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deunmiu-dessie · 2 months

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he misses you. he misses you like a flower misses the sun. like the desert misses the rain. like you are the entirety of his being. as if you hold the key to his fierce, thumping bloody heart within the palm of your hands, like he is nothing without you— and perhaps he isn't. he doesn't feel like himself, no, in fact, he feels empty. like a shell of the man he used to be before you. he feels as though the world has lost its color, its meaning, and it makes him feel bare— it makes him feel.

he misses you. he misses the warmth of your perfume, a sweet and spicy blended aroma of saffron and sugared lavender. he misses your smile, all wide and pretty— genuine and charming, and always all for him. he misses the sound of your laughter, raw and boisterous, but sometimes soft and breathy, intimate. he misses your kisses, shy and cloying— yet fierce and angry at times as well. he misses the small things, like the scatter of moles across the expanse of your body that he finds himself counting when he can't fall asleep. or the way you fuss over him, mumbling curses and your love for him all in the same sentence.

he is nothing without you, and he knows it all too well.

the soft jangle of your keys in the lock makes him look up from his journal, the door swinging open. and despite himself, he finds that he's softened underneath your warm, loving gaze. ah, he also misses the sound of your voice, euphonious and soft, a tone you use for him specifically.

❝why are you looking at me like that?❞

he can feel his heart dance within his chest, pounding fiercely as you slant your hip to the side, the very same hips he adores holding onto when swaying with you to music. your eyes, which always seem to sweep him under with their intensity with no fail, are glittering with mirth, it knocks the breath from his chest. ❝ i adore you,❞ he utters— he sounds like a fool in love, and he doesn't particularly mind it. your cheeks flush with color and you playfully roll your eyes. that's alright, you don't need to say it back, he knows.

❝help me with the groceries?❞

he? ⸺ SIMON, gojo satoru, DAMON SALVATORE, soap, older!TANJIRO, scott mccall, GAZ, clark kent, EMMETT CULLEN, leon kennedy, STEVE HARRINGTON, giyu tomioka, JOHN PRICE, loran, ULYSSES, rick grimes, KÖNIG, dick grayson, SPENCER REID.

honestly it can be anyone you envision.

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 3 months

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12 / 1,147 words / for @141wh0re. happy birthday <3

nsfw, free use, rough sex, group sex ⬇

...

"Shut your bloody mouth before you broadcast our hiding place to every tango in a mile radius," Ghost snaps. He's got you bent over a crate, your nails digging into the old wood for purchase as his hips grind against yours.

"Then don't be so fucking rough," you snap, though it sounds breathy and thin even to your ears. You shift, feeling his hands squeeze your hips in irritation.

Ghost doesn't falter, but his eyes glitter at your backtalk. He claps his gloved hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds you're making. His other hand grips your thigh, forcing you onto one leg as he pushes your knee onto the top of the crate. He pulls out and slams back into you, getting back to railing you hard and fast.

“We need you on your sniper, Ghost,” Soap hisses from his spot at the far window. He’s peering down the scope of his own rifle. This building is only two stories high and small enough that any one of you could cross the room in three strides. The body heat alone is getting to you. Not to mention the way Ghost is fucking you like it'll save this mission, his pants pushed down to mid-thigh just as yours are.

"Get back to work, then, Ghost," Price tells him from the nearest window, eye leaving the scope of his rifle for a moment to take you in. "I don't need you two distracting my team."

Ghost grinds into you, a frustrated snarl muffled under his mask. You feel the muscles in his hands flex as he bites back his anger. "Fuck," he mutters. "Alright. Let's finish this."

On the other side of the cramped room, Gaz and Soap kneel at the largest window. They keep their focus, sniping marks with ruthless precision. As they do, Ghost's hips snap into you faster and harder. His teammates are focused on their task; he's focused solely on his.

"You're so tight," he growls. His hand slips away from your mouth, falling to your neck. "I've been wanting you since we--"

"Stop talking," you snap, hyperaware of the implicit warning in Price’s voice and the way Soap and Gaz are shifting in position, getting restless. You’re not sure if they’ve had enough, if they’re jealous, if they’d sooner throw you out the window than entertain another moment of this. "Get it done."

Ghost doesn't bother to argue. He pins you down with a hand between your shoulder blades as he fucks you, unceremonious and primal.

You bite your lip and try to stay quiet as Price's judgmental gaze falls over you again. Ghost flattens you even more against the crate and slams into you so hard and fast it creaks and squeaks against the floor. You cry out, writhing. His hips stutter, and then he's coming, slamming into you until you can't think. Your clit catches the rough edge of the crate. The sudden, sharp jolt is too much. An unexpected orgasm crashes over you, and you groan pathetically, clenching around Ghost.

Ghost curses. He slows down, still panting, and slowly pulls out of you. He runs a gloved hand down your back in a quick—but still noticeable—gesture of appreciation.

"Nice," Price mutters in approval. "Good work."

"She’s a good teammate, ain’t she," Ghost says. "Always wet."

You shiver, their words shooting straight to your core. You're sure you should be insulted, not flattered. But your body doesn’t seem to understand that.

Gaz nudges Soap and they glance over their shoulders at you.

“How long was that one?” Gaz asks Soap.

“I’m busy at the moment. You think I bloody timed it?” Soap snaps.

Gaz looks amused. “Did you not?”

Soap swears under his breath, eye returning to his sniper scope. “Eleven minutes.”

Gaz scoffs. "Could do better."

“Alright, that’s enough,” Price says, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Ghost, take up position.”

He disappears from behind you. You pull yourself together and get to work.

...

This mission went tits up right out of the gate. If not for your teammates’ ludicrous skill and focus under pressure, you’d be dead. No doubt. But they’ve been in far worse binds than simply being pinned down inside a rickety, moldy shack by endless enemy gunfire.

Soon enough, the chaos is over, and no more shots ring out.

“Clear,” Soap says.

“Proper job,” Price says. “Regroup.”

You’re patching up a graze on Gaz’s forearm when Price returns three minutes later, frowning.

“Bad news. No exfil for another forty-five minutes.”

“How bloody long does it take to—” Ghost cuts himself off with a rough sigh. “We should keep moving. Find somewhere safer to wait it out.”

“After we regroup here, yeah?” Gaz says.

Ghost scoffs. “Why? You in the middle of something?”

“Oh, we’re about to be,” Soap retorts.

You’re hardly paying attention, fastening two butterfly bandages to Gaz’s laceration when Soap’s arm loops around your waist and drags you backward into his lap. He makes sure to drag your core over his thigh, knowing you’re still sensitive enough to feel it even through your pants. You grit your teeth, biting back a groan. He tugs the top half of your combat uniform apart and shoves his hand inside, groping your chest roughly. You gasp, grinding down on his lap unwittingly.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl.” Soap’s breath is hot in your ear. “Real reliable.”

“We don’t have time for fun and games, Johnny,” Ghost says, sounding irritated.

“Easy for you to say. You had yours,” Gaz says. He slides closer to Soap, his eyes fixed on you.

Ghost throws a questioning look at Price. Price leans back on the crate you’d been bent over a few minutes ago. He shrugs, rolling around a fresh cigarette between his lips. “Not a bad place to sit tight. We’ve got a good view in all directions if more tangos approach. Relatively protected and exfil has a clear landing zone through those trees. We stay.”

“You heard him,” Gaz says.

“Arsewits, both of you,” Ghost mutters.

You’re staring at the cigarette in Price’s mouth, eyes half-lidded, when Gaz’s fingers take your chin and tilt your face toward him. “You don’t mind, love, do you?”

A frustrated growl rolls through Soap’s chest, but he pauses mid-squeeze to hear your answer too.

You stare at Gaz, then Ghost, then Price again. “Forty-five minutes?”

“We’ll make it work,” Soap says.

“I know.” You shift in his lap again. Your core is aching, your mind already clouded over with want. “Fine. If… if that’s what you need.”

Soap chuckles into your ear. “Away wi’ that. No pretendin’ you do this because it’s your job. You like it.”

“Fuck off,” you snap.

“Gettin’ to that.” Soap shifts you so he can get his pants and yours out of the way. He notices Gaz’s hand run down your neck enticingly, hears you sigh, and pushes Gaz’s hand away. “Wait your turn.”

Gaz scoffs. “You’ll hardly last long enough to wait on.”

“You can share,” Price tells them. Then he gives you a pointed look. “Saves time. You can rest on the bird, sweetheart.”

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

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fear-is-truth · 2 months

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girl dinner

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nahoyasboyfriend · 3 months

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Helping hand

Warnings: shameless smut, handjob, unprotected sex, rough sex.

Word count: 2.4k

Tagging: @doll3tt33 @fear-is-truth @coentinim

A/N: this is literally pure filth. I'm not sure what possessed me to write this, but I did. Sorry for any typos or bad writing.

Staying up late with Kyle had become sort of a routine. Sleeping didn't always come easy to you, and getting Kyle to bed without you was always a struggle. Sitting with your legs crossed on the bed, you ponder over what you should do. It couldn't be too loud and it had to be something you were certain he'd enjoy. You glance at him for a moment, he was laying down on the floor watching something on his ipad, so he was occupied for now.

You grabbed your laptop, blankly staring at the screen while you skimmed over your options. Then it hit you— a movie! You could put on a movie. After five minutes of scrolling, you decide to put on a cheesy comedy. you were more of a horror movie enjoyer, but you figured Kyle wouldn't like it. He was a sensitive boy, now more than ever, and you didn't want to stress him out. Especially after the whole being brought back to life ordeal.

"Kyle, honey, come here," you gently call out, placing the laptop on the edge of the bed so you could lay down. You could hear the creak of the floorboards as he slowly ambled to you. He laid down next to you, throwing his arm over you to pull you closer. Stuck in his hold, your hand slapped around until you found the edge of the covers, slinging it over the two of you. You settled in, squirming around until you were comfortable, and then you pressed play.

The plan had been to watch the movie, and then head to bed, but that was ruined when not even ten minutes in he kept shifting. “Ky, what's wrong?” You whisper, tearing your eyes away from the screen to look at him. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth and his eyebrows knit together in discomfort. “H-hurts,” he murmured. You sat up, gently removing the cover from the two of you. “Where does it hurt, kyle?”

He propped himself up until he was sitting on his knees. Confused, you watched silently wondering what he was trying to show you. Maybe he had scraped his leg, or he had a bruise. His lack of motor skills was a major downside of being frankensteined back together. "Here," he grunted, looking down at his pants. You followed his gaze until you were meant with the obvious bulge in his pants. Oh.

Unsure of what to do, you just sat there. Shit. Should you help him? Would helping him be the right thing to do? Seemingly annoyed at your lack of response, he took your hand placing it over his groin. He whined at the desperately needed contact, rolling his hips. "Touch, p-please."

This quickly snaps you out of your thoughts, it’s hard to worry about the consequences when he’s so needy. "Are you sure?" You ask, just to check, accidentally pushing his boundaries was never something you wanted to do. He nods, and you start to unzip his pants. Despite the initial struggle, you're finally able to get his pants down, revealing the blue boxers he had on underneath. His precum stains the fabric, making a sizable dark patch.

"Poor boy, you must be so worked up" you coo, running a finger over the length of it. Kyle's pupils swallow the already deep brown of his eyes as he watches you. Meeting his intense gaze is enough to make you look down again, goosebumps pricking at your skin.

With more zeal than before, your fingers hook the band of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. His cock bounces free, hitting his stomach, and you have to stare for a moment. The tip is flushed pink and precum drips from the slit like a broken faucet. Your eyes slowly trail up his body, from his stomach, to the scar wrapped around his neck, till you're finally looking him in the face. His cheeks are ruddy, his lips parted ever so slightly, and he has this look in his eyes like nothing matters but you at the moment. Maintaining eye contact, you gingerly wrap your fingers around it.

He lets out an airy sigh, that you assume is of relief. You carefully start to move your hand up and down. You watch his eyes slowly flutter shut, and revel in the way pathetic whines begin to fall out of his mouth. To ease the friction, you let a glob of spit dribble onto the tip, using your hand to coat his entire length in your drool. His cock twitches in your hand. He must be close, you think. You work your hand faster, trying to push him to the edge as quickly as you can, but suddenly he's pulling your hand away, shaking his head.

"n-need you," he mewls, finger latching onto the band your shorts trying to tug them down. Throwing all caution to the wind, you oblige. You yank down your shorts and panties, throwing them on the floor. You crawl to him, tossing your legs over his thighs to straddle his lap. His hands fly to your hips, rucking up your oversized shirt to reveal your chest. He stares at you with wide, pleading eyes, silently begging for permission. Once you give a quiet go ahead, he’s instantly taking your nipple into his mouth. It's an odd sensation. His tongue is cool against your warm skin.

You let out a soft whine, and lift a hand to cradle the back of his head. You card your fingers through his hair, while you mutter soft praises, gently rocking yourself against his aching cock, but not letting it slip inside. His arms were wrapped around your middle, pulling you closer to him, like he wanted to be in your skin. You both stay like this for a while, soaking each other in. While it wasn't enough to get you off, you decided that was fine, and instead focused on getting him off. You were trying to make him feel good after all. You could help yourself later.

You were sure he could have came like this, and he seemed to realize that too because he reluctantly wrenched himself away from mouthing at your boob to line his aching cock with your slit. But he was clueless and couldn't quite get it so with a loving smile, you gently took his hand in yours and directed it to where it needed to go.

You slowly sink onto his cock, taking him inch by inch. You got about halfway before you decided to take a second and let yourself adjust to the size. Placing his hands on your hips, he forced you down. You let a startled gasp because of the abrupt fullness. The stretch burns, and he doesn't let you adjust before he begins to buck up into you.

You rest your hands on his shoulders for support, slightly digging your nails in to deal with the ache. You can barely gain your bearings with the way he forces you to bounce on his cock. The pain slowly melts into syrupy sweet pleasure, and everything quickly becomes overwhelming. The sound of his skin on yours, the feeling of his cold tongue on your skin, and the pangs of pleasure shooting through you.

You crash your mouths together because even if you don't want to admit it. You're just as attached to him as he is to you, and the urge to get closer than you already were was becoming unbearable. This kiss is awkward, but you can't bring yourself to mind. Your teeth clack together and your noses keep bumping. His tongue curiously prods into your mouth. Still, you melt into him, letting him explore every inch of you for as long as he'd like. His spit tastes earthy, and surprisingly it isn't that bad. You pull away to breathe, and he follows, pitifully chasing after you like a lost puppy.

His powerful thrusts have devolved into quick, shallow bunny humps, so you take it upon yourself to finish what he started. You place your hands on his chest lightly pushing him back. He doesn't resist, letting himself fall onto his elbows. He looks confused, kiss-swollen lips pulled into the cutest pout. It makes you want to smooch it off of his face. You lift yourself up, and it seems like you're about to pull off, but before his hands could rush back to your hips, you slam back down down.

The sound he lets out is guttural and loud. Your hand slaps over his mouth. He blinks, puzzled. You pull your hand away to press a finger against your lips. “Be quiet, they'll hear us,” you whisper, glancing behind you to make sure nobody is at the door. In the blink of an eye, you're not on top of him anymore. You are on your back now. Stunned, you stare vacantly at the ceiling. His hands grip your hips, sheathing himself back into the warmth of your cunt (when did he learn how to do that without you?)

He starts up that unforgiving pace again, ramming into you so hard the bed is wobbling beneath you. All you can do is take it. Silently praying that your bed will make it through the night. He effortlessly brushes that spongy spot inside of that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. you're quivering beneath him, unraveling like a ball of yarn in his hands. Pleasure sweeping any coherent thoughts away like a hurricane. That familiar ache builds in your stomach. Your cunt clenches around him, begging for release. Everything feels so good, it verges on painful. Your hands latch onto the sheets, holding on for dear life.

Kyle leans down to press wet, slimey kisses on your clavicle, lightly dragging his teeth against your skin. A few more brutal thrusts, and you're digging your nails into his back, softly whining. Your orgasm crashes over you like a current. You bite your lip to muffle the moans that threaten to come out, blinking away unshed tears. After your orgasm subsides, you're instantly being ushered into another one. “s too much, ky, I can't take another,” you hiccup, pressing a hand against Kyle's chest in a feeble attempt at pushing him off. You don't know if he just brushes you off on purpose, or if he did it without realizing because in spite of your pitiful request. His pace sped up.

He's grunting in your ear now, you can feel the hot puffs of air tickling your cheek. Plump tears roll down your face, your body trembling uncontrollably. He cums deep inside you, a blossom of warmth filling you up, but he doesn't stop rutting into you. Fucking it in further. You let out woeful, little squeaks. You're sniveling, and your poor, aching cunt weeps. You feel your second release rushing towards you, and all you can do is brace yourself. He's fucking you like he despises you, and if you didn't know anymore you would have been convinced you were his sworn enemy with the way he was bullying your cunt.

Your orgasm hits you like a strike to gut, somehow more intense than the last. Your back arches off the bed so far that someone might think you're possessed. The bitter taste of iron pervades your mouth. You didn't realize how hard you'd bitten your lip trying to be quiet. (Which is turning out to be an impossible feat, but at least you're trying.) you're gushing around him. Your arousal spills down onto the bed beneath you. You can feel the sheets sticking to your skin, and you remind yourself to lay down a towel or something next time. A few more agonizing seconds pass, and he's finally pulling out of you.

He collapses on top of you, and you take a moment to collect yourself. The icky feeling of laying in a pool of bodily fluids is the only reason you haven't passed out yet.

“Kyle, we gotta get up and take a shower,” you mumble, your body aches and your bones feel like jelly, but you can't go to sleep in these conditions.

He grumbles for a second. “sleep.”

you sigh, “i know, but we're all dirty now. We gotta clean up.” begrudgingly, he peels himself off of you. You get up rather slowly because of how unsteady you were on your feet. You snatch some clothes up for you and Kyle. You haul yourself to the bathroom, dragging Kyle behind you. You turned on the shower, letting the water run until it was warm enough to get in. “C’mon in,” you utter, stepping into the tub. You watch Kyle sluggishly walk to you. He looked so tired. Poor baby.

“Do you want me to help you bathe?” you inquire, quietly. He doesn't respond, just follows you in. He can barely keep his eyes open. You decide it's easier to just wash him instead of trying to wake him up. You grab a washcloth, apply some body wash, and massage it in till it lathers up. You start with his arms, and you can't help but follow all the veins as you travel your way up. Then you moved on to his chest. You could feel the bumps from where his head was sewn back on, your heart ached for him. He didn't deserve such an untimely death. You frown, shaking away those thoughts. He doesn't need your pity.

The rest goes relatively fast. He listens to your request to lift his legs and turn around, so you could reach his back. You speed through washing yourself, so you can get back to bed as soon as you possibly can. Once you’re done, you hop out and dry yourself off. As usual, you help Kyle dry off too. The two of you shuffle off to bed clean and content. You toss a blanket over your sullied sheets, you'll wash them later.

Collapsing onto the bed, you let out a relieved sigh. Sweet, sweet relaxation. Kyle follows suit, pulling you onto his chest. You grinned, silently enjoying his unending clinginess. “L-love you,” he murmured, and you feel a warmth beginning to bloom in your chest. “I love you too, Kyle,” you whisper. You don't know if he truly understands what he just said to you, but you choose not to think too hard about it. Scooting closer to him, you feel the tiredness hit you all at once. The comfortable arms of sleep luring you in.

#kyle spencer smut #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer x you #he's my baby boy #ahs coven #american horror story #kit walker x reader #kai anderson x reader #tate langdon x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #jadesfic

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leatherland · 2 months

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Sam Crockett and Kyle Brandon | Mustang's Dirty Stories

#Sam Crockett #Kyle Brandon #Dirty Stories #leather #gay leather #gayedit #uniform #userjimholden #usermichi #holesrus #**#by dylan

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redroses07 · 1 month

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real shit

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dangeroustaintedflawed · 2 months

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longgentlekiss · 2 years

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"My name is Luke cooper, I like films." ︴✧

#twilight #evan peters #tate langdon #kyle spencer #ahs hotel #ahs fandom #ahs coven #ahs murder house #ahstories #ahs apocalypse #ahs #american horror 1984 #american horror story #jimmy darling #the office

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elizaditton · 5 months

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Introducing Commercial Licenses For Kaylin Storie And Kyle Storie!

Commercial licenses are now available! If you wish to use the voice or image of Kaylin Storie, Derrick Storie, Kyle Storie, or Deborah Storie for commercial music production, it is now possible to purchase commercial licenses to do so! You can find these commercial licenses and more details about them on my Ko-fi!

As always, noncommercial use of the voice and/or image of these characters is completely free! :)

#utau #openutau #sing-your-storie #kaylin storie #kyle storie #commercial license

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 3 months

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YOU MATCH THE 141 ON TINDER 💓

Summary:

While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Pairing:

141 x Reader

poly!141 x Reader

The Beginning:

Teaser

Legend:

Red - Johnny

Orange - Kyle

Blue - John

Purple - Simon

Green - All of them

Chapters:

Prequel

1 - Kyle

2 - Johnny

3 - Simon

4 - John?

5 - GETTING LAID?

6 - John.

7 - Getting Laid!! 😈🌶️

8 - Awooga?

9 - Drinks?

10 - SIMON?!

11 - Excuse me?

12 - A date?

13 - Yes, and?

14 - (B)romance?

15 - Mo leannan

16 - Teeth.

17 - Guard dogs.

18 - Picnic.

19 - Slippery Slope. 😈🌶️

20 - Control 😈🌶️

21 - I BEG YOUR PARDON?

22 - What is it about you?

22.5 - Cardiff, London, Cairo, Cabo, Tel Aviv. 😈🌶️(mini chapter)

23 - Kiss and Tell?

24 - Pokémon

25 - Soap..................?

26 - Smart mouth 😈🌶️

Pre-27 - Away (mini chapter)

27 - Peace and Quiet

28 - How in the-

29 - Taking Turns

30 - Playing House.

31 - Uh-Oh.

32 - No Harm Done.

33 - Do You Think?

More chapters - COMING SOON!

Click here to see some fanart of "it's a match" chapter 14 "(B)romance)?" by my lovely moot @xxshadowbabexx.

[ MY MASTERLIST ]

[FIND MY FICS ON AO3]

THE TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED, not accepting any more requests! (I'm sorry, there's just too many people on it)

taglist below the cut

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

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newwavesylviaplath · 2 months

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evan peters i will always be waiting for you with open arms. and open legs. and an open mouth.

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 4 months

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02 / 627 words

You challenge Gaz to a pushup competition. And lose. What did you think would happen?

He keeps at it, though, maybe as a flex. Half-envious and half-curious, you lay on your stomach with your arms folded under your chin and watch him go. Gaz pushes himself up and down at the same even pace. You could always saboratge him, shove him over, but the satisfaction wouldn't last. Especially with his self-righteous ass taking it as permission to be a martyr about it. Wouldn't be the first time.

"Can you do those one-handed?" you ask him.

He glances at you. "Doesn't do much good for my triceps, but yeah, I can handle it."

"So what? Triceps, pff. The point of one-handed pushups is looking cool."

"If you can pull it off."

"Can you?"

"Obviously."

Gaz pushes up a little harder, repositioning one hand so it's centered under him when he comes down. The other hand he puts behind his back. To your disappointment, he continues with ease. He holds his body in perfect alignment despite the sheen of sweat glazing his skin.

"Wow, fine." You make yourself sound as unimpressed as possible. "Of course you can do it with your dominant arm. What about the other one?"

Gaz switches sides without missing a rep, making it look just as easy. You frown.

"That what you meant?" he asks.

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay, that was smooth," you admit.

"It's all in the form. Keep everything straight and taut. Can't do it properly if your body's all loose and jerking around."

"Uh-huh," you say absently. "What about weighted pushups? Like what if there were something on your back?"

"I've done it before. How come you want to know?"

"Just wondering what if I, like, sat on your back while you did it. Do you think you'd be strong enough?"

"Ah, is that it?" Gaz grins. He pauses his reps with his arm taught but slightly bent, bracing him in a plank. "Try it."

"Really?"

"I can take it."

"I'm heavy."

"Mmm, sure you are. Come on."

Gaz lowers himself to the ground. You hesitate, but he's not letting you back out. He's calling your bluff and he knows it.

"Chickening out?"

You huff and push yourself to your knees. "You wish."

You feel like a ton of clumsy bricks, lowering yourself down onto his back. You really try not to think about how your hand lands right above his shoulder blade or how his tank top leaves so much of his muscled back and shoulders exposed or how your ass slides against the firm curve of his lower back. You pray you're not too heavy. But Gaz either doesn't notice or doesn't mind. As soon as you're situated, draped over him sort of on your back and sort of on your side, he resumes his reps. Slower. Like he's accommodating you as you adjust.

You keep as still as you can. Gaz is as focused and professional as ever. But this is a bit more intimate than you anticipated. Damn him for forcing you to contend with the consequences of your actions. It's impossible not to notice and feel his back muscles at work. His strength is impressive. You're dismayed at the very idea that you thought you could beat Gaz in a test of arm strength. Hubris, that's what it was.

"Is this... helping? The weight?"

"Helping my training? Yeah, it seems to be working. You're good resistance."

"Oh. Thanks. Glad to be of service."

"Yeah? You feel alright on top of me?"

Your cheeks go a little pink at his phrasing. "Yeah. Best seat in the house."

"Is it?" Gaz wears a cheeky smirk, though you can't see it. "Keep it there, then. I like a little extra motivation."

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

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