#CARDIOMYAPATHY. dr. kelly anderson. cardiothoracic surgeon oc. est 2018. an outsourced ‘autobiography’ on daily bouts of ego-centric arrogance, mommy issues while being someone's coping mechanism for their daddy issues, full blown rage turned to court-mandated anger management therapy, and breaking down nurtured hypermasculinity. ghostwritten by LANE. ( 29, they/them. )
* mutuals only. 21+ as nsfw present, as well as topics such as : medical procedures, gore, addiction, drugs, alcoholism, and titties.
CARRD. HEADCANONS. FC. MEMES. NSFW.
Momma always wanted a little girl to dress up and show off like a little porcelain doll. Instead, she got a deadbeat and a little boy that wanted nothing more than to eat mud off a stick. Still, she did her darnedest to work with what she got and had him dolled up anyway. Little Kelly Anderson. Years of playing dress up and some emotional trauma later, Momma met a new man with three free daughters included. Two had outgrown the girly frills, but one was younger than her own son and soon he was discarded to the side and his step-sister was the new object of her affection. THANK FUCKING GOD.
– with a temper and mommy issues that have gotten him into far more shit than if he just went to therapy, but man oh man, there was no way he was going to pay to sit around and talk about his feelings. Instead, he uses the ridiculous amount of money he’d acquired to hire lawyers to keep it all on the DL. Being a surgeon was a great way to harness all of that overflowing ego-centricism bubbling within him and using it for G O O D ; saving lives to make up for his own personality, enabling that G O D C O M P L E X of his, and making bank. Rich and not afraid to flaunt it, Kelly hides behind his charisma, money and attitude to irresponsibly live his life to the fullest. Fast cars, multiple properties, and yearly rehab stints in foreign countries where nobody in his circle would hear a word of his anger management treatments. Or attempts at sobriety.
In recent years, he's toned down the attempts at self sabotage and put his money towards opening his own clinic. He'll often step in at the hospital to perform surgeries, but he's his own boss now and with that comes a whole other can of worms.
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you ever just wanna eat it so bad that even the thought of her hips in your hands and your thumbs in the creases of her upper thighs like where they meet her hips makes you wanna white boy punch a wall
@cardiomyapathy sent: [ encore ] for sender to initiate consensual sex the moment they're alone with receiver after receiver intentionally spent the last hour teasing sender in public where they could not react.
perks of being a rich middle aged white guy includes having middle aged white guy friends, apparently. someone gifted kelly tickets to this game, box seats and everything. nealie was well enough entertained, watching the game alongside him and basking in his happiness, if nothing else. call her what you want, but it did something to watch him get dumbly amped up. the fist through the air, the veins on flexed bicep, the manic look in his eye... HOT.
it gets her thinking, but she doesn't want to steal him from this beautiful masculine bonding moment with all his buddies. thankfully, she brought the paint marker she used earlier to draw hearts on her cheeks in the colors of kelly's team. which is why while the big game-making stuff is going down, nealie's taking the chance to draw on herself. people are hugging— guess someone scored, huh?— and she goes, "pssst," with a smile.
"look!!" as if she spied a pretty butterfly perched on the window. nope, she's giving one last scan of the room to make sure no one else is looking and then hiking up her jersey. perky little stress balls revealed and "DADDY'S" in paint low on her stomach, a bit crooked and rushed but a heartwarming effort. nealie hopes she'll remember the look kelly gives her for the rest of her life. unfortunately for him, the game isn't over and while he waits for escape, she's squeezing his arm, sneaking a kiss to his shoulder, apparently only able to keep her hands to herself when they're both tucked between her thighs.
it's some time before he's able to take her, firm grip on her wrist, to the nearest family bathroom and push her through the door. her face is shoved into the tiled wall which is thankfully not too disgusting. she's done grosser for less. he hikes up her tennis skirt and makes quick work of pulling aside her pink panties with strawberries stamped across them. his grip on her hips makes her yelp.
"ah! ow— fuck—" her whimpering has been answered with a fist in her hair and her back arches. she's spreading her legs with a squeal so he can better rut against her ass. ready to bear whatever punishment he'll greedily dole out, she savors the rub of grout against her cheek. the ghost of a relieved smile is offered over her shoulder, trained like a dog at the clink of his belt. his heavy breathing is music to her ears, the head of his cock nudged up to her entrance drawing a happy moan.
His eyes go straight to her tits, adrenaline draining and quickly replaced with lust, then lower, the words she scrawled across her stomach, just where the tip of his cock would reach. He glances over his shoulder to see if anyone else was seeing this shit, but thankfully they were busy celebrating the win with each other. Kelly motions with his hand for her to put her damn shirt down, but the bulge in his jeans was a dead giveaway that her little plan had worked. Cheeky. Sad thoughts don't bring the bump down, so he just takes Nealie's hand and puts it on his lap, holding it with his own to mask the erection under the denim.
Once they were in the privacy of their own little bathroom, he lets go of the chill guy charade. Drunk off of too many beers and the adrenaline of sport, he rocks against her ass roughly and kisses up her neck.
" LOVE IT. " he groans into her ear, rutting sloppily against her entrance until he slides inside her. " You're such a tease. God, you know how much you make me ... " he kisses her cheek, the clean one, and slams into her hard enough that her chest flattens against the tiles. " So hard. "
He pinches her cute little ass and holds her throat, fingers pressing against her vocal box. " You're my girl? Daddy's girl? "his other hand creeps under the jersey that hangs off her shoulders like a cape and gropes her chest – HARD. he massages her breasts, pinching her nipples to make her squeak.
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well shit, she doesn't want to kill him. just maim him! this sort of weakness in follow through means she ends up loosening her grip too much and he does land a kick right in the moose-knuckle.
"aw FUCK!"
darcy drops him in favor of crouching down and pressing her hand between her legs.
he scuttles aside and raises his arms defensively , ready to duck or bolt if she tried coming at him again.
" and I'd do it again. "
fight dirty against darcy was always the go to way of winning. she had a severe advantage against him, being part freak bear and all. it was only fair to be able to kick her while she was down. he grabs her shoulders and pins her backwards, straddling her with his knees holding her shoulders down. " suck my dick, darcy. i win. "
It was just one of this stupid concerts they usually did on campus to raise money. Cassie had texted him to meet her here and one thing lead to another. She couldn’t resist him any longer and it felt like a free space, a free time to be risky which she loved. She grunts softly against his ear as he takes her backstage behind the equipment, her legs wrapping around his waist and she clings to him.
“I missed you so much, daddy.” She pants along his ear, whimpering softly but trying to stay quiet, she feels him rut against her in and out filling her with a warmth she could never replicate on her own. She pants along his ear, his fingers tangled deep in her hair jerking her head back and it feels good enough to hurt.
“Oh, Kelly, I’m- “ She squeals and pulls away to give him a big kiss so she could stay quiet but it was growing difficult when he thrusts deep like that.
" you taste so good. what's that? " he slings his tongue into her mouth again, sucking on hers and sighing happily. " fucking white claws or something? "
he rolls his hips as he teases her, bottoming out and groaning. the black box he had her sitting on shifts on its wheels and he reaches out to steady it, catching her waist with his hand so she didn't fall. in the process, he pulls out and the cool air against the slick on his cock is almost refreshing... if he didn't crave her warmth so badly.
" – SHIT , sorry. here ... " he drops to his knees, one hand on himself, the other on her thigh to make space for his tongue.
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> HANDS AUTOMATICALLY .. come to cover her eyes. ❝ why are your pants coming off ? ❞ she questioned as her whole body turned around away from him , facing back out into the hallway. she could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks. the bathroom was small. but it wasn't too small. she wasn't crowding kelly. ❝ i - uh - brought you a spare shirt. ❞ she hadn't meant to spill the wine. she had just been a little too enthusiastic about what she was talking about. she didn't think she had gotten it on his pants as well. in one hand ( which was still covering her eyes ) was a larger plain white t-shirt. it was hers. she just hated wearing pants to bed. before she held it out back towards him.
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> @cardiomyapathy 🏝️ asked ❝ 「 BARE 」 : for sender to undress in front of receiver ❞
" AW, we're sharing clothes now. " he muses, taking the shirt and chucking it onto the sink to give her a bit of a show. " I smell like a WINO. can I say that anymore? " he stops where he's at, his jeans unzipped and pushed down a few inches to reveal a bit of his package. SURPRISE. Covering it with his hand in an attempt at modesty, he whistles to get her attention. " – you don't have to be so shy, you know. "
she may or may not be holding knife to him... "playfully".... "now you'll be good to mine and ro's babygirl, right? cause if you ain't, well i'm gonna have to do somethin' about it and you're just so darn cute, it would be a real shame." / from trini LOOOL
the blade presses against the side of his throat as high as she could reach, which wasn't all that high; from that angle, she'd be lucky to even get some skin. so he leans forward, letting the blade slice through to give her a drop of his blood as an oath to his word. his mouth parts and he cants his head, as though to kiss the sickly sweet tone off her lips. " – i'll be the perfect gentleman. "
experiencing some crazy shit that involves randomly working with one of my moot's fc and staying up 24 hours for it
but i will be around to be c r e a t i v e in the following days
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Once upon a time...
The bedroom door bangs open with all the subtlety of a hurricane. "Happy Father's Day!!" Kaelyn, seven-years-old, practically launches herself into the room, bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. In one hand, she clutches a slightly crumpled card covered in crooked hearts, stick figures, and far too much glitter. In the other, she carefully balances a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, a few drops already sloshing over the rim. Lingering in the doorway is Kaila. She'd let Kaelyn run ahead as her own personal cattle call, though the smug look on her face fades slightly when she realizes Kelly is actually alone...though, she's also pleasantly surprised. She'll keep that to herself. Arms folded across her chest, she gives him a quick glance before looking away. "Well. You have her for the weekend..." Crossing the room, she sets a small tiffany-blue box on the edge of the bed. Cartier. A new watch.
"Happy..." The word catches in her throat. Kaila simply shrugs and offers a small nod instead. It says enough. Leaning down, she presses a kiss to Kaelyn's temple before gently steering her back toward the living room. "Come on, baby. Let your dad get dressed."
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he honestly would've preferred the silence over the trash that kelly had put on for him. it had been a week of pure torture, made even worse by how much kelly had been enjoying himself the entire time. his expression remains utterly unamused. " fine. " whether he will actually uphold that promise or not, kelly will just have to wait and see.
the door starts to open at last, and he doesn't wait a beat to shove it open and walk out of the cell with a sigh of relief. finally. glancing over at kelly, a forced smile forms on his features. " i suppose i should thank you. " then, in the blink of an eye, gloved fist has found kelly's nose, the sound of cracking bone like music to his ears. the metallic smell of blood soon followed. " and now we're even. "
this is exactly what he'd been training for : homelander to either land a devastating punch or laser his fucking head apart. now, he'd only put in an hour of training and had a success rate of maybe 10%, but he squares up the mili-second homelander's arm raises – and gets knocked the fuck out.
The plan was to dissapate into a nice thick smoke, avoid the hit, and laugh at John.
instead, his nose is broken into fourteen pieces, blood gushing onto the floor . kelly doubles over , clutching his face and trying to see past the blood red, blue stripes and white stars. " FUCK. What the fuck is wrong with you? " he blubs, falling back and out of Homelander's way.
