#I want to do at least one more with some ladies but...time

[mothiir]

What shenanigans do you think lion and leman get up to when they smell their woman ovulating

i’m sorry anon did you ask me to write yet another list of ‘primarchs react to’?

yes, thought you did! here is an incomplete list of ‘primarchs reacting to their lady ovulating’. all of these, apart from roboute, are pre-heresy.

roboute guilliman - starting off strong. This man smells that you are fertile and immediately checks and triple checks that your implant is functioning and that there is no chance that you are getting pregnant. No babies. Not now. Maybe when he has a farm, in a few hundred years. But nope, not now. If things are bad in the imperium at that moment, his ‘can’t be a dad’ anxiety might spike to the point where he doesn’t even want to put his penis near you. He sticks out one knee — still encased in his holy armour — and is like okay rub on that while I finish up this paperwork, you have forty five minutes.

the lion - his sex ed came in two batches: one from observing wild animals, and two from observing some very homosexual knights. He isn’t exactly the expert on the female reproductive cycle. However, he does the best he can, extrapolating from how female lions acted in the forest of Caliban. When they were fertile, they badgered the males for sex constantly, and seemed very distressed when they weren’t being serviced. In his infinite wisdom, he decides that human woman are probably the same, and proceeds to put you on your back at least five times a day. You whinge less than normal (mostly because you are almost comatose with exhaustion) so he counts this as a success.

leman russ - unlike the lion (and indeed most of his brothers) he has had considerable experience with female humans before he met you, so he knows exactly what to do. Yes, he does buy into some stereotypes — you are a little hornier than normal, maybe, but you’re certainly not the insatiable sex goddess he starts treating you like — but his heart (and dick) are in the right place. He may even start hinting about hey do you want pups? Maybe? Just one or two? His dirty talk takes on a distinctive feral tone. Lots of talking about how pretty you’d look with his pups in you. Don’t worry, he’ll calm down eventually.

horus - will hide your birth control. Best bet is to be conveniently absent for this week of your cycle. He’s going to start whining. Ignore him — he’s a big boy, and despite his painted insistence, primarchs do not have a genetic anomaly that makes blue balls fatal.

konrad - he sniffs you more than normal, which is saying something because he sniffs you a lot. Tells you that you smell unbearably revoltingly sweet and he hates it. No, you may not leave his chambers, he wants you to stay here so he can put up with the awful-delightful fecund reek. That’s a direct quote by the way; the man has a way with words. Like Roboute, he is pretty fanatical about not wanting children, so he isn’t going to take any risks. You will end up with a very sore jaw as he makes you swallow the little Night Haunter morning noon and night to take the edge off.

lorgar — look, he knows you’re not going to go around spreading your legs for his legion, he knows that you’re a good chaste girl who only wants him, but you smell so wonderful, and you’re all rosy with health, and his sons —- well, his sons are lovely, but they’re still men. And what chance do men have against the divine? No, you stay in your rooms nice and snug, and he will tell you when you have finished that bit of the cycle and can leave. Until then, he’ll keep you occupied. Partly with sex. Mostly with reading scripture he’s written about how said sex is a divine offering to his Father.

ferrus - meat-woman smell of weak human hormones. vile. must purge woman best way iron hand know how: insertion of the iron co —

fulgrim - writes you the most gorgeous flowery poetry and presents it to you along with an eight foot picture that is designed to ‘celebrate your delightful womanhood’. It is beautiful, in the way that all his art is, but you’ll admit that you don’t quite ‘get’ this one. It’s vaguely in the shape of a uterus, in shades of purple and gold, and — is that a penis? He will then proceed to make you forget your own name, so thankfully your opinion on said art piece is never asked.

[tan1shere]

Friends

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: as a bit of an apology for that other fic... LMAOO THIS DOES HAVE A HAPPY ENDING ! I've been obsessed with this song. Like if my future gf doesn't confess her love to me with it I'm gunna sue

Summary: none of you had any idea just how inlove you guys were.

Warnings: a bit angsty at the startish ? But happy ending 😁 this ended up being so so cute eeee - also listening to the song helps near the end when they're in the rain. Makes it more magical hehe

Masterlist

It was another day. Another cold, rainy day. It had been like that for a few weeks now. But you weren't complaining, you loved this kind of weather. Drinking hot drinks, wearing cute clothes, the sound of it on the roof. Even going to cute little Cafes with friends, which is what you were on the way to do now. Your best friend Claudia, Finneas and last but not least Billie. Billie, Billie. Billie. She was beautiful, always teasing you about something but you loved it. Yes you had a crush on her. But you had to stop that.

You had been friends with Finneas first for years, and your crush developed quite quickly when you met Billie for the first time. Only a matter of days and you were drooling at the sight. She'd never see you like that though. Then you introduced Claudia to them, your long time best friend. She knew about this crush and she was the only one who did. It was only natural when she insisted you say something the day Billie came out. You had known for awhile before she publicly announced it. You were a lesbian and open about that, so she came to you when she thought she might be into girls.

It only made things worse. Making you want her even more when she confirmed she wanted to be with a woman. You so desperately wanted that woman to be you. But you doubted she saw you in that way. Causing you to push those feelings aside, and bury it deep within. The looks you always gave her go unnoticed by Claud, she tried time and time again to encourage you to just say something and that..

"You never know what could happen" She says as you and her wait on the other two to order. "Claudia there's no point, it'd just ruin things. "You don't know that!" She insists, but shuts up seconds later as they come back over. Her words always sat with you, replaying over and over in your mind. But you couldn't do it, you had to let it go. Just some silly crush you developed as a kid. It'll go away.

... It's been nearly 7 years. 7 long years with a burning crush for her. A massive secret. Who were you kidding you weren't getting over it. They come back with the drinks in hand. "Matcha for you." Finn says, handing it to Claudia. "Your favorite for you." You smile as Billie says that. She always knew. She knew exactly what you liked and what you didn't, and vise versa. Which probably made you love her even more. If anything you were certain you were inlove with her. Which is why you needed to make this stop somehow.

Few months had passed since the coffee shop. You were sitting at home, scrolling through your phone when you see tiktoks of Quen, Odessa, and Billie in one. You knew she was close with them but you had no idea just how close. But that wasn't even the icing on the cake. Your phone dings with a text from her. "Hey you!" It read. You try to ignore the pit in your stomach after seeing that stupid fucking tiktok. You couldn't let it bother you this much. "Hii Bills." - "Craziest thing right, I mean not so crazy because I've kissed her before. But i love how casual it is, Quen was just saying a joke and kissed me mid way."

Your heart stings for a bit as you read those words. That poison. "Oh really?" - "Shes honestly so funny though, just wanted to text! See how you were doing and all." You bite your lip. How's awful? "I'm fine!" You were glad this was over text cuz boy were you a bad liar. So you're glad she hasn't caught on at all to your crush. Lying your way out of that one would be a mission. Or maybe it wouldn't be. "Good! I'll talk to you later, byeee." You sigh. "Bye.." You say outloud.

Some more time passes by, and very slowly. You had been focusing more on yourself. You even got a promotion in your job. But you weren't sure if you would take it, seeing as you had to move to New York for it. It had been eating at you recently on what to do. You can't bear the thought of not seeing your friends everyday. Even if they could visit but they had busy lives too. It wouldn't be the same. And you weren't sure if you could leave her. Or maybe that was the exact thing you needed.

Maybe you needed to get away so this silly little crush could go bye bye. But once you think it over some more you come to a decision. You couldn't possibly say no to this. This was huge for you after all.

Flashback.

Another rainy day, you two were chilling in Finns basement as Billie works on a few things. She stops for a moment. "Hey, I've been working on this song for a bit. It's nothing major but can you have a listen?" You nod, leaning forward excitedly. As it plays, you fall immediately inlove. Even if it was just a snippet. "Billie! That's beautiful." You beam at her, loving it so much. She blushes slightly at the words. "It's really special. I was thinking of putting the rain in the background if I can manage to. It's so noisy tonight." You nod as she says that. "I love the rain, it brings me such a comfort. The cold weather, snuggling up into blankets. The sound!" She smiles as you talk. She always listened, especially when you rambled. "I know." She says, more so to herself seeing as you hadn't heard her.

"Hey, early like always." Claudia says to you as you enter her house. You greet Finneas and the dogs aswel. "Well you know me." They were currently throwing a small get together, something common for them to do. But you loved it. You were going to break the news tonight. It was decided. Billie had only just arrived shortly after you, coming in and saying hi to everyone. You look at her, wondering if you really should go through with this. She was your best friend. It made you wonder how she's going to take the news. Out of all of them you two were the closest. Hanging out regularly, talking on the phone. So this without a doubt would be hard.

You were all sitting around at the table, talking, eating. When a friend asks Billie if she's done anything new recently music wise. "Well, funny you should ask. I've been writing this song, it's incredibly special to me. It's about this girl, and I think I really like her." You swallow as you hear that. Was it who you think it was about? Was it that same song she got you to listen to? "Ooou Billie liking someone?" Rat pipes up. "I may do." "If you're writing a song for her you must be pretty inlove." She blushes slightly. It had to be about Quen, it just had to. You look down at your food contemplating. That whole situation just made everything easier. So you begin to speak.

"I uhm, I have a small announcement." Everyone then looks at you. Your eyes land on Billies for a split second. "I- got a promotion a few weeks ago." They all start congratulating you, even Billie. But that dies down with your next words. "It uh.. Id have to move to New York though." Things fell silent, saddened faces all around. "That sucks. But we are so proud of you, are you going to take it?" You think for a moment, you look over to Billie but her eyes were on the food on her plate. "Uhm. Yeah, I am." Cheers were then to be heard. "To Y/n!" Rat then says, raising his glass. "To Y/n!" Everyone follows. Everyone but Billie...

Flashback.

Summer time. It was almost your second favorite to winter, but nothing could ever beat your love for it. You and Billie had gone out to a meadow, it was one of her favorite things. Going out to rejoice in nature. And when you had suggested it she couldn't of been more happy. It was better than sitting around in the boiling heat in the house, even with the fan on it was scorching. There was a warm breeze as you two walked through it. Enjoying the sun and grass. Billie was behind you going to grab your wrist. "This was an amazing idea. You know me so well." You smile wide as she says that. "I also know how much energy you have. I'll race you to the end." She chuckles. "Oh please you know I'd beat you-" "Go!" You abruptly say, running off as soon as your sentence finished. "Hey!" She yells running after you.

The whole paddock was huge so it took you a little bit. Along the way you both give up, but as you were about to stop your body's being tackled to the ground. "Gotcha!" She says pinning your arms down. You laugh. "No fair!" Her brow raises. "You know what's not fair? You getting a head start you little cheat." You laugh even more. "I have no clue what you're on about." It was her turn to laugh. "And a liar!" Her hands move to tickle your sides. "Billie!" "A bad one at that." Now your laughs were uncontrollable. She kept going until something sparks. You hadn't realized how close she was. Both of your eyes locking. Everything stills. Her movements. Your breathing. Maybe even time did too. You look at her lips for a second and that's when you look away. Her hand gently grabs your jaw. "You still lost." Your eyes roll going to push her off. "Har har."

She falls beside you as you both lay on your back. Taking in the sky silently. "Everything is so beautiful." You breathe. "Yeah." Billie replies. She wasn't looking at the sky.

The time was nearing. You were packing up your things a few days earlier. Honestly, you were so excited. This could be a brand new start, a refresher. After a longish day you were driving over to Finneas and Claudia's, wanting to spend as much time with them as possible. Wondering why Billie wasn't mentioned? Because she may not even be there. She hasn't been there. Ever since that night, nor had she texted you since then. Which is something she did daily. It broke your heart. But maybe that just made it even easier to leave. Maybe..

"Got most packed?" Claudia asks. You nod, seemingly distracted. "Hey, everything alright?" You look at her. "Oh yeah, just thinking about missing you guys- when. I leave." She had known you for longer than they have, even if you were a bad liar she saw right through you. "Spill." You sigh. "We haven't spoken in weeks.." Her brows furrow. "You and Billie?" You just nod, kinda wanting to avoid this whole thing right now. "Ever since I announced it she's shut me out." Claudia's features softened. "Maybe she just needed time she's your best friend it'll surely hurt-" "But as a best friend she should be here for me. Even if that is so."

Things grew silent, not the horrible kind. "I'm sorry." You shrug. "Guess even in friendship she doesn't want it." - "That's not true." You shrug again. "Even before I mentioned this whole thing she had grown distant. Its like I didn't even matter anymore. She was too busy focusing on this girl." Maybe you hadn't realized how much it upset you. You didn't want it to. But it finally got to you. Claudia notices and brings you in for a hug. She soothes you, trying to not make things seem worse. After a bit you both pull back. "You're going to call me everyday ok? And we will talk about anything and everything." She wipes your slight tears.

Feeling her own fall. You nod, planning on doing so. "Im going to miss you guys." She brings you in for a final hug. "We are going to miss you more."

Flashback.

Parties were something you aren't sure you're use to. But it was quite a frequent thing. Seeing as who you were friends with were in that scene. "I hope this isn't boring like some of them." You sigh, watching Billie come out of your bathroom. She was wearing a loose black button up shirt and some very laid back pants. Another thing you loved about her, she didn't try to be fashionable. She was just always comfortable. "Oh come onnn, it could be so fun!" Even she didn't believe that. She agreed with you, parties like these were just an excuse to drink or get high and you hated it. Everyone could enjoy themselves when they are actually themselves instead of being intoxicated. "I'll make it fun." She then says, striding over to you. Billie had always been flirty in anything she did. Whether it was her tone or actions it'd always be noticeable. Which sure as hell didn't help with the fucking crush.

And delicate touch to your body had you shivering. It felt like she did it on purpose. Maybe she was? "And how do you suppose you'd do that?" She shrugs, getting closer. "Just by being me." Your brows raises, trying so hard to not let show how much of an effect she has on you currently. "If you say so." But that whole night was something else. Sure she could be touchy, and never in a bad way. It was her love language after all. But something about the way you danced together, the way each moment felt. Sure as hell didn't feel like a just friends thing. But ofcourse you were delusional. Because the next day, things were back to the same friendliness. It hurt, all you wanted was to be hers but she didn't feel the same. And you had to accept that.

It was the last day before your move. "This is for Y/n." Finneas says on their couch. It was just him, you, Claudia. And ofcourse Billie. You doubted she even wanted to come at the way she's been acting lately. It upset and angered you. What was wrong with her? "Our best friend. And cheers to the new chapter she's starting!" He finishes. "Here here!" Claudia chimes in. Your heart just sinks as you turn to look at Billie. She was on her phone. Probably texting the mystery girl. You look at your drink, sighing internally. Finneas and Claud just look at one another. "Congrats Y/n." Finneas then concludes.

A slight sadness in his voice. You nod slowly as you 3 drink to it. The night goes on, you wanted some more blue cheese so you get up and go to the kitchen, Billie happening to be there. Things were awkward. You really didn't want them to end this way. "Can't believe it's tomorrow." You say, breaking the air. "Yeah, came by fast." There was more awkward silence. God you felt like crying why was she being like this. But that anger comes back as shes on her phone, again. The last night you have together and she's texting some bitch. "Really?" You manage to get out, after what felt like ages of bottling up whatever it was inside you.

Her eyes move to look at you. "Huh?" You grit your teeth. She sees your eyes gloss over, opening her mouth to speak. "You haven't spoken to me in weeks." You snap. She doesn't say anything, unsure of exactly what she could say. There's many things, but choosing was tricky. "Just forget it, I'm going to go home and rest. Got a big day tomorrow." You say to everyone as you grab your bag, heading out. Remembering you had taken an Uber, grabbing your phone but struggle as the pouring rain shoots down. "Wait!" You then hear behind you.

"No Billie." You really didn't want to speak to her after all she hadn't, all month. All night for fuck sakes. "Please let me talk." You ignore her trying hard to call this damn Uber, but the rain wasn't helping in the slightest. She grabs your phone making you look at her. "Hey!" You say, feeling tears flow. It was hard to tell mixed with the rain. But she notices. She notices everything. "I'm s-" You push her away. "N-no." You shiver. "You hurt me." She stands there dumbfounded. That's not at all what she wanted. Far from it. She's reized how much she's hurt you.

"Please, I really am sorry I shouldn't have iced you out. I was just shocked and a little hurt you hadn't mentioned this to me." You fold your arms not looking at her. "I hadn't told anyone." She scratches her head. "Yeah but, out of anyone I thought youd atleast tell me." You turn to her. "Why? Why do you think that? You haven't been the best friend to me recently. Hell i don't even know what to think anymore." She shakes her head. "Don't say that, please I'm sorry." You stay quiet for a moment. "Just give me my phone."

She was hesitant but with a sigh she does. You soon get fed up, going to walk. "It's freezing, you can't just walk home." - "Why do you care all of a sudden Billie. It's not like you've been so caring lately?!" Another bit of silence. You just shake your head. "Well?" She thinks for a moment. "This morning. I woke up from a dream. Where you and I had to say goodbye." You had no clue where this was going but you were growing inpatient. Wanting a proper answer. "And I don't know what it all means... But since then I realized. Wherever you go that's where I'll follow."

You roll your eyes a bit, not even sure you're getting where this is going, patience growing thinner. "Im tired Billie, goodnight and goodbye." You say walking off again. She started to panic. Frantically thinking. "Y/n!" When you wouldn't stop she sighs. "I love you!" Your feet come to halt at the words. "Or rather, inlove with you." Your eyes widen. Was this a dream too? Were you dreaming? You slowly turn around to look at her. "W-what?" You look at eachother, feeling as if time had stopped again. "If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you."

You feel tears again. This is all you've been longing from her. "Are you serious?" You question. "Serious as anything." You smile, more tears coming down your cheeks. You run over to her, she instinctively picks you up. And finally something else you had been longing for, happened just like that. You felt eachothers lips. Molding together perfectly. It lasted for what felt like eternity. Neither of you wanted to pull away, you knew you needed to though. The rain pours more over you. Making both of your hair sticks to your faces. She moves yours out the way.

"I'm hoping you feel the same?" You laugh. "Yes you idiot. For over 7 years." She smiles wide, so happy that this could finally happen. "Wait- what about the girl- the mystery one?" She chuckles. "We really were blind huh?" Your brows furrow in confusion. "The song was about you. But I never said anything because I was worried I'd ruin things." Your head shakes. "Oh thank God, I honestly thought it was Quen." You breathe out relieved. "Oh goodness no, she's just a friend. Even if I had kissed her it was more of an experience." You nod, understanding everything more now.

"So the song was about me?" You beam. She reflects the same actions. "I thought the lyrics would've been obvious to be honest. Especially with the rain part." - "Guess it just flew past my head." You lock eyes once again. "Well since I know how much rain means to you. What if I asked you a very special question while we're out here in it." Your head tilts. Her hands grabbing your own. "Will you be my girlfriend?" You smile. "I thought you'd never ask." You seal the deal with a kiss. You fell first. But she fell harder.

"No seriously I thought you'd never ask." You both laugh, heading over to her car so you can get home.

[sirianasims]

The Don Diaries

Living with Kyle is an experience, I tell you. First of all, I have no idea how he maintains that hunky physique because he is constantly eating junk.

He also keeps drinking energy drinks and I have no idea where he's even getting them from.

He at least tries cleaning up after himself sometimes, but he's also extremely clumsy so he breaks more than he cleans.

Goddammit, Kyle.

After a few days, Dani is getting a bit sick of the smell of spoiled energy drinks everywhere. And that isn't the only bad habit Kyle seems to have...

WILL YOU PUT ON SOME GODDAMN PANTS MAN

Kyle, get your naked ass off my furniture, I swear... where did you get those chicken nuggets? You didn't go anywhere near the fridge???

And where did you keep that energy drink?! Do I even want to know?!?

Oh well, time for the welcome wagon, and we convince Kyle to put on some clothes just in time for everyone to look absolutely thrilled about the fruitcake.

Kyle's a bit miffed about having to wear pants though, so he grabs yet another energy drink and watches tv instead of socialising. (Reader Service™️ - Yellow shirt is Julie, Don's first love, teal lady is her sister Toni the bartender and Don's 9th conquest or something, the guy with the blue shirt is one of their random roommates and then there is of course Nathan, Sidney's husband.)

The group decides to join Kyle and watch a movie, but a faint beep is heard from the hallway. And Kyle the Burning Donkey decides to be useful for once, completely forgetting the Love Guru's words.

And also forgetting the fucking lint tray.

THE HIMB, THE HIMB, THE HIMBO'S ON FIRE

The Burning Donkey seems resigned to his fate...

But Dani doesn't give her man up so easily.

Ew, Dani, he's all covered in soot!

(Interestingly, everyone ran screaming out of the apartment except Toni who has probably seen worse as a bartender.)

Finally, the smoke and visitors clear out, and Kyle the Flaming Ass lives to slack another day.

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone, it is another Wednesday (my dudes)! Thanks to the lovely @umbracirrus and @hircines-hunter for tagging me <3

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @dirty-bosmer @lucien-lachance @thequeenofthewinter @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark

@captain-of-silvenar @changelingsandothernonsense @lady-iizsil @bougainvillea-and-saltwater

This is going to be a long af post because I ran a poll trying to decide what to post, but I'm just gonna give y'all a bit of each because *gestures vaguely to the world* at least we have blorbos <3 First up is another bit from the family fic, then some smut under the cut from another wip that i will have done soon or i will end up on the news MDNI: PICK YOUR POISON BESTIES

“Happy to be free of the misery and dread of Winterhold?” He earns a playful punch before Ceri joins her boyfriend on a sofa.  

“You sound too much like Ata.”

“You say that now.” He reaches for something in his armour, a folded paper. “I’ve accepted an offer from a man in Skyrim, wants help going through some Nord tomb.” Walking over to his sister, he shows her the letter, distinctly pointing to the bottom. 

“May Talos guide you.” She laughs. “Oh, what would Ata say?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and besides, I do not get paid to care about religion. He could be Tiber Septim reborn for all I care. Might even be good actually, could charge him more.” 

“Well then, may Talos guide you Arthano. To Sovengarde!” He rapidly ruffles the top of her hair. 

“Shut up.” He laughs. 

It is a funny moment between them but Ralos can’t help but feel like he is missing something. He knew the worship of Talos had been a major point of contention between Altmer and Nords; particularly when the Thalmor were in operation. It seems their father would be especially concerned, no, upset, to learn of who his son was working for. But the way neither Arthano nor Ceri seemed to find it anything more than funny puzzled him. It can’t just be his Altmer beliefs…

The kisses are slow for a bit, enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually, Ondolemar’s lips find their way to her neck. The marks he leaves will no doubt be difficult to cover tomorrow, but that is the furthest thing from her mind as she grinds her hips into his. 

“I’m going to miss you.” She hums. 

“And what will you miss most?” Hands move down to her thighs, creeping their way underneath her nightgown. 

“Unfortunately, you have me in a compromising position, my love. I cannot answer fairly at the moment.” Her own hands remove themselves and glide down his bare chest. 

“Then don’t.” She pulls the nightgown overhead, tossing it across the bedroom. There’s no time for him to react before she is sliding down, knees resting on the hardwood as she looks up at him. Even in the low candlelight, she can see his expression has changed; a deeper hunger written on his face. Head resting on one thigh while her hand makes its way up the other, tracing the outline of his erection through the thin pants. 

“Well. now I certainly cannot.” He groans as she removes his cock, stroking the flesh itself now. 

“I’m still waiting for an answer, love.”  

“Oh course you are. You want to hear all about how I’m going to miss you like this. How much I enjoy seeing you on your knees for me.” His left hand runs through her hair, smoothing through it as her strokes quicken. “I’ll even miss how you torture me, memories of you like this flashing through my mind at the most inconvenient times. So much has changed except for your ability to distract me from work.” 

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x sassy!reader

A usually quiet reader now sassy towards everyone but their girlfriends and the plastics are loving it

"Prince Charming"

|| poly!plastics x sassy!nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; short drabble, brief swearing, guy tries to flirt with the plastics, brief almost misgendering moment, reader insulting the guy

|| Summary; when a guy tries to flirt with the plastics, reader takes control of the situation.

Requests open!

Started; November 6th

Finished; November 6th

~~~

This was not the you the plastics had come to know. Usually, you were quite quiet. They weren't sure what had gotten into you recently and honestly? It was hot. You'd gone from quiet to sassy and witty in just a few short days. Gretchen was sure it was because they were rubbing off on you. Regina didn't care for the reason, she was just taking it all in. Finding it rather amusing. While Karen didn't really know what was going on, other than you were talking a whole lot more than you used to.

Lunch today started off calm. You were sitting next to Regina like you usually did, Gretchen and Karen across from you. Holding hands and giggling about something you weren't sure of. That's when some idiot decided to be brave today. He walked right over to the table, buddies laughing and nudging each other in the background. His eyes roamed the four of you as he grinned. Trying to seem more charming than he really was.

"Hey, ladies~ and uh, Y/N." He added the last bit awkwardly, seeming to remember from Regina's glare that you were nonbinary. You held back a laugh and have Regina a thankful smile.

"Whatever it is, go away. We're busy." Regina gestured to the four of them with both hands. They weren't all that busy, really it was just simple conversations. With no topics being particularly important. Regina was clearly just trying to get him to leave them alone.

"Oh come on, don't got room for one more?" He asked, trying to sit down next to you. Regina's sharp glare and possessive grip around your waist made him think twice.

"Oh absolutely not." You made a fake gagging sound, earning a laugh from Gretchen and Regina. Karen looked a little concerned, having thought it was real.

"Baby, you okay?" Karen asked, you glanced at her and gave her a subtle nod. She seemed to relax a bit after that.

You looked back at the guy and stood, giving him a once over as you folded your arms across your chest. "Your clothes are tacky, your hair style is- just, wow really? Hope you didn't pay for that. And the fake "prince charming" trick? Also, why do all men feel the need to lower their voices?" You looked back at your girls, Gretchen and Karen both looked stunned as you just clocked this guy. With no hesitation or stutter. Regina meanwhile, was laughing her ass off. Oh she wished she recorded that. Wherever you seem to have gotten your newly found sass from... she was not complaining.

The guy was at a total lost for words. Mouth opening and then closing again serval times, trying to come up with at least some comeback.

"Ugh, close your mouth. I can smell your breath from here." You scoffed, settling yourself back down next to Regina. Regina grinned as you sat with her, her arm going back around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. She kissed the crook of your neck softly. Gently nibbling on the spot as she hummed.

As for him, he stood there for a moment. Before walking back to his table, head down and tail between his legs. Even his buddies looked a little stunned by everything they just overheard you say. Cause damn.

"That was so hot." Regina murmured against your skin, the feeling of her breath sending shivers down your spine. Gretchen nodded in agreement.

"Literally like so cool!" Gretchen replied, you smiled at them. Finding yourself relax under Regina's touches.

"I'll keep that in mind." You were almost hoping there would be another moment like that. You just wanted to show off to your girls now.

[thezombieprostitute]

I recently saw a pair of ladies' underwear available online (I swear this is the most questionable way I've ever begun a message to someone, I swear I was just shopping) that had the text 'Achievement Unlocked' printed on the front, and that made me think of Jake & Tech Tuesdays. 😅 Just thought I'd share in case you were amused by it.

This is definitely going in the Jake & Sunshine Flashback Files.

Summary: Jake knows he's the luckiest man in the world and it's all because of you.

Warnings: Mild smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: ~2.1k

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Jake was nervous. More nervous than he'd ever been in his life. And he'd been shot at before! It was your first date and he really wanted things to go well. You were so beautiful, kind, funny, smart and he was just a dork who got by everyone that he talked too much. Well, everyone but you told him that. It was another reason he felt he really needed to make this date perfect. No one else treated him so well and he knew he had to treat you like the angel of mercy and light you were to him.

What he didn't know was that you were just as nervous. The cute IT guy who never dissuaded you from talking about your interests, even shared your interests, was taking you on a date! You knew you weren't likely to find someone else as sweet. Well, sweet for now. A part of you was kept in check, reminding you that upfront kindness and interest rarely lasted longer than a month or so. Still, Jake felt different than those other guys. You felt so safe around him, and that counts for a lot!

Jake hits the buzzer for your apartment right on time. He'd been standing there for at least 20 minutes but didn't want to hit the button too early or too late. When you confirm it's him you hit the button to let him up and do all the last second preparations you think you need to make. He knocks on the door and you open it to find him holding a bouquet of yarn skeins. Your hands fly to your mouth in surprise and you bounce on your toes with excitement. Jake breathes a sigh of relief at the evidence that it was the right move.

Your first date is a blur of laughter, friendly conversation, and even some snuggling. Being the gentleman that he is, Jake walks you to your building door and you both feel the sparks fly at your first kiss. You won't know it for a few more months but after you parted ways for the night, you both did an excited victory dance.

It's your second date and you're so much more giddy than nervous. You and Jake had been messaging each other so much at work you were scared HR was going to step in. And you continued to have your lunches together whenever you could. You marveled at the fact that Jake hadn't seemed to tire of you talking about your favorite shows and movies.

Jake was equally happy that he could talk to you about his favorite things. He could jabber on and on and you would never scoff at him, derisively call him a nerd, ask him who cares about these things. And you would counter with your own good points and perspectives. He swears your conversations are the highlight of his days.

In fact, your second date was just an extended version of your lunch dates, but neither of you seemed to mind. You were both so comfortable and enjoying the time together. There was significantly more snuggling and you didn't wait for Jake to walk you to your door before you started kissing him. Jake was internally struggling to keep himself in check. Desperately wanting to make you happy, overjoyed at the affection, and trying to pay attention to your signals so he wouldn't overstep.

You wanted to bring Jake up to your apartment but you also didn't want to move too fast. He was so sweet, smart and strong and you didn't want to ruin it. Gently pushing his chest, he gets the hint and lets up. You thank him for a wonderful night and kiss the tip of his nose before giggling and asking him for a third date. Any fear you had that he'd be disappointed was gone the second his smile grew and his eyes lit up.

The work week before your third date was grueling. You were both so eager for the weekend, for unfettered access to each other, it made the work days go by so much slower. The two of you spent your lunches practically cuddling as you ate, exchanging little kisses. You'd been told that, so long as your work wasn't affected, HR would not step in. Though you're pretty sure you've seen some coworkers roll their eyes at you.

You try not to take it to heart when one or two of them give you a "friendly warning" about him losing interest after he gets sex. Jake's already so delightfully different from other guys you dated. He actually listened to you about your likes and dislikes. He didn't get you flowers, he got you yarn! He didn't order for you at restaurants. He didn't do backhanded compliments. He felt so genuine.

In fact, you felt so confident about Jake that, during your lunch, you asked him if he'd be willing to change up the plans for that weekend's date.

"What did you have in mind?" he stammers, hoping the last minute change isn't a bad sign.

"I was thinking," you hesitate a little. "I was thinking you could come over to my place and...and I'll cook? And we can watch movies together?" Heat rushes to your face as you start second guessing yourself.

Jake takes your hand, "that sounds awesome! Is there anything you want me to bring? Do you want me to help cook? I'm not much of a cook, but I can definitely clean up! Oh, and would you like me to bring some of my DVDs? We can compare libraries if you'd like."

You giggle, feeling a lot better than you did a few seconds ago. "Well, you said you have the Collector's Edition Highlander?"

He beams, "I'll happily bring it!"

As soon as he gets to his desk, Jake immediately calls up his friend, Cougar, for advice. He explains the conversation and Cougar just chuckles and says, "relax. Take a deep breath and be yourself. She's clearly into it."

"Thanks for that," Jake sarcastically replies.

"You're welcome," Cougar replies before hanging up.

Jake arrives with the promised DVD and, in lieu of a bouquet, he hands you a floral Lego set that has you bouncing on your toes in delight. As you let Jake inside he takes a deep breath and his mouth is immediately watering at the delicious smells from the kitchen. His cheeks turn pink as you both hear the grumbling from his stomach.

"Please tell me you've eaten today," you say, a little giggle in your voice.

"I...I'm pretty sure I did," he replies, his hand running through his hair as his cheeks redden. "I know I ate breakfast, I can promise that much." In truth he'd spent so much of the day nervous about the date he'd done everything except eat.

"You need to take better care of yourself," you gently chide with a kiss to his cheek. "I hope you don't mind that it's only spaghetti and garlic bread."

"'Only'? That sounds divine! And not just because I'm hungry."

"I'm glad to hear it," you confess. "I just need to dish it up and then we can eat. You can go ahead and sit."

Jake goes to the table, "which chair is yours?" You give him a confused look so he continues, "I mean, I'm a guest. I don't want to take your favorite spot. If you prefer this chair or that, I'll take the other one."

You smile in understanding and direct him to the chair that's further from the kitchen.

You bring out the plates and can't help but giggle at how he looks like such an eager puppy. The two of you talk, conversation flowing easily. Though you've only known each other a few months, it really feels like you've been together forever. There's a feeling of safety in each other's presence that makes you want to be together for the rest of forever.

When the meal is over you suggest it's time to start the movie, but as it starts up, neither of you is really paying much attention. Instead your both very aware of each other's presence. Jake had trouble keeping his breathing steady as you snuggled up to him. You had to fight to keep your hands in your lap, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Instead you opt to lay your head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

That's when you decide to try to be a bit bold.

You move one of your hands to Jake's leg and gauge his reaction. You think you hear his breath hitch but he doesn't protest. You start slowly, gently rubbing your hand along the leg of his jeans and his breathing definitely quickens.

"I can stop if you'd like me to," you rasp. You'd been so focused on Jake's breathing you hadn't realized how much your own had quickened.

Jake's brain is in panic mode. He wants you to never stop touching him, but he doesn't want you to feel like you have to. Then again, you're offering to keep going, you started this of your own volition. "Please don't stop," he finally croaks out.

"Would...would you like me to touch more than just your leg?" The groan Jake lets out makes you feel like his brain has just short circuited and needs a restart. "I mean, we don't have to. Especially if you're not comfortable with it." You remove your hand from his leg. "I never want you to be uncomfortable. I'm so sorry if I--".

You're cut off by Jake grabbing both sides of your face and bringing you in for a deep kiss. Your body moves mostly on instinct as you move to straddle him, and he moans into your mouth as you settle over his hard-on. You gently roll your hips and he whimpers, making the corners of your mouth turn up into a smile. You pull away from him and giggle as his lips follow yours.

"Not...not to be...too forward," you gasp, "but would...would you like to um, to...the bedroom?"

Jake looks into your eyes and sees how hopeful yet scared you are. He wants nothing more than to live up to that hope. He's so scared he's going to disappoint you. That it'll be a deal-breaker for you if he's not good enough in bed. In truth, disappointing you feels like it would break him. At the same time, if he doesn't take you up on your offer, you'll be disappointed as well. He ends up nodding his heading, not trusting himself to speak.

"Are you sure, Jakey? I need you to tell me 'yes'."

"Yes, oh dear lord, yes. I want you so badly that I'm scared I'll disappoint you. Please, yes, I've wanted this for so long--"

He's cut off by your finger moving over his lips in a shushing fashion as you giggle. "You don't have to prove anything," you promise. You get off of his lap and hold out your hand for him. He accepts, kissing the back of your hand, then up your arm, then along your collarbone, making you giggle again.

You lead him to your bedroom and sit on the bed before pulling him over you. He's very careful not to crush you but when you wrap your legs around his hips and pull him in close he loses a little control. You moan as you feel more of his weight on you and he lets his hands roam everywhere he can get them.

As clothes start to come off you marvel at how muscular Jake really is. You'd known he was strong but seeing it was something else. You trace your fingers along some of his tattoos as he works over your breasts. He's fondling, pinching, licking, nipping and you swear you're going to lose your mind from how good it feels. You start moaning his name and Jake swears he's in heaven.

"Jake," you coo, making him stop everything so he can listen to you. "Wanna feel you inside me, please?"

"You're too good to me, Sunshine," he rasps.

He starts pulling off your pants but stops when he sees your panties. They have the Xbox Achievement Unlocked icon. Jake looks at you and give him a sly smile and a wink.

"I...I may have planned for this," you confess, heat rushing to your face. "I just...wanted to be prepared."

Jake laughs and kisses you all over, feeling a renewed sense of calm. A sense that he was going to be okay. That you were his safe space.

-------

He saw those panties again a few years later on your wedding night.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[cetoddle]

okay what i have to say is lowkey embarrassing but i wanna bitch and it’s probably only embarrassing to me bc im shy about this stuff anyways the moral of the story is i wanna bitch and u should probably just ignore me. god bless

[variousqueerthings]

I note that I don't, and I never, was much of a fan of doctor-and-rose as romance, but that I -- rather than get annoyed at the romantic-coded scenes -- had a tendency to simply read them from a totally different perspective, and really maybe should have been a sign of sooomething different about me, that I continuously felt that the doctor's concepts of connection must be so alien, that to call it romance would be to diminish the actual Thing that they had, which was presented as such onscreen (to my mind then, now I realise what was happening, but I prefer what I had going on), which is basically that the doctor was a shell of a person, hurtling towards destruction (he would have died without rose in ep1), desperately lonely and sad and traumatised, and she retaught nine -- and by extension ten -- how to love the universe, at the same time as nine and ten taught her the same. (I think about the scene in father's day, where while they're arguing, rose says that she knows how sad he is, and he'll just hang around the tardis waiting for her -- she knew!)

and then on top of that with sarah-jane (which, I never watched the classics as a kid, so I didn't have that context for her beyond what the episode presented) it felt like that was sort of confirmed and made even more canon through this idea that the doctor is constantly mourning the inevitable deaths of their companions and would rather simply leave them behind at some point than watch that happen (and they've seen that happen before, although dying for a cause versus just... dying, because you die, while they don't, they just continue on and on, always seeking connection, always knowing that time will take them away, that's a whole other thing)

and then of course there's ten's... I would call it "sex appeal" because it's david tennant and with his performance there's immediately a bit of a focus on oh he's quite pretty and he faints/is knocked unconscious in both of his first episodes, and a lot more flirting, and the people want to see sparks or what have you... but the doctor as portrayed and written is still... not coming at it that way. yes yes girl in the fireplace but also, once again, doesn't work for me, because I find it soooo much more interesting that the doctor would imprint on A Life - and a life that they admire -- and speedrun the exact thing that they're most afraid of with their companions... that she ages and dies and it's the one thing that the doctor simply cannot stop

meanwhile rose is quite young and swept up in this whole massive adventure and very much reads the doctor not as an alien (frequently surprised by their alien-ness) and gets jealous of sarah-jane as if she's an ex, and renette as if she's... a replacement? but really it's more that the doctor met her at the point when she was about to accept her life as it was. not an exciting life, not a bad life, but always having to ignore the idea that there must be more to it than this. and the idea that she might be unceremoniously dumped back in that after seeing just how This the this could be, of course that's terrifying. and of course she's simultaneously taken with the dashing doctor and the jetset life, and worried she could be replaced, because to her the doctor saved her at 19 years old. in some ways the doctor created her (considering who she becomes after dooms day)

contrasted to martha who initially has a similar kind of experience, but the doctor doesn't meet her at the space she's in with them -- ten is leaning on her, like they did with rose, but not giving anything back unless kicking and screaming and traumatising her whole family. martha's trajectory is so so tragic, because she barely gets a taste of the splendor versus the horrors and the latter marks her for life. but she also knows to walk away from those overwhelming feelings, rather than give into them, she knows they'll never be rewarded and she also grows beyond wanting to be a crutch for the doctor (the fact that she then ends up as a soldier, well... ouch)

and then of course donna, who never has those fucking awe-feelings to begin with and whose connection with the doctor is explicitly de-romanticised but never placed on a lesser pedestal as if there's a hierarchy of alloromanticism. topples those pillars, never sees the doctor as anything but what the doctor is. good old donna. (sobs.) (but also... cautious hope for the specials.) (but also sobs.)

my point being. just don't buy alloromantic doctor, they're a near-immortal alien. it's such a dull simplistic way of reading their relationships to other beings. other point being. all those women who were making heart-eyes at ten, wish they'd met thirteen and had a... "yeah, this still works for me," moment. their horizons, too, are broadened by seeing More. (that or they realise they were never actually "in love" but just thought ten was a sexy skinny little snack and it blinded them.) (although jodie whittaker, too, is a snack.)

and lastly lastly ofc, is that if the doctor has a longterm (by doctor time measurement) intense relationship with anyone, whatever that might be called, it's the tardis. and that relationship is also so alien it cannot be quantified by human words for concepts

[bootyful-seventeen]

hey y'all, anyone have any good stress relief tehniques or habits they'd like to share cuz I've been more stressed in the last 3 weeks then I was in the last 6 months

[deus-and-the-machina]

xenoblade 1 is interesting because when I first played it I had really mixed feelings. mostly I think because it had been slightly overhyped for me. there were so many videos with masterpiece in the description and people saying it was their favorite.

there was a lot that first turned me off during the story (namely the way it handled its female characters made me frustrated at multiple points) and also how they handled the revenge arc because I have very very specific taste in revenge arcs and I just dont think it landed for me. 

I think I appreciate it a lot more now that im fully deep into the series. I do like a lot about it, from its gameplay to its environment to a lot of the little cast interactions, to just shulk existing. yeah. yeah its alright

[thursdayg1rl]

i WILL have waist length hair by next year . no matter what

[cuteniarose]

It’s almost 6 a.m and I can’t sleep because I’m being plagued by thoughts of The Latest OC

[esleep]

i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).

shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.

i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.

when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.

anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[heavenbarnes]

I wanna make it (so badly)

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

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

Word Count: 5.8k

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

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

Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.

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

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

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

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

Another odd job to add to your growing list.

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

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

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

You always did very well.

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

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

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

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

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

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

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

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

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

Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.

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

The woman that once held the world by the balls.

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

The Donaldson's.

Ah fuck.

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

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

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

There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.

You were no exception to the rule.

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

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

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

The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.

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

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

Oh, okay then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you knew he was watching you.

-

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

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

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

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

Felt good to be the winner.

Even just once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

The kid's running you ragged.

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

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

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

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

You know you're about to earn your keep.

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

Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.

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

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

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

The Original Sin.

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

"It's nice to finally meet you."

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

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

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

"How did she go out there?"

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

He laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Must've been distracted."

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

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

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

-

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

An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your elbow is too low."

It was a miracle you didn't scream.

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

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

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

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

"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."

Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.

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

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

It wasn't.

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

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

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

And Lily upon her trusty steed.

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

"Lily, go find grandma."

Then it really was just you two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good girl."

There it was.

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

So, you should've moved.

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

You should've moved.

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

Obedient thing you seem to be.

"Show me that again?"

So,

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

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

A simple transactional arrangement.

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

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

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

You figure Art will take what he can get.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

Chasing Lily around a court.

Adhering to Tashi's every request.

Being Art's fantasy.

Being Art's.

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

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

Winning?

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

Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.

Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.

Until, well- until they weren't.

"Would you like a coffee?"

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

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

Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.

"Yes please."

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

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

Had he always looked this captivating?

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

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

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

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

"Mr. Donaldson-"

"Art."

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

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

Naturally.

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

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

Maybe it was fate.

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

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

Yet.

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

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

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

"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"

"Actually, it's still Duncan."

You screamed.

Right in his face.

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

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

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

What a fucking sight.

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

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

It took all your strength to find your words.

"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”

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

There's the Tashi you were expecting.

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

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

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

"Why am I here?"

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

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

-

And he had, just like she'd said.

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

And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.

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

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

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

But the showerhead knew all about them.

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

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

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

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

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

Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?

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

You loved it.

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

Tashi's car was gone.

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

At least you didn't scream this time.

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

"Oh, ok."

"I'll see you on the court."

Oh, ok.

Lest he see the disappointment that took over.

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

Tennis was fun too, you guess.

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

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

It never came.

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

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

This was going to hurt.

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

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

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

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

Like he was enjoying himself.

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

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

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

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

No hurry, but impending.

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

Now this was God's favourite.

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

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

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

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

This was more your speed.

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

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

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

"I didn't give up."

He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.

"Mmm, you didn't."

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

"Where's my prize?"

There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With everything he had.

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

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

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

Utterly devotional.

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

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

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

The style was calculated.

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

Playing a game.

Art struggled to do anything but win.

"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."

"Art."

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

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

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

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

"Tell me this feels good, please."

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

You might black out.

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

He whined.

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

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

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

He was going for gold.

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

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

Oh, ok.

Art Donaldson knew what he liked.

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

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

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

A deuce.

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

"Uh- I already have."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can't lose- you."