around the swim shorts were skin tight to Brandon’s waste. He went in arms and head first and tried to army crawl under the obstacle. It took a few minutes but eventually he crawled up the other side, revealing a glorious landscape Jordan rarely got to see; Brandon’s beautifully toned and tanned abs.

He paused to catch his breath, and at the same time turned around. Jordan saw the whole apartment complex’s pool space. Given it was a nice weekend day in the middle of summer, there was actually quite a few people. Some families, a lifeguard, and even some pretty big guys, all enjoying the pool and the sun. Thankfully Brandon picked a spot away from most people which wasn’t by the edge of the pool. He was the only person in this corner. Seeing all the ginormous people going about their day, not realizing a tiny person was climbing the man tanning in the corner, was intriguing.

Jordan wondered to himself if Brandon was going to grow him back after this. The way Brandon seemed so eager to have power over him made him wonder if he should climb down now and try and find someone who would certainly help him get back. Then Jordan realized, these people might not see him, they could crush him and just think he was a bug. But even if he found someone who wanted to help, Jordan couldn’t grow back without the mass stored in Brandon’s machine, and without Brandon’s app. Brandon had all the power, even if Jordan was in someone else’s hands.

He turned back to the giant he was climbing and accepted his fate, feeling someone content. Brandon would certainly grow him back, he beat himself up mentally for considering that Brandon didn’t have his best interest in mind. After all, Jordan asked for this. Besides, Brandon’s abs were hot. Jordan climbed up a bit onto his friend’s belly and laid there for a moment. Spreading himself and feeling the muscles. He then got up and kept going.

Knowing his end goal was the top of Brandon’s head, Jordan realized he could never climb straight up Brandon’s neck, he’d have to climb onto his biceps and forearm to reach Brandon’s head. But now Jordan felt he needed to hurry, if Brandon woke up, Jordan would certainly fall flat onto the concrete below.

But Jordan couldn’t help himself when he reached Brandon’s pecs, again he laid down for a moment then spread himself out between them. His mind going back and forth, Jordan got up and kept going. Finally being able to stand when reaching the collar bone, Jordan moved pretty quickly towards the bicep. He laid against the muscle for a moment, feeling it with his arms spread yet again, and then his footing slipped.

Jordan fell what felt like almost ten feet, but was actually just down to Brandon’s rank armpits. Definitely no deodorant used today, not that Jordan was complaining. He had caught himself using the armpit hairs. And used the same strategy from before, and began to wrap his hands around the hairs to secure himself and climb up. He made his way up and this time didn’t fondle with Brandon’s ginormous arms this time, and instead kept climbing.

Using the last bit of his strength, Jordan finally reached the end. And laid on top of Brandon’s head in relief. Immediately, Brandon’s massive hand made a move to scoop Jordan. The hand enclosed around him and Jordan could barely move. He struggled for a bit but gave up upon realizing Brandon was up and walking, likely back to the apartment.

——————

Brandon opened his hand and placed Jordan on the desk in his room. Jordan collected his composure to the best of his ability and stood up and watched Brandon.

Brandon walked around the room a bit, picked up an old pair of socks off the floor and placed them in the laundry. He then took off his swimsuit, this time turned around revealing his muscles butt to Jordan. He threw the swimsuit into the laundry then turned and went to stand at the end of the desk. Jordan while on the desk was eye level with the head of Brandon’s dangling cock. His dick now appeared much more massive when it was freed from its mesh cage.

Jordan stared at the dick in front of his face for a moment, then began to lean his head back to look up at Brandon. Brandon was looking down at him with a pondering look in his eyes.

“Just so you know, I was awake the whole time.” Brandon stated.

“So you almost let me fall off your bicep??” Jordan seemed shocked. Why wouldn’t Brandon save his friend?

Brandon replied, “You caught yourself, I almost flinched, but I’ve seen your reflexes before and knew you could handle it. But regardless, do you remember the other parts of the journey?”

“The uh- oh, um..”

“It seems you rather enjoyed my feet, my abs, my pecs, my biceps, and not to mention my eight inch cock. I’m glad you took a fascination to me.”

“Wait, why are we in your room? Are you going to grow me back?”

“Not today. We said the weekend, remember? I want to play with you since you got to play with me.”

“Brandon, I-“ Jordan was shocked. He was reminded of his powerlessness from Brandon’s tone of voice. He had never seen this side of Brandon before today, and felt completely helpless to do anything besides comply. His dick got hard again.

“Jordan you are enjoying this more than I am, let me have some fun, okay?” Brandon left the room for a moment and returned with the gun, “To be honest, I wish I could make you smaller than an inch, but it’ll have to do.” The light flashed and Jordan felt himself dwindle down even tinier.

Brandon picked up Jordan with a hand that now felt twice the size. Brandon sat down on the carpet of the room and opened his hand and smiled.

“You are so cute, I’m so glad we did this.” Brandon said with a bit of a smile.

Jordan felt uneasy and turned on at the same time. He didn’t want to be like this tiny all weekend, but that thought started to fade when Brandon set him down. He tried to figure out where for a moment, but then realized he was laying between Brandon’s feet that were placed together. Brandon winked at Jordan then closed his feet softly.

Jordan could opened his mouth a bit and could taste the sweat from the gargantuan feet. Brandon slowly rubbed his feet back and forth a little bit, which caused such a pleasurable sensation for Jordan that he began to moan. Brandon heard the moans and stopped, picking out Jordan from his feet and bringing him over to his armpit.

“You know, I probably could have saved you now that I think about it, my armpit is pretty soft and could have protected you pretty well. Hope you enjoy bud.” Brandon said with a smirk.

Jordan was placed in Brandon’s pit once again, this time when Jordan grabbed the hair from the pit, Brandon closed his arm shut. The smell was ten times more potent, and the feeling of being enclosed under such a monstrous bicep was magnificent. The heat, sweat, and pressure only added to the experience. He had never felt more comfort, safety, vulnerability, and helplessness all at once. It was wonderful.

Jordan expected this to only last a minute or so, but instead it went on for ten or fifteen as Brandon walked around with Jordan before he could finally breathe normally again. He was plucked out of the pit, now smelling like it from the sweat, and held in front of Brandon again.

“I hope you enjoyed, I think I felt you ejaculate almost as soon as I closed my arm, but you’re still hard. Guess you wanna keep going.”

Brandon then brought his hand with Jordan in it down to the his dick. Without hesitation, Brandon grabbed his cock with the hand he was holding Jordan in, and began to masturbate. The cock was fully erect already, and Brandon slowly moved his hand up and down with Jordan being used as a sex toy.

Brandon then stopped for a moment to set Jordan down onto the desk once more, before continuing to masturbate at an increased speed and harder grip. Jordan sat watching the event transpire, only realizing a second before the climax what was about to happen as Brandon came all over Jordan’s helpless body, knocking him down. Brandon moaned as he released the cum.

He grabbed Jordan and brought him up to his mouth where he licked off the cum from Jordan’s back, then his front. The mouth and tongue were so huge to Jordan, and he could hardly process what was happened as he was receiving a sensory overload. When the second lick happened, Jordan came again.

Jordan was set on the desk once more as Brandon sat down in his chair and looked at Jordan. Brandon was smiling and had a look of glee in his eyes, “That was amazing, thank you for coming up with the idea for this weekend. I’m so glad I have you.”

[lordofthetwistedflies]

Hey there! I was wondering if you could do something with an artist reader that is really hard on herself about her art? Like stressin over due dates bc nothing meets her expectations? Sorry if thats really specific lol. You can make it more broad if thats better, you just capture the feeling of characters the best :)

Maybe with Alphonse, Bakugou, and whoever else you want in whatever form you like best (fic, hc, etc.)

Thanks! Your awesome!

Gonna be honest, I completely forgot I put BNHA on my list and Bakugo isn't a character I consider myself skilled with, but YOU REQUESTED IT AND THEREFORE I SHALL PROVIDE

Also filled in that last spot with Satoru Gojo because WHY TF NOT ITS 2 AM I DO WHAT I WANT

"A Masterpiece in the Eyes of the Beholder"

Alphonse

He idly tells you that he thinks your shit is fire, and is deeply confused when you burst into tears over it.

He pets your hair, tells you that it's okay, asks you what's wrong.

You tell him, half coherent through your tears and cross-eyed from staring at your work too long, that it just doesn't look right, that something about it is off and if you just knew what it was you could fix it!!

He tries a few suggestions, but they aren't it.

He sights, brushes your hair from your face, and suggests you take a step back.

"How'sabout we take a little break... then you can get back to work with fresh peepers, mkay?"

Katsuki Bakugo

You're still working on that?

It looks fine, what's the hold up?

Oh, somethings wrong?

Bullshit. This is just an excuse to be a total nerd about something inconsequential.

You groan, telling him that your deadline is coming up and there's still something off about it...

And he does not care.

He's sick of you locking yourself away over some stupid bullshit. What, your project matters more to you than him? Fuckin' artsy nerd...

He picks you up and basically drags you away from your work station, yelling the whole time. It's a very loving screaming match.

"YOU'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR-FUCKING-EVER, JUST GIVE IT A SEC- GODDAMN."

Satoru Gojo

He doesn't get your type-a perfectionist attitude about it. You'll just ruin it if you keep trying to go back and perfect everything.

You have to remind him that not everyone is the best at everything they do on the first try. He snickers and ruffles your hair.

You ask him to take a look at it, and he does, giving you the most beautiful look at his eyes.

You get lost in them temporarily, completely missing the actual advice he gives you.

You ask him to repeat himself. He does not.

"Shoulda kept your ears open~... Sorry~"

[sephirthoughts]

For the ask game, I'd like to request Draw Me with Genesis and whoever else you wish. 💜

(the drawing can be like one of those French girls, if you know what I mean ;3 But no pressure! 💜)

Thank you for the ask! This is the silliest thing ever, so i hope you enjoy it! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Why Lazard Installed a Lock on His Office Door

“Lazard! Look at this!” Genesis demanded, as he threw the office door open and strode in, like he owned the place.

“Come right in, Genesis,” Lazard said drily. “What can I do for you?”

Genesis slammed a sheet of paper down on the desk. “Look! Can you believe it?!”

“Uh. It looks like a piece of sketch paper.” Lazard adjusted his spectacles and picked it up, to inspect it. “Oh, did you draw this?”

“Ha. Ha ha!” Genesis collapsed theatrically into a chair, like a tragic heroine. “Nay, not I. These hands were not blessed by the goddess in the way of the pen.”

“It’s pretty good.”

“Pretty good? You have laid your unworthy mortal eyes upon true sublimity, and you say pretty good??” Genesis sneered, snatching the paper away again. “Pearls before swine!”

“Hey!” Lazard scowled.

“Ah—apologies, director,” Genesis corrected. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you are in any way swine-like.”

“…”

“I only meant that you’re a tasteless philistine, with no eye for artistic virtuosity.”

“There it is. Alright, so you found a drawing of yourself. Why are you in my office about it?”

“Because I need your permission to make copies and hang them up all over the building.”

“I see. Not the worst idea. Even if the artist doesn’t come forward, someone may recognize it, and lead you to them.”

“Hm? Oh! Yes, we could use it to find them! You are right. The person who created this is a world-shaking talent. They really should get some recognition.”

“World shaking?” Lazard said doubtfully. “I mean, it’s a good likeness of you and everything, but don’t you think it’s a little…idealized?”

“Of course it is! Do you not see?” Genesis intoned, shaking the paper at him. “True art is not to photographically reproduce reality, but to render the subject as beheld by the heart. This is a confession of love! Every pen stroke an act of worship!”

“So, you want to find the person who drew this, because you think they’re in love with you?”

Genesis ignored him and laid back in the chair, holding up the portrait to gaze at it, with a long, languorous sigh. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight. For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”

“It’s eleven-thirty AM.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, abruptly sitting up again. “An artist who could translate such pure and tender longing to ink and paper, is clearly a gentle and diffident soul. Their talent must be allowed to bloom on its own, without rough hands disturbing the delicate petals, or they may close up forever. I will find them out discreetly, so as not to alarm them, with sudden exposure.”

“Alright, good. Now, what can I do to get you out of my office?” 

Just then there was a knock, and Sephiroth poked his head in. “Director? I was passing by, and I—oh you found my picture!”

Genesis stared at him, thunderstruck. “You…you drew this?”

“Yes. I misplaced it somewhere, but I assumed it’d been thrown away by now,” Sephiroth said sheepishly. “I’m a little embarrassed that you saw it, actually.”

“No, no! Don't be embarrassed! It’s beautiful,” Genesis said, his voice wavering with emotion.

Sephiroth looked even more awkward than usual, which was quite an accomplishment. “Thank you for saying so. It’s just a sketch, though. If only I could learn oil painting, I could do the subject justice. But I don’t have time for things like that.”

“When did you even find time to take up drawing?” Lazard asked.

“Oh, I haven’t. Dr. Barenbaum and I are just doing some art therapy. The assignment was to draw the most important person in my life.”

“Sephiroth, I…I don’t know what to say,” Genesis faltered, blushing like a rose. “I had no idea that you felt that way. I shall treasure this portrait forever.”

Sephiroth looked at him strangely. “Of course, you’re welcome to keep it, but why would you want a picture of my mother?”

Genesis choked. “Y—your mother?”

Lazard felt a headache coming on. “So, to recap, you just fell in love with a picture of yourself. And you drew a picture of your mother, that looks exactly like Genesis.”

“…”

“…”

“Alright, get out. Both of you,” he said, pointing to the door. “I can’t be expected to deal with this level of absurdity before lunch. And don’t come back until you’ve worked out your narcissism and mommy issues! Or at least your unresolved sexual tension!” 

Thanks again for the ask!!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

[wayfayrr]

Hi! I saw your requests are open and I read what you posted about fem!reader with piercings, and I wanted to request fem!reader but with lots of tattoos, maybe a full on sleeve tattoo on one or both arms in chain’s world if that’s ok (´･ᴗ･`)

It can be with anyone you want, whether it’s someone you’ve been wanting to write about, or whoever would give you the most motivation, or whoever you think would be the most interesting to do in this scenario, have fun with this ♡︎

That's very okay anon!! Ngl you actually scared me with the timing of this ask though, I was literally talking to a coworker about how I've always been considering a sleeve then I saw your ask just a bit later JSVNJODN!! But this was really self-indulgent in the end! the tattoos reader has are only loosely described If anyone wants to know what I was picturing as I wrote feel free to ask I'm happy to share!!! I ended up writing for Sky since he's my favourite! I hope you like it!!

“You and I are sharing a room tonight then, my dove? I can’t believe they’ve let me have you all to myself like this. It’s the perfect chance for you to show me some more of your music…”

That incident earlier seems to have given Sky far more confidence around me now, not that I’m saying that I don’t like how much more touchy he’s gotten, it’s far from that. Sky having more confidence to act how he wants around me rather than how he thinks he should act or like he’s trying to keep me at arm's length feels wonderful. Even if he is still teasing me about it. His laugh when he’s not holding back at all is still one of the most beautiful sounds, and I truly doubt it’ll ever stop being one.

“Yeah, maybe I can use the chance to show you some decent things, first though I’d rather get into something more comfortable and settle.”

“I’m looking forward to it dear, if you’d prefer you can go in now and change while I change somewhere else?”

“Thanks Sky, I’ll see you back here in a second then.”

It’s only fair I tease him back with a kiss, what if he’s going to be so confident with how he holds me most of the time now it’s only fair that I can be more confident as well. Sky didn’t take long either, coming back just as I finished changing, no doubt faster due to being more used to how these clothes just are. And he’s staring at me, Oh right! He’s not seen my tattoo before. He’s got every right to be curious, given I’ve never mentioned it before. The feeling of his hand hovering right over my arm almost feels near intoxicating, he’s so gentle like he’s afraid to do something wrong.

“Dearest would you mind if I..?”

“I don’t, I um well I should’ve told you a bit earlier shouldn’t I.”

“No! I mean, no I’m glad that I found out like this.”

He’s completely enamoured with the biggest tattoo I have, the one on my left arm. Tracing the lines so tenderly, like he’s scared of being overindulgent in giving me attention. It’s almost taunting how softly affectionate he’s being even just for this one, like he thinks I deserve to be treated with the same tenderness as someone would a piece of art within a gallery. Is he going to be like this with all of them?

“It means I get to appreciate your beauty without anyone interrupting, and I don’t think I could bear to share your attention right now.”

“T-thanks Sky. I swear if it wasn’t for the fact I can’t stay in Hyrule I would’ve already asked you to date me.”

“Why should that stop you dearest?”

“Well because I don’t want to cause you any pain when I have to leave, I can’t bring myself to be the one causing you that pain.”

The way his hands tensed around my arms as I said that, along with the face that he pulled? Sky doesn’t seem all that infatuated with the idea that I could leave him, not that I want to, not that I have the choice. His grip loosened quickly though, him pulling me into a gentle hug instead with a whine. Still obsessing over my tattoos at the same time, but with his focus changing from my sleeve to the band on my right instead although now his touch feels more like he’s trying to ground himself. Ironic really.

“Why would you assume I wouldn’t follow you? I couldn’t handle you leaving if I were courting you or not. Not now.”

“I can’t ask that of you Sky, you’re too important to the future of Hyrule.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you aren’t asking. It’s my choice.”

[perelka-l]

I think by fucked up shit people mean stuff like incest and ships with 20 years between them which only speaks how fandom police can get you for stuff that is pretty common. Loved your post btw I think we all should be loving out things loudly and proudly. I feel like fandom defragmentarized into tiny secret circles like discord servers where fucked up shit is normal but where do you find them if nobody posts about them you know?

You are entirely right.

For starters - I fucking hate Discord. I loathe that this is where apparently things are 'happening' these days. If you don't know someone who's already a part of a group, you're frankly fucked and all there is is you and whoever is active on socmed, that might maybe leave a like, or reblog. I don't want to sound bitter, but people these days comment art when it's shared on some Discord server. I hate this. I hate this so much, because you might just simply never see it, and feel alone.

(Fuck numbers game, when you post fic, art, whatever, what one craves is (and I am using this word) community, sense that you are sharing something with others. You might get one reblog and get the most heartfelt enthusiasm that is coming from deep inside someone's heart and it will make you a thousand times more happy than watching the numbers just go up. But now even that is getting difficult. Because fucking Discord. I was tempted so many times to create "servers" for whatever was on my mind but this is why I usually decided against that.)

I feel like one of reasons that happened was fear. With discord, you can screen who will see your shared filth. It's understandable reaction to whatever the fuck is happening in fandom these days, people don't want to be doxxed, exposed, revealed and shamed. It's a natural progression. And I loathe that it came to this as well. Cringe may no longer exist, but shame still does.

And fr, I remember when I was a baby in fandom. Yes, I looked at things I shouldn't have looked at (another thing that these days I feel is warped...) but at worst you just raised an eyebrow when you saw a more desperate anon request scat on kink meme with two characters you'd never consider together (and they could even get it!!!). Now I feel like people are shamed for most 'basic' stuff. What is a little incest, what is a bit of age gap, truly? In comparison to older days, this was just causal stuff - of course, there were people that were uncomfortable with those themes, but it was easy to just politely look away, elsewhere.

Of course I don't wish to glamorize those times - people were ignorant, there were abusers as everywhere else, all human faults that never went anywhere, there were shitstirrers and drama and hate were present. But I feel like those didn't impact and stifle the fandom as terribly as fanpol now.

So I think best we can do is love, loudly and unashamedly. Just be cringe, just let everything you adore spill out of your heart. Be horny, be enamoured, be friendly, try to let those positive feelings possess you. It's fun! And this is why we are here, this is why we are fans, why we create, why there is fandom. What's the point of participating in this if not out of love? What's the point of love if it's hidden and stifled down? I may be waxing poetics now, but it's a philosophy I genuinely believe in.

I even thought about this recently, how I feel like I am not sticking to this as much as I'd like to. I want to love more, I want to be more open about shit I like, I want to be cringy and unashamed even more. So hey, let's go for it together :D

[shinobuscanonwife]

Hi! Is it okay if I request for the hashira as well as tanjiro and genya ( or whoever you want) reacting to finding some paper in their crush's room who they don't know is good at art full with drawing and paintings of them who they thought they didn't like?

Muichiro isn't included in this! And Gyomei isn't as well.

Tanjiro

You and Tanjiro had gotten injured during a recent battle and you both were in the hospital ward. He hadn't seen you during the fight with the demon that had injured you both the only way he knew you were alive is because Shinobu kept him updated on how you were doing. So when he was feeling up to it he went to your room in the hospital ward. You weren't there so he figured you went to go train or something. He was about to leave to go look for you somewhere else but before he left he noticed a little notebook beside your bed. He had seen you with the notebook before he knew you were good at drawing because you had shown him drawings you drew of Nezuko and some of the other slayers so he decided to open it and see what you had been working on recently. Tanjiro opened the notebook and the first couple of papers were just drawings and paintings of him. He had a slight blush on his face when he saw the drawings. He didn't think you were that interested in him. Just as he was about to put the notebook away he heard you walking into the room. "Oh, y/n hi! I like your drawings :)"

Genya

He really thought you hated him :( he tried everything he could think of to impress you but you didn't seem to pay any attention to him at all. However one day you two were assigned to go on a mission together after the mission you didn't have a good feeling about letting Genya walk home by himself so late at night so you invited him to stay at your house for the night. When you showed Genya to the guest room he noticed there was a thing of papers on the floor that you had probably forgotten he didn't mean to look at them he just wanted to pick them up and return them to you but he accidentally dropped one of them and it flipped over and he saw on the sheet of paper a painting of him. It had your signature on the bottom of the painting so you had definitely painted it. He was impressed by how good the painting looked but shocked because why would you be painting him? Did you not actually hate him? He still returned the papers to you but after that he didn't feel as nervous talking to you anymore.

Mitsuri

Mitsuri had liked you for a while and she didn't think you liked her back. You didn't really do anything to make her think you didn't like her it was just Mitsuri overthinking. One day when you and Mitsuri were hanging out in your room Mitsuri eyed a stack of papers beside your bed. She got up and asked what they were and picked them up. Before you could say anything she picked the stack of papers up and saw a bunch of drawings of her. She blushed and said "aww y/n why didn't you tell me before you were good at art!!"

Shinobu

You had gotten injured and you were staying in the hospital ward. Shinobu was going to check on you and when she walked through the door she saw you drawing something. She frowned and said "y/n you really should be resting" You assured her that you were fine and didn't need to rest. Shinobu didn't like you neglecting your rest so she walked up to your bed and grabbed the papers from your hand "I'm going to set these down you can have them back when you've rested some" She glanced at the paper. What she saw was an unfinished drawing of her. "My y/n what's this?" she said looking back at you.

Giyuu

Poor thing he just kind of assumed you didn't like him I mean most of the hashira's didn't so why would you be any different? It was only till one day he saw you sitting down under a tree at headquarters drawing something. He was feeling a bit confident that day so he decided to go up to you and ask what you were drawing. You quickly responded with "nothing I'm not drawing anything." He just responded with "oh ok sorry." he got up and glanced back at you as he left he was able to see what you were drawing and he saw that you were drawing him. He blushed and turned around thinking about how you took the time out of your day to draw you.

Tengen

He was normally very upfront about his feelings but with you, he seemed to lose all of his sense. He got so unbelievably nervous around you. So he hasn't been able to confess to you or hell even have a proper conversation with you. One time after he received some advice from Shinobu he decided to go and try and talk to you. When he was coming up to you he saw you drawing and when he looked closer and he saw you drawing him. His mind immediately went blank he got too nervous to approach you after seeing that.

Kyojuro

You and Kyojuro were hanging out in your room after a training session and he saw a folder with papers in it on your desk. He opened the folder out of curiosity and found a bunch of drawings of him. He smiled and picked up the drawings. "Y/N!! YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME YOU WERE SO GOOD AT DRAWINGS!!!!" He grinned at you not thinking anything of it.

Obanai

You and Obanai were eating together. Obanai had never been one to talk when he ate and he's a slow eater so you just took out your notebook and started to sketch him. He didn't even notice you drawing until you dropped your pen on the ground. You didn't think he had noticed you so you set your drawing on the table and it flipped over so he couldn't see the drawing so you could get your pen. He flipped over the drawing as he was curious about what you were drawing. When he saw an unfinished drawing of him his face went red. He quickly turned the page over and continued to eat pretending he didn't see anything once you got back up.

Sanemi

He had gone to your house trying to find you. He went to your room and instead of finding you, he found a stack of papers on your bed that was all drawings of him. He blushed as he took a moment to look at all of the drawings. had you really taken the time out of your day to draw him? Once he was done looking at them he put them down and continued his search for you. About a week later he brings it up. "So y/n what were those drawings about in your room?" Thank you for your request! Have a nice day/night

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Can you please write about how the task force 141 + whoever you want react to the reader having asymmetrical breasts (you know when one is bigger than the other)? In fact, I decided to write this request as I have this type of chest myself and I'm a bit insecure about of it :⁠-⁠[

It's totally okay if you not wanting to write it, just ignore my ask!

Yoᥙɾ ᑲoᑯყ ɩ⳽ ᥲɾt

Task Force 141 + fem! Reader

As the title says, your body is art. You are a masterpiece, a work of art that is one of a kind. Your body is a canvas that as shows everyone how unique you are. Be proud of who you are and never let anyone make you feel less than beautiful. Because everyone is unique in their own way.

Remember that your always loved by me and so many people! You’re beautiful ❤️

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Simon Riley

Simon and you sat together in your shared apartment, laying in each others arms while watching a movie, a timid silence hung between you. Simon noticed a flicker of unease in your eyes and decided to gently inquire about their distress.

"Hey.." he began softly "Is something on your mind? You seem a little distant today."

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the right words. "Simon, there's something I've been meaning to tell you, more like show you, something I'm scared you'll find repulsive."

Simon's eyes softened, realizing the depth of your vulnerability. "You can tell or show me anything, love. I promise you won't scare me away."

Taking a deep breath, You hesitated before whispering, "The real real reason why I’m wearing hoodies and refuse to show my chest is because I’m insecure about them. They’re asymmetrical. It's something I've always been insecure about, and I'm afraid you won't find me attractive anymore."

Simon's heart ached for your self-doubt. He gently cupped their face, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Do you think my scars are beautiful?"

You blinked in surprise, "Of course, Simon. Your scars tell a story of bravery and resilience."

Simon smiled tenderly. "Then you have to find your body even more beautiful. Imperfections make us unique, and they should never overshadow the beauty within."

Overwhelmed with emotion, You felt tears prickling at the corners of their eyes. Simon's unwavering support gave them the strength to embrace their insecurities and trust in his love.

"Baby.." Simon continued, his voice filled with sincerity, "You are extraordinary just as you are. Your beauty goes beyond physical appearances. It resides in your heart, your courage, and your ability to be vulnerable with me."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of acceptance wash over you. Simon's words resonated deeply, helping to shatter the walls of self-doubt that had plagued you for far too long.

John MacTavish

You’re an independent and determined soldier, were a valued member of Task Force 141. You fought alongside the elite team, including the sergeant John MacTavish. Your skills were unmatched and you held your own in the most dangerous missions.

However, there was something that haunted you, casting a shadow over your confidence—the asymmetry of your breasts. It made you uncomfortable and self-conscious, especially when it came to getting close to others. Your insecurity prevented you from being comfortable enough to wear a little tighter shirts.

One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, you found yourself alone in the barracks, trying to hide your feelings from the world. The weight of your insecurity felt unbearable, and tears welled up in your eyes. Just as you were about to lose yourself in self-doubt, a gentle knock on the door caught your attention.

"Hey, it's me, Soap" John's voice called out, warm and comforting.

You opened the door, trying to hide the remnants of your tears, but John's piercing gaze instantly caught on to your emotional state.

"Something bothering you, love?" he asked, concern etched on his rugged face.

Unable to find the words, you nodded, allowing your tears to flow freely. John stepped forward, pulling you into a comforting embrace, his strong arms enveloping you.

"It's okay, lass. We all have our insecurities," he whispered softly, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled heart. "But trust me when I say that your body is a work of art, flaws and all. You're perfect."

John's words reverberated through your soul, bringing forth a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of your self-doubt. He held you tightly, reassuring you that he was there for you, no matter what.

"You don't have to show anyone anything you're not ready for" John said gently. "Your well-being is what matter most."

Through your tear-streaked vision, you saw love in his eyes. In that moment, your heart swelled with a newfound strength. You knew you could trust John and his unwavering support ignited a flicker of courage within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

John's warm smile melted away your fears. With tenderness, he brushed away your tears and pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

"Remember, love, you are beautiful just the way you are," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "And your beauty goes far beyond your physical appearance. Your strength, bravery, and compassion are what make you truly extraordinary."

That night, you and John remained locked in an embrace, finding comfort in each other's presence.

John Price

John was walking up the stairs to your shared apartment, feeling exhausted from the recent mission. And tonight, the universe had conspired to bring him face-to-face with a vulnerability he hadn't anticipated. As he stepped into the living room, he saw you, huddled in a corner, tears streaming down your face.

Your distress caught him off guard, and he rushed to your side, concern etched across his weathered features. "What's wrong, love?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You hiccupped, trying to control your sobs as you looked up at him through teary eyes. "I... I can't do it, John" you managed to say between shaky breaths.

Confusion flickered in his eyes. "Can't do what, love?"

"I... I can't show you" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of your words. Then, his gaze fell upon your trembling hands, clutching at your chest. The realization dawned on him like a punch to the gut. Your insecurity about your asymmetrical breasts.

The room fell into a heavy silence as John's heart ached for you. He had always seen you as the top of beauty. There wasn’t anything or anyone more beautiful than you. But he understood the deep-seated insecurities that could cripple even the strongest soul.

With gentle resolve, John knelt down in front of you, his piercing blue eyes locked with yours. "Listen to me, love," he spoke softly, his voice carrying a warmth that enveloped you. "I've seen the world, been through hell and back. And let me tell you something…you are more beautiful than anything I've ever come across."

You shook your head, the weight of your self-doubt still looming over you. "But, John..."

"No buts, my love" he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. "We all have our imperfections. It's what makes us human. And it's those imperfections that draw us closer, that make us unique."

He reached out and brushed away a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. "I love you and you‘re the most beautiful woman that has ever walked on this world."

Your breath hitched as his words seeped into your wounded soul. John's love and acceptance were like a balm, soothing the rawness of your insecurities. Slowly, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you.

As if reading your mind, John leaned in, his lips barely brushing against yours. It was a tender and sweet kiss.. your very first.

Kyle Garrick

Despite your unwavering strength, there was a deep-seated insecurity that burdened your heart. You struggled with self-acceptance, specifically regarding your asymmetrical breasts. The fear of judgment and rejection prevented you from fully revealing your vulnerable self to Kyle, despite his unwavering affection. And you were always scared because you couldn’t find a way to like them.

One day, as the weight of your insecurities became too heavy to bear alone, tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. It was during a moment of solitude that Kyle, ever observant, noticed your distress. Without hesitation, he approached you, concern etched across his face.

"Hey" he whispered gently, his voice a soothing balm. "What's troubling you, love? You can tell me anything, you know that."

Your lips quivered as you struggled to find the right words. "Kyle, I... I'm afraid. Afraid you won't see me the same way if I show you. My... chest "

Kyle's warm hand reached out to wipe away your tears, his touch grounding you in the moment. "Baby" he said tenderly, "you're the most beautiful person I've ever met. Your physical appearence is just a fraction of who you are. It's your heart, your soul, your unyielding courage that captivates me."

You tried to speak, but your voice caught in your throat. The fear of rejection still lingered, but Kyle's unwavering support gave you the strength to take a leap of faith.

With a trembling hand, you began to unbutton your shirt, revealing the hidden secret that had kept you shackled for so long. As your heart pounded, you felt Kyle's arms encircle you in a warm, comforting embrace. His presence became a shield against your fears.

"I know it's not easy for you…" Kyle murmured against your ear, his voice filled with empathy. "But believe me when I say that you're more than your physical appearance. You're unique, you're strong, and you're breathtakingly beautiful just the way you are."

"I love you," Kyle whispered, his voice laced with sincerity. "Every part of you, inside and out."

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Could you do needlemouse with a reader who is wheelchair bound

Needlemouse/Sarah with wheelchair user reader

This mostly going to take place before the whole murder incident so yeah (if you want some on after the incident then please message me and I’ll do a part 2) also I heard that the term wheelchair bound isn’t the best way to describe someone who uses a wheelchair and people prefer not to be referred to as that so i’ll just be using wheelchair user (if I’m incorrect then please tell me but as far as I’m aware of this is what i saw). ~Blaze/Dawn

Part 2

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️Mentions of being discriminated against + slight reference to Sarah’s death⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Needlemouse/Sarah + Luther + Michael + Martin

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by 789god on Pinterest + Banner by livyq_ on Pinterest

———————————

- Just like her other friends Luther, Martin and Michael you two met some point before college or some point during your first year of college. I’d like to think that you two met and became friends because you were having trouble getting around on your wheelchair. When she came up to you and asked to help you, at first you were a little hesitant about wanting her help, not because you didn’t trust her, you just didn’t want to bother her. Eventually you let her help you since you didn’t really have a choice to which she did actually help you.

- Despite her being described to ‘walk all over’ people (whether this is true or not because on the wiki it said that either Sarah did actually do this while intoxicated/sober or Martin and Micheal said this when drunk themselves) she has been described as a genuine caring person when she was around Luther at least. I can possibly imagine her being the same around you. The reason why I can see this is mostly due to the setting they were born in the analog horror which was during the 1900’s - 2000’s which was known for people who are ‘different’ being discriminated against for example people who are apart of the lgbtq+ community (like Sarah) and people who were disabled. Although I’m not sure that Sarah has openly admitted to other people besides her friends that she was in a same-sex relationship, she has seen how people who were like her were being treated and she was concerned what might happen to her if people found out. Due to this I can imagine her having some sort of sympathy for you due to you being disabled and being shamed for being in a wheelchair.

- Adding on from the previous sentence, if she did see you being discriminated against she’ll stand up for you, although she may or may not get into full on fights with people but she'll definitely tell them off until they give up and leave you alone. After this she’ll go up to you to see if you're alright and apologise if she was too ‘loud’ to which you said that she was fine and that you appreciated her standing up for you.

- Since you were friends with Sarah it would probably be obvious that you are also friends with Luther, Martin and Micheal. I’d like to imagine that they are like Sarah in terms of helping you since they are friends with someone who is also in the same situation as you just in a different way and just like Sarah will stand up for you if you're being bullied for being disabled. Some might be more open to violence some not but regardless they make sure that whoever is hurting you stops.

- When it comes to doing other activities Sarah as well as the others will always make sure that you were included in whatever they were doing and not left out. If you ever need help with something they’ll help you with it and find ways to incorporate whatever they are doing in a way so you can join.

- Sometimes Sarah likes to take you to an isolating place with her (with your permission of course) and use this as an opportunity to chat about what has happened recently and relax for a while and maybe she'll tell you some stories from when she was a child or situations with her girlfriend. She might even have some things that both you and her like.

- Overall despite Sarah sometimes having her moments she is a decent person to be around well before the incident at least.

———————————

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi I'm the one who requests Shiva and wives Rockstar reader I was wondering if you can do teenage reader with Shiva and wives who does illegal underground racing😻

-Your parents, your father Shiva, and your three mothers, Parvati, Kali, and Durga, always supported you in any hobby or endeavor you showed interest in.

-They thought it was healthy to have interest in a wide arrange of activities and interests, be it music, dancing, art, hiking, rock climbing, but your newest one has been a bit… unusual compared to other hobbies.

-Mechanics, as in building engines, learning about cars, and expressing interest in racing, was definitely a bit more unique.

-This hobby, cars and racing, particularly street racing, has managed to hold your attention for far longer than any other before, it was a joy for you, something you loved to pieces.

-Like any good supportive parents, they were okay with this, just as long as you weren’t doing anything dangerous, much like your other hobbies.

-You’re pretty sure you had given Shiva a few grey hairs when you were into rock climbing, dangling off some very large cliffs and mountains.

-Recently, however, you’ve been sneaking out late at night and not returning until early the next morning.

-You thought your parents were non-the-wiser, but Shiva is a very light sleeper, and was the first to see you sneaking out, but said nothing to you, only to his wives, as you weren’t coming home injured.

-After several weeks of you sneaking out almost every night, they finally decided to follow after you, to make sure you weren’t doing anything bad.

-Where you led them to was the last place they had expected, a now unused parking garage.

-They kept their distance, not wanting you to know that they were following you, as you led them to about the middle of the garage, where loud music was playing and lines of cars were, modified cars meant for street racing.

-There was an array of people, teenagers like you to people in their fifties and up.

-You trotted over to a group where an older man looked to be the leader and ruffled your hair fondly, “Hey there Y/N! How’s my favorite mechanic?” you beamed up at him, as he had taken you under his wing and your work on his team’s engines were superb.

-Your family watched the racing, from drag racing to drifting, finding the races exhilarating, they could easily see why you liked sneaking out each night.

-You weren’t a racer, as you were still a teenager, but you didn’t seem really interested in racing, you just wanted to work on the cars and learn more about them, for now anyway.

-Your mothers left first, heading down before Shiva, to return home; you noticed Shiva grinning lightly over at you, giving you a small nod and you felt a wave of relief spread over you, that he was okay with this.

-You made yourself promise that you would tell them all the truth tomorrow, rather than just sneaking around.

-A smile came to your lips as you couldn’t help but thank whoever blessed you with just open-minded parents.

[angelanimedesaray]

🍄🍓🎲

AAAH!!! HELLO!!! I always see you in my feed, I wasn't expecting you in my inbox, but I'm happy to see you here XD

Sooo, the questions. Yes. I am so sorry these are so long, I can't be short and sweet and to the point for anything, I swear, it's always just word vomit and -- I'm rambling again, let's get to it hahaha XD

🍄 A Headcanon for one of my favorite ships/Pairings. Sooooo I don't have a favorite ship/pairing, not really, for the AOT fandom, I'm just kind of vibing over here with most of them XD I'll enjoy Erwin/Levi Content one second, scroll two more posts down and oogle over a Hange/Levi, and then gasp and jealously drink in an OC/Levi art the next second while scribbling down the artist for future reference for the day I can finally afford to request some Levi and my OCs art (I have an OC in mind for every Levi x Reader Fic I've written that I imagine while I write). So it's more like a Levi x Anyone kind of headcanon:

I have always been a sucker for the thought that when Levi get's really comfortable with whoever he's with, and he's letting his guard down more and is cuddling regularly with his SO, that this is a common and favorite position:

Just, the hand running gently through his hair at the nape of his neck, arms wrapped tightly around one another, head pillowed on n their chest, it looks so comfy and warm and comforting for him and uuugggghhhhh I'm a sucker for it, it's my comfort soft thought/headcanon and I love it.

🍓 How did I get into fanfic. Soooo I was already known IRL for loving writing, mostly poetry at the time, and being a huuuuge star wars fan (I was usually the one people went to if they had a character or event question cause I KNEW MY STUFF). And a friend of mine came up to me one day at summer camp and asked for some help with a star wars fanfic she was writing since i knew character and canon/EU stuff so well, and she explained WHAT fanfic was to me, and after talking for a while we wrote it together, though we kind of parted due to creative differences/complete opposite styles, but I'd created a fanficnet profile putting the original character names from the story together with plans to post the fanfic we were writing, and I decided to just keep it and start writing my own stories, and that's how I started writing fanfic--and also how I got the penname AngelDesaray, two OCs that didn't really see the light of day. Well, Desaray got revamped into Zelina for my Star Wars fanfiction baby I still work on slowly to this day, but that's besides the point, heh.

🎲What stops me from writing more in my free time? I usually get in my own way a lot. My attention span has been really shot since college, it's hard for me to focus on one thing for a long time--it's part of why I started having multiple things going on at once, it helps me to focus if I have a video running or music playing, and three or four word documents and a social media website I can easily jump away from again open, because then there's enough going on that I oddly enough can focus (I used to get teased all the time by my parents for having my laptop open on my lap, texting someone on my phone, playing a NintendoDS Game, and watching a show all at once). Another issue is that I think I haven't 100% bounced back from my college burnout, but I really really miss my writing and stories, which puts me in this weird catch 22 where I'm just mentally tired and don't want to do anything, but i've been daydreaming of my story for literal hours and really want to get something on paper. Also sometimes I'm cursed with wanting to write plot heavy stuff but I'm in the middle of relationship building, or wanting to write action but I'm doing dialogue heavy chapters, or wanting to write relationship steamy stuff but there's a lot of plot stuff going on--etc etc. Its usually me and my attention span getting in the way, pretty much. Doesn't mean i don't want to really really bad or that I'm not thinking about it 24/7, cause I usually am, it's just hard for me to FOCUS these days once I have the white sheet in front of me.

Ask Game Here

[torra-and-the-toons]

Welcome to my Cartoon Blog!

Torra | she/her | 1992 | Autistic | Fan Artist & Author 

Hello! If you’re reading this it means you’ve found my blog! Just a few things before we get started that you should know about me and what I do here. 

I post about whatever cartoon is tickling my brain at the moment, and I flit between hyperfixations like I’m playing duck-duck-goose. Ed Edd n Eddy is the only fandom I have major projects in, but I partake in a lot of other fandoms too. So just know, if you follow me for one fandom, it’s bound to change.

I ramble a lot. I tend to voice my thoughts out loud randomly into the void that is tumblr just because I like to talk to whoever may be listening. If that’s not your thing, you may want to block the #torra rambles tag! Don’t worry, it won’t hurt my feelings. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea and I want to do my best to make this blog enjoyable for all kinds of people.

My askbox is open, but I no longer take requests or answer head-canon related questions, but I’m happy to say hi. No Anons anymore, sorry.

If you’re just here for my art, I suggest looking for #torrasart. For any art I posted before February of 2024, I used #my art, #my doodles just FYI, but mass post editor was too confusing to change it, so I left it as is.

I try to be generally sfw, but I might still post/reblog suggestive text posts occasionally, tagged #suggestive, so minors beware... 

I don’t want to have to block anybody but I will if I have to... 

Please keep in mind that I have a full-time job that takes up a majority of my time and energy, but in spite of that I’m working as hard as I can to bring these projects to life. I also have pretty bad ADHD, which effects my ability to stay focused, but I’m trying. All I ask is for your patience and understanding. 💖

Ed Edd n Eddy Stuff

At the moment I have a few serious projects that I’m working on: My fan-comic, “In the Ed,” my fanfiction, “In the Sky of a Million Stars” and my most recent venture is just my unnamed Torra AU where I unleash my weird furry self-insert/OC into the cul-de-sac like a lunatic because I can’t make normal human OC’s.

IN THE ED

Horror AU, Supernatural Themes, Trigger Warning for blood and possible gore, Content Warning for language and violence.

"Nobody knew it existed. In fact this was the first time anyone had set eyes upon this hilltop manor for quite some time..." Four years after the events of the Big Picture Show, the Eds and friends find themselves in a brand new, death-defying adventure that's sure to shift the genres.

tags: #in the ed comic, #wip shot, #in the ed refs

This fan-comic is also on Ao3 for slightly easier readability! 

Introduction Page! 

CHAPTER 1: Peach Creek Manor

[1-5] [6-10] [11-15] [16-20] [21-25 (coming soon)]

IN THE SKY OF A MILLION STARS

Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Trigger Warning for Suicide Attempts, Content Warning for language and blood

Eddy has always been a man of many fears, but above all else, his greatest fear has always been the inevitability of growing up. Now, with adulthood staring him in the face, he just can’t take it. Why couldn’t things have stayed the way they were? AU where the BPS never happened, and Eddy struggles with the changes happening around and within him. Loosely based on the song "One More Light," by Linkin Park.

tags: #a million stars fic, #a million stars art

Follow it on Ao3 to get the latest updates!

Torra AU [not official name, and no banner image yet]

Comedy, OC, Content warning for language but overall trigger-safe, I think. Unless you have a fear of tigers

tags: #torra oc, #torra au, #torra and the eds

The Isaac Saga [no banner yet]

Comedy with some hurt/comfort themes. 

A collection of comics and drawings about the cat I made for Double Dee named Isaac. 

tags: #isaac the cat, #small things with great ed

Small Things with Great Ed Part 1

[pages 1-5] [6-10] [11-15]

[rom-e-o]

Going Up (Constance/Ebenezer) 18+/NSFW

Connie and Ebenezer get frisky in an elevator. That's the story.

This is an 18+ story - Minors, DNI. The full story is below the gif and cut.

DING! Your lift has arrived~

"C-Constance...you need to..."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Hell no, but you need to," he husked, another sigh tumbling from his lips. One of his hands reached back absently to grab the marble beam for support. "A-At least until we get to the room."

Thankfully, it was a long, long elevator ride up to the hotel penthouse Ebenezer had reserved. A long, private elevator ride.

Her red lips formed a smile as she continued to press a kiss to the gloriously velvety underside of his proud erection. The polished marble floor was murder on her knees (she knew she'd have terrible bruises come the morrow), but the perspective of her lover's glorious cock before her more than made up for it.

"Why wait?" she asked, giggling as she felt the muscles of his thighs begin to tremble beneath her fingertips. "I certainly don't intend to go anywhere between here and there."

Her manicured fingers, painted a sleek shade of crimson, grazed up the length of his cock. He hissed, the reddened skin sensitive to even the slightest of touches. His arousal was only intensified by the fact that the elevator was open to the London skyline, the stained glass crafted into an art-deco display that barely concealed their entangled bodies from the night sky and stars beyond the frosted surface.

Realistically, there was no way any living things except the seabirds soaring over the Thames River could see them, but that detail hardly dimmed the excitement. It was still a crescendo of emotion that had been building the entire evening.

It was almost poetic that he'd surprised her with the booking right after they'd started stealing passionate kisses in the relative privacy of the hall's lobby phonebooth.

It also made the temptation of falling to her knees to show her appreciation for the delightful evening all the more inspiring.

Oh, she knew he never expected any type of reciprocal action after a date, no matter how expensive or romantic. Ebenezer was a gentleman, through and through. Whether the date ended with a kiss on the cheek or a night of clawing at the bedsheets, he was elated all the same. As was she.

On this night, Constance longed to shower him in affection.

She'd been eyeing him all evening since he'd picked her up for their date in his newest, made-to-measure Brioni suit. As designed, the Italian-cut ensemble highlighted every inch of his towering broad-shouldered frame with mouth-watering perfection. Whoever had measured and tailored the outfit for him deserved a raise, wine gift basket, and the tightest hug Constance could humanly manage.

Their date had been perfect, as each date with Ebenezer was. Delicious glasses of Chambord preceded a night of romantic dancing at one of London's most elegant concert halls.

The entire time, he swept her off her feet like his always did. He always knew the perfect way to lay his hand upon her hip, or how to give her bottom lip the lightest bite with every kiss. The way to lead her into a twirl on the dance floor, the way to run his hand over hers as she grazed his cheek. It was kismet.

She flattened her tongue, as if she was preparing to capture a snowflake, and ran it along the length of his shaft. At the tip, she kissed his engorged phallus, making sure to add an audible 'mwah!' to make sure the gesture landed with as much punch as possible.

She was instantly rewarded with a guttural whimper. "F-Fuck, Connie..."

Another giggle. "Is that what you'd like to do?"

A hand reached out a fisted a hand into her hair. Not pulling, just steadying. Grounding him to her, and this moment.

Also, it was a sign to keep going; a requests she would happily oblige.

A bead of translucent precum dripped onto her chest. The plunging neckline of her gown pushed her already impressive breasts up and forward. The liquid beaded on her bare skin and slowly traveled into her cleavage. Ebenezer groaned at the lewd site, arcing his back as she took the tip of his shaft into her mouth.

She sank down slowly, taking him in inch by inch. Nice and slow, just like she knew he liked it.

"Hngh...fuck, sweetheart..." he moaned, his voice pitching as he head fell back. "H-Ha...ah! Mmph!"

His breaths came in rasps. Despite the softness of his cries, his hand held her head firmly, a silent plea for her to stay in place and keep working him, and to please not stop.

She moaned in approval of his begging, hollowing her cheeks as she took him into her throat. Fingertips splayed over his thighs, supporting him and helping him stay upright.

By the time the elevator reached the penthouse, he was on the brink. The esteemed banker was gasping, rocking, rutting against her red mouth with aggression that he future self would chide him for displaying in front of a woman.

In that moment, however, nothing could have stopped him. Even the telltale 'ding!' of the lift to let them know they'd reached their destination didn't quell his passion. Instead, the sound snapped him back into reality. He tugged her hair to encourage him to release his cock, which she did. It bobbed free, a light trail of saliva linking her lips with the engorged tip. Gods, it was borderline painful to stave off his orgasm, but he knew it would be worth it.

"W-What are you..." she mumbled, her cornflower-blue eyes reflecting the crystalline decor of their chamber as crisply as a virginal lake.

Not bothering to rezip his trousers, he gathered her svelte body and hoisted her high into her arms. A simple tug of a lever held the elevator in place as he carried her out, reassuring the private lift wouldn't be called away anytime soon. The last thing he would tolerate would be any disturbances.

After a searing kiss upon her rosy lips, he crossed the penthouse's gilded chamber and deposited her right in the middle of the room's large bed.

"There," he said, gazing down upon her reclined form with a smirk of satisfaction. "London's finest lady deserves no less than to be ravished upon the city's finest bed. A goddess deserves a pedestal, after all."

She blushed, then giggled as he crawled over her to nuzzle the velvety skin of her neck, growling like an animal as he did so. He could be so playful when he wanted to be, and Constance delighted in it.

"I think that liquor is going to your head, sir," she teased, biting her lip as her fingertips traced the form of his owlish nose.

"Are you challenging my taste?"

"In the evening's accommodations and activities? Oh, absolutely not!" she teased. "In me? Well ... I suppose I still have a hard time believing all this is real. That...you and I are real."

One of his hands lofted to caress her cheek, the color as sanguine as a leaf turned ablaze from the frost. "Shall I prove it?"

Constance eyed him, and found his slate eyes completely focused on her. Not her body, not her breasts, not even her lips ... just her.

"I think I'd quite like that."

She'd have more than the bruises on her knees come morning to remind her of the evening, and serve as testimony of the devotion that shaped their reality.

This is just a silly little thing, haha. I hope you enjoyed!

@quill-pen @crimson-phantom-designs