hunzzzzz

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies: part 6

Summary: During a tense weekend in the Hamptons, Diane's pursuit of a story involving Kendall Roy takes a turn. Diane's journalistic detachment wavers, replaced by growing empathy. The escalating emotions of the weekend threaten to overwhelm her.

TW: smut on the beach, face sitting, vaginal fingering, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation

A/N: oooohh Kendall is so baby girl, I just want to give him a big hug

🦋🐟🐬🐠🧢🐳🩵👕🖌️🛋️🫂🎽🐋💦🌊💧🧊🪼🫐

Kendall watched Diane shift restlessly beside him, the moonlight from the window painting her face in stark contrasts of light and shadow. "Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

"Nope," she yawned, her eyes wide and dark. "You?"

He turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Same here. Just… a lot on my mind."

Diane turned to face him, her brow furrowed slightly. "What is it?"

He sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of years. "Oh, you know. Just ever shitty thing that's happened since I can remember."

Diane's lips curved into a small, sympathetic smile. "Yeah, like what?"

"Like the time when I was 7, I got a dog for my birthday. A little golden retriever puppy I named Scout. I was obsessed with him. He was my best friend, the only thing in my life that felt genuinely mine, unconditionally loving. One afternoon, I was walking him in the park, and I let him off the leash for just a second. He ran off, chasing a squirrel. I searched for hours, called his name until my voice was hoarse. I never found him. My parents didn't care. They just said, 'It's just a dog,' and got me a new one a few weeks later— but it wasn’t the same. Nothing could ever replace Scout; he was precious."

"Or sparring with my dad… he used to make me box with him, at the ripe age of, what, 10? 11? He’d put on these old, worn-out gloves, and tell me to ‘toughen up.’ He wouldn’t hold back. Not really. He’d hit me hard enough to bruise, sometimes. One time, he knocked me down, and I remember just lying there on the floor, staring up at him. He just stood over me, saying ‘You're not hurt. Get up.’ It wasn’t about teaching me to defend myself. It was about… proving something. To himself, I guess. That he was strong. That I was weak. That I was his to break." He ran a hand through his hair, a flicker of pain crossing his features. 

Diane's eyes widened, a genuine sympathy in their depths. "Oh Kendall, that's… awful."

A bitter chuckle escaped Kendall's lips. "Oh, and how could I ever forget the custody battle… they lined us up, me, Shiv, and Rome, and picked us, one by one, like we were being auctioned off. I was the last one left. The 'leftover.' My mom was so mortified—more by the optics, I think, than by my actual feelings—that she renegotiated the whole thing just to avoid taking me." He shook his head, the memory still sharp after all these years.

“I’m sorry, Kendall.” Diane whispered.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," he said, his voice flat, almost devoid of emotion. "When I was thirteen, my first girlfriend admitted she only dated me to climb the social ladder. Dumped me the second she realized I wasn't going to get her into the 'in' crowd. It wasn't even personal, really. I was just a means to an end." He shrugged, but the gesture didn't quite mask the lingering hurt. 

"And then, a few years later, my grandfather, who was like a father to me—the only father I ever truly knew—got sick. I spent months visiting him in the hospital, watching him fade away. The day he died, I was supposed to give a presentation in class. I went anyway, thinking I could compartmentalize. I got halfway through, broke down in front of everyone, and ran out of the room. I never finished the presentation. I never even went back to that class."

"But you learned from it, right?" Diane said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. Her fingers were cool against his skin. “You wouldn’t be who you are today if you didn’t get such tough skin from all of that, right?”

Kendall gave a wry, humorless smile. "I learned that some people are users. I learned that even hard work can lead to disaster. I learned that grief can hit you at the most inconvenient times. I learned that my own father saw me as something to conquer, not to nurture. And that sometimes, even your own mother can’t bear to look at you. I don't think a kid needs to learn all that. I should have been worried about algebra, not social manipulation and the casual cruelty of the people who were supposed to protect me." He looked at Diane, his eyes searching, pleading for understanding. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"No," she said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I like listening to you." She pulled her hand back, tucking it under the covers. In the dim light, Kendall couldn't see the way her fingers were twisting the fabric of the sheet.

"What about you?" he asked gently. "What's keeping you up?"

Diane hesitated, her heart pounding against her ribs. The image of the box, the tape, the crimson stain on the rough cloth, the file , flashed through her mind. I killed him. It was an accident. The words echoed in her head, a chilling mantra. She swallowed hard, forcing them back down. She glanced at Kendall, at the genuine concern in his eyes, and a wave of guilt washed over her.

"Just… a light sleeper." she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. She pulled the covers up to her chin, as if trying to shield herself from his questions. It wasn't a lie, not entirely, but the truth was buried beneath layers of fear and desperation.

"Oh, shit my bad. I’m sorry for waking you, I uh, I sometimes get night terrors.” He muttered an apology, feeling guilty. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, “I was just worried about you.”

“Don't let me keep you up. You need your precious beauty sleep.” He gently brushed her hair away from her forehead, his touch lingering.

When Kendall looked at Diane, a feeling bloomed in his chest, unfamiliar and potent. Was it love? A terrifying, exhilarating possibility. He’d never known it, not from Logan Roy, a man whose billions couldn’t buy him an ounce of paternal warmth. Logan’s affection was transactional, reserved for business deals and power plays, never for his children. 

And his mother, Caroline… Caroline was a ghost in his life, a beautiful, brittle creature more concerned with her social standing than her offspring. She’d never breastfed her children, couldn't be bothered with the messy, intimate act of nurturing. From the moment they were born, they were handed off to a rotating cast of nannies and maids, their cries and needs a mere inconvenience to her perfectly manicured existence.

He’d spent his life chasing his parents’ approval, believing achievement would unlock their love. He’d excelled in school, captained the lacrosse team, pursued every venture his father suggested, hoping to finally earn a flicker of recognition, a word of praise. But their indifference had become a constant hum in the background of his life, a confirmation of his inherent unworthiness. Their eyes, when they did fall on him, held a chilling emptiness, as if they were looking through him, not at him. After the divorce, Caroline had all but vanished, choosing to settle for sprawling estates and lucrative investments rather than fight for custody. Land and property held more value to her than her own children. It was a stark, brutal message: they were disposable.

Even his marriage to Rava, a logical, expected step, had lacked a spark. It was a union born of societal pressure and a desperate attempt to create a semblance of normalcy, not love. Fatherhood, too, had failed to fill the void, overshadowed by Logan’s dismissive attitude towards his grandchildren, treating them as pawns in his ongoing power games.

Then there was Diane. At first, a welcome distraction, a brief respite from the crushing weight of his family’s legacy. Now… something more. She didn’t demand perfection or offer conditional acceptance like his family. Their shared experiences of childhood pain, though different in their specifics, resonated deeply. They understood the unspoken language of neglect, the constant ache of feeling unseen. Unlike Rava, who tried to mold him into a version of himself she found acceptable, Diane simply listened . She saw him, the real him, with all his flaws and insecurities. With Rava, he’d always worn a mask, playing the role of the successful husband and father, a performance he could never quite perfect, especially with his father’s critical gaze always in his mind.

Diane had found him in the depths of despair. The night they met, he was a wreck, a monument to self-destruction, lost in a haze of expensive whiskey, crushed pills, and a self-loathing that gnawed at him from the inside out. He’d been on the verge of oblivion, teetering on the precipice of something dark and irreversible. But instead of recoiling like everyone else—the concerned glances that quickly turned to averted eyes, the hushed whispers of “poor Kendall,” the thinly veiled disgust—she’d offered a brief respite from his agony. 

And it wasn't just that one night. It was the weeks that followed, the slow, agonizing unraveling of Vaulter, the public humiliation, the feeling of utter failure that threatened to consume him. He’d expected her to disappear, to join the chorus of disappointed voices, to add her name to the long list of people who had abandoned him. But she didn't. When he was down in the dumps, curled up in the fetal position on his couch, reeking of stale liquor and despair, she stayed. She didn't try to fix him, didn't offer empty platitudes or unsolicited advice. She simply sat with him, a silent presence in his storm. She offered comfort in small gestures: a hand on his shoulder, a gentle stroke of his hair, a massage; her touch was a welcome distraction—only she could make him feel good..

He’d never known such kindness, such unwavering acceptance. His past relationships had been built on performance, on the expectation that he would always be the strong one, the successful one, the one who had it all together. With Diane, there were no expectations, no masks to maintain. He could be his broken, flawed self, and she wouldn't flinch.

Kendall was falling in love, a sensation entirely new to him, a terrifying and exhilarating freefall. He’d never known such a profound connection, such a deep and abiding affection. The love he’d witnessed had always been conditional, transactional, a tool for manipulation or a means to an end. He’d always doubted his capacity for love, his worthiness of it, convinced that he was incapable of giving or receiving such a pure and vulnerable emotion. Yet, here he was, feeling it for the first time.

And he would do anything to keep this woman in his life. The feeling he felt was aggressive and fraught— he wanted her with panic and passion. 

————————————————————————-

Kendall woke up in the predawn hours, sleep eluding him. He watched Diane, her peaceful form curled away from him. A surge of affection washed over him, and he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her protectively. Soon, he was lulled back to sleep by the warmth of her body.

The first slivers of dawn pierced the curtains, painting the room in shades of grey. Diane stirred, her eyes snapping open. She was trapped, a prisoner in Kendall’s suffocating embrace. His grip was a vise. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, a low rumble against her ear.

“Let me up,” she said, a tremor in her voice as she tried to subtly pry his fingers loose.

“You’re so warm,” he protested, his hold tightening, a possessive edge creeping into his tone. “What’s the rush?”

Panic flared in Diane’s chest. Under her pillow, hidden from view, lay the box– the box containing the evidence. She had to move it, now. Before he saw. “I just… I like to start my day early,” she stammered, forcing a lightness into her voice, desperately trying to coax him out of bed, away from the pillow.

“Five more minutes,” he groaned, pulling her even closer, his breath hot on her neck.

“You’re such a diva,” she teased, a brittle laugh escaping her lips. Inside, her mind raced, calculating, strategizing. The seconds ticked by like hammer blows.

Kendall held her captive for what felt like an eternity, a suffocating closeness that made her skin crawl. Finally, with a sigh of exaggerated reluctance, he relented, but only after she promised him a “special present” and whispered promises of making him “feel good” after his shower – a promise that tasted like ash in her mouth.

The moment he was out of sight, the bathroom door clicking shut, Diane lunged for the pillow. Her fingers closed around the box, cold and hard in her trembling hand. She shoved it deep into her bag. A wave of nausea washed over her. This trip. This charade. It was all about uncovering the truth behind the cruise scandal, a truth buried deep beneath layers of lies and deceit. The stakes were higher than she’d ever imagined. This information was crucial, not just for her article, but for something much bigger. She took a shaky breath, steeling her resolve. No matter the cost.

When Kendall emerged, freshly showered and radiating an oblivious charm, Diane was already in the kitchen, forcing herself to appear calm and collected.

“I was promised a reward?” Kendall announced, a playful grin spreading across his face. 

“Yes, you were,” Diane replied, a smirk playing on her lips. She slid a mug of steaming coffee towards him across the counter. “I made you coffee.” Of course, she knew he was expecting something more than coffee.

“You played me,” he pouted, his playful tone not quite masking a hint of disappointment.

“I never specified anything,” she giggled, her tone light and teasing.

“Maybe you just need some energy,” he suggested, his eyes twinkling with a playful light. He took a sip of the coffee, then set the mug down with a decisive clink. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

It was the last thing she wanted. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to flee, to return home with the file and the box, to dissect every piece of evidence, to finally break this story wide open. The need for a breakthrough was a burning obsession. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She forced a smile, a mask of compliance. 

“Sure,” she agreed, her voice light and airy. She knew she had to play along, at least for now.

—————————————————————————

“Where are we going?” Diane asked, watching the blossoming trees blur past the window. She rolled it down, welcoming the spring breeze that tousled her hair, a fleeting moment of normalcy in the tense undercurrent between them.

Breakfast had been a strained affair. Kendall, clearly exhausted from a restless night, yawned incessantly, a stark contrast to his usual vibrant self. He pushed through it, though, his gaze fixed on Diane, as if her mere presence could ward off his fatigue. Spending time with her was paramount.

“It’s a surprise,” Kendall said, glancing at her, a look of almost unsettling adoration in his eyes. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, a flicker of suspicion igniting within her.

“Well,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your horoscope said you were going to have a day full of nostalgia and adventures. It said you’d spend it with a special someone.” He winked, the gesture feeling strangely heavy.

“Bullshit,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “You’re winding me up. Ha ha.” The laugh felt forced, brittle.

“I’m not,” he insisted earnestly. “That’s what it said on Elle, swear on my life.”

“But you don’t even believe in that stuff,” she said, narrowing her eyes, trying to decipher if this was some elaborate joke, or something far more unsettling.

“Yeah, but you do, so it doesn’t matter what I think,” he replied, taking her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, resting their joined hands in her lap. The casual intimacy felt like a violation.

“You’re creeping me out now, seriously,” she rolled her eyes. “What is this secret location you’re taking me to?” 

The unease wasn’t just about the mystery destination. It was about his sudden, intense focus on her, the way he seemed to be cataloging her every like and dislike. It was a dangerous game he was playing, a slippery slope that would inevitably lead to probing questions, intimate inquiries that she couldn’t afford.

Diane was always on edge around Kendall, a constant state of vigilance. She could never let her guard down, every word carefully weighed, every action meticulously planned. The risk of her cover being blown was a constant, suffocating pressure. The strain was taking its toll, a stark contrast to the easy comfort Kendall seemed to radiate in her presence. He was free, open, while she was trapped in a cage of her own making.

“Relax, you’re so tense,” he said, squeezing her hand again, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Mhmm,” Diane mumbled, offering a weak, uneasy smile.

Finally, Kendall parked the car. He climbed out, then rounded the vehicle, opening Diane’s door, offering his hand to help her out. As the building came into view, her breath caught in her throat. It was an aquarium. A genuine smile touched her lips.

“I know your Pisces quirks,” he smirked, a smug satisfaction in his voice, pulling her towards the entrance. “You love water.” The casual observation, the way he’d filed away this small detail about her, sent another wave of unease through her. This wasn’t just a date. It was something else. Something she couldn’t quite define, but it felt like a trap closing around her.

The aquarium was a kaleidoscope of blues and greens, a mesmerizing underwater world teeming with life. Diane was captivated. Schools of shimmering fish darted past coral reefs, rays glided effortlessly through the water, and majestic sharks patrolled their domain. For a brief, precious moment, she forgot about the box, the lies, the constant vigilance. She was simply Diane, a woman enjoying the wonders of the ocean.

They watched playful sea otters tumble over each other, their sleek bodies twirling in the water. They stood mesmerized by the graceful ballet of jellyfish, their translucent forms pulsating with an ethereal glow. They even braved the touch tank, Diane hesitantly reaching out to stroke the rough skin of a starfish. Laughter bubbled up from her, genuine and unrestrained, a sound Kendall drank in like a man parched in a desert.

But the idyllic atmosphere began to shift as Kendall’s curiosity, previously charming, turned into something more intense. He started asking questions, probing beneath the surface, wanting to know the real Diane, the woman hidden behind the carefully constructed façade.

“What’s your favorite exhibit so far?” he asked, his eyes fixed on her, searching.

“Probably the beluga whales,” she replied, her gaze still on the massive white creatures swimming in their tank. “They’re so intelligent.”

“Like you,” he murmured, then, more pointedly, “So uh, what do you do for fun? You love the water, I know that much, but what else?”

The question hung in the air, the lightheartedness of the moment dissipating. Diane hesitated. “I… I don’t really have much time for fun,” she said, a half-truth slipping past her lips. “Work keeps me pretty busy.”

“You’re always working,” he observed, a hint of concern in his voice. “Don’t you have any friends? People you hang out with?”

“Not really,” Diane paused, considering her response. “I mean, I have friends,” she corrected herself, a slight catch in her throat. “I do. But I… I just don’t have time for them. I can’t explain it. When I’m with them, all I’m thinking about is the next project at work. I’m there, but not really there. Work alway has and will be my number one priority.”

It was the truth. Diane’s work ethic was relentless, bordering on obsessive. Late nights in the office were the norm, not the exception. She refused to leave until she was satisfied, driven by an internal engine that never seemed to run out of fuel.

This drive stemmed from her upbringing. Raised by hard working parents, she had learned the value of perseverance and dedication from a young age. Both her mother and father had worked tirelessly to provide her with the best life possible. Her mother, a dedicated nurse, often picked up extra shifts around holidays like her birthday and Christmas, sacrificing precious time to afford her the most luxurious gifts. Her father, a hardworking businessman who ran a small advertising company, had saved every penny from the day she was born to fund her college education. “You’re destined for greatness,” he would often tell her, instilling in her a deep belief in her own potential.

Driven by a potent mix of ambition and gratitude, Diane had excelled in her studies. Her near-perfect GPA had opened doors, leading her to a successful career in journalism. She poured her heart and soul into her work, striving for excellence in everything she did. This relentless drive was the reason she was so immersed in this current article, the cruise scandal. She had been promised a promotion, a reward she could almost taste. But beneath the professional ambition lay a deeper motivation: to make her parents proud. She wanted to show them that their sacrifices, their tireless efforts, hadn’t been in vain. She had to.

Kendall’s expression clouded slightly. “That’s… kind of sad,” he said softly. “Everyone needs someone.”

“My parents— my mom, she sacrificed everything for me,” she said, her voice softening. “That’s why I work so hard. I can’t let her down.”

“So that’s what drives you?” Kendall asked, his voice gentle. “The need to make them proud?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “I guess it is.”

The conversation had taken a decidedly personal turn. Diane felt exposed, vulnerable. She had revealed more than she intended, offering glimpses into her past, half-truths woven with genuine emotion. Kendall, on the other hand, seemed satisfied, a small smile playing on his lips. He had learned something new about her, something he thought brought them closer. But for Diane, it was a dangerous game, a tightrope walk between truth and deception, and she knew she couldn’t keep it up forever.

“I… I can relate to that, Diane,” Kendall said, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. “My dad… I was never good enough for him. Still amn’t.” He looked away, his gaze lost in the swirling water of a nearby tank, as if re-living a painful memory. “I spent my whole life trying to make him proud. But I always fail. Every single time.”

He recounted a harrowing memory, his voice laced with bitterness. “Even after he had the stroke… I went to see him once he woke up. He could barely speak, but he still managed to call me a ‘fucking moron.’ Even on his deathbed, he couldn’t bring himself to say he was proud.” A shudder ran through him. “I’m terrified,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “Terrified that his dying words will be that I’m a failure.”

The raw emotion in his voice was unsettling. Diane, ever the opportunist, saw a chance to delve deeper, to gather more information about Logan Roy, the man behind the monster. This wasn't about genuine empathy; it was about the story, the information she desperately needed.

“Why?” she asked, her voice soft, feigning concern. “Why did you let him treat you like that?”

Kendall hesitated, a flicker of pain crossing his face. He looked at Diane, his eyes filled with a deep, almost desperate need for understanding. “He’s holding some shit over my head, to control me,” he admitted, his voice strained. 

Diane’s pulse quickened. This was it. This was the opening she’d been waiting for. His confession he murmured in his sleep last night: “I killed him. It was an accident.” 

“What is it?” she pressed gently, her voice laced with feigned sympathy. She had to tread carefully; pushing too hard would raise suspicion.

Kendall looked away again, his expression a mixture of shame and fear. He remained silent for a long moment, the only sound the gentle hum of the aquarium’s filtration system. The tension in the air was palpable.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t… It’s nothing… never mind,” he said, shaking his head slowly. 

She softened her expression, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

Diane pressed further, her mind racing, trying to find a new angle to extract the information she craved. She remembered Kendall’s restless night, his night terror. “Was that what your nightmare was about last night?” she asked, her voice soft and concerned, tilting her head slightly. “Your dad?”

Kendall flinched, a visible ripple of discomfort passing over his face. He looked away, his gaze darting around the aquarium, landing on nothing in particular. The playful sea otters, the graceful jellyfish, the imposing sharks – none of it seemed to register. He was lost in his own private world of pain and fear.

He hesitated for a long moment, then shook his head slowly. “No,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “It wasn’t about him.”

The curt response hung in the air, a clear signal that the subject was closed. Diane could see the shutters coming down, the walls rising back up around him. He wasn’t going to offer any more information, not willingly.

She tried a different tack, softening her tone, feigning a casual interest. “Nightmares can be so strange,” she said, forcing a light chuckle. “Sometimes they’re just random images and feelings, not really about anything specific.”

Kendall remained silent, his gaze fixed on the swirling water of a nearby tank. He didn’t respond, didn’t offer any further explanation. The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

Kendall abruptly changed the topic, the shift in his mood almost jarring. “Let’s go play with the penguins,” he announced, a forced lightness in his voice. He reached for Diane’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, and began walking briskly in their direction, as if trying to outpace the heavy emotions that had just hung between them.

As they walked, Diane’s mind replayed everything Kendall had just revealed. A strange feeling stirred within her, something she hadn’t anticipated. A flicker of… empathy? It was an unwelcome sensation, a crack in the carefully constructed wall she had built around herself. Kendall, the man she had pegged as powerful, perhaps even villainous, suddenly appeared different. He seemed like a little boy trapped in a man’s body, a broken soul struggling beneath a surface of wealth and privilege.

She saw him now, not as the entitled heir she had imagined, but as a victim of circumstance. He was trapped under the oppressive weight of his father, unable to break free. The image of the spoiled rich bachelor began to crumble, replaced by a more nuanced, complex picture. Perhaps his behavior, his flaws, were a direct result of his upbringing, of the tyrannical figure that loomed over his life.

Diane was slowly peeling back his layers, uncovering the pain and hurt he carried deep within. A father who was a tyrant, wielding his power like a weapon. His mother hadn’t just left; she had abandoned them. Abandoned him and his siblings in the midst of a bitter divorce, choosing material possessions, property, over her own children. A brother who had betrayed him, a wound that cut deeper than any physical injury. It was a devastating combination, a recipe for deep-seated trauma. The image of a villain that she had expected dissolved completely, replaced by the stark reality of a deeply wounded child.

Kendall hadn’t just been through a “terrible childhood”; he had endured a series of profound betrayals, wounds that had clearly never healed. It wasn’t just about being rich and privileged; it was about the absence of love, the lack of emotional support, the deep-seated feeling of being unwanted.

The penguins, with their comical waddle and playful antics, provided a temporary distraction. Diane was genuinely delighted by their antics, she pointed out their individual quirks, laughing as they slipped and slid on the ice. Kendall found himself smiling, drawn in by her infectious enthusiasm, his earlier melancholy momentarily forgotten.

But even as Diane laughed alongside him, the feeling of empathy lingered. It was a disconcerting sensation, one she struggled to reconcile with her mission. She was supposed to be objective, focused on the story, not emotionally invested in the subject. Yet, she couldn’t deny the shift in her perception of Kendall. He was no longer just a source of information, a pawn– but he was also a victim. 

The game had changed. It wasn't just about getting the story anymore; it was about something much more complicated, something she couldn't quite define.

—————————————————————————-

The afternoon was a promise of summer, a taste of the warmth to come. The Hamptons air, still carrying a hint of spring’s crispness, held the faintest whisper of salt and blooming beach roses. The sky, a brilliant, almost blinding blue, stretched endlessly overhead, the sun a benevolent presence warming their skin. From her perch on the yacht, Diane’s gaze swept across the scene: the coastline, a gentle curve of sand dunes and swaying beach grass, punctuated by the stately homes that lined the shore, their weathered shingles gleaming in the sunlight. The water, a vibrant turquoise, shimmered and danced, reflecting the sun’s rays like a thousand tiny diamonds. A few early sailboats, their white sails billowing in the gentle breeze, dotted the horizon, harbingers of the summer fleet soon to arrive.

Kendall, however, remained oblivious to the beauty surrounding him, lost in a deep, much-needed slumber. He was sprawled across a cushioned sunbed, his face turned towards the sun, absorbing its warmth like a cat basking in a sunbeam. He’d been wound tight all morning, a restless energy simmering beneath his usually controlled exterior, but the gentle rocking of the yacht and the warmth of the afternoon had finally coaxed him into a state of rare tranquility. His head rested comfortably on Diane’s bare thighs, his dark hair tousled, a shadow of stubble darkening his jaw.

Diane, seated on the edge of the sunbed, a well-worn paperback resting open in her lap, sipped her Prosecco, the tiny bubbles a pleasant tickle against her lips. The sun warmed her skin, but she was mindful of Kendall’s fair complexion. Every so often, she’d squeeze a generous dollop of high-SPF sunscreen onto her hand and gently rub it into his exposed back, her touch light and careful, avoiding the faint scars that marred his skin – she wondered how he got them, was his father so cruel?

He stirred in his sleep, a soft murmur escaping his lips. “Mmm… thanks,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He shifted slightly, nuzzling his face deeper into her thigh, a small, almost childlike gesture. For the first time in his life, someone was truly taking care of him, protecting him, not from physical harm, but from the constant, gnawing anxieties that plagued his mind. It was a small, almost insignificant act of care, but in its simplicity, it felt profoundly significant.

—————————————————————————-

After the sunset, they returned to the shore, the last vestiges of daylight painting the sky in hues of fading rose and soft lavender. Fine grains of sand clung to their skin. Diane was sprawled comfortably beside him on a beach blanket, his oversized Yale sweatshirt draped over her bikini, the sleeves swallowed by her small hands. 

It was a stark contrast to her usual meticulously curated appearance— the tailored skirts that skimmed her knees, the crisp blouses buttoned just so, the subtle but perfectly applied makeup that enhanced her features. This casual, almost childlike version of Diane, with her hair tousled by the sea breeze and her face bare of makeup. 

He knew it was pathetic, this almost obsessive focus on her appearance. He was a man who commanded boardrooms, negotiated billion-dollar deals, and yet, he was utterly captivated by the way the fading light caught the curve of her cheek, by the way her bare feet ruffled in the sand. He was pathetic, he knew that, and yet he simply couldn’t bring himself to care. Not at this moment. Not when she looked like this.

She looked so perfect, it was bordering on painful. It was a low, simmering ache in his gut, a tightening in his chest that made it hard to breathe. He swore it was driving him clinically insane. So good that it was making his genius brain, the one that could dissect complex financial models and strategize corporate takeovers, malfunction. And, if he was being brutally honest with himself, it was also making his downstairs ‘brain’ run on overdrive.

She began to trace patterns in the sky with her finger, her voice soft and hushed, as if sharing a sacred secret. “See that bright one there?” she asked, pointing towards a star just beginning to pierce the twilight. “That’s Arcturus, one of the brightest stars in the spring sky. It’s part of the constellation Boötes, the herdsman. You can find it by following the arc of the Big Dipper’s handle.”

Kendall followed her gaze, his eyes drawn to the emerging point of light. The sky was still transitioning from day to night, a gradient of deep blues and purples, making the few visible stars seem all the more precious. “It’s just starting to come out,” he murmured, a genuine sense of wonder in his voice.

Diane smiled, her eyes reflecting the nascent starlight. “Exactly,” she said. “It’s a sign of spring, a promise of warmer nights to come. And over there,” she continued, shifting her finger slightly, “that’s Leo, the lion. See how it kind of looks like a backwards question mark? Regulus is its brightest star, marking the lion’s heart.” She traced the constellation’s shape in the sky, her finger moving with a graceful precision. “It’s a powerful image, a symbol of strength and courage.”

“Strength,” Kendall repeated, the word catching in his throat. He’d spent so much of his life trying to project an image of strength, a mask that was constantly threatening to slip. The idea of genuine inner strength, the kind that Diane seemed to possess effortlessly, felt like a distant, unattainable dream.

“Yeah,” Diane said, her gaze still fixed on the heavens. “And if you look a little further down, you can see Virgo, associated with the harvest, another sign of the coming abundance of summer. Spring is all about new beginnings, right? A time for things to grow and bloom.” She paused, taking a deep breath of the cool, fragrant air. “It makes you think about possibilities, about what could be.”

Her words, her quiet enthusiasm, had a grounding effect on Kendall. The emerging stars, the ancient stories woven into the constellations, the promise of spring’s renewal, created a space outside of his own anxieties. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt present, connected to something larger than himself, anchored to the earth beneath him. The sand beneath him felt solid, the cool spring air on his skin felt refreshing, and the woman beside him, with her quiet wisdom and gentle spirit, felt like a lifeline in the encroaching darkness.

Kendall admired Diane’s side profile, she was beautiful, not in the polished, calculated way she often presented herself to the world, but in a raw, natural way that took his breath away. Spring was in the air, and it seemed to have breathed new life into her as well. The moonlight cast long shadows across the sand, illuminating the delicate curve of Diane’s cheek, the soft curve of her lips. 

"You look so beautiful," Kendall murmured, his voice low and husky, the sound barely audible above the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. He leaned in, gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly across her cheekbones. His touch was feather-light, hesitant, as if he were afraid she might shatter if he held her too tightly. And then he kissed her.

The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, like a question being asked rather than a statement being made. Gentle. Nothing rushed. It wasn't the kind of kiss they'd shared before. Their previous encounters had been charged with a different kind of energy, a raw, almost desperate urgency fueled by lust, by the heat of the moment during sex. Those kisses had been demanding, possessive, frantic. 

This was different. This was tender, almost hesitant, a soft exploration rather than a passionate conquest. It was the first time they had kissed like this, fully clothed. The lines blurred in Diane’s mind; this felt dangerously close to real. 

She pulled back slightly, a flicker of confusion, perhaps even a hint of fear, in her eyes. 

Kendall, sensing her hesitation, didn't pull away. He simply stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, his eyes a silent plea, a desperate yearning for something he couldn't quite articulate. He wanted this connection, this moment, to be real, to mean something. He so desperately wanted the heavens above to answer the silent prayer in his heart, to grant him this one thing he craved above all else: genuine, unconditional love.

Diane got lost in his hazel eyes, those pools of vulnerability and longing. Against her better judgment, she leaned back in, her own hand reaching up to touch his arm. Their lips met again, this time with a greater sense of urgency, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Their lips moved in sync, it felt bizarre, wrong on so many levels. This wasn't supposed to happen. But for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to forget about her plan.

Kendall was kissing her like he was terrified. Terrified he would wake up and it would’ve all been a dream, a fleeting mirage in the desert of his loneliness. He held onto her as if she might disappear at any moment, his lips pressing against hers with a desperate, almost frantic tenderness. He rolled them over, a slow, deliberate movement that shifted their positions on the beach. Now, Diane straddled his hips, her knees sinking slightly into the cool, damp grains of sand. 

“Sit on my face,” Kendall pleaded, squeezing her ass. She frowned as he laid his head down, getting cozy with his head on the sand, still smirking, patting his mouth comically—an invitation. 

“What?” Diane asked not sure what to make of his unusual request. She knew it was a private beach but it still felt too exposed.

When she didn’t move he lifted his head back up, “Come on,” he urged her, tapping her hips to nudge her along, “let me taste you. Sit. On. My. Face.”

Kendall couldn't resist not eating her out whenever he had the chance. She slowly crawled up over him, hesitating once she was straddling his chest, unable to hold back a blush. His warm hands are quick to hook around her thighs, sliding his thumb over her hip bones as she hovered in front of his chin, “come closer.”

He lifted his head up when she finally scooted forward, still hovering. Kendall kissed her inner thigh, smirking as her hips bucked lower towards his touch. 

“Sacred I’m gonna bite?” His lips moved against her thigh, his stubble tickling her as he spoke.

“No, I don’t want to suffocate you.” She pushed her fingers through his hair, gripping at his roots.

“I wish you would, ” he groaned, pulling her lower so he didn’t have to crane his neck to taste her. He licked the wet spot on her bikini, lapping at her juices, moaning before flattening his tongue, dragging it up to her clit to suck lightly through the fabric. 

It wasn’t long before had enough of the thin material blocking his way, aggressively pulling on the strings over her hips to untie it, so he could finally lick her how he wanted. Which she quickly realized was mercilessly. He was hungry—starved for something only her pussy could satiate, drinking her in like he was dehydrated. It was intense. He ate with reverence, slurping loudly and humming in appreciation, his hot lips suctioning on her clit till she was seeing stars. 

Diane’s feedback was choppy, like her brain couldn’t sync up in time to react to his movements— to the sensations. It was all broken moans and shudders, the only thing consistent is the way she pulled his hair.

She was leaning more and more of her weight onto his face and rocking , occasionally lifting a bit when she remembered her self-control. But after she lifted one too many times, Kendall’s fingers tightened around her thighs, holding her close with an ironclad grip— making her squirm.

Kendall was delighted as he peered up at her beneath drunk lashes, eyes just as dazed as his mind as he watched her sumptuous body move on top of him. She tasted like cloyingly honey on the tip of his tongue, her essence lingering in the back of his throat every time he swallowed. He chased the slick beads as they dripped down her plump thighs, greedy mouth attacking her soft insides as she moaned on top of him, her pussy drooling and clenching around nothing as the hot coil inside of her twisted tighter. He groaned against her searing skin, his hot breath tickling her sensitive flesh as every hair on the nape of her neck stood up.

"So beautiful" Kendall muttered, voice dripping with reverence. "You look so beautiful tonight."

He etched the intimate scene into his mind as a pleasant itch tingled at the base of his skull, fingers twitching around her plump hips as he squeezed the pillowy soft skin. His tongue lapped at the dripping seam of her cunt; prying open the puffy folds as indulged in more of your slick nectar flowing from her core like a river. 

Diane almost choked on a hiccup of pleasure, her clit weakly kicking against the press of his nose as he sealed his mouth over her entrance. Her blood simmered in her veins, pulling and tugging on his raven locks, hips shaking as she tried to contain her sudden spike in arousal twisting low in the pit of her gut. A constellation of tears clung to the edges of her lashes as stars swirled in her vision, voice stinging her throat as she struggled to breathe. 

Her legs trembled, her full weight failing upon his lips and tongue—and Kendall couldn’t have been more grateful . It didn't take long for his mouth to become sloppy,  drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. 

Diane’s vision began to blur. She couldn’t tell if it was from tears welling up or the overwhelming sensation building in her core. She was dripping so, so sweetly, and Kendall beneath her hummed, hungry, ravenous, he needed more, he wanted to eat her whole. His tongue slowly circled her bud, and oh fuck, he pulled and it tugged in it, opening the floodgates. The building pressure unfurled, Diane threw her head back, whimpering. And kendall drank it all in.

But he didn’t stop there. He wasn’t done just yet.

He held her in place, still latched onto her clit as she rode out her orgasm. Because cumming once wasn’t enough for him. It didn’t matter that his chin was wet with her, that his tongue was soaked with the taste of her. Kendall wanted to wrack her body until she had nothing left to give. So he kept on sucking and swirling his tongue around her clit, until she came again and again until she was spent, until she screamed without sound, until the stars behind her eyelids faded away into black.

Her hips convulsed around him, putting him in a headlock of sorts, before she released him, her body fell back against his raised knees, he caught her, letting her body take a moment from his torturous tongue.

“Could eat you all night,” he groaned, her legs still open, inches away from his mouth, as her back rested against his thighs, her head draped over his knees. He watched her pink, puffy lips glisten with his residual spit and her own sweet juices.

Diane had gone non-verbal by that point, her body was still shaking as she looked up at the vast expanse of the sky. Kendall moved his middle finger up and down along her slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open her sensitive lips, admiring her sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as her walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill her up.

“Kendall, please,” she begged him. Her voice, still raspy. He did a double take at her disheveled appearance. Her eyes bloodshot with her mascara running, smudging her under eyes.

He didn't respond as he spread her lips further apart, letting the cold breeze hit her entrance. Her face heated up while Kendall fully exposed her.  

“You have the tightest little pussy,” he commented, feeling how her entrance wanted to take in his thumb, but he didn't push it in. Not yet.

He finally slipped a finger inside her. Her walls instinctively squeezed around his thick digit. She cried out in pleasure as she squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbed and pressed firmly on that spongey spot on her walls. She arched her back letting out a strangled cry.

Kendall gently pushed another finger inside her. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of her slowly. She felt his cock twitch under her. His fingers were knuckle deep, he continued thrusting them inside her. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to her g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Making her walls clench up, her toes curling in the sand.

“You okay, baby?” Kendall checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.

“Y-yes… I’m okay, keep going,” she stammered out, as she tried to keep focus.

He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making her pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds she'd ever heard. Her slick soaking his hand as he fucked her. Her legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over her clit. 

Kendall didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of her while his other hand paid attention to her throbbing clit. He milked her pussy as she rode out her release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick . A string of her juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.

Kendall hummed at the taste of her. “You’re so sweet.” She wanted to hide her face, her eyes were glossy, illuminated by the moonlight.

“You're crazy,” Diane whispered, feeling like she just had an out of body experience. He pulled her back down, their chests pressed together, his tongue dancing in her mouth. 

(*siri play champage coast by blood orange; 3:01*)

A rogue wave, emboldened by the rising tide, surged up the beach, engulfing their legs. The sudden rush of icy water sent a jolt through Kendall, a flash of annoyance tightening his features. He scowled at his soaked clothes, the sand now stubbornly clinging to the damp fabric.

But then he looked at Diane.

Her reaction was the complete opposite. She threw her head back and let out a burst of pure, unrestrained laughter—a sound so genuine and carefree, it was infectious. Before Kendall could process his irritation, Diane was running towards the water’s edge, jumping into the sea with a joyful cry, submerging herself completely. The cool water seemed to revitalize her, like a dried-up starfish returned to the ocean.

She resurfaced, her hair plastered to her face, water dripping from her eyelashes, but her smile was radiant. “It’s amazing!” she shouted, her voice echoing across the beach. “Come on in!”

Kendall watched her, a mixture of disbelief and reluctant amusement swirling within him. He was still annoyed about his ruined clothes, but Diane’s infectious joy was hard to resist. He couldn’t understand her carefree attitude, her ability to embrace the unexpected.

He hesitated, glancing at his expensive, now soaked shoes. But Diane’s laughter continued to beckon. He kicked off his shoes and waded into the cold water.

Suddenly, Diane splashed him, a playful wave aimed directly at his chest. Kendall gasped, feigning offense. “Oh, you’re going down!” he shouted, retaliating with a splash of his own. Playful splashes and shrieks echoed across the quiet beach, a stark contrast to Kendall’s usual heavy silence. He chased Diane through the shallows, the cold water a shocking but welcome sensation. As he lunged for her, catching her in his arms, they both tumbled into the waves with a shared cry.

For Kendall, the feeling was almost foreign. He had forgotten what it felt like to simply laugh. The last time he remembered feeling this carefree was a distant memory, a faded snapshot from a childhood that felt like it belonged to someone else. His life had become a carefully constructed performance, a constant striving for his father’s approval. There was no room for joy in the rigid structure he had built around himself. Every action was weighed against his father’s expectations, the burden of his past mistakes, the fear of his uncertain future.

But in that moment, in the cool ocean water, with Diane’s laughter ringing in his ears, the weight lifted. The years of pressure, the constant striving, the deep-seated fear – all of it seemed to wash away with the waves. He was just Kendall, a man playing in the ocean with a woman who made him feel something he couldn’t define. It was more than just attraction; it was connection, a shared moment of pure joy.

He looked at Diane, her face flushed with laughter, and a genuine smile spread across his own. He had forgotten the simple pleasure of being present, of letting go of his worries and simply enjoying another person’s company. She had somehow managed to chip away at the walls he had built around himself, revealing a part of him he thought had long since died. It was terrifying.

They continued their playful fight, splashing and chasing each other until they were both breathless and shivering. They collapsed onto the sand, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies.

“Come on,” Kendall said, extending a hand to her. “Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold.” He gently pulled her to her feet, noticing she was shivering slightly. The sand squished between her toes with every step.

He then bent down, scooping her up into his arms before she could protest. Diane gasped, a surprised laugh escaping her lips. “I can walk,” she protested, though her voice lacked conviction.

“You’re freezing,” he said, his voice firm but gentle, his eyes filled with concern. “And walking in this wet sand isn’t going to help. Besides,” he added with a playful grin, a hint of teasing in his tone, “I think I’ve worn you out tonight?”

Diane met his gaze, a small smile playing on her lips. She didn’t argue, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing counterpoint to the crashing waves. Then, she drifted off.

Kendall carried Diane back to the house, her small frame surprisingly light in his arms. He climbed the porch steps and entered the warm interior, noticing her breathing had become slow and even. He carried her directly to the bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. The wet fabric of her clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin, so he carefully removed his soaked sweatshirt from her, being mindful not to wake her.

He fetched a soft towel and dried her off. He didn't care about the sand that fell onto the sheets or the saltwater that clung to their hair. All that mattered was Diane, the peaceful expression on her sleeping face, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

He found a clean pair of his sweatpants and a soft t-shirt and dressed her, pulling the soft fabric over her still-damp skin. He then lay down beside her, pulling the covers over them both and tightening his hold slightly, drawing her closer. He had never felt this sense of peace, this quiet contentment. It was a feeling that defied explanation—a simple knowing that everything, in that moment, was exactly as it should be.

It was just them, in that quiet room, with the sound of the ocean as their only companion. It felt perfect—a brief escape from the complexities of their lives, a moment of respite. For Kendall, it was a glimpse of something he hadn't known he was missing: a taste of peace and connection. And for Diane, in her sleep, it was a moment of respite from her carefully constructed plan, a brief surrender to the simple comfort of being held.

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies: part 5

(Kendall Roy x OFC)

Summary: Diane and Kendall go out of town for a relaxing weekend. Diane puts on her investigative hat and is on the hunt to unravel the truth.

Warnings: so much smut/ angst

A/N: 7k+ words and the plot thickens!!!!!

🦋🐬🔷🌊🧢🪼💙🫐🥏🏙️🧿🩵🐳💦🧊🥣🛝🚙

“Get off your phone,” Kendall grumbled from the driver's seat. “The person in shotgun is supposed to be the designated entertainer.”

“I’m a passenger princess,” Diane rolled her eyes, switching her phone to do not disturb mode and put it away. “There, happy? Now what?”

“Let’s play a game?” He suggested.

Diane never imagined this would be how she was spending the weekend. She had hoped that Kendall would have forgotten about his plan, she thought it was just a spur of the moment, rash decision he had made while he was pussy drunk, but he was serious enough to follow up about it the next day over breakfast. She was forced to cancel her dads visit to fully immerse herself in her backstory.

“I spy?” 

“What are we, kindergarteners?” He snorted, shooting her a mocking look.

“Fine. What amazing idea do you have, Einstein?”

“Let’s play 21 questions, I feel like I barely know anything about you.”

“Mhmm,” Diane nodded, but internally she was screaming, it was getting hard to keep up with all the lies she had told him as it was. “Let’s make it more interesting. 2 truths one lie?”

“Okay, you start.”

“Uhmmm okay let me think,” she tapped her chin, “Okay, I used to have my nipples pierced, without naming any names… I have slept with a member of one direction, and.. and..  I’ve done anal.”

“I don’t think you did it right,” Kendall furrowed his brows in confusion, “it’s supposed to be 2 truths, not 2 lies, right? Am I supposed to find the 1 truth or the 1 lie?” 

“Nope, I did it right. I told you 2 truths and 1 lie. And you have to determine which one is the lie.”

Kendall swallowed hard, going over Diane’s statements, “Fuck me, and here I thought you were innocent.” Fatherless behaviour, Kendall thought to himself, but he couldn’t entirely blame Diane for that given her relationship with her dad, he felt her. “I mean you really had a wild streak huh?”

“Had? Oh baby, I'm still in my wild streak. Why else would I be going to the Hamptons with a strange man?”

“Fuck you,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Tik tok, tik tok….” Diane tapped her bare wrist like she had a watch, “Do you give up?”

“Uhhhh, fuck this is hard. Can I just say for the record I think you’re winding me up and they’re all lies BUT gun to my head…. Then maybe the one direction one?”

“Wrong.” Diane laughed.

“Wait seriously? And just to confirm we are talking about the British boy band, yeah?” Diane nodded and Kendall looked at her and then back at the road and then back at her, his mouth agape. “Which one?”

“I can’t disclose that information.” She smirked looking out the window.

“Did you uh, sign a fucking NDA or some shit?” 

“No, it’s just none of your business.”

“It was Harry, wasn’t it?” 

“Nope.”

“Or that other one, with the fucking cheekbones, uhhh what’s his face— Zack? NO, Zayn!” He snapped his fingers.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“You’re unbelievable, who would’ve thought. Fucking Zayn.” He said, jealousy evident in his tone, “Wait so which one was the lie? The nipple piercing one?”

“You really think I tried anal?” She looked at him incredulously, “Absolutely not!” 

“You know out of the 3 you gave me, it sounded like the most normal one.” He teased, “But you know maybe we can change that to a truth.”

“Over my dead body.” Diane smacked his arm, making him wince.

“Hey! No abusing the driver.”

“Your turn.”

“Gonna be hard to top your freak level, but I’ll try.” He teased, earning another harsh smack from her. “Uhhhh, I used to play professional tennis, one time when I was a kid I stole my mom’s favourite pearl necklace and blamed it on my brother, and uhhh— oh, I’ve never been in love before.”

“Seriously it took you that long to come with that load of crap.” She raised her brows, it was almost too easy, “The last one.”

“Oohh wrong, too overconfident sweetheart.”

“What?” Diane recalled that he was married before, there was no way she had gotten that piece of information wrong, “How is that possible?”

“Yes, I was married. No, I wasn't in love.” He answered, reading her mind.

“Then, then why did you even get married?”

“Because I loved her.” He stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you weren’t in love with her? That doesn't make any sense.” 

“You’ll go through it some day and then you’ll understand.”

“Okay, so you didn’t steal your moms pearl necklace?” She clarified.

“Nope, I did do that.”

“Why?”

“I was mad at my little brother for something, I can’t even remember now. But yeah I blamed the whole thing on him. He wasn’t allowed sweets for a whole month.” Kendall recalled the memory with a grin.

“You are evil.”

“Nah, he probably deserved it. He was a little shit back then, actually still is.”

“What did you even gain from that?”

“His suffering brought me joy, and I still have that pearl necklace.” He admitted.

"So you were never a professional tennis player," Diane pressed, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Yeah, right. I played a bit. I was pretty good, actually. But my dad, classic dad, didn't see the point. 'Useless sport,' he called it. 'Better off with your head up a horse's ass.' And that’s a direct quote from him." Kendall scoffed, a bitter edge to his tone.

Diane leaned in, her eyes boring into his. "Your dad seems to have a lot of control over your life."

Kendall shrugged, a practiced gesture. "It's easier to go along with it. Besides, he turns into Stalin on steroids when he doesn't get his way."

"What would it take for you to defy him? Hypothetically, of course." Diane's question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Was Kendall capable of standing up to his father? Would he protect his company's reputation, or would he blindly follow his father's destructive path?

She'd seen the interview. "My dad's plan was better," he'd said, a puppet on a string. But was there a spark of rebellion beneath the surface? Could she ignite it, turning him from a pawn into a powerful ally?

"I tried," Kendall muttered, his jaw clenching. "Didn't work."

“But the vote of no confidence was premature. I mean come on, you had one foot out the door. There was no way it was gonna work.” Diane urged him. “You need to think bigger—“

“I can’t—“

Diane and all of America saw the news when Kendall backed away from the Beat hug, “You almost had it the second time, you just gave up too early. You had a solid right hand man who had your back. You had Logan backed into a corner—“

Kendall's jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. "I CAN'T, OKAY? I've tried everything you're thinking and failed. I’ve exhausted every option. And I can't, okay?" His voice was a low growl, raw with frustration. “I just can’t. I don’t have any cards left to play, or a hand.”

Diane's heart pounded in her chest. She'd never seen him like this before. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to yell."

"My dad doesn't play clean," he continued, his eyes filled with a dark intensity. "If I try anything again, he'll bury me alive."

Diane knew she'd pushed too far. She'd seen the monster beneath the surface, the man trapped in his father's shadow. 

"I'm sorry for being nosy," she said softly.

The car crash. The kid. His father would bury him alive with that story if he stepped out of line. It was clear that Kendall didn't have a moral compass. He wouldn't come clean about the cruise scandal - women fired, forced into sexual acts, thrown overboard. Disgusting. Diane's blood boiled. She knew she had to be the one to expose the truth, no matter the cost.

So far, she had nothing. Whispers, rumors. She needed a solid lead, a witness, something. This weekend, she had a chance. A chance to connect with Kendall, to gain his trust. To become his person.

A tense silence filled the car. Kendall stole a glance at Diane, worried he had scared her by raising his voice. He took her hand into his and kissed the back of it, a silent apology.

"Keep your eyes on the road," Diane warned, her voice sharp.

“You keep forgetting that I, unlike you, actually have a full license.” he teased, a playful note in his voice.

“That doesn’t make you immune to car crashes,” she retorted, the double meaning hanging heavy between them. Kendall’s grip on her hand tightened.

"You want to drive?" he offered, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"I haven't practiced in a while…." she hesitated.

“Come on, I'll help you.” Kendall reassured her, slowing down and pulling to the side of the road. “Climb over.”

“And sit where? In your lap?” She looked at him with wide eyes.

"No, the roof," he scoffed. "Come on, don't be a baby."

With a sigh, she unbuckled and shifted, settling awkwardly on his lap. "Okay, you take the wheel. I'll keep my foot on the brake," he instructed, his breath warm against her ear.

She gripped the steering wheel, her heart pounding. "What if the cops pull us over?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"They won't," he chuckled, his hands finding her hips. "Now, speed up."

"Are you sure?" she asked again.

"Sweetheart, you're doing 70 in a 100," he said, his voice low and seductive. "People are going to start honking. Press the gas, now."

She pressed harder on the accelerator, the wind whipping through her hair. He squeezed her hips reassuringly.

—————————————————————————-

"I like to call this place, 'The safe haven,'" Kendall welcomed Diane inside, dropping their bags in the foyer.

“It’s nice.” Diane wandered around the space, taking in the intricate details. It was a bohemian twist, with pastel blue walls, childhood photos lining the staircase, and colorful rugs adorning the hardwood floors. The cozy atmosphere felt almost lived-in, like a family had once called it home.

"Yeah, I try to bring my kids here every summer," Kendall explained, walking into the kitchen. 

"If I had a place like this, I'd never leave," Diane sighed, perching herself on a barstool. 

"Bar cart seems fully stocked. You want a sip of something?" Kendall rummaged through the bottles of liquor. "Before you even say it, I don't know how to make an espresso martini." He grinned at her.

"Surprise me then." Diane pulled out her phone, checking her emails. Even on vacation, work was never far from her mind. Her friends called her a workaholic, but she didn't care. Rome wasn't built in a day. Diane was ambitious, an overachiever. She was the one emailing her boss at 2 AM with new article ideas. Her colleagues might resent her, but her boss praised her in every meeting. She had tunnel vision, focused on the day she'd finally claim her throne at the top.

"You're addicted to your phone," Kendall scolded her, placing a mystery drink in front of her.

"I'm sorry I have a life," she shrugged, taking a sip. "Hmm, it's nice. Kind of like a Shirley Temple with a sour twist."

"Yeah, I had to make do with what we had," Kendall replied, sipping his whiskey.

"You know we have the whole house to ourselves for the weekend," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“Well, I should hope so.” She murmured, feeling him kiss sloppily down her neck.

“Uh-huh,” he sucked on the spot behind her ear, “Just think about all the new places I could bend you over.”

“I’m a bit tired from the drive,” she mumbled, leaning back into his touch.

“You didn’t seem tired when you were grinding your ass against me in the driver's seat?”

“I was just practicing my driving, not my fault you’re so perverted.” She bit back a moan. Kendall had a way of unwinding her with his fingertips, a single touch had her forgetting her purpose. They hadn’t even been in the house for 10 minutes and Kendall was all over her like a persistent cat waiting to be fed.

“Uh-huh. Innocent is not the word I would use. And I’m sure Zayn would agree.” He nibbled on her tender flesh, “Let's freshen up, and then we can go to the beach out back, soak up Vitamin D.”

“I already get enough of it as it is.”

“From Zayn?” 

“Enough about Zayn.”

—————————————————————————

Kendall led her to their room and went to the bathroom to shower. Diane had the perfect opportunity to snoop around the house. She set a timer for 10 minutes on her phone and quickly made her way to the study, Kendall had shown her a glimpse of it when he gave her the grand house tour.

Diane tiptoed inside, the heavy wooden door creaking ominously. She prayed the shower's roar would mask the sound. She didn't know what she was looking for, but this was Logan Roy's study. Surely, there had to be something, a clue, a secret. The room was surprisingly bare. No family photos, no personal mementos. Just a sleek desk, a solitary pen, and a dusty lamp. Diane's heart pounded as she rifled through the desk drawers. The first was a bust, filled with pens and candy wrappers. The second held insurance papers, property deeds, and a stack of Forbes magazines. Useless. The third drawer was locked. She scanned the room for a key, but there was nothing.

Frustration gnawed at her. She moved to the bookshelf, running her fingers along the edges. She pulled out a few books, checking behind them, even flipping through the pages, hoping a key might magically appear.

She felt around the leather office chair, looking for a ripped seam where something could be hidden. She checked under the rug, in the flower pot, but still came up empty-handed. She wiped the dust and dirt from her hands.

Before she could search any further, her ears perked up, the water had stopped running, she didn’t even realize it. There was still 3 minutes left on her timer. She scrambled out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

"Hey, there you are," Kendall appeared in the hallway with a towel wrapped around his hips.

"Hey, I was just trying to get some signal around here," Diane said hurriedly, waving her phone in the air.

"Huh, didn't realize we had a signal problem," Kendall furrowed his brow. "My phone's working fine."

"Yeah, my phone's a piece of junk," she laughed nervously, trying to cover her tracks.

"Well, serves you right, you're addicted," Kendall teased, stepping closer, water droplets glistening on his skin. "Maybe a weekend without your precious phone will teach you to appreciate the smaller things in life."

“Oh trust me, I appreciate the smaller things in life,” she purred, trailing a hand down his chest, “even the smallest of things…” she cupped him through his towel.

"Oh, you're in for it now," Kendall's face lit up with a mischievous grin as he lunged forward, arms outstretched.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Diane squealed, ducking under his grasp and darting into their room. The bed became her fortress.

"Scared?" he teased, circling the bed.

"Just testing your cardio," she retorted, leaping onto the bed and crossing to the other side. "Too slow!"

"Oh, I was just going easy on you, sweetheart," Kendall panted, his playful facade slipping.

He charged towards her, but Diane was quicker. She darted out the bedroom door and down the stairs, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Careful, don't slip. Wouldn't want you to break your hip!" she taunted, disappearing out the back door towards the beach.

She kicked off her shoes, shedding her jeans and top, and ran into the cool water. She ventured further till she was waist deep in the water, she could hear the sound of footsteps splashing behind her. She turned, but Kendall was nowhere to be seen. Only his towel marked his spot on the beach.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her leg, pulling her under the surface. Her scream was muffled, a silent bubble in the water. Through the distorted vision, she saw Kendall's face, his eyes filled with a dangerous intensity.

As Kendall pulled Diane under, a strange sense of peace washed over him. The fear that had haunted him for so long, the fear of drowning, seemed to dissipate. The ocean, once a terrifying abyss, now felt like a familiar embrace. The weight of the water, once a suffocating pressure, now felt invigorating. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush, the thrill of the chase. Or maybe it was the sheer joy of sharing this moment with Diane. In her presence, the trauma of the past, faded into the background.

Diane broke through the surface, gasping for air. "Gotcha," Kendall emerged, with a triumphant smirk on his face, water dripping from his hair.

Before she could swim away, “Uh-uh-uh, too slow,” He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her flush to his body in the cool Atlantic, kissing her fiercely, a mixture of saliva and salt. In that moment, age seemed to vanish, time got lost when he was with Diane, she made the wrinkles on his forehead disappear. 

He loved the way her legs wrapped around his waist with a firm squeeze. “You know, I love the ocean,” she murmured, her voice as gentle as the waves, “I’m a water sign.” 

“Cancer?” he mumbled a guess against her lips, kissing down her neck. He took in her soaking wet lace bra clinging to her skin, with the ease of his hand he unhooked it and disposed of it, letting it float away with the waves.

“Pisces,” Her fingers tickled lightly at the back of his neck making him shiver.

“I don't believe in that shit,” He adjusted her closer.

She repeated it into his mouth— I love water —and the words tasted sweet and ripe, like some exotic fruit plucked just for him.

“Pisces are just permeable membranes that pensively let things flow through them,” She kissed his chin, the curve of his jaw, “like cerebral sea sponges.”

“I believe you,” he groaned as she bit and teased kisses up the side of his neck. She could tell him the sky was green and the ocean was orange and he’d believe her. She made it so easy to believe, her sweet words had him dissolving in the water, gladly becoming food for the fish and corals.

“What’s your sign,” her voice was velvety smooth, as she traced his earlobe with the tip of her tongue.

“Taurus,” he grunted, slipping his hand into the back of her panties, working it lower and lower over the firm curve of her ass.

“Taurus’ are greedy,” she purred, “you indulge yourself in pleasure. Ruled by Venus, you have a lust for giving, for receiving— you want it all. It fuels you, rewards you.”

A wave crashed against them, lapping at their shoulders. Diane wriggled against him, against his hand, against the firm ridge of his cock which poked at her inner thigh. 

He could feel the points of her nipples against his skin, “I’m whatever you say I am,” He slid his hand lower, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” Diane gasped when his fingertips found a new wetness, viscous and hot between her folds.

He worked two fingers into her tightness as she grinded her hips against him, her head tipping back feeling the friction of his cock against her clit, the ends of her hair disappearing into the water. He leaned over kissing the smooth column of her throat, making her moan.

“You love the water,” he said, tracing his tongue over her collarbone. 

Her hand trailed down his chest, disappearing between them and he nearly lost his balance when she began to rub his swollen tip.

“Yes,” she nodded desperately. “I want to swim with the sharks.” The adrenaline was still coursing through her system, she didn’t care about being seen in broad daylight. For once she was truly living in the moment, not worrying about her next move. Flowing freely with the waves.

The hollow behind her ear tasted like vanilla and honey. Kendall sucked hard enough to leave a mark, a bruise that would purple as the rest of her skin freckled and browned in the sun.

“Your earth and I’m water,” her voice was low and tidal, “we connect on the shore.”

His cock was pulsating just from hearing her swollen raspberry lips murmur horoscopes to him in the vast expanse of the sea. He felt her fingers between her legs, brushing against his own which were still buried in her. She tugged her panties to the side. He caught her drift, retreating with his hand, and plunged his hips forward, slotting himself where he belonged. He was coming home, shipwrecked.

“Fuck—ohh—I lo—” he moaned when she clenched around him. “—fuck do you love this?”

The moment the words passed his lips, he wanted to snatch them back, the words I love you were on the tip of his tongue, the one thing he couldn’t have. But in his arms, she was unbothered, rising and falling on him with the flex of her thighs, the rhythm of the tides.

There was something different about her in the sunlight, Kendall felt like he was seeing her in HD, carefree, untamed. Outside the confines of the city she was herself, this was more than just friends with benifits— they were fucking in the ocean for Pete’s sake. 

He tangled a hand in her wet hair and pulled her mouth to his, grunting as she bit hard on his bottom lip and thrust her tongue past the sting.

“Diane—”

“More,” she urged, panting against his mouth. “Please.”

His hungry eyes took in her neglected breasts, nipples strawberry plump, puckered so tight they probably ached. He took her pointed bud in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it like licorice.

“Yes,” she mewled and shuddered, “Kendall, yes.”

His body rocked against hers with Bermuda level force, the chill in the water was the only thing holding him back from the edge. He squeezed harder at her breast, feeling her flutter around him. 

She felt submerged in an ocean of sin. Dancing sunlight filtering through roaring waves above her head. Deep blue surrounding them on all sides. Thick, molasses leaden desire filled her lungs up.

It usually took longer, and more force, but with one last thrust, she burst, clawing at his shoulders and crying his name. Her orgasm didn’t wash over her, it yanked. Grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her feet out from under her, sending her careening into a void of white hot ecstasy that coated her like black ink. And the hot, vice-like spasms of her cunt pulled him down under the waves with her until they were both breathless and shaking.

She squeezed him tight with her trembling legs, keeping him locked inside her even as he softened. Her swollen lips brushed his once, twice, before receding like the tide. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I love the water,” she murmured.

I love you, Kendall bit his tongue.  Kendall was falling too fast, headfirst in the deep end. The second someone showed him a miniscule amount of kindness or care, he was under her spell, more so a curse. When someone who had never been given love or care— finally gets a crumb of it, how can they let it go. He was hers, body and soul. He could only hold her close, hoping she wouldn't slip away. That’s all he could do. 

They were a few metres from shore, but Kendall wished the tide would sweep them out into the open sea, where he was always like this. In the water, carefree. Maybe she would feel the same way about him too. She loved the water, maybe if she stayed there with him long enough, she would love him too.

They stayed in the water until a while longer, in each other's warmth. As the sun began to set, he carried her to shore, her small, limp body brined head to foot in salt and sweat and life. He laid her down on his towel, letting her body dry off in the last remnants of the sun.

“Tired?”

“Not too much.” She looked up at him with half lidded eyes, “What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s freshen up first.” He brushed back a piece of her hair that clung to her forehead. 

As they went back to the house Diane noticed a disruption in the soil, at the base of the house a small patch of grass had been undug, and carelessly topped with soil. It looked recent as well, something in her gut told her to investigate it later.

The shower that followed took longer than expected, it began with Kendall hovering behind her in the shower, shampooing the salt water out of her hair. But ended with Diane’s back pressed against the tiles, she gulped a steam filled air into her lungs. Water cascaded down their bodies as Kendall pounded into her. His hazel eyes remained locked with hers, fingers squeezing at the skin along her thighs which were wrapped around his waist, gasping breaths mingling together. 

Kendall had the sex drive of a 14 year old boy going through puberty, he had to be inside Diane, she was like the air he breathed, he had to have her in every position, taste her in every way. And Diane— she just loved the water. It worked out in both their favor.

He released his hold on one of her legs and directed her to bear her own weight. Her other leg remained hiked up over his hip. His forearm rested on the tile by her head as he leaned over her. The change in position drove him impossibly deeper. Her eyes squeezed shut as she moaned.

“Fuck, you’re so good, so good for me.” Kendall groaned, say it, please say it.

“For you—” she whimpered, each slow pull along her walls knocked the breath from her lungs. The skin above his cock, firm with taut muscle, rubbed at her aching clit. Shockwaves of pleasure centered on her cunt ricocheted through her body, “only for you.” She mumbled incoherently.

A jagged groan stirred against her throat as Kendall came undone, cock buried deep and spilling inside her. His heavy head fell onto her shoulder. Heaving breaths gusted from his lips and blew the remaining water droplets off her heated skin. He didn’t even have to ask her to say it this time.

—————————————————————————

The low hum of music filled the dimly lit bar. Soft, muted colors washed over the room, creating a cozy atmosphere. A few people were scattered about, lost in conversation or solitary sips. The bartender, a man with a weathered face and a knowing smile, wiped down the counter with a practiced ease.

Diane's gaze was drawn to a faded photograph, its edges softened by time. It was a snapshot of a simpler era, a moment frozen in amber. There, amidst a collage of memories, she saw Kendall, younger and carefree, seated in the very booth they now occupied. Beside him was another boy, his face partially obscured, but his youthful grin unmistakable.

"Is this you?" Diane asked, pointing towards it.

Kendall nodded, his eyes following hers to the photograph. He set his beer down on the table, a contemplative look crossing his features. "Yeah," he confirmed, "that's me and my brother Roman."

“Summer, 1996," she read aloud, the date etched beneath the image. "My birth year."

"Yeah, we used to come here every summer," he explained. "The whole family." He took a long sip of his beer, his gaze drifting into the distance.

In that moment, the walls of the bar seemed to dissolve, revealing a glimpse into Kendall's past. Diane, a silent observer, was transported to a time before her own, a time of carefree summers and family bonds.

Diane laughed when her eyes landed on a particularly striking photograph. A younger Kendall, his muscles rippling beneath a faded tank top, struck a pose with his brother. A backward snapback and a gold chain completed the picture of his teenage heartthrob Era.

"Oh, hello Mr. Gunshow," she teased, a playful grin spreading across her face. "Quite a transformation."

Kendall groaned, his face flushed. "Why did I even bring you here?" he muttered, shaking his head. "This place is a time capsule of embarrassment."

"Why are there so many photos of you?" Diane asked, her curiosity piqued.

“The owner’s buddy-buddy with my dad.“  Kendall explained, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Me and Rome used to spend the day surfing, laying out by the beach and then we’d come here to lay some serious game with the ladies. It was a classic summer ritual." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Diane couldn't resist a playful snort. "And was there ever a successful night?" she asked, her skepticism evident. "I find it hard to believe that any girl would be enticed by a snapback and a tank top."

Kendall chuckled, a hint of self-deprecating humor in his tone. "No," he admitted, "not really."

"You and your brother seem close," Diane observed, her voice soft.

Kendall nodded, his eyes distant. "We used to be," he replied, the words hanging heavy in the air. "We used to be."

Diane sensed a shift in his demeanor, a subtle withdrawal. He crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive posture that spoke volumes about his feelings towards the past. It wasn't the nostalgia of fond memories that filled his heart, it seemed like pure hatred and regret.

Diane had spent countless hours trying to chip away at that wall, to coax him into sharing his memories. But it was like pulling teeth. Every question, every gentle probe was met with a carefully crafted response, a half-truth, or a complete deflection. 

Diane knew she had to tread carefully. Kendall, a public figure, was notoriously private. His guarded nature was a shield, protecting him from the prying eyes of the media, particularly when it came to his family.  It was as if he had erected an invisible wall, shielding his past from the outside world. She had to find a way to break through his defenses, to build trust, without revealing her own intentions.

It was a delicate dance, a slow and steady approach. She knew she couldn't force him to open up. Instead, she had to create a safe space, a place where he felt comfortable enough to lower his guard.

"I wish I had siblings," she confessed, offering a glimpse into her own life, hoping he would take her bait and open up. "I was an only child, always begging my mom for another baby. When you have siblings, you're never truly alone."

“Not when you have siblings like mine,” he shook his head with a dry chuckle, “Enemies would be better than Shiv and Rome. At least with enemies you expect the knife in your back. You can keep an eye on them.”

"I think you're being a bit melodramatic," Diane teased, lightly bumping his arm. Little did Kendall know, the biggest threat to him was sitting right beside him, a betrayal that was far more insidious than anything his siblings had ever done.

"It was Roman who sabotaged the entire vote of no confidence," Kendall took a sharp breath, his voice filled with raw emotion. "He gave me his word and then pussied out when it mattered."

Diane fought to suppress a smile. She was gathering information, piece by piece, each revelation a jewel in the crown of her exposé. "Oh shit," she murmured, feigning sympathy. He was opening up, revealing the cracks in his carefully constructed facade. 

Every detail, every vulnerability was a potential weapon in her arsenal. The first thing she learned in journalism 101 was, not every piece of information is crucial to the story, but you need background to build a story. Diane needed to know the current affairs within the Roy family before she couldn’t expose them.

"Yeah, believe me when I say, who needs enemies when you have siblings," Kendall finished his beer, his voice laced with bitterness. He stood up, signaling the end of the conversation. "Have you ever played darts before?"

Diane shook her head, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. She had managed to pry open a small window into his private world, only for him to shut it down.

Kendall, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, took down the photo frame. He carefully extracted the photo, with a decisive motion, he tore the image in two, separating Roman from the rest of the picture.

"I'll teach you," he grinned, sticking the fragment of Roman's face onto the bullseye. "This can be our target."

He demonstrated his skill, launching three darts with precision. The first struck Roman's face, the second his arm, and the third found its mark on his crotch. A dark, almost sinister pleasure spread across Kendall's face.

"Try and top that," he challenged, handing the darts to Diane.

Diane took the darts, her grip tentative. She launched the first dart, but it fell short, clattering to the floor. The second fared no better, veering off course and hitting the wall. Frustration began to gnaw at her.

Kendall watched her attempts with a mixture of amusement and patience. "Relax," he advised, taking the darts from her. "You're gripping too tightly." He demonstrated, his movements fluid and effortless. "Loosen your grip, aim for the center, and let the dart fly."

With his guidance, Diane tried again. This time, she managed to hit the board, though the dart landed far from the target. 

Kendall smiled encouragingly. “Better.” He moved behind her, his breath warm on her neck. His large hand enveloped hers, guiding her arm as she held the dart, his cheek pressed against hers. "Now focus on the target, align the dart with it," he murmured, his voice low and husky. The dart soared through the air, piercing the bullseye.

“You’re a natural,” Kendall praised, making every hair on her body stand up. The 2 espresso martinis she had just devoured, along with the bottle of wine they had shared over dinner were all catching up to her now.

“Yeah?” She whispered. Kendall's face was still pressed against hers, it was too intimate. Too close. Too sweet for her liking yet she let herself lean back into him, pressing her ass against his front. As if they hadn’t fucked twice already, they were both desperate to rip each other cloths off.

“Let’s get outta here.” He took her wrist in his hand, dragging her to the exit.

—————————————————————————

They lay tangled in the sheets, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on Kendall's brow. He hadn't pushed his body this hard in years. His muscles ached with a familiar, satisfying burn. Diane, with her strategic mind and seductive charm, had expertly maneuvered him to this point. She had him exactly where she wanted him— vulnerable, exhausted, and utterly captivated. He was pussy drunk. 

As Kendall lay there, vulnerable and unsuspecting, Diane's mind raced. She had the perfect opportunity to strike. Now she could bend him to her will and milk out whatever she needed from him.

Diane snuggled closer, her breath warm against his neck. "You know we never finished our game in the car," she murmured, her voice soft and seductive.

Kendall's eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep. "Yeah, yeah, we'll finish it on the ride back," he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.

"Nooo," Diane whined, pouting her lips. "Just one more. Please?" Her puppy dog eyes were hard to resist, and Kendall knew he was already defeated.

Diane always had a way of getting what she wanted. It was a skill she had honed over years, a tool she used to manipulate and control. And now, she was using it to her advantage, to extract information, to uncover secrets.

"Okay, okay," he mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut. "I..." His voice trailed off, his mind struggling to form coherent thoughts. "I got kicked out of boarding school for starting a fight," he managed to slur out, a half-truth. "I'm infertile," he added, a darker secret slipping out unintentionally.

As he drifted off to sleep, a few more words escaped his lips. "I killed him," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "It was an accident." These words, spoken in the depths of slumber, held a chilling truth, a secret that had haunted him. Something he had never said out loud before

Diane stilled in his arms, her mind racing. The first statement, the one about being kicked out of boarding school for a fight, was a lie. She had done her research, delving deep into his past. The official report from the school, along with multiple witness accounts, painted a different picture: a young Kendall, intoxicated and reckless, had been expelled for substance abuse.

The revelation about his infertility was less surprising. While he had never explicitly confirmed or denied the rumors, his public statements about his children's births had hinted at underlying fertility issues. His adopted daughter and IVF-conceived son were clear indicators.

However, it was the final confession, uttered in the depths of sleep, that truly shocked Diane. "I killed him. It was an accident." The words echoed in her mind, confirming her darkest suspicions. She had always harbored a theory, a darker version of events, but she had hoped it was merely a figment of her imagination. She never thought he would admit to it, to confirm her worst fears.

Diane lay there, her body tense, her mind racing. Minutes turned into hours as she grappled with the weight of Kendall's confession. She had an unconscious Kendall admit to murder. But she couldn't let it distract her from her primary mission: the Cruises scandal. That was the reason she had come to the Hamptons, the reason she had infiltrated Kendall's life.

She peeled back the covers, a sense of determination fueling her. She crept out of the room, calling out Kendall's name a few times, but he was lost in a deep sleep. She threw on Kendall's oversized shirt and raced to the backyard.

Using the dim light of her phone, she used her hands to dig at the disturbed patch of soil. The earth yielded easily, and soon she hit something hard. With trembling hands, she brushed away the dirt to reveal a metal box. Inside, she found a key, a cassette tape, and a blood-stained cloth. A wave of horror washed over her. She quickly tucked the box under her shirt

Diane sat on the grass, the rhythmic crash of waves providing a soothing backdrop to her racing thoughts. Who did the blood belong to? Was it connected to the Cruises scandal or Kendall's manslaughter plotline? A shiver ran down her spine as she pondered the possibilities.

She glanced at her phone, the low battery warning flashing ominously. Time was of the essence. She needed answers, and she believed they were hidden within Logan's study. With renewed determination, she made her way to the study, the key to the bottom drawer clutched tightly in her hand.

Inside the drawer, she found a file labeled "KENDALL" in bold, block letters. She couldn't simply take the entire file; its disappearance would be too obvious, indicating an inside job. However, the metal box she had found on the beach could easily be dismissed as lost or stolen. 

She glanced at her phone, the battery dwindling to a mere 1%. Time was running out. She wasn't sure if she'd have another chance to return to the study and photograph the contents of the file. Just as then, a blood-curdling scream echoed from the bedroom. Fear gripped her heart as she shut the drawer, locking away the file, leaving it undisturbed.

Kendall's body seemed to sense Diane's absence, triggering a cascade of nightmarish visions. He hadn't ventured into the water since the car accident, the night he'd survived while the kid drowned. Yet, today, with Diane by his side, he'd felt a rare sense of peace. A fragile peace, quickly shattered by his subconscious. His mind, a cruel puppeteer, seized upon his fleeting happiness, twisting it into a weapon of self-torment. He wasn't entitled to happiness, his guilt wouldn't let him. The dream was a twisted reflection of reality, a grotesque caricature of the peace he'd found with Diane. 

The once familiar car was distorted, the shapes warped and menacing. A sense of dread hung heavy in the air.

As he glanced at the passenger seat, a horrifying sight met his eyes. Diane was there, but not the Diane he knew. Her face was contorted into a grotesque grin, her eyes, once pools of warmth, were now hollow, black orbs. A chilling whisper escaped her lips, "Hold your breath, baby," her voice dripping with malice.

With a sudden, violent jerk of the steering wheel, she plunged the car into the dark, ominous waters. The Diane he knew, the one who brought him comfort, was gone, replaced by a monstrous figure intent on his destruction.

The water was a murky, inky black, swirling with unseen currents. Each breath was a desperate gasp, his lungs burning with the need for air. Panic clawed at him as he thrashed, but the more he struggled, the deeper he sank. Through the murky water, he could barely make out Diane's distorted figure. Her eyes, black and lifeless, gleamed with malicious joy.

"Help me," he pleaded, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Please, Diane."

Instead of reaching out, she laughed, a high, chilling sound that echoed in the confined space of the car. "You're drowning, Kendall," she taunted. "And you can't escape."

“Please,” he gasped, inhaling water.

"Drown, Kendall," she hissed. "Drown and be still."

With each passing moment, the water closed in, suffocating him. The cold, heavy liquid filled his lungs, stealing his breath. He thrashed wildly, his strength waning. In his final moments, he saw Diane's face, her eyes filled with a cold, sadistic pleasure. As the car filled with water, she slipped out, her sinister grin widening.

Diane hurried into the room, hiding the box under her pillow and rushed to Kendall's side. She shook his shoulder gently, her voice filled with worry. "Kendall, wake up," she urged.

He jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged. His eyes full of terror, darted around the room. "What the fuck?" he gasped, his voice hoarse.

He scrambled off the bed, his movements jerky and panicked. "Was that real?" he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Diane, alarmed by his reaction, knelt down beside him. "Kendall, it's me, Diane," she said softly, her voice soothing. She gently pried his hands away from his face.

His eyes, wide and fearful, met hers. "Are you real?" he whispered, his voice trembling. He studied her face, searching for any sign of the sinister figure from his dream. But all he saw was the warmth and concern in her eyes. A wave of relief washed over him.

"Kendall, are you okay?" Diane asked, running a hand through his damp hair. "Did you take something before bed? Xanax or something else?"

"No, no. I'm fine," he replied, his voice shaky. "I just had a weird dream, that's all."

Diane helped him back into bed, her concern evident. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently, cuddling up beside him.

"No," he murmured, his eyes closed.

“Okay.” She didn’t press any further, knowing she could hear about it in his next therapy session.

The room was silent, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Kendall and Diane lay side by side, their bodies tense, their minds racing.

Kendall's heart pounded in his chest as the chilling images of the nightmare replayed in his mind. The distorted figure of Diane, her eyes devoid of life, sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him. His twisted nightmare had shattered the image he had of her. Was she capable of such a horrifying act, leaving him to drown in the depths of his own fear?

Meanwhile, Diane was still replaying Kendall's confession over and over in her head. "I killed him. It was an accident." And then there was the box, the tape and the bloodied cloth. She couldn't confront him about it without revealing who she truly was, her ulterior motive. But she also couldn't hold it in much longer. 

As the night wore on, the silence between them grew heavier. They were both trapped in their own thoughts, unable to escape the darkness that had crept into their lives.

[hunzzzzz]

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies (Kendall Roy x OFC) Masterlist

Summary: Little does Kendall know that Diane, the woman he's falling for has a far more sinister purpose than just hooking up with him. Diane is a journalist, a skilled manipulator, and she is playing a dangerous game.

Her seduction was a calculated move, a carefully orchestrated plan to gain his trust and extract his deepest, darkest secrets. She is determined to expose him, to bring down the Roy empire which has wronged so many.

But amidst it all Diane gets lost in a whirlwind of lies, deceit and betrayal. Can she stay afloat or will it all catch up to her.

TW: mentions of abuse / lots of smut / angst

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies: part 4 (Kendall Roy x OFC)

Summary: Diane listens in on Kendall’s therapy session, she learns that there’s so much more to the story than she ever could’ve imagined.

Warnings: smut / blowjob / reference to sex / mentions of sexual abuse

A/N: I’m so sorry if this chapters triggers anyone but I just needed to write this into Diane’s character because she’s willing to go to any lengths to bring down Kendall, even lying about anything so serious!

🧶🦊🦀🍁🔥🍊🍑🏀🌇🟠☄️💥🍅🏵️⛺️🏮🦁🧡

“So, Kendall, I noticed you've missed our last few sessions. How are you holding up?" Diane could hear a faint, static-filled voice on the other end of the line. Kendall was on the phone with his therapist.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. Things have just been a bit... chaotic," Kendall mumbled.

"I understand. It's okay to take a step back when things get overwhelming. But let's focus on you now. Have you been practicing mindfulness and meditation as we discussed?" His therapist's voice was gentle, yet firm.

"Yeah, I've been trying to journal more," Kendall replied, his tone flat.

"Journaling is a great way to process your thoughts and feelings. It's important to be honest with yourself, and to validate your feelings.”

"Yeah," A long pause followed.

"What's on your mind today, Kendall?" His therapist gently prodded. "You seem... off."

"Fuck, I don't even know," Kendall admitted, his usual loquaciousness absent. "I'm a mess."

"I see. And how's your sleep been lately?"

"Shitty," Kendall replied, his voice growing quieter. "I've been having those nightmares again."

"When did they start?"

"A week or so ago," Kendall muttered. 

Diane had a particularly busy week at work and despite Kendall bombarding her phone non-stop, but she hadn’t been able to make any time for him.

"Talk me through them."

"It's always the same shit," Kendall mumbled.

"Can you describe it to me?" 

"I'm in the car again, in the driver's seat," Kendall began, his voice trembling. "It's dark, I can barely see. And he's there with me."

"Who's there with you?"

"The kid."

"And then what happens?"

“Something’s in the road. A car, a deer— sometimes I see myself laying in the middle of the road— other times my dad’s standing there— it— it doesn't matter, something is always there, the car swerves off the road into the water.” Kendall’s voice came out shaky, his body reliving it.

“Kendall, it's okay. You're awake, you're here. I'm here with you.” his therapist said soothingly.

Kendall choked up, barely able to speak, “There’s water, too much water and I can't breathe. And I'm drowning,” he barely gets the words out, “Why didn't I just drown?” He let out a ragged breath.

“Kendall just take a deep breath for me—“

“I try to save him every time—“ he choked out, his voice heavy with emotion, “ But he's heavy– unresponsive– Sometimes I can't find him– and– and when I do– his lifeless eyes are open– staring at me. And I can’t— I can’t save him—“ his voice broke. “Why can't I save him?”

"Okay, Kendall. It's okay. Just breathe. In and out. Good." His therapist's voice was steady and reassuring. "Now, let's ground you. Name three things you can see."

"Laptop, TV, fireplace," Kendall replied, his voice still shaky.

"Three things you can hear."

"Clock, your voice, my breathing."

"And three things you can touch."

"Table, phone, water bottle."

"Good. Now, we've talked about these nightmares before. It's okay if it's difficult, but it's important to try and identify these triggers. Sometimes, the smallest things can bring back powerful memories. Have you experienced any recent trauma, or perhaps something from your childhood is resurfacing?"

Kendall hesitated, he knew exactly what the source of his trauma was but admitting it felt like accepting a death sentence, "I don't know," he mumbled. "It's all a blur."

"That's understandable. But let's try to piece it together. Have you been in any stressful situations lately? Or maybe something in your environment is triggering these memories?"

Kendall remained silent, lost in thought. The therapist patiently waited, giving him space to process his thoughts.

"Have you tried the sleep hygiene techniques we discussed last session? White noise, meditation, and aromatherapy?"

“Yeah, I tried them all, nothing works. I even bought a 15,000 dollar aroma therapy machine and still nothing.”

“That's okay. It takes time, all that matters is that you’re trying. Sometimes recreational drugs can induce chaotic dreams too, but I know you wouldn’t be doing any of that.”

“Nope, no. I’m clean as the toilets in Buckingham palace.”

“That’s good to hear. Let's continue to work on this together. Now, you mentioned the night terrors started about a week ago. How was your sleep before that?"

"It was fine," Kendall replied. "I was sleeping like a baby."

"Did anything significant happen around that time? A change in routine, a stressful event, or a particular memory that might have triggered these nightmares?"

"Not that I can remember," Kendall lied, his voice low. He knew the truth, deep down. The improved sleep, the pleasant dreams— it was all tied to Diane. She was a distraction, a temporary reprieve from the darkness that consumed him.

"It's okay," his therapist reassured him. "I really think it would be beneficial for you to switch back to in-person sessions. I believe hypnotherapy could also be helpful in addressing your underlying issues."

"Yeah, I'll think about it," Kendall replied, his voice flat.

"Okay, well, let's focus on the present. How are you doing, aside from the night terrors?"

Diane sat on the edge of her chair, her mind racing. The fragments of Kendall's night terrors she'd overheard painted a disturbing picture. It was clear that he was reliving a traumatic event from his past, a haunting memory that continued to torment him. She was piecing together a puzzle that was far more intricate than she had initially imagined. The more she delved into Kendall Roy's life, the darker the picture became, he was much more complex, she would have to navigate through the dark alleys of his past. His night terrors, a window into a traumatic past, were just the beginning. She has her smoking gun now. There were more skeletons lurking in his closet, waiting to be exposed.

She was determined to unearth these secrets, to bring Kendall down from his pedestal and expose the truth. She was driven by a sense of justice, a desire to hold the powerful accountable. As she dug deeper, she realized that this story had the potential to shake the very foundations of the Roy empire.

The rest of the therapy session was mundane, filled with generic advice about stress management and work-life balance, co-parenting challenges, and the dissolution of his marriage. It was the kind of conversation that therapists have with countless clients every day.

—————————————————————————-

"You're a pretty hard woman to get ahold of," Kendall greeted her, a hint of amusement in his voice. She was still dressed in her work clothes. Earlier, she had eavesdropped on his therapy session, sensing his vulnerability. She had seized the opportunity to reach out, eager to pry more secrets from him.

"My apologies," she said, holding up two bottles of wine. "I come bearing gifts."

"Is this supposed to make up for ghosting me all week?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he led her into the kitchen.

"Sorry, it's been a hectic. I had a couple of deadlines to meet," she explained, kicking off her heels.

"I'm just playing with you," he said, uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring them both a glass.

"How've you been?" she asked, following him to the massive cloud couch. She tucked her legs under her, angling herself towards him.

"Yeah, been good. Busy too," he replied, running a hand through his hair. Something was clearly bothering him; he looked frazzled, his pupils dilated.

"Seems like work's got you stressed," she observed, squeezing his bicep comfortingly.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "You mind if I light up in here?"

"Yeah, go ahead," she said, trying to hide her disappointment, he was being distant.

Kendall pulled out a pre-rolled joint from his pocket. "I've had a long day," he muttered, lighting it with a flickering flame.

Diane, not accustomed to smoking, took a deep inhale from the joint Kendall passed her way. A coughing fit ensued immediately. "I haven't smoked since college," she wheezed, handing it back. Her tolerance was clearly low.

Kendall chuckled, "I wouldn't have pegged you as a college pothead."

She rolled her eyes. "I only tried it a few times with friends."

"Damn, you were only in college, like, last year, right?" he asked.

"Two years ago," she corrected him.

"You act so mature for your age, even though you're practically a child," he mused, taking another hit.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?" she queried.

"I don't know." He shrugged. “When I was 24, you would’ve been….” Kendall paused, racking his brain to calculate her age.

“10.” She answered for him, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"Fuck, this is so wrong," he groaned, rubbing his face. Kendall had always pushed these thoughts aside, but now, with the cruises scandal, the car crash, and this new mess, he felt like he was sitting on a ticking time bomb.

"It's only wrong if you want it to be," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Do you want it to be wrong?" She nudged him, her desperation clear. She couldn't let him back out now. She'd invested too much time in the cruise story, and she wouldn't let go until she had the complete picture. And then there was the car crash. She had to know the truth.

Kendall took a long drag, his gaze fixed on Diane as she innocently sipped her wine. There was something about her that drew him in. He'd slept with countless women, but none of them had left a mark like Diane. She had dug her 4 inch heels into his hippocampus, imprinting on his brain. His mind was malfunctioning, screws and bolts clashed together, stray wires hung exposed, sparks crashing.

“You make a pretty good case.” He exhaled, smoke swirling around in the air.

“In another lifetime I was a defence lawyer,” she joked, refilling her glass.

“And in another life time I wasn’t so fucked up. I had a normal life, none of this fucking little red riding hood bullshit.”

“Who’s the big bad wolf?” Diane asked, was he talking about his father?

Kendall didn't answer, lost in thought. He stubbed out the joint, the lines on his forehead deepening.

“Isn’t green supposed to make you relax?” She teased, pressing her fingertips on his forehead to soften the lines.

Kendall shifted to lay his head in her lap. Diane ran her fingers through his hair, his eyes rested shut, making a noise of contentment as she massaged his scalp. He was practically purring like a cat, feeling his body wither away with just a single touch from Diane. What was it about her that had this effect on him?

Kendall had a brutal day, after avoiding his therapist for weeks he’d finally scheduled a call. As if that wasn’t bad enough his dad had tasked him with shutting down something he had envisioned to be something great, Vaulter, the company that he raised like his own child, poured his heart and soul into.  But what other choice did he have? He was spineless in front of his dad.

“What happened?” Diane pried.

He opened his eyes, gazing up at her. "I had to shut down my pet project, Vaulter."

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to, I mean I practically put my heart and soil into it, I raised that company like my own child. I could’ve been something great.” The relaxing effects of his joint was now slowly loosening his filter, “but I had no other choice. I’m an invertebrate, a fucking worm against my dad.”

“You always have a choice, Kendall.”

“Not when you’re in my position, sweetie. My dads got me in a noose.” He let out a sad chuckle, “I’m not just a fucking pretty face in a suit, there’s always some shit going on, stuff that’s out of my control. Do you ever just feel like you’ve been working you’re entire like— just to be someone– and then it’s 10 years later and you’re still in the same fucking claustrophobic room and everyone’s watching you fail over and over again.”

“Kendall,” her voice was soft.

“Of course you don’t, you still have your entire life ahead of you.” He continued spiralling, words slipping out of him before he could even process his thoughts, “Don’t— just learn from me— and don’t hold hope that one day you’ll be at the top. Because you’ll wake up one day and realize you’re nothing.”

“I don’t think you’re nothing.” She whispered, stroking his cheek, “I think you’re just tired from a long day.”

“Tired from a long life.” He mumbled.

“Why do you feel like this?” She was starting to sound like his therapist, except he wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to pour his heart out to her, to confess every dark thought, every painful memory. But he couldn't. “Kendall, you’re the heir to the biggest multi-billion dollar media company. You have a life that people would kill for.”

“I’m no heir, trust me. It ain’t gonna be me. It was never gonna be me.” Kendall sat up, keeping his back towards Diane, “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” She wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Uh-huh.” His voice was barely audible.

“Let me take your mind off it.” She pressed a kiss on his neck, “Let me help you de-stress, take off your shirt and lay down on your stomach.”

It was a friendly order, one Kendall could have refused if he really wanted to, but it was an order nonetheless, and he didn’t mind taking orders from Diane. He all but ripped his shirt off and obediently laid down on his front, trying his best to arrange himself and his parts as comfortably as possible, with head pillowed on his hands, closing his eyes.

He felt the couch cushions dip under Diane’s weight as she climbed on top of him, her knees on either side of his waist, leaning forward to steady herself on his shoulders and pinching them.

“It's not my back that's sore, Di- ”

She shushed, “I’m doing it my way, would you rather I stop...”

“No, please. Forget I said anything.” 

Diane started squeezing where his neck met his shoulders, and moving progressively down his arms, repeating this action several times. She had finally found the perfect excuse to have Kendall unwrapped and laid out under her like a muscle buffet, she worked his tender skin as if she could coax the truth out of them, trying to make them talk, break down under the pressure.

Kendall found Diane hard to resist when she was demanding— she was hard to resist in general, regardless of whether she was on top of him or under him. Whatever her motive or endgame was didn’t really matter; Kendall wasn’t not going to ask too many questions if all he had to do was lie down and enjoy the warmth and pressure of her hands on him. Every circle of her fingers relaxed his body even more until he was laying loose beneath her.  

“Your tiny hands feel so wonderful.”  His voice was thicker with a hum. Diane pressed her palms into a particularly tough knot in the centre of his back, massaging with gentle motions.  A little more pressure had it giving way beneath her palms. “Fuck!”

The attention felt good though. Eventually it started to feel like Diane was attempting some real massage techniques, pushing and prodding at him with more focus. The weight of her on Kendall’s back was comfortable, she weighed nothing. But her closeness, the intimacy of the situation, started to make Kendall’s body react in such a way, blood rushing to his cock. 

Most of his muscles were already finished and there was only one area of his back that needed fixing, right above his ass. Kendall was a lot of things but shy was not one of them. The sudden stiffness of his muscles, coupled with the change in his breathing threw Diane off, and it was not until her hands pressed into the flesh of his lower back did she start to get an inkling of why.

Diane’s fingers locked together and rubbed a circle on his skin, she felt his thighs tense. The close proximity of her core to his ass made her tense as well. Ignoring the feelings coursing through her body, she applied more pressure on his lower back.  This time, kendall pressed his hips into the sofa

“What do you think? Is it good?” The question snapped him out of his erotic thoughts, and it was cruel how soothing Diane’s voice was as she leaned over him, her voice velvety in his ear.

“Yeah, feels good,” Kendall mumbled into his arm. He breathed carefully so as not to let out any embarrassing sounds.

“Kendall,” she sang. The tips of her fingers danced up his sides, his skin rippled beneath them. “Is this turning you on?”  He did not reply.  “It seems like it is. Look at you,” she couldn’t not resist wriggling her hips against him, he could feel the thin material of her panties, her skirt bunched up around her waist. “Am I turning you on?”

It was quick, his confession—just a bob of his head—but she caught it.

“It’s okay,” she teased, leaning down to his ear.  “Turn over,” she whispered, “let me see.” 

“Diane—”

“I said turn over.”  He obeyed this time. Diane lifted her hips so he could turn over and planted herself back on his lower stomach.  His hard length strained against her ass. “Hey, big boy,” she rested her hands on his pecs, nails raking down his chest as she leaned forward to speak in his ear again. “Think I relaxed you a bit too much, don’t you think?

“Fuckk,” he groaned.

Her tongue flicked out against the shell of his ear.  While he was distracted with her ministrations, she grinded her hips back and onto his bulge. He hissed feeling the heat pulsating inside him, hands going to her waist.  He bucked up into her, but she swatted at his hands. “No.”

“No?” he furrowed his brows. His eyes were lidded as she rocked her hips against him.

“Hands behind your head. They will stay like that for the entire night or I’ll leave and then you’ll be all alone.” She pressed her hips down deeper and he let out a guttural groan.

“Yes.”  His hands locked behind his head. Kendall never thought he had a submissive side, perhaps because nobody ever tried to dominate him, but now in this moment in his vulnerable state of mind, he needed this. He needed someone to take care of him.

“Look at you,” she teased him. “Such a good boy. You like this.” she cupped his boner, squeezing tight. “Don’t you?”

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” he breathed out, the veins in his arms stood out with tension.  

“Begging already?” She shifted down his legs, pulling his slacks and boxers off to reveal his hardened member, the tip swollen with desire, “What do you want me to do?” She rubbed his thighs, not touching him where he so desperately needed.

“Blow me.” he groaned in frustration, his patience wearing thin.

“Where are your manners?” 

“Please.” he gritted his teeth together.

“Good boy,” Diane spat on his fat mushroom head, gathering up enough saliva, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock she stroked him agonizingly slowly. Kendall bucked his hips up, thrusting into her hand desperate to speed things up.

Diane dipped her head down and licked a strip from the base of his cock down to his ballsack, Kendall looked at her with big pleading eyes, “Hurry up.” 

“Be patient,” she lightly smacked his thigh. She took his swollen tip filled in her mouth, it was rushed simply because she decided to waste no time in giving him what he wanted and pushed his length as far as she could manage to the back of her throat. She didn’t gagg, her throat had been trained.

“Fuck, just like that.” Kendall sighed in relief, feeling her hot mouth wrapped around his cock like a vice.

Diane did what she did best and challenged him. She gripped the base, pulling him closer and threw caution to the wind. Her tongue spanned around the length of his soft head, revelling in the way his girth matched the fullness of her open mouth exactly. 

His gravelled, masculine groans heated her skin in an instant, flooded her with a sensual sort of confidence and rushed the adrenaline through her veins. 

Sucking the tip of him was like licking her favourite lollipop, Diane had a sweet tooth like no other. The only way to improve his taste would be to dip him in sugar or a gloopy coat of melted chocolate.

And she told him how much she was enjoying it with the roll of her eyes back into her head, her desperate whimpering breaths and wide, awe-inspired eyes.

“You take it so well,” he groaned, tipping his head back onto the cushions. The action elongated his throat, making his Adam’s apple more pronounced as it bobbed up and down.

Diane used her other hand to pump his length that she couldn’t fit in her mouth, while simultaneously bobbing her head up and down, taking as much of him as she could.

“Fuck, just a little more.” Kendall had to restrain himself from grabbing the back of Diane’s head and fucking her mouth dumb, but he held himself back, keeping his hands behind his head.

The noise of her mouth sucking along his cock filled the room  along with his moans, growing louder with every second. Diane knew he wouldn’t last much longer, she could feel his cock twitching against her lips.

Kendall's self control faltered as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pushed his cock impossibly deep, Diane’s nose was pressed flat against his pubic hair. “Tap out if you need.” 

He let out one final breath and set off an explosion of cum. With a quick gulp, Diane felt it lightly burn her throat on the way down, tasting sickly sweet with a hint of floralness. She sat up, wiping her chin dripping with saliva.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Kendall mumbled incoherently, pulling her down to lay with him, her head resting on his arm as held her tightly, his face nestled in her neck. “So fucking good. I wanna keep you in my back pocket and carry you around all day, my personal fleshlight.”

“Just wanted to help you,” she murmured, running a soothing hand through his hair.

“Let me return the favour.” He met her lips in a fervent kiss.

That night Kendall didn’t let her leave, he didn’t let her relax either. He fluctuated between fucking her slow and deep, and spending hours with his face between her legs until she was begging and pleading saying she couldn’t take anymore. He fucked her on the sofa, the kitchen counter, the pool table, the balcony, he fucked her until her legs practically gave out from under her.

“You look spent,” he teased, wrapping a blanket around their bodies. They were laying on the balcony sofa, Kendall had her bent over the railing moments ago as dawn began to paint the sky.

"I'm exhausted," she yawned, stretching her arms above her head. 

"Exhausted but satisfied?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. 

"More than satisfied." 

"That'll teach you to pick up my calls."  

"Hmm, maybe you're right," She glanced around looking for her clothes but remembered they were scattered haphazardly all over the penthouse. 

"Hey, come on. What's the rush?" he asked, cupping her jaw. "It's the weekend tomorrow. Just stay here. I mean, we're friends, right? That's what you said. And friends can stay over, right?" 

She hesitated, her gaze flickering uncertainty. "I don't know..."

“If you leave now,” his voice was husky in her ear, his hand trailing down from her hip until it found her swollen, abused clit again. “Just imagine what you’d be missing.”

“Kendall— I can’t,” she gasped, she’d lost count of how many orgasms she’d had at that point.

“Yes you can,” he encouraged, giving her sensitive nipples some attention with his tongue, biting and kissing the tender skin.

She had no choice but to sleep at his place, her legs trembling with exhaustion. Kendall swiftly scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

"Wow, I really do feel so much better," he sighed, pulling the covers over them, “Thank you.”

"Mhmm, you're welcome," she mumbled sleepily.

"What are you doing next weekend?" he asked.

"My dad's gonna be in town," she replied without thinking.

Kendall's grip tightened. "Oh shit, really? Like, is he coming to see you?"

Diane's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her chest. She forgot she had to keep up the lie about her abusive father. "No, I don't know why he's coming. My mom told me..." She paused, realizing she'd almost slipped up, mentioning her mom would only elicit more questions and fill her backstory with plot holes.  "I mean, I just heard that he's coming to take care of a few things." Of course, her father was coming to visit her, she had big plans for the weekend with him

"Uh-huh," Kendall replied, unsure of what to say. He wasn't experienced in comforting someone who'd been through trauma. She was a victim, hurt by her own father. "Do you want to see him?"

"No," she lied, her voice trembling. "I'm paranoid that I might see him somewhere. I'm fucking terrified." She faked a sniffle, burying her face in his chest. Perhaps trauma dumping on him would make him trust her more.

“You probably won’t, this city’s too big.” He assured her, “And if he shows his face, I’ll take care of him.”

“What are you gonna do? Pay someone to break his kneecaps?”

“You let me worry about that.” He said firmly. “What’s the deal with you and your dad anyways?” He asked, his eyes a mixture of concern and curiosity.

This time Diane was prepared for his line of questioning, “I guess this is third base, me telling you about my dad. He had a sick twisted mind,” he was the sweetest soul to exist, “he took advantage of our time alone,” he showered her with love. 

She sniffled, turning on the waterworks, “But even that wasn’t enough for him, — it was sick, it was torture—  I— I can’t— I can’t even say—“

“What he did was wrong— I was only a child,” she whispered, “It was so wrong—  maybe it was all my fault, for not saying nothing sooner, for letting him abuse me for so long.” 

Diane was caught in a moral dilemma. She knew deep down that lying about such a serious issue was wrong, and the guilt gnawed at her conscience. The fear of karma, the idea that her deceit would eventually come back to haunt her, was a constant weight on her mind.

However, her desire to complete her story, to unravel the truth about Kendall's past, was all-consuming. She was willing to sacrifice her own morality for the sake of her narrative. She justified her actions by convincing herself that the ends justified the means. She believed that if she could uncover the truth about Kendall, it would be worth any cost, including her own integrity.

“It’s okay, c’mere.” He pulled her closer to him, nestling her face in his neck, “You were only a kid. How could you have known what was right or wrong? It’s not your fault.”

"I think I'm broken, Kendall," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I feel like he's a part of me, and I'm so ashamed. I can still feel it all, sometimes when I'm alone at night."

Everything was falling into place for Kendall. This explained her previous climaxing issue, perhaps even why she was sleeping with him. Kendall didn't exactly understand the psychology behind it, but he knew there had to be some deeper explanation behind it. It didn't bother him; in fact, it made him want to protect her, to nurture her. 

Kendall knew he wasn't the best father in the world, he was often absent, preoccupied with work and his own issues. He had trouble connecting with his children on an emotional level, and his parenting style was often distant and dismissive. But seeing Diane so vulnerable ignited a protective instinct he hadn't known he possessed.

Sometimes people developed a lack of empathy after going through something traumatic, and Kendall had been through his fair share of trauma. But if only amplified his empathy for Diane. He felt so sorry that he wasn't there when she was little. He would have iced her bruises, he would have protected her.

"I've been broken my whole life too. This all happened when you were a kid. I didn't know you then I don’t but I can’t explain why it feels like I did." he soothed her, rubbing her back gently. 

"You know, my dad had a fucked up way of showing love. It was always conditional. One time, he threw a fork at me because I failed an exam. It missed my eye by an inch, and then he made me sit there and watch everyone have dinner. My plate stayed empty, because only good boys got dinner. And look at me now, I'm still right there. There's no escaping it."

Diane listened intently, she had finally gotten what she wanted: his trust, his vulnerability. She had successfully manipulated him into opening up even if it was just a little smidge, it was still a small victory, one step closer to the truth.

He paused, his voice thick with emotion. "Next weekend, let's go away. You can escape your dad, at least for a little while. You have a chance, a head start."

A flicker of panic surged within Diane. "Really?" she asked, surprised by his offer. She hadn't expected such a grand gesture, and she certainly didn't want it. Her plans for the weekend involved her father, not a getaway with Kendall. "It's okay, really, Kendall. You don't have to."

"I don't have to do anything," he insisted, his eyes burning with intensity. "But I want to help a friend in need."

Diane hesitated, her mind racing. She wanted to decline, but she also couldn't risk pushing him away, not when she was so close. "Thanks, friend," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies: part 3

(Kendall Roy x OFC)

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

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

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

part 1 part 2

ao3 link

👄👛🐙🌺🫀🎟️👅💒🎀🫁💗🩰🌸🦩🪱👚🧠🌷

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

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

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

“Hmm, interesting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No but seriously, what do you do?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you? I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He what?” 

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

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

“Yeah, and uh fucking what abut you?” 

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

“Different how?”

“He just was.”

“Stop being so cagey—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————————-

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

Kendall: hey

Diane: hello

Kendall: What are you doing?

Diane: some of us have jobs

Kendall: ha ha

Send me your location

I’m bringing lunch

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

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

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

Phase 1: plant the bugs 

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

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

Phase 4: build the story

Phase 5: ghost him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? How was work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————————-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh. Why exactly?” 

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

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

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

“Diane,” Kendall grunted, pumping himself faster.

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

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

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

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

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

[hunzzzzz]

gender is NOT the same as sex. gender is what you identify as, while sex is what i'll be having with Kendall Roy tonight. Stay informed.

[hunzzzzz]

STUCK WITH YOU UPDATE 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈

[hunzzzzz]

Jeremy Strong photographed for GQ. Working with Jacques Marie Mage, Kendall Roy’s Favorite Sunglasses Brand

[hunzzzzz]

STUCK WITH YOU UPDATE🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

I’m back in my writing era, I’m so back 😩🤚🏼

[hunzzzzz]

Fight for you update🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔

[hunzzzzz]

STUCK WITH YOU UPDATE🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔

[hunzzzzz]

friendships end. relationships end. fictional man whos doing even worse than you is forever

[hunzzzzz]

Thinking about him tonight

[hunzzzzz]

UPDATE ALERT🚨🚨🚨

[hunzzzzz]

My brown man of the month, I just want to eat him up like a spicy jalfrezi 😩

[hunzzzzz]

Tell me sweet little lies: part 2 (Kendall Roy x OFC)

TW: smut/ forced orgasm / dom Kendall / multiple orgasms / P in V sex

A/N: guys Kendall is so hot in this, I was barking writing this sorry not sorry!! Enjoy!!!

Part 1

💄💃🏽🧣⛑️🌹🍎🍉🍒🌶️🥊🎸🚗❤️🧨🩸🎈🪭🖍️

Diane had been listening to Kendall for a week, so far she had heard a lousy hookup he had with some woman, but he failed miserably, unable to get it up. She then heard his breakdown that followed pursuit, “Pull yourself together, you are Kendall fucking Roy. Everyone wants you, anyone would be lucky to have you. It was one time, it was just too much whiskey, you’re okay, your dick could survive fucking world war 3 and still have ammo— fucking pull yourself together.”

She heard him meditating every night, organizing his schedule with his assistant on the phone, calling his dealer, nothing significant yet, nothing she could use. While she waited for her smoking gun, she moved her plan into phase 2: get closer to him.

She would have to get him vulnerable enough to talk to her, open up to her, share his endless life blunders with her.

Diane walked into his usual bar, she had ensembled an outfit acquired to his taste, something to accentuate her figure. She made it look effortless, dressed like an office siren, her ample breasts peeking out of her button down which she left the first 3 buttons open, the curve of her ass fit snug in her skirt. She strategically ripped her tights, conforming to the look of: ‘I’ve had a long day at the office, I’m just trying to blow off some steam’.

She pretended like she didn’t see him as she walked in, she found a place at the bar and sat perched on a stool. She sipped on her espresso martini, letting her skirt ride up her thighs. And surely enough like an unwrapped lollipop she drew him in like a nasty fly.

“Is this seat taken?” She glanced up at him and gestured for him to sit down.

“Sorry, do I know you?” She furrowed her brows, feigning confusion.

Kendall was taken aback by her bluntness, but a smirk found its way into his face, “By the way you were screaming my name the other night, I would think you do know me,” he said into the open air, not giving a fuck who heard.

His overconfidence burned bright, the fact that he thought she had the best sex of her life was almost laughable.

“Oh right,” Diane perched her boxy glasses up her nose, ones that she had specifically sleeved today to appear younger and more approachable. “Sorry you were just very forgettable.”

Kendall’s jaw twitched, he had never been so blatantly disrespected before, no one had ever made him feel as worthless as Diane did. He wanted to bend her over his knee and spank her straight.

“Okay, then tonight I’ll give you something you fucking remember every time you close your fucking eyes,” his eyes were darker now.

“You’re very confident in your ability to pick up a girl at the bar,” she laughed, the sound was a sweet melody.

“It’s not hard, I got you before didn’t I?” He leaned back in his chair, shrugging off his blazer, “what are you drinking I’ll get you another.”

“You think buying me a drink is gonna get me in bed with you?” Diane raised a brow, “you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

“Oh don’t worry, baby. I’m just getting started.” He winked ushering the bartender over.

“I’ll have another espresso martini.”

“I’ll have the same,” he added.

“You’re not gonna like it,” Diane snorted, he was trying too hard, it was almost sad to watch.

“I wanna see what all the hype is about, I’m seeing it all over socials.” He shrugged.

“It’s a young people drink, you should stick to your whiskey.”

“Fuck you, I’m not that old.” He grumbled, unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt and rolling them up. He hated how hard he had to work for this girl, getting pussy was never hard for him, he just had to flash his credit card and girls would bend over. He had gotten her the first time by dumb luck, but now she was making him chase her.

“You’re old enough to be a dad,” Diane snickered, she loved seeing the vein in his forehead pop with every remark she made.

“Old enough to be your dad?” He raised his brows, he still didn’t know how old she was, or her name for that matter. He hadn’t bothered to find out her name before, he didn’t think they'd cross paths again. But after his failed hookup he thought maybe it might be easier to recycle a body, though it was still a challenge.

“You're getting there big boy,” she clinked her glass with his and they both took a sip. Kendall immediately grimaced, the taste was bitter and unpleasant. “Told you, you wouldn’t like it.” She said matter of factly.

“Right, I’ll leave this for you brain rotted fucking uh gen fucking whatever you call yourselves,” he slid the glass over to her and ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

“We’re calling ourselves Gen Z, actually.” She traced the rim of her glass with a finger, leaning forward giving him a delicious view of her cleavage.

“Don’t fuck with me right now, how old are you actually?” He asked in all seriousness, yes the sight of her tits made him hard, but he still had to weigh out the pros and cons. “Like am I gonna be put on a watchlist now? Do I need to call my fucking lawyer?”

“Jeez calm down,” she reassured him, she couldn’t afford to scare him away, she decided to change her tactics and be less of a bitch, he clearly frightened easily. “I’m 24, I’m legal.”

“24?” He pursed his lips, he didn’t believe her. She looked younger, her attitude certainly made her sound like a spoiled 20 year old in college.

“Do you want me to show you some ID?” She joked, but was surprised when he nodded. So she had to commit and pulled out her learner’s permit and waved it in front of his face, “there, is that all the proof you need? Or do you want my birth certificate too?”

Kendall quickly snapped the ID off her, holding it out of her reach as he studied the photo, she looked a lot younger in it, her hair was shorter, was it bad that it made him even harder the thought of how succulent her younger body would have been.

“Give it back,” she struggled to snatch it off him, her heart was beating faster now, she never planned to reveal her identity to him. Even though it wasn’t a massive bump in the road, she wrote under a pseudonym, but she still didn’t want him knowing her at such a personal level.

He finally handed it back to her, and she tucked it away in her wallet with a huff. “So…. Diane,” he smirked, having learned her name now, “you still can’t drive, huh?” He grinned, he finally had the upper hand now, he now had enough information about her to laugh at her expense.

“If you must know, I can drive. I just don’t have a full license.” She folded her arms over her chest defensively.

“Uh-huh. But you still can’t drive a car without supervision.” He grinned, he was enjoying this now, “you know if you want, I can teach you.”

“Thanks for the offer,” she leaned in closer, “but I think you know first hand that I can ride just fine.” She stroked a hand up his thigh.

Kendall held her hand, stopping it from grabbing at his crotch. He cleared his throat flustered by her suggestive comment, her ability to make him hard without even touching his dick amazed him. She was obnoxious, blunt and even bratty but it turned him on all the more.

Diane pulled away from him and ordered another drink, Kendall didn’t, saying that he was done for the night.

“Scared of limp dick? I hear whisky dick is a real problem with men of ……. your age.” Diane bit her lip, poking the bear, trying to get a reaction from him. And for some reason that was the last straw for Kendall.

He was fucking her into the mattress, his hand at the back of her neck, pushing her face into the pillow, “You not gonna run your mouth anymore?” He taunted, his pace was brutal, she let him play out his sick fantasy, his need to feel dominant over someone. “Are you gonna be a good girl and behave now?”

He smacked her ass, groaning as he watched the fat jiggle, smoothing a hand over it. He flipped her over onto her back, “please,” she whined, playing the role of a fragile little girl, “please Kendall.” She cried and whimpered under him, telling him he was too big, it was too much, he was too good, whatever she needed to say to get him off.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled, biting her collar bone, sucking on her flesh. He thrusted back into her, harder, “you won’t be able to run that dirty little mouth of yours when I’m done with you.”

She pulled him down into a kiss, she hated how intimate it was, but she needed him to shut up if she was going to get through this. He bit her bottom lip, claiming it as his own, with a possessive hunger.

“You like that, yeah?” He grunted, throwing her legs over his shoulders, his knees slotted under her thighs, the angle was beyond anything she had experienced before, she cried out feeling him so deep inside her, it felt like his cock had entered a sacred space inside of her, one that had never been touched by anyone before, “you like that don’t you, you dirty little slut.” He held her thighs, his fingers digging into her flesh, “has anyone ever fucked you like this before?”

“No,” she gasped, honestly no one had ever been rough like this with her, the feeling was exhilarating. She had given up control for once in her life, he tossed her around like a rag doll, his hips rutting into her at an unforgivable pace.

“You need to be put back into your place, so fucking take it,” he continued, abusing her pussy. He liked watching her face scrunch up in pure bliss under him, her eyes shut, lips agape. He pulled out of her and took the opportunity to ram his member into her mouth, fucking her throat raw.

Her eyes flew open, caught off guard, she choked and gagged on him, her hands gripping his thighs, as he forced himself, deeper down her throat and released his seed, “swallow.” He pulled out of her once he had ensured she did.

He climbed off her and collapsed next to her, taking a moment to catch his breath, “fuckkk that mouth of yours,” he sighed, pulling her into him, tucking her head in the crook of his neck, “you’re not as innocent as you look.”

He sat up crisscrossed, pulling her into his lap, her legs draped over his thighs, “I think you deserve a reward,” he tried to pry her legs open.

“No, Kendall, it's fine.” She tried to push his hand away.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He fought her, managing to slide his index down her mound and through her folds, “I’m trying to do something nice for you, just fucking let me.”

“I don’t want you to,” she clawed at his wrist, trying to push him away. She had done this tango many times where men would try to touch her, and having to fake an orgasm. She knew her own body at this point, she knew he wouldn’t be able to either.

“Stop being a brat,” he growled, feeling the sharp pain as her nails drew blood.

“Stop,” she scrambled off him, he pinned her on her stomach, using his tie and bound her hands behind her back, “no please Kendall, stop. I’m serious.”

He had her splayed out on his lap, ignoring her pleas as she squirmed around on his plush thighs. He shoved her panties in her mouth, to stop her cries. Parting her legs, his thick fingers lazily stroked her clit.

He smirked, nuzzling his stubble into the side of her cheek, his lips finding their place in her ear, "that feel good?”

Diane mewed making a sound of disagreement, his middle finger trailed down to her gaping hole, pumping her slowly, her cheeks flushed as she fought it.

“Just relax,” he gripped her hip with his other hand, “just give in to it, you know you want to.” He added another finger and then a third, slowly her body eased up, “that’s it, you like that don’t you?”

Kendall loved how easily he could slip inside of her, how she was dripping down into his thigh, cunt aching, core throbbing for him. His ears perked up at the sweet sounds of her wet pussy taking his fingers in, the wet schlick sounds filling the room.

For once Diane had been forced to give up control, she could only focus on the sensation of being stretched out by his thick digits, his thumb pressing down on her pulsating swollen nub. All her senses were heightened, her cheeks flushed, looking down at his fingers making light work of her, his pace increasing, and the way he was so sweetly purring filthy words into her ear. . . she could feel a sensation start to build— a very foreign sensation, one she had never experienced before— not by anyone or even herself. She had tried touching herself multiple times but could never achieve it.

She was moaning and drooling now, his fingers picked up again, slamming deep inside of her, curling just enough. His thumb circled her clit remaining slow in contrast, creating a dizzying combination that had her clenching around him and calling out his name, muffled through the makeshift gag. Desperate for him to continue.

The feeling returned. It almost felt like she needed to pee. Her eyes rolled back as she tried to fight back the feeling, but he was rubbing her and touching her and fucking her too good for her to hold anything back.

“You’re so close, just focus, focus on me, focus on the feeling. It feels good, yeah?” She gasped, her legs quivering, back arched at a painful angle. but it was too late, before he even had the chance to slow down, she squirted. Her juices coating his hands, his fingers, dripping down along his arm and onto the sheets below.

“Oh baby. . ." he whispered shakily, "where were you hiding that from me?" She could hear the smirk in his voice clear as day as he spoke into her ear.

He took her panties out of her mouth, which were soaked with saliva, untied her hands. Her back gave out, still reeling in the aftermath of her first orgasm ever, she collapsed in his arms. He picked her up and took her to the bathroom, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her wetness smearing around the front of him. She didn’t know why she let him, but her brain was a cloud of fog at that point.

He ran the bath, setting the water temperature and lowered her down into it, “you did so good.” He soothed her, scrubbing her chest with a loofa, “how are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Diane’s voice was raw, dry from the fabric that had been constricting it. She cleared her throat to sound more composed but it still came out brittle, “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh,” he moved onto her back, his touch tender. He wore a proud smile, he felt like a man again, “your welcome.”

“I never asked you for it, did I?” She snapped, inching away from him.

“You didn’t have to ask, I already know you have a stick shoved so far up your ass,” he rolled his eyes, “so yeah your fucking welcome,” he threw the loofa at her and climbed into the tub sitting behind her, “just relax, your so fucking tense,” he eased her back against his chest, leaning back against the tub.

She loosened up to his touch, “I just don’t like random men touching me.”

His hands slid down her sides, squeezing her thighs, parting them under the water, “random men who make you squirt?” His hand traveled between her legs, rubbing her, she sighed at his forbidden thigh, her eyes fluttering shut, “tell me, was that your first orgasm?”

She felt uneasy sharing that information with anyone, but he seemed to already know somehow, “yes,” she whispered her voice barely audible, his fingers continued working away at her.

“You know you try to act like such a big bad girl, but you’re just an innocent flower, just a little baby,” he chuckled, the sound rich against her neck.

She wanted to shove him away, tell him off but the words got lost in her throat, she gripped his forearms, her second orgasm approaching fast, “give me another, I know you got it in you.” His cock was hardening again, feeling her squirm around against him, he lifted her hips up and planted her down on it, the water making its slide in with ease like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle, “fuck I fill you up so nicely, this pussy was made for me. I need to feel you when you cum.”

“Kendall, I can’t. Please,” She gasped at the intrusion, her body felt weak, his fingers moving wonderfully and the slow thrust of his hips up into her made her shudder around him, her walls clenching around him, her head falling back onto his shoulder.

How was he doing this to her, how had he given her 2 orgasms in one night. She had boyfriends before, but no one was ever successful at pleasure, at some point Diane convinced herself that she was incapable of ever having an orgasm. She enjoyed sex, she enjoyed the feeling of penetration, but it was never enough for her to get there. Her ex boyfriend had tried to eat her out, but she was too in her head to enjoy the experience, she couldn’t turn her thoughts off. But with Kendall it was different, she could let go. Even though her biggest fear was losing control, she willingly gave control of her body to him.

“Yeah cum all over my cock, good girl.” He groaned, kissing her jaw, speeding his pace up, edging closer to his own climax, he pulled out of her and released. They sat there in the lukewarm water catching their breath.

He helped her out of the bath and gave her a towel to dry off, “you want some clothes?” He offered.

“No, I need to head,” she shook her head, rooting around for her discarded clothing, “I have work in the morning.”

Kendall stepped out of his wardrobe dressed in a fresh pair of briefs and a t-shirt, “uh yeah, yeah sure okay.” He nodded, watching her get dressed.

“Where’s my underwear?” She asked, crawling on the floor to look under the bed, giving Kendall a shameless view of her ass cheeks peeking under her skirt.

“I don’t know it’s probably somewhere around here,” he pretended to look on the bed, knowing well he had stashed them away in his closet, “I can give you a spare pair of briefs?”

“It’s okay, I’ll just go commando,” she pulled her tights over her bare pussy, driving Kendall insane. Yes they just went 2 rounds but he was ready to go for a third. She made it impossible for his dick to stay soft.

He brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears, “So Diane, when will I uh, see you again?”

“Soon,” she smirked, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, she brushed past him to leave.

“Wait, are you not gonna give me your number?” He grabbed her hand.

“Figure it out,” she winked, and slipped out the front door. This time she was confident that he would scope her out, she had given him her all tonight, more than she had bargained for.

And surely enough the next night she got a text from an unknown number: I found your underwear, when do you want to come and get it?

part 3