#mock court session

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1220: A Jamboree Court (Super Smash Bros Ultimate X Mother 3)

12:10 p.m. at the Smash Mansion's Living Room........

Kumatora: (Laying the Back of her Head Onto her Boyfriend, Ludwig's, Lap While Playing Video Games on her Switch) Hey, Luddy, whatcha reading up there?

Ludwig: (Reading a Book) The Diary of an Enraged Koopa. A very old folktales of a story, but gets more intriguing once you find a good amount of twists and turns the more you get invested. What game are you playing down there?

Kumatora: Thie first Fatal Fury game. The controls are as stiff as any other old fighting game in that Era, but it's still a pretty fun experience until you've reached-

Terry, the character she's playing, scream is suddenly heard on Kuma's Switch right before the announcer screams out the words "K.O."

Kuma: ('Groans in Annoyance') Geese. (Turns her Switch off on Sleep Mode Before Setting it on the Coffee Table Beside Her)

Ludwig: You're taking a break already?

Kumatora: For now. I've been trying to beat that guy since last night and my ass keeps getting handed to me in a platter with those DUMB counterattacks of his! ('Sigh') It's annoying......

Ludwig: I bet. But try not to give up hope just yet. (Gives Kuma a Reassuring Smile on his Face) I'm sure you'll finally be able to claim your victory in due time.

Kumatora: Oh, trust me, It'll happen. And I will DEFINITELY rub it on his pixeled face the whole way through. (Stretch her Arms and Back Out a Little Bit) But right now, I just wanna sit back, relax, and watch my prince of a boyfriend read his book from down below.

Ludwig: You sure that's you want to do? It could get you bored within seconds.

Kumatora: (Shrugs) Fine by me. I can handle the boredom. (Forms a Seductive Smirk on her Face) So long as I could get a nice glimpse of that good looking face of yours~ (Makes a Small Kissing Sound Towards her Boyfriend)

Ludwig: ('Heh') (Closes his Book and Place it to the Side) Tell you what, as token of your bravery and flattery- (Looks Down and Smirks Back at his Girlfriend) How about I put my reading time on hold and just kiss you instead?~

Kumatora: (Giggles a Bit) Yes please~

The young couple slowly lean their heads over to one another for a kiss until a loud sound of crying and sorrow suddenly rings both their eardrums.

'WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAAAH'

Kumatora: The hell!? (Turns to the Source of the Crying Along with Ludwig)

Ludwig: Father?

Bowser: (Looks Up to See the Young Couple While He's Down on his Knees, Wiping the Tears Away From his Eyes) Oh. ('Sniff') Hey, kids. ('Sniff') Wassup.

Kumatora: Is.....everything okay over there, Mr. K?

Ludwig: (Sighs While Pinching the Bridge of his Nose) Please don't tell us you got rejected by mother for the umpteenth time.........

Bowser: (Glares at Ludwig) No!....Well. I mean, I did, but.....('Ugh')Just take a look at this!!! (Shows Kuma and Ludwig a Flyer He's Holding in his Hand)

Kumatora: (Leans Over to Read the Flyer) Super Mario Party Jamboree 🎉 🎉

Ludwig: Ah so they're planning to host another party later this year?

Bowser: Yeah, and they just banned ME from ever participating!! EVER! (Starts Whimpering) ('Sniff') I'm not even allow to get any slice of cake.......

Kumatora: (Turns Away While Rubbing the Back of her Head Back and Forth) Well, to be fair, you have been terrorizing those parties since the very beginning, so......(Turns Back to Bowser) Wait, haven't you gotten invited to one at some point?

Ludwig: Yes, he has. (Rolls his Eyes) And for SOME idiotic reason, he managed to botched up any chances of ever coming back in the party after.

Bowser: Will cut your old man some slack already!?(Crosses his Arms Together) You sound just as bad as your mother and her stupid plumber-knight boy toy! Besides, my reason for doong it wasn't that stupid at the time.....

Ludwig: (Gives Bowser a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Father, you willingly chose to go back to your old, scheming antics just because you got bored. How else are we supposed to react to that?

Kumatora: Yeah, that was pretty stupid on your part, sir.

Bowser: (Slouches his Arms Down in Pure Sadness) I KNOOW!!! That was practically my golden ticket to finally get invited to every new party set up and I just BURNED it all down to ashes! (Covers his Face While Crying Some More) What the hell is wrong with meeheeheeheeheeheeeee!?~

Ludwig: Sometimes I wonder......

Kumatora: (Gently Slaps Her Boyfriend's Arm While Lightly Pouting at Him) Luddy. (Gives Bowser a Small, Reassuring Smile) You've really been missing that Mario Party life these days, huh?

Bowser: (Wiping More Tears Off his Face) Yeah. I mean.....('Sniff') I know it was never the most normal, safest party out there, but it was still a fun time all around. For the most part. ('Groans') I gotta get back on that invite list damnit!!

Ludwig: Well, if all else fails, you could try and take this to Smash Bros Court.

Kumatora: (Turns Back to Ludwig) You guys have a court sessions here?

Ludwig: Only mock ones. It's mostly use to settle simpler, more trivial disputes like: who stole and ate all the cookies from the cookie jar, who's more worthy of using the remote controller to the living room's TV for the next few days, and so on. Mother Peach and Mario are the judges, so it'll might be harder to convince them otherwise......

Bowser: (Happily Wraps his Arm Around Ludwig's Shoulders) Which is all the more reason why I'm appointing you and your girlfriend as my two lawyers.

Ludwig: (Puts on an Unsure Look) I don't know, father....Don't you already have lawyers of your own? Surely they have the time to fill in.

Bowser: Who? Ted and Phil? Nah, they've already quit a long time ago. (Place his Finger on his Chin) I think one of them already got sued or something?

Kumatora: (Casually Salutes to Bowser) Well, you can already count me in, sir.

Ludwig: (Turns Back to his Girlfriend) Kuma? You sure you want to get involved in this?

Kumatora: (Happily Nodded) Yeah, the whole thing a mock trial, right? It could be fun for the both of us.

Ludwig: Pretty certain you'll have more enjoyment out it than I will....

Kumatora: Come on, give it a chance, babe~

Kumatora/Bowser: PLEEEEEEEEEEASE?~

The princess and king then proceeds to wobble their lips up and down as they present Ludwig two sad puppy dog eyes. There hasn't been a single person brave enough to turn down such a adorably cheap tactic yet, let alone someone as intelligent and mature as the oldest of the Koopaling Family.

Ludwig: ('Sighs in Defeat') Okay, fine. I'll represent as another lawyer.

Bowser: (Happily Hugs His Son on One Side) Thanks, son!~

Kumatora: (Happily Hugs her Boyfriend om the Other Side) We promise you won't regret it, babe!~

Ludwig then receives kisses on both sides of his cheeks from both his love ones.

Ludwig: (Rolls his Eyes a Bit While Blushing a Bit) Yes, yes, I'll take your word for it or what have you....(Turns to Bowser With a Raised Eyebrow) I sure hope you're ready to take this case more seriously, father.

Bowser: ('Heh') Please. Your old man's the most serious man alive! I got this.

Few Minutes Later at the Smash Bros Courtroom.......

Bowser: (Drops Down on his Knee, Begging and Crying his Eyes Out in Front of the Judges and Everyone Else Present in the Courtroom) Please, Please PLEAHEESEE get me back on the party list! I promise with all my heart, soul, and MIGHT that I'll be on my best behavior, from start to finish!

Mario: (Raises an Eyebrow While Sitting Next to Peach on the Conjoint Judges Desk) Really? Give us one good reason why we should.

Peach: (Glares at Bowser) And it better not be because you're bore!

Bowser: That's definitely not the reason at all, i swear! The second to last party you invited me to was most fun I've ever had in long time! I can't let it all go to waste now!!

Ludwig: (Walks Over to Bowser's Side While Wearing a Laywer Suit with his Hair Tied Up in the Back) It's true. The day you invited our client to the party for the very first time in years has been one of if not the most happiest days of his abnormal life. His very own words, not ours.

Kumatora: (Walks Over to the Other Side While Wearing a Light Blue Colored Suit of her Own) His actions so far today only shows how deeply regretful and apologetic he truly feels for returning old, more devious habits in the party after.

Bowser: IT'S KILLING ME INSIDEE!!

Kumatora: (Gently Pats the Top of Bowser's Shoulder) It is killing the poor man slowly inside, folks. Have mercy.

Ludwig: (Shows the Judges Kamek, Sitting in the Spectator Chairs, Happily Waving Hello to Him and Bowser) Our client's father/my grandfather is more than willing to return his role as the host of the Unlucky Spaces in his place. And we can assure you all that he will do anything you request him to do going forward, so long as it's legal.

Mario/Peach: (Slowly Raises Eyebrows at the Trio) Anything?

Bowser: Well, I wouldn't really go that far-(Suddenly Felt Ludwig Kicking him in the Thigh Before Ultimately Giving In) ('Agh') Okay, okay, fine! I promise. I'll do anything you asked, no charge necessary! Starting with the chores! (Grimaces at the Thought) Just.....please don't make wear that dumb maid outfit again......

Bayonetta: (In the Spectator Seats) Awww but you absolutely wonderful in that gown, darling!~

Bowser: (Comically Glares at Bayonetta in Particular) I look like someone's great grandma!!

Palutena: (In the Spectator Seats with Bayonetta) Better than looking like a lazy slob!~

Bowser: DON'T EVEN START OVER THERE, WOMAN!

Peach: (Sees Bowser Now Arguing With the Goddess and Witch From the Back) I dunno, dear.(Turns to Matio) You really think he'll go through anything we ask him to?

Mario: (Turns to Peach) It's possible. He has surprised us a good amount of times in the past. (Grimaces at the Thought of Bowser's Countless Antics in the Past) Besides, I REALLY don't wanna go back to dealing with his events anymore. Just thinking about give me nightmares.....

Peach: Yeah, I-(Eyes Suddenly Begins to Widened While Gasping at Mario) You had nightmares!? When!?

Mario: (Nervously Rubs the Back of his Head) Uhh.....Just recently.....Albeit a week or so. (Quickly Puts his Hands Out in Front of Him in Defense) B-But I swear, it wasn't that big of deal! And it's definitely not anything for you to worry about eithe-

Peach: Too late!~ (Pulls Mario into a Tight, Loving Hug) You got me worried sick right now!~

Mario: (Sighs in Defeat as He Lays the Side of his Head onto his Princess' Chest) I know. I promise I'll tell you more about it after this trial is over.

Peach: (Starts Pouting a Bit) ('Hmph') You better. Or I'm gonna keep smothering you and kiss you all over your dumb, cute face!~ (Starts Kissing Mario's Cheek)

Mario: (Chuckles Ticklishly by Peach's Kisses) You're going to do that no matter what I do regardless!~ (Smirks a Bit) And I won't mind that one bit~

Peach: I know you won't. It's the only that makes you feel better. (Smirks Back at her Teddy Bear) And I am more than happy to provide~ (Gives Mario One Last Kiss on the Lips) Now, come. Let's get this put whole thing to rest already.

Mario: (Simply Nodded in Agreement) Let's. (Picks the Gravel Up From the Desk Before Beating it Down On the Sound Block)

'BANG' 'BANG' 'BANG'

Mario: Order! Order in the court!

Mario looks around to see Bowser, who is now being hold back by both Ludwig and Kumatora, still arguing with the witch and goddess and everyone else in the room talking among themselves, completely unaware of the attention he tried to give him.

Mario: Uhh. Guys?-

Peach: QUIIIIEEEEEEEEEET!

The loud, booming voice of an angry princess was more than enough to stop everyone from what they were doing, shut 'em up, and give her and Mario their much needed attention.

Mario: (A Bit Startled by his Princess' Scream) Mama Mi- ('Clears Throat') (Smiles a Bit Sheepishly at Peach) T-Thank you, dear.

Peach: (Gives Mario the Sweetest Smile She Can Muster)

Mario: (Turns Back to Everyone) Now, after giving it a lot of consideration, Peach and I decided to give you another shot.

Bowser: Ah come on! I JUST- Wait. You serious? (Eyes Starts Widen at the Consideration in Question) I-I'm not banned anymore?

Mario: (Happily Nodded) Yep. You're back on the invite list.

Bowser: I'm back on the list. I'm back on the-(Starts Smiling Brightly) Kids, we did it! I'm back on this list!! (Pumps his Fists Up on the Air) WO-

Peach: HAAANG ON JUST A SECOND, MISTER!

Bowser immediately stops cheering in rejoice, right on cue.

Bowser: Y-Yes?

Peach: Before you start going around celebrating, we have a few conditions for you we need to discuss.

Mario: Starting with the chores you promised to do.

Peach: No maid dress needed.

Bowser: (Pumps his Fists and Elbows Up and Down) Yes! (Turns Back to Bayonetta and Palutena with a Snarky Smirk) Suck it!

Bayonetta snaps her finger in disappointment while Palutena sighs and rolls her eyes in annoyance..

Bowser: (Turns Back to Judges With a Huge Smile on his Facs) I'll have those chores done right before know it.

Peach: (Smiles Back) That's great!~ And we'll have Bayo and Paulie monitoring you the whole way through.

Bowser: (Chuckles Lightly) Yeah, I- (Eyes Widened Up Once Again) Wait, what?

Bayonetta: (Starts Smirking at Bowser Along with her Goddess Next to Her) You heard the lady judge, dear~ We'll keep watch of you fulfilling your chore-ly duties and make VERY good sure you have everything nice and spotless.

Palutena: (Starts Snapping her Finger Around to Every Word That Comes Out Of her Mouth) ('Snap') Suck. ('Snap') On. ('Snap') That.

The couple starts a small, smug filled high five woth one another, pissing Bowser off effortlessly.

Bowser: ('Growls') Motherfu- (Balled and Squeezes his Fist Up Tight Before Slowly Turning his Growl into Deep Breath) Alright, fine. I'll accept these terms.

Peach: Good. Now, second, you have to swear in this courtroom that you won't do anything scheming behind the scenes.

Mario: if we catch or any one of your crew doing anything diabolical, you're off the list for good, got it?

Bowser: (Place One Hand on the Book Hat Kid is Holding Up For Him While Holding Up Another Right Beside Him his Face) I, Bowser S. Koopa, solemnly swear not to cause any trouble from in and out the scenes amd behave myself like the adult I am.

Ludwig: (Gives Bowser a Proud Smile) Very mature of you, father.

Mario: (Nodded in Approval) Good, good. Very good indeed. Now, for the final condition.....

Bowser: (Puts on a More Confident Grin on his Face) Lay it on me, judge. I'll definitely get that one in the bag too!

Mario: I sure hope, cause the last and final thing you have to do is not to hit on Peach for at least three months.

Bowser: You can count on- (Eyes Widens Up Yet Again) I beg your pardon?

Peach: You heard my man! You need to stop hitting on me for three whole months, right up until the day the Jamboree Party starts. (Raises an Eyebrow at Bowser) Surely you can handle that just fine, right?

Ludwig: (Simply Nodded) No need to worry, your honor. We are more than certain that our client is up for the task.

Bowser is at a lost for thought before Ludwig kick in the chins again immediately taking him back to reality.

Bowser: Ah! Uh- Huh? What?

Kumatora: (Raises an Eyebrow at Bowser) Mr. B, do you have what it takes to make it through three months without trying to hit on the princess?

Bowser: ('Scoffs') Y-Yeah! (Crosses his Arms Together While Huffing and Puffing) Of course I can!......But...uh....

Ludwig: (Sighs While Pinching the Bridge of his Nose) Oh my God, what now?

Bowser: Hey, n-not that I'm complaining or thing, but......Does it HAVE to be three months? (Slowly Shrugs in an Awkward Fashion) Couldn't it last for two or.....one in a half months instea-

Crowd: ('Groans Loudly')

Kumatora: (Glares at Bowser) Dude!

Ludwig: Dear lord...............

Kamek: ('Sigh') That child of mine.........

Palutena: He's doomed......

Hat Kid: (Shakes her Head at Bowser With a Disapproving Look on her Face) Mm-mm.

Bowser: What? I was just wondering is all!....If it's a teensy bit possi-

Peach: (Angrily Slams her Palms on the Desk) ('SLAM') NO! We are NOT shortening this up for you, Bowser! You have only three months and that's absolutely, positively FINAL!

Mario: Anything else you want to dare add?

Bowser: (Shaking in his Knees, Scared Shitless) .....No.

Ludwig,: ('Sigh') Can't believe I'm doing this, but I will make sure my father....client or what have you, make it through that task till the third month rolls by.

Peach: (Frowns a Bit at Ludwig) That's very sweet of you, Luddy, but you don't have to help fight your father's battles for him.

Ludwig: I know, but I can tell that he adores and misses going to one of your annual parties. (Shrugs) It's a decent enough reason for me to make sure he succeeds. And also because I love him.

Crowd: Awwwww~

Bowser: (Heart Begins to Melt as He Pulls Ludwig into a Loving Hug) I love you too, son~ Thank you~

Ludwig: ('Sigh') Yes, yes. It's no problem at all. Just don't screw this up.

Bowser: Have more faith in me than that, kid. Your old man got this!

Ludwig: We'll see.

Kumatora: I'll help you out too, Mr. K!

Bowser: (Turns to Kuma With a Genuine Surprise Look om his Face) You will?

Ludwig: Kuma, are you sure?

Kumatora: (Happily Nodded) Yeah, man. (Hugs her Boyfriend) No way I'm gonna let my sweetheart of a boyfriend do this alone. (Turns Back to Bowser) We'll make sure you won't botch this one up, sir. (Slowly Starts to Crack Both of her Knuckles One by One While Giving Bowser The Most Intimidating Looking Smile She Could Muster) By any means.....('Crack') Necessary.

Bowser: ('Gulp') (Turns Back to Ludwig, Whispering to Him in Even More Fear) Your girlfriend is terrifying......

Ludwig: She is a highly trained PsI-User. Fear comes to the territory in some areas. She fought an actual tiger once growing up.

Bowser: With her or bare hands?

Ludwig: Yes.

Biwser: Oh.....(Takes a Very Deep Breath) Well, crippling fear aside.....(Gently Pats The Top of Ludwig's Shoulder) She's a real keeper, son.

Ludwig: (Forms a Proud Smirk on his Face) Indeed she is.

Peach: Alright, pardon my rudeness, is there anything else we need to discuss here?

Everyone in the Spectator's seat whispers among themselves for a few seconds before turning back to judges and one of them screams out.....

Palutena: Nope! We're good!

Peach: (Smiles Brightly) Good! I have a teddy bear sitting next to me right now, that needs to be loved and taken care of by yours truly~

Crowd: ('Chuckles Lightly')

Mario: (Pouts at Peach While Making Cute Angry Sounding Noises)

Peach: (Turns to Mario) Oh don't gimme that look! Everyone knows I call you that at this point. No use in hiding. Anyways, Case Dismissed!! (Picks the Gravel Up From the Desk Before Beating it Down On the Sound Block)

'Bang'

@bestpony666

@caleb13frede

@ma-lemons

@decibelcoatl

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Couldddd you please write something with hiromi?? I'd appreciate itttt so muchh :)

At Law

Tags: Hiromi Higuruma x fem!Reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, hate fucking, unhinged!hiromi, depictions of violence including murder

Synopsis: Being the state’s district attorney was your dream job. After years of law school and hard work, you were finally appointed the job and allowed to represent the state in court. You singlehandedly decided which cases to prosecute and who to bring to justice. When your old academic rival, Hiromi, shows up as a defense attorney in court one evening, you know he’s going to give you a hard trial… and a hard fuck.

An: Anything for you nepobaby :)) Hope you enjoy this. I swear I'm going to make these shorter every time, but then, I start writing and literally can't stop.

You two have been chasing each other for the longest time.

It started in law school. You don't exactly remember how it happened, but slowly over time, you and Hiromi began playing your little academic race.

Both of you were brilliant, quick, and determined. Honestly, you two were like a professor's dream to have.

You found yourself studying longer, committing to all-nighters just to read over several codes of law and past cases in the court. All of it just to score a little bit higher than him on a test.

But dammit, he was faster than you when answering questions the professor proposes. His photographic memory serves him well as he's able to distinctly remember what code a law comes from and where the code is at in the Code of Federal Regulations.

Don't even get me started on how mock trials went. The professor would actually have to stop pairing you two against each other because it would become so toxic and brutal between the two.

As law school progressed, the workload just got worse. The school expected you to complete assignments, study for the bar, and take on unpaid internships. You were a slave for your degree.

Hiromi wasn't immune to those types of pressures either, and as much as he hated to admit it, study partners help retain information better. It would help effectively consume the source material in half the time. Unfortunately, the rest of his peers were just so beneath him...

Well, besides you.

All-nighters weren't lonely anymore. You and Hiromi would drink enough caffeine to kill an elephant and go through weeks worth of content in a night.

"You know... the release of endorphins can help concentration and reduce stress, thus helping students study." Hiromi said one early morning.

It was around four a.m, and you two were covering the petty crimes section. To say it was incredibly boring was an understatement. Students like you and Hiromi would never represent or prosecute clients in petty crimes. You two were destined for so much more.

"What are you suggesting, Hiro?" You ask before a small yawn escapes your mouth. You hadn't even looked up from your book.

"I'm suggesting that we help each other by taking a quick break." He responds as he shoves the book away from your lap. Your surprised eyes look up at his tired ones, and he cups your cheeks before he leans down to kiss you.

You would walk into class sore the next day. As soon as the adrenaline from one round wore off, you two were gunning for the next.

Your study sessions continued on and so did your competitiveness.

When you scored one point higher than him on the bar, he hate fucked you until morning.

Then, he made it his mission to surpass you everywhere else too. Recruiters and attorneys personally from different law firms were ringing Hiromi's phone constantly.

You genuinely believed that he would take the calls on speakerphone just to fucking spite you. You could hear the lawyers on the phone praise him so highly, practically begging for him to come practice at their firm.

Of course, you were getting some recruitment opportunities too, but it was still somehow harder for women to find jobs in the criminal justice field than it was for men. You also hadn't been selling yourself to these firms as much as he was because you had your mind set on working for the state. You wanted to be a prosecutor for the district attorney.

The icing on the cake was when you two were having one of your "study breaks" (aka Hiromi had you bent over your bed, and he was delivering the deepest, most toe curling backshots known to man), and he took a phone call from the district attorney's office.

His hand covered your mouth as he continued to thrust roughly into you while the man on the phone offered Hiromi a job.

"Hm? Oh, thank you for the opportunity." He graciously spoke over the phone as he was absolutely bullying your insides. Your stomach coiled from anger and arousal. You fucking hated him so much. "I'm weighing out all of my options now, but I'll have an answer for you by the end of the week, sir."

After more pleasantries, he hung up the phone and bent over to where he could whisper in your hear. "Hear that, little dove? I'm getting job opportunities from the state while you're under me getting ruined."

"You know, I'll probably be too busy from here on out to play this childish games with you." Thrust. "That'll be too bad, won't it?" Thrust. "Can't say I'll miss you though." Thrust. "Maybe this pretty cunt, but that'll probably be it." Thrust. "Better make this last one count, shouldn't we?" Thrust.

Oh, and he made good on his word. Your entire body ached after he made you finish for the nth time that evening. "I'll see you around, little dove." He whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek and leaving your dorm.

He made good on his word about that too. He never returned to your dorm. Sure, you two were graduating in two days, but some small part of you thought he'd might come over for a celebration.

No, he left you behind. He left you behind. You lost.

The anger burned hot for a few months as you gathered barrings after law school, especially when you'd see his name in the papers.

Defense Attorney Higuruma gets a non-guilty verdict for alleged drug trafficker!

Higuruma sways jury in closing argument, providing the most gut-wrenching speech!

Higuruma, Higuruma, Higuruma.

He was a fucking sensation in the criminal justice field, and his name left a sour taste in your mouth.

The anger only started to subside once you landed your dream job after a long internship. You were finally a prosecutor in a major circuit court in the crimes division.

Hiromi's name finally fled from your brain as you started to flood the newspapers.

Prosecutor helps put away notorious serial killer for life.

Cartel drug lord behind bars after district attorney helps deliver a guilty verdict for over 32 charges.

You finally felt like you hadn't been left behind. You were living the life you wanted to live ever since you were little. Did you imagine you'd be married by now? Yeah, sure. You just... hadn't met the right one yet.

Dating was hard while maintaining a professional career. You had to be extremely choosey for one. It would be scandalous to see a prosecutor dating someone with a criminal record.

And the men were sweet, don't get me wrong. They'd take you on nice dates, write you pitiful love letters, and treat you like a princess... They were all so collectively boring, especially in bed.

You'd tell them! You'd give them incredibly detailed instruction to be rough and mean to you, but they'd always laugh and make some excuse for not wanting to hurt you. Ugh.

Maybe you were ruined by Hiromi... because the only thing that got you off nowadays was the thought of him whispering hateful words into your ear while pounding himself into you with little concern or remorse.

Slowly, the gifts would start appearing.

A bouquet of white roses sitting on your desk. Do you miss me, LD?

You thought it was a simple mistake or a sick prank from one of the criminals you help lock away. You would quietly dispose of the gifts until the slowly became more alarming.

Miss your sweet sounds, LD. An audio recording of you moaning on a tape recorder played.

Who are you trying to look nice for, LD? None of those men could treat you like I did. Pictures of you going out on a date.

I'll take care of them for you. Don't worry your pretty little head, LD. A dead dove.

This was enough to get a harassment and stalking charge, but you didn't want to concern the local police. For one, you knew how lousy the police were when it came to crimes like this from working alongside them. They were honestly an embarrassment. For two, you didn't want this getting out to the public because then copy cats would start up.

You tried investigating on your own, but you came up to a dead end every time. The way this person called you LD made your head spin. That's not even your initials, but the gifts were certainly intended for you.

The only refuge for you was when you were in a court room. You felt safe and protected. A stalker of this degree wouldn't be ballsy enough to confront you in a courtroom while you're surrounded by police and bailiffs constantly.

Your refuge was short-lived by catching a glimpse of a familiar face in court one evening.

He looked as handsome as he did in law school. Hiromi's tired eyes met yours, and he almost immediately cracked a smile as he approached you during recess.

"Well look at you, dove." He smiled as he looked down at you. Hiromi's dark hair laid messily on the top of his head, and he was wearing a full business suit that framed his body nicely. "I see the district attorney's office settled for the second best option after I turned them down. Good for them."

He was still as arrogant and competitive as ever, making your heart flutter like it did back in law school. "Very funny, Hiro." You roll your eyes as you stand to look up at him.

"It's all harmless jokes. I promise. I'm proud of you, really." He assures as his eyes wander your body for just a moment.

You're not use to his praise. Normally, you're not the type to enjoy it, but hearing those words made you clench around nothing as your stomach swirled with butterflies.

"Thanks... I've heard good things about you as well.." You murmur quietly, suddenly losing all your nerve. "So, are you representing someone?"

"I am. I didn't just come here to watch you for fun. Though, I would've had I known you were such a big shot." He nudges your arm gently, causing you to laugh softly. "I'm representing a young man charged with murder. I'm sure you heard about it. Big news all over the television."

"Who was the victim?" You ask as you flip through your case files. If this was a first setting, surely you wouldn't go to trial today, but the thought of going to trial against Hiromi made your heart pound with excitement. Not many lawyers gave you too much trouble during court, but Hiromi... he would be a good match.

"They can't identify the victim. Male, John Doe, early twenties. That's all the information the cops have." He explains, and you start skimming through the case file quickly. It's astonishing that the police made an arrest when there was hardly a body to work from.

"Huh." You muse quietly as you look through the crime scene photos and pictures of the defendant's hands covered in soot from a fire. The victim had been burned.

"I'll be making a motion to dismiss this case based on a lack of substantial evidence linking my defendant to the body. Just a heads up." He then winks at you and walks away from your bar as the judge comes back and sits on the bench.

It seems as though you and Hiromi will have one last back and forth like old times.

When his case gets called before the judge, Hiromi takes the pleasure in speaking first. His client is handcuffed, sitting down next to him. The defendant was young, maybe nineteen. The evidence supporting his conviction was weak, but it was still there. Convincing a jury to convict him will be tough, and that's if the judge doesn't dismiss the charges outright.

After a long, drawn out argument between you and Hiromi about the proponderance of evidence, the judge decides to not dismiss the case.

"In that case, your honor, we would like to request a hearing today." Hiromi speaks with such confidence as he stands before the judge.

"Your honor, the state hasn't had adequate time to prepare for a hearing, and this is first setting. We'd like to request a reset date to prepare our defense." You immediately follow up as you also stand up.

"Your honor, my client has been incarcerated for over twenty-five days for a charge that has flimsy evidence at best. He has a right to a speedy trial." Hiromi rebuttals.

"Enough. We'll have a trial today whether the state is ready to proceed or not." The judge decides. Wonderful.

The trial is as painful as you imagined it to be. The evidence is flimsy, and Hiromi is practically bullying the witnesses on the stand, and when it's your turn for redirect, he practically bullies you with objection after objection.

"And what did the police-"

"Objection hearsay." Hiromi stands from his chair and eyes you with that cold stare of his.

"Your honor, I haven't even finished my question without the defense counsel butting in." You argue to the judge.

"Overruled. Counsel, let her finish." The judge warns.

Your head is practically throbbing by the end of it. The jury deliberates for two hours before coming back with the sentence. You tried your hardest and made good work with what evidence you had.

"On the charge of first-degree murder, we the jury find the defendant... not guilty."

Dammit. Hiromi won once again.

"On the charge of abuse of a corpse, we the jury find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of tampering with physical evidence, we the jury find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of arson, we the jury find the defendant... guilty."

He didn't win.

"On these charges, I will impose a sentence of twenty-five years in the Fuchu Prison with the possibility of parole after ten years." The judge sentences before whacking his gavel down.

You let out an exhausting sigh as you slowly gather your things after court adjourns. Today was likely the hardest day in your career, and you can't help but think about that young nineteen-year-old who won't see freedom until he's twenty-nine.

Hiromi approaches you after the courtroom is completely empty.

"You seem tired, dove." He muses as he loosens his tie from around his neck. He'd never admit it, but you absolutely gave him a run for his money.

"It's not everyday someone gives me that much trouble in court." You softly laugh as you look up at him. You feel your cheeks warm as you realize how close he is to you.

"Yeah? Did it bring back old memories?" He steps closer as his hand slowly reaches up to cup your cheek.

"Hm? Of me winning our mock trials?" You ask with a cheeky grin, and his grip tightens a bit.

"I distinctly remember our record being 15-13 with me having 15 wins." He replies as he leans down to you. He remembers the score you two kept from back in law school?

"You must be still sore about me outscoring you on the bar if you kept up with our scores from mock trials."

"Mmm, quite the contrary actually, you've always been my favorite opponent, even if you piss me off." He replies as he leans down towards you and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss was full of everything you could ever imagine: heat, lust, a hint of resentment towards each other. Before you know it, you're pressed against the table as Hiromi's hands roam your body like he's in a frenzy.

"Hiro.." You moan as he kisses down your neck roughly biting on your flesh. "My office.." You whine, trying to get him to ease up on you just long enough so you two could get out of the courtroom.

"And if I say no, little dove?" He whispers in your ear as his hand slips underneath your dress with such ease. "You'd let me take you right here, wouldn't you?"

"Hiro~" You whine in a breathy tone as his fingers trace around your clit like they did so long ago.

"That's not an answer, little dove." He demands as he applies more pressure. "I asked if you'd let me fuck you on this bar until you forgot your own name."

"Yes-!" You gasp as his fingers skillfully play with your most sensitive area.

"That's what i figured. You were always such a slut back then too. Somethings never change, hm?" He muses as he goes back to sucking and kissing on your neck. His fingers tease near your entrance, but they slowly trail back up to your clit.

"You're lucky I respect you enough." He growls lowly before he removes his hand. "Lead the way to your office."

As soon as you two are behind closed doors in your modest office, clothes are being thrown onto the floor, moans and small whispers of sweet nothings were exchanged. You could quite literally feel your heartbeat fluttering deep inside your cunt.

He gently nudges you to lay down on the leather couch you had in your office for the late nights you spent reviewing evidence. Your skin connects with the soft leather as he gets between your legs. "I wonder if you still taste the same, little dove."

His tongue gently laps at you, and he immediately hums with satisfaction. "Somehow sweeter, actually." He answers his own question as flattens his tongue and licks you from entrance to clit, savoring your fluids of arousal on his tongue.

Your hands find his hair, and you gently tug on it as he helps himself to your wetness. He takes his time, lapping at you slowly while gently suckling on the small bundle of nerves. Sometimes you swear he's spelling his name into your cunt with his tongue before he shoves his tongue directly inside you, drinking your nectar straight from the source.

"H-hiro~!" You whimper as you try to shuffle your hips away. The stimulation was too much to handle.

"Don't try to run from me, little dove." He grunts as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you right back down onto his mouth.

His nose bumps into your clit as you subconsciously ride his face, searching for release. "Yeeahh, there we gooo. There's my little dove.. bein' such a slut." He coos as he buries his face deeper into your core.

His entire face is damp from your delicious juices. He's such a messy eater, getting it all over his chin and nose. His tired eyes flutter up to look at you as you're on the crux of your orgasm.

"Cum on my face, little dove. Let me have you." He instructs before lapping at your cunt like a starved man.

Your voice goes high pitched and breathy as you grab onto his hair tightly, forcing him in even more before you finish all over his mouth. He gratefully continues to run his tongue along your folds until your legs are trembling on his shoulders.

You softly pant as you relax into the couch. You hadn't had an orgasm like that in so long. You had almost forgotten how they feel.

Hiromi looks up at you with a confident smirk and an intoxicated gaze. "Seems like you missed me, little dove."

"Please, I only missed when you're too preoccupied to run your mouth." You retort with a grin.

"Is that so?" He questions as he pulls down his boxers, and his length springs up from the constraints of the fabric. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you're reminded of how big he is.

As if on muscle memory, you turn to get in doggy position because that was his and your position of choice back in college, but he grabs your thighs and prevents you from moving.

"Nuh uh. You're gonna look at me when I take you this time." He grins as he positions himself between your thighs. He fists his length a few times before slowly dragging his fat tip up and down your sopping wet folds, savoring the feeling with a small groan. "I wanna see the tears in your pretty eyes, little dove."

You're about to argue and protest about the tears part, but he's quick to shut you up by forcing his length into you all at once. Hiromi's not only long, but he's very girthy, stretching you so deliciously. White hot pain courses through you as your nails dig into the couch.

"Ah-! F-fuck!" You curse as you try to get use to his size.

"Mmm~ you're tight, dove. How long has it been for you, hm? Surely you've fucked someone since college, unless you've been hopelessly waiting for me." He grins as his hips are slow. He allows you the space to almost get use to him before he shoves into you aggressively, making you see stars.

"Ngh... p-probably like.. uh.. oh god, six months?" You answer as you stutter over your words. Your last hookup had ghosted you after you slept with him. Though, it didn't really bother you. He wasn't good in bed at all, and he called you crazy for asking him to be mean to you during the deed.

Hiromi simply smirks down at you, proud of himself for how fast he can make you a mess underneath him.

"Oh, you poor thing... hah.. No one can take care of this pussy like I can, hm?" He taunts as his hands grab ahold of your hips. His eyes are fixated on where you two are connects. He loves watching his length sink inside you.

Your warm wet entrance only serves to suck him in further, causing him to groan and continue his deep, ruthless pacing.

"N-no..." You're not even able to deny it to him and play hard to get. No one comes close to making you feel as good as he does.

His hips snap forward harshly, fucking you deeper into the black leather of the couch beneath you. Your entire body jolts with each rough thrust.

"Only I'm good for you, isn't that right little dove? You're mine, aren't you?" He asks as his hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, gently applying pressure. His eyes are now staring deeply into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Fuck, Hiro.." You whine, unable to commit to saying you're his. He applies a bit more pressure with his thumb and fingertips.

"I asked you a question." He grits as he slams back into you at a dizzying rate. "Are you mine?"

"Oh~ fuck.. I-" You can barely get a word out as he's ruthlessly abusing your little cunt. This was the roughness you had begged all those other guys for. "Yes-! God, fuck, yes." You cry as you feel your stomach clenching with the burning passion of another orgasm.

"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret because you're mine now, dove." He mumbles lowly as he leans closer towards you. His hips keep up with his rhythm as his face is close to your ear. "That guy you sent to prison today was innocent of all counts."

Your hands reach up and hold onto his back muscles as he's rutting deep inside of you, reaching new places with his new position.

"What-? Hiro... I don't.."

"You sent an innocent man to prison, little dove. Doesn't that bother you? You're sick just like me." He continues on, making you feel all confused.

"How... ah~ how do you know he's innocent?" You ask as your eyebrows furrow. Your hands search his back, and your legs wrap around him as if you're hugging him.

"Because I did it." He growls into your ear. "That pathetic excuse for a man wasn't good enough for you, LD."

Chills immediately shoot through your body from him calling you by those damn initials. LD. You cling to him for a moment, unsure of what to even feel or say. His hips continue to rut inside of you.

"What's the matter, little dove?"

LD. Little dove. You squeeze your eyes shut as you finally piece everything together. Your last hookup didn't disappear. Your stalker, Hiromi, took care of him just like he promised he would.

For some sick reason, your stomach continues to clench as he's rocking back and forth. Your eyes meet his.

"Hiro... that's so.." You can't get the words out before you're finishing all over his cock with a high-pitched squeal.

Hiromi grins wildly as he watches you come undone from your orgasm. "My little dove is just as sick as I am, isn't she?" He coos before he leans back up.

His hips starts to drill into you mercilessly, not giving you a chance to catch your breath or even think. "Oh, fuck!" He curses as he's chasing his high deep inside you. “Mmnph~ gonna cum inside you and really make you mine.” He coos as his hips start moving sloppily.

You know it’s so wrong and taboo, but you couldn’t help but feel your arousal start building again. He just confessed to you about a serious crime, yet your pussy was still soaked, making the most delicious plap! plap! plap! noises as he pounded into you.

“Fuuuuck~” He groans as you feel his thick length twitching inside of you as he spills deep into your womb.

For a moment, you’re completely speechless. Hiromi softly pants as he presses small kisses into your collarbones. “‘m sorry. I had to do it, dove. I couldn’t let him get close to you.” He murmurs quietly. “Only I get to hear your sweet sounds. No one knows you better than me.”

Taking a deep breath, you realize that if this ever gets brought to light, you and Hiromi are going down for life. You gently nuzzle your face into his neck. “Hiro, you’re insane.”

“I know that, I do.” His voice is so sweet, cooing to you. “But we can get away with it, even if we’re miraculously caught.” He presses a sweet kiss to your temple.

Well, a year later, and the two renowned lawyers are married. At least you didn’t marry someone with a criminal record ;)

[wannab3-writer]

Country Club Rivalry

PATRICK ZWEIG X CHILDHOOD FRIEND READER (some Art x reader)

NOTES : GOD, how I tried to make this an Art x Reader because I'm an Art GIRLIE, but Pat just had to come out on top for this one, truly…"

WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread

wc: 5.3k

description:

When three friends work at the same country club, things are bound to get messy—especially when they have a bet about who can win over the reader first.

The Oakridge Country Club was bustling with its usual summer energy. Guests lounged by the pool, chatting under the striped umbrellas, while golf carts zipped along the winding paths. The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows on the clay tennis courts where Patrick and Art were finishing their morning lessons.

You stood at the server station near the patio, jotting down drink orders on your notepad. It wasn't your first summer at the country club, but you still enjoyed the easy rhythm of the job—the way the breeze rustled through the trees, the laughter of kids playing by the pool, and the familiar faces of the regulars.

Patrick waved at you from across the tennis courts, his hair tousled from teaching. He was grinning like he always did when he'd just finished a good session. Art stood beside him, spinning his racket in his hand, looking relaxed and effortlessly charming.

"Hey, how's your section?" Patrick called, jogging over with Art trailing behind. He was wearing his usual tennis gear, white shirt, and shorts, with a blue visor to keep the sun out of his eyes.

"Pretty good," you replied, glancing at your notepad. "Mrs. Anderson is on her third mimosa, so I'm expecting a big tip."

Art laughed. "Better watch out, she's got a mean backhand when she's tipsy. I saw her smack a golf ball into the pond last week. Her caddie still hasn't recovered."

Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Mrs. Anderson. Did you know she was a tennis champion back in the day? She could probably still give us a run for our money."

Art leaned in, lowering his voice. "Speaking of giving people a run for their money, I heard you've been racking up the tips lately. What's your secret?"

You shrugged with a playful smile. "Just being nice to people, Art. You should try it sometime."

Patrick laughed and nudged Art's shoulder. "Yeah, Art, maybe if you focused less on flirting with every guest and more on your job, you'd make some tips, too."

Art feigned shock. "Me? Flirting? I don't know what you're talking about." He turned to you with a charming grin. "Do you think I'm a flirt?"

You raised an eyebrow. "A little, but that's your thing, right? I mean, it's not like you're betting on who can get the most milfs phone numbers or anything." Clearly sarcastic.

Patrick shot Art a look, then quickly turned to you with a smile. "Yeah, nothing like that. We just... like to keep things interesting."

Art nodded, but you noticed a brief flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it made you wonder if there was more to their competition than met the eye.

"Well, whatever it is, just don't bring any drama into my section, okay?" you said, playfully tapping your notepad against Art's chest. "I've got enough to deal with without you two causing trouble."

Patrick raised his hands in mock surrender. "No drama, I promise. We'll be on our best behavior."

Art winked. "Scout's honor."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. Despite the teasing and the occasional competitive streak, you knew they meant well. It was just another summer at the country club, where the days were long, the sun was hot, and anything could happen.

Anything.

---

The Club had settled into its evening rhythm by the time you reached the bar. Fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting soft glimmers on the stone patio. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass. A live band played classic rock covers, the gentle strum of guitars mingling with the murmur of patrons relaxing after a day of golf and tennis.

Patrick was at a corner table, nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He looked up from his phone and waved you over, a broad smile lighting up his face. He'd changed out of his tennis instructor uniform into a casual blue polo and jeans, his hair still damp from a quick shower.

"Hey, there you are!" he said, using his foot to pull out a chair for you. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

You shook your head with a grin. "Please, I could hear your bad jokes all the way from the kitchen. Had to come and see what was so funny."

Patrick laughed, setting his phone aside. "You know I'm hilarious. You just pretend not to appreciate my sense of humor."

You took a seat and glanced around. The bar was lively but not overcrowded. A group of older couples was playing cards at a nearby table, and a few teenagers from the tennis program were playing darts in the corner. It felt like the perfect end to a busy day.

"So, what are we drinking tonight?" Patrick asked, gesturing to the menu. "I've got whiskey, but I hear the margaritas are pretty good."

You considered for a moment. "Let's go with the margaritas. I need something fruity after today."

Patrick flagged down the bartender, who quickly mixed up a pitcher of margaritas with a generous splash of tequila. He poured you a glass and handed it over with a mock bow. "Your drink, my liege. May it bring you all the fruitiness you desire."

You raised your glass with a chuckle. "Thank you, William,” you turn towards the brunet “To Patrick, who somehow managed not to break any tennis rackets today. It's a new record!"

Patrick clinked his whiskey against your glass. "And to you, for not spilling any drinks on Mrs. Anderson. She's still mad about last summer's 'mimosa incident.'"

You rolled your eyes, remembering the time you accidentally spilled a tray of drinks on Mrs. Anderson's white dress during a particularly hectic brunch. "Don't remind me. I had to run for cover like I was in a war zone. I thought she’d have my head.”

Patrick laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "You should've seen her face. It was like you'd ruined her entire day. But hey, at least you got to keep your job."

As the two of you shared stories and relived old memories, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the patio. The band transitioned to a slower song, adding a mellow vibe to the evening.

Art arrived a little later, his tennis gear replaced by a button-down snap back and jeans. He had a confident stride and a smile that seemed to draw attention wherever he went. He slid into the seat next to you, his presence bringing a shift in the energy at the table.

"What's up, party people?" he said, his voice smooth and inviting. "I hope you saved some margaritas for me."

Patrick handed him a glass. "Of course, wouldn't want our little Arty to feel left out.”  He added leaning into Art smirking. “What took you so long anyways,  Shelly needed some one-on-one time to work on her underhand? Or what. ”

You smirked. "You really think He’s that charming, huh?” she turns towards Art looking into his eyes “What’s your secret hmm? Is it the cologne?"

Art leaned in with a grin. "It's all about confidence. And maybe a little bit of cologne. But mostly confidence."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Right, because confidence is what you exude. You should've seen Art on the tennis court today. He was so confident he almost hit a kid with a tennis ball."

Art raised an eyebrow. "Almost. That's the key word. No harm, no foul."

The banter continued, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm. Art's charm contrasted with Patrick's laid-back, cheeky style, and you found yourself enjoying the playful back-and-forth.

As the evening progressed, you noticed Patrick watching Art with a hint of unease. It was subtle, like a flicker in his eyes whenever Art made you laugh a little too hard or leaned in a little too close.

---

"All right, we're here. Try not to break anything, okay? Last time you were here, my mom couldn't find her favorite vase for a week."

Art smirked, stepping inside. "That wasn't my fault! How was I supposed to know it was on top of the fridge? Who puts a vase on the fridge, anyway?"

Art dropped his bag in his Patrick’s room and looked around. The place had an eclectic charm—walls lined with tennis trophies, faded concert posters, and family photos. A stack of video games sat beside the TV.

Patrick led the way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. He tossed one to Art, who caught it with ease. "So, what are you in the mood for? I was thinking pizza, but we can order something else if you're not into it."

Art popped open the bear and took a sip. "Pizza sounds good. Just no anchovies, okay? That stuff is nasty."

Patrick laughed, opening his own soda. "You're missing out, man. Anchovies are a delicacy." He grabbed the phone and dialed the pizza place, ordering a large with pepperoni and sausage. "There, something a bit more your speed. Happy now?"

Art nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, that'll work. So, you ready for tomorrow? Two-on-two is serious business. We can't afford to slack off."

Patrick waved a hand dismissively. "Please, I'm always ready. Besides, we've got the advantage. I mean, have you seen the other teams? Half of them can't even hit a backhand."

Art chuckled. "You're so modest, Patrick. What would you do without me to keep you humble?"

Patrick shrugged with a grin. "Probably win more matches.”

Art threw a punch at Patrick's shoulder, and Patrick pretended to wince. They both laughed, the kind of easy camaraderie that came from years of friendship and shared jokes. But there was also a subtle tension in the air, like they were both aware of the unspoken rivalry that had been growing between them.

"So," Patrick said, leaning back against the kitchen island, biting his lip "you and […] seemed pretty chummy tonight. What's the story there? You trying to make a move, or what?" The familiar smirk making its way to his face.

Art raised an eyebrow, his expression guarded. "We're just talking. Nothing wrong with getting to know someone, right?" He finished wetting his lips.

Patrick smirked. "Sure, nothing wrong with that.” He shrugged.  “But you're not just getting to know her. You're flirting, and we both know it." He took a couple steps forward “Basically eye fucking her, to be honest” He only smiled.

Art shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Oh, come on Pat, maybe, She's just fun to be around, you know. No need to be gross." Art gave him a wry smile. "You know me. I just go with the flow. If she likes hanging out with me, who am I to complain?"

Patrick leaned in, lowering his voice. "Or maybe, you think she's interested in you. Is that what this is about? You think you've got a shot?" His eyes scanning arts face.

Art met his gaze, his expression calm but with a hint of challenge. "I don't know, man. Maybe I do. What does it matter to you huh? You think you've got the inside track because you've known her longer?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I mean, it doesn't hurt. We've got a lot of history. I'm charming, good-looking, and I've got the best jokes. What's not to like?" he goes back to lean on the counter. “Besides, I’ve seen the real her, all of it, kinda gives me a little advantage don’t you think.”

Art halts, stops chewing his gum, straitening himself up. “What’s that supposed to mean Patrick.”

“Exactly what it you think.” He kissed his teeth, kicking off the counter and going back to looking inside the fridge.

Art chuckled, but there was a hint of envy in his laugh. "Well, if you're so confident, maybe we should make it interesting. How about a little bet? See who can win her over first?"

Patrick waved his hand dismissively. "Little Arty wants a bet he’ll lose?” He chuckles. “No games. Just a simple bet. May the best man win."

Art held out his hand, and Patrick shook it with a grin. The bet was sealed, but there was an underlying seriousness in Art's eyes. As they waited for the pizza, the two friends continued their banter, but there was a new edge to their jokes—like the stakes had just gotten a little higher.

---

A week after their doubles match, the annual Oakridge Country Club gala was in full swing, the ballroom bustling with elegantly dressed members and guests. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting warm light onto the neatly set tables, while smooth jazz played in the background. You stood near the entrance, surveying the glamorous crowd, your fitted dress drawing approving glances from a few partygoers.

Art was the first to spot you, leaning against a wall with a cocktail in hand, chatting up club regulars. He was dressed in a sharp suit, but he carried himself with a boyish charm. His grin was wide as he motioned for you to come over, his eyes moving from your head to your heels in a way that felt like a visual undressing.

"Wow," he said, raising his glass, "you clean up nice. I was expecting you to show up in your waiter outfit or something. I'm glad you went with the dress, though. Much more... appealing."

You gave him a playful smirk, stepping up to the bar. "Thanks, Art. I do my best to impress." You glanced at his drink. "Are you trying to get a head start on the partying? We haven't even hit the dance floor yet."

He took a sip, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Hey, I like to loosen up a bit before the main event. Keeps things interesting. Besides, you can't blame a guy for wanting to enjoy himself, right? You gonna  help me enjoy my night and keep me company?"

Patrick, who was laughing with a group nearby, walked over just in time to catch Art’s comment. He gave Art a look of mild disapproval, then turned to you with a sly smile.

"Don't listen to him. He's just trying to get you alone so he can talk your ear off about his latest tennis game.” Patrick shrugged, looking at Art with a smirk. "So boring. I was thinking we could have some real fun; you know? A little adventure never hurt anyone." He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the music. "Besides, I know all the best spots around here. Private spots. You'd love it."

Art shook his head, clearly not amused. "Come on, Patrick. We're here to enjoy the gala, not to sneak off like we're in high school. Why don't we all just enjoy the party and see what happens?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Art. But if you change your mind,” he turn towards her. “You know where to find me. I'll be the one having a good time." He turned to you with a suggestive wink while walking backwards to god knows where.

Art rolled his eyes, then smiled at you in a more relaxed manner. "Sorry about him, he’s not really allowed to leave the house. He's a good guy, but he doesn't always know when to tone it down. If you want, I can keep him from getting too out of hand. I wouldn't want him to scare you off." He says mocking Patrick as he walked away.

You laugh full heartedly glancing at Patrick, who was already chatting with a couple of other guests, his flirtatious demeanor on full display. " Thanks so for watching out for me. It can get a little overwhelming with him around." You continued smiling.

Art nodded smiling, his expression kind. " I was thinking we could get some food, maybe hit the dance floor. What do you think?" Art suggested, leading the way. "I'm sure Patrick will join us once he's done charming the entire room."

Patrick shot Art a mischievous look but didn't follow immediately. You could tell he was reveling in the attention, his flirtatious behavior attracting more than a few curious glances from the other guests.

The band switched to a slow, romantic melody, and Art extended his hand to you with a charming smile. "Care to dance?" he asked, his eyes warm and inviting.

You nodded, accepting his offer, and he led you onto the dance floor. His touch was gentle yet confident as he pulled you close, swaying to the music with practiced ease.

As you danced with Art, you felt yourself relaxing into his embrace. His presence was comforting, his movements smooth and graceful. You couldn't help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling a somewhat new sense of closeness.

Halfway through the song, Patrick appeared out of nowhere, a cocky grin on his lips. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Before you could respond, he swept you away from Art, taking you into his arms with a boldness that made you some type of way. His touch was hot, his body pressed close to yours as he guided you across the dance floor.

"So, you replacing your best friend with that ginger?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive. "Boring you to tears yet?" He raised a brow.

You laughed, unable to resist his playfulness. "Hmm maybe. He's actually a great dancer, unlike some people."

Patrick smirked, pulling you even closer. "Yeah, but can he do this?" With a sudden flourish, he spun you around, his movements fluid and confident. "Do I need to remind you why I’m better.” He paused.

“How, I’m better.”

You chuckled rolling your eyes, enjoying the thrill of dancing with Patrick. He was unpredictable, to say the least, his smile contagious. But as much as you were drawn to him, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving Art behind.

Patrick reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering you one with a sly grin. "Care for a smoke?" he asked, lighting his own with practiced ease.

You just shook your head with hesitant smile. “I really shouldn’t, Pat. You know I’m trying to quit.”

He looks you up and down with a seductive look.  

“We’ve all got our guilty pleasures, darling.”

As the song came to an end, Patrick took your hand, leading you away from the dance floor and out onto the club’s private beach. The cool breeze off the ocean felt refreshing against your skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing.

You hesitated for a moment, then accepted the offer, taking the cigarette from him and inhaling deeply. The nicotine hit you like a rush of adrenaline, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.

"So, what do you think?" Patrick asked, his eyes searching yours. "Having fun yet?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of liberation wash over you. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for... you know, stealing me away." You added motioning to the cigarette.

Patrick grinned, leaning in closer. "Anytime, sweetheart. Just say the word, and I'll whisk you away to paradise."

You laughed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

Patrick decided to sit down in the sand, his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. You sat beside him, savoring the familiar scent of his cologne.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, then shot you a sidelong glance. "You know, I was just thinking about that first summer at tennis camp," he said, his voice low and playful. "I mean, it's where it all started, right? Just a couple of kids swinging rackets and making trouble."

You smiled at the memory. "Yeah, it's crazy to think about how much has changed since then. Who would've thought you'd actually make it big in tennis? Meanwhile, I could barely keep the ball on the court."

Patrick laughed, a warm, hearty sound that cut through the night air. "Yeah, well, I guess I had a little more motivation to stick with it. You were off climbing trees and playing in the woods, and I was stuck with a bunch of coaches yelling at me to hit harder."

"Hey," you replied with a smirk, "it's not like I was useless. I remember showing you all the best spots to hide when you wanted to skip practice."

Patrick nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I remember. You were the queen of avoiding responsibility. If it weren't for you, I'd probably have become a strait-laced tennis prodigy. Instead, you dragged me into the wilderness to make forts and find weird bugs."

You both chuckled, reminiscing about those lazy summer days when tennis camp was more of a suggestion than a requirement. But then Patrick's expression turned sly, and he leaned in a bit closer.

"Speaking of weird things from our past," he said, his voice dripping with playful insinuation, he nudged you. "You remember that bet we made? The one about if we were both green by the time you turned 16, we'd, you know, be each other's first?"

Your face grew warm at the memory. It had been a silly bet between two best friends who figured they'd never find anyone else in their small circle. But the fact that you followed through with it made it more than just a joke.

"Yeah," you replied, pretending to be nonchalant, "I remember, Pat we’re not that old. It was a dumb bet, but I guess we kept our word, didn't we?"

Patrick nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his lips. "We sure did. And you know, I wasn't expecting it to be so... memorable. I thought we'd just laugh about it later, but it was kind of nice. You know, like a rite of passage or something."

You laughed, trying to deflect his innuendo. "A rite of passage? Yeah, right. More like a hilarious disaster. I mean, you had no idea what you were doing."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, his grin growing wider. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. Besides, you were just as clueless. At least I managed to keep my cool, mostly."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile at his cockiness. "Mostly, huh? If I remember correctly, you tripped over your own shoes and nearly fell face first."

Patrick groaned, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Okay, maybe I was a little clumsy. But you have to admit, it was an experience neither of us will forget. And hey, we did it together. That's gotta count for something, right?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of nostalgia and fondness. "Yeah, it does. I'm just glad it didn't ruin our friendship. It could've been awkward, but it wasn't."

Patrick leaned in, his gaze locking with yours. "Of course it wasn't. We were best friends. We still are. And besides, even if it was a bit awkward, it was worth it. You know, just to say we did it." He flicked the ash from his cigarette, then added with a wink, "And hey, I was your first. That's something not everyone can say."

You laughed, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head. You still have a long way to go before you become a pro. But if you need any advice on how to avoid tripping over your own shoes, I'm here for you."

Patrick grinned, taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the sand. " If you ever want to make another bet, I'm always up for it. " He Looks at you seductively, his eyes full of mischief. " I think if you were to give me another chance, you’d find that I’ve improved quite a bit. " He gives you his signature smirk.

You scan his face trying to find sincerity in his words, not sure how you’d feel if he was. “What are you trying to get at Patrick?”

“Nothing at all.” He raised his hands in a surrender, cigarette in mouth looking away. “I’m just saying, I feel like I deserve a redemption arc,” He takes his cigarette putting out in the sand. “I wasn’t the most…giving you can say.” He looks back at you, under his brows. “And I just want to show you that I’ve changed, for the better.” He offers a smile.

You just nod your head in fake agreement. “Uhh, how much have you had to drink tonight pat?  Is it time to call you a cab?” You questioned with a week smile.  

“Oh, shut up, I’m dead sober.”  He said leaning in.  He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Besides, what's life without a little adventure?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. It was a simple gesture, but there was something in the way he did it that made your heart skip a beat. Patrick had always had a way of pushing boundaries, but tonight, he seemed more deliberate, more intent.

"Adventure?" you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Are you planning something?"

Patrick's smile grew, his eyes locking with yours. "Maybe. But you know me—always full of surprises." He stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your waist. "But I promise, it'll be a good one."

You felt a rush of heat at his touch, the closeness between you stirring something deep within. Patrick leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. "So, do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "No I don’t, Patrick, because I know you. Why? What are you up to?"

Patrick's gaze grew more intense, his eyes fixed on yours. "I just wanted to try something." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss deepened, the heat between you building as Patrick pulled you closer. His hand slid around your waist, holding you firmly as he kissed you with a newfound intensity. The sound of the waves seemed to fade away, replaced by the pounding of your own heart.

Patrick's other hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet assertive. His kiss was slow and deliberate, each movement a carefully orchestrated dance that left you breathless. As his lips moved against yours, you felt a rush of desire, a connection that seemed to transcend words.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion. He looked at you, his lips slightly parted, as if he was trying to read your thoughts.

“Show me.” You said looking him deep in his eyes barley a millimetre away from his lips.

“Show you what darling?” He question with a smile gracing his lips

“How you’re better than Art.”

That’s not what he was expecting at all. Maybe a ‘show me how you’ve improved.’ But certainly not you using his own words against him, That’s for sure.

That didn’t stop Patrick's smile from getting bigger though, as he moved his hands all over you, bringing you in for another wet and sloppy kiss. He slowly laid you down into the sand using his teeth to slide up your dress around your waits.

He slowly kissed your stomach stopping at the hem of your thong. Moving it to the side, he slides one of his digits up and down your slit.

Looking up to you with a sly smile, he lets out a contented sigh. " Give me some of this sweet pussy." With the excited flattening of his tongue, he dives right in, right there, on the beach. Before you even having a chance to fully lay down, Patrick slides his arms beneath your legs and pulls you in. 

As you begin to grind into him and yearn for more of his tongue, you play with one of your tits. Suddenly too shy to look him in the eye, you reach down and tug on his hair. You can feel your cheeks getting hot with shame at how quickly you folded for him.   “Tongue fuck me, please, Pat. When did you get so good at this?”

 he consumes you. his hands are playing with your ass and thighs. He kneads the skin and spreading you out. He trust his tongue into your entrance and explores your pussy.  Less than a minute later, your walls start to twitch around his tongue. He takes in all your cum. When he looks up back at you, he just gives you a sly smirk. 

Patrick rolled onto his back beside you, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of what just happened. You try to get your breathing back to normal when suddenly you let out a random laugh.

Patrick turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, but his face still wet from your essence.

You shrugged, trying to stifle your laughter. "I don't know, it just hit me—how did we end up here? One minute we're at the gala, and the next we're... well, doing this." You gestured at the beach, and your unruly appearance.

Patrick grinned, rolling onto his side to face you. "Maybe it's fate," he said, his voice soft and playful. "Or maybe it's just because I couldn't resist pulling you away for a little... private time." He winked, his cheeky grin only growing wider.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest. "Or maybe it’s because you and Art have a weird little bet going on, and for some reason, I’m in the middle of it." you replied, a teasing edge to your tone.

Patrick frowns sitting up to look at you properly. " You know about that?" He’s confused.

You let out a chuckle. "Patrick, I’m not a dumbass, like i said, i know you. And i know Art, you guys have been total try hards for the last week, sure, you’re just a whore and will flirt with anything that has a vagina, but even Art was over doing it." You swatted at his shoulder, trying to hide your smile. "Patrick, seriously," you said, though your tone lacked any real reprimand. "You always push your luck, you know that?  You leaned in a little closer, your eyes locking with his.

Patrick's grin softened, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Yeah, well, sometimes you need a little excitement," he replied, his hand resting on your hip, a gentle reminder of his presence. "And you can't deny that you like it when I take charge. Right?" His fingers traced a light pattern along your hipbone, his touch both playful and suggestive.

You sighed, the subtle tension between you becoming more palpable. "Maybe," you replied, your voice low and teasing. "But don't think I'll always let you get away with it. Sometimes, you need to earn it."

Patrick laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to carry on the breeze. "Oh, don't worry," he said, his eyes narrowing with that familiar mischievous look. "I'll work for it. You just let me know when you want me to turn on the charm." He leaned in again, his lips hovering near yours, the warmth of his breath a tantalizing invitation.

You closed the gap, letting his lips meet yours in a brief, soft kiss. It was playful but laced with an underlying intensity, a promise of more to come. When you pulled back, you saw the surprise in his eyes, followed by that trademark grin.

"Consider it a preview," you said, giving him a gentle nudge. "But don't get too cocky, or I’ll make sure you lose this bet."

------------------------

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[thegirlamongthestars]

what would you do? - c. alcaraz

author's note: it is not my first time writing smut but it's been a long time since I've done it. So sorry for any mistakes or bad wording.

summary: Carlos faces his female nemesis, who happens to be a WTA player, in a brutally honest and steamy training session

wc: 2,7k

warnings: +18 content, smut, fingering, protected sex (play safe! put it on!), riding, filthy as fuck

Roland Garros 2023

It all began with a seemingly routine press conference, and honestly, I thought nothing of it. I was still riding the high from my last match, feeling confident and ready. Adriana was next up, and I’d heard she was having a stellar tournament so far. So when she walked into the room, I was just another player waiting for my turn at the podium.

The press conference kicked off, and the questions were flying fast. Adriana started speaking about her training regimen, the hard work she’d put in. Then, I remember that time we shared space at the gym for a strength routine. I couldn’t keep my thoughts out about how she looked that day. Her concentration making her look exquisite and the way the sweat was shining on every inch of her soft-looking skin. Due to the memories and quite out of nowhere, I made a strange noise—like a half-chuckle, half-clearing-my-throat kind of sound. It wasn’t intentional but it came out as a reaction to my memories of her and as an attempt to calm myself. The image had been stuck in my mind, and I guess it just slipped out.

But what I hadn’t realized was how it came across. Adriana’s head snapped toward me, her eyes flashing with irritation. The room went quiet, all eyes on us. I felt the heat rise in my face. I hadn’t meant to insult her, not in the slightest. It was just a stupid, misplaced reaction.

The media seized on it, turning it into a headline: Carlos Alcaraz mocks Adriana’s training. Suddenly, a harmless moment was spun into a full-blown feud. Adriana began avoiding me, keeping her distance, and every interaction felt charged with tension. What had been a simple comment turned into something far more complicated, and no matter how many times I tried to smooth things over, it only seemed to make matters worse.

I couldn’t figure out why it bothered me so much. It wasn’t just the rivalry—it was the fact that something so small had escalated into this ongoing, uncomfortable dynamic.

Roland Garros 2024

Here I was again, one year later. The grounds were buzzing with the usual excitement. My game was sharp, my confidence high, but today felt about more than just a practice. When I saw Adriana around the venue, I quickly made up my mind about confronting her. We really needed to sort out the ridiculous misunderstanding that led us to this “enemies” dynamic. I hated having that type of reaction on her. I really hated it, well except when she pierced me with those fierce green eyes. At those times, I couldn’t help but feel like a teenager with crazy hormones.

I arrived at the court for the private training session, and she was already there. Doing some rallies with her coach. Her hair, surprisingly, was down displaying her light brown strands. It looked so soft it made want to grab it.

Five seconds on her presence and I was already this worked up, I really needed to start focusing.

I called my team over, keeping my voice low so she wouldn’t hear. “You guys head out. I’ve got this.”

They looked at me, confused, but didn’t argue. They knew better. One by one, they packed up and left, leaving me alone on the court. I watched her as they disappeared, and just like I expected, she glanced over.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what was happening.

To my surprise, she didn’t hesitate. With a quick head movement to her own team, she motioned for them to leave as well. They looked just as confused as mine had, but they didn’t ask questions. When they were gone, it was just the two of us.

The tension and the heat travelling through my body was immediate.

She picked up her racket, gave me a smirk, and walked to the baseline of my court. “So, what’s this about, Carlitos? Are you here to teach how to train properly?”

Her tone was playful, but I could feel the heat behind it. We weren’t kids anymore. Whatever had been brewing between us back then? It wasn’t going away. If anything, it was stronger now. More dangerous.

I shrugged, coming with an answer to match her question. “I’m sure I could teach you a few things”

The court suddenly felt much larger with just the two of us. The quiet settled around us, and I could feel my pulse pick up. It was like the air between us shifted. Heavier.

We kept rallying, the sound of the ball filling the silence, but it was different now. Every glance, every movement, had weight to it. I could see the way her breath quickened after each shot, the way she’d pause just a second longer before serving, as if she was aware of me watching her every move.

And damn it, I was.

Her ball, that I could have easily returned, turned into a point on her favor. She noticed that I was distracted and by the look she gave me, I knew she knew my reasons.

She stepped closer to the net after her shot, and I did the same, barely noticing how the ball stopped bouncing, the match forgotten. We were both breathing heavier now, but it wasn’t from the workout. I could feel her presence, feel the heat rolling off her, and suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about tennis at all.

“Distracted?” she put her hands on the hem of the net, getting closer to me and leaving her cleavage straight to my eyesight.

I was trying very hard to control the impulse of throwing myself all over her so I just shared the truth “Pretty much”.

“What if we play a game?” the mischief in her eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

This girl was dangerous. But this was the danger I liked. So if she was going to be shameless, then this was a game for two. I nodded and she began to explain.

“We are going to start a rally and at every point you win, you get to ask me a question; and vice versa”

“Okay, nic-“ she cut me off.

“But if you don’t want to answer to the question you have to take off a piece of clothing” her gaze expectant to my reaction. “Not the shoes, though. I don’t want you to break and ankle”

I started walking backwards, with my arms spreading, inciting her. “Bring it on, Adriana”

The first serve flew across the net, sharp and fast, landing just inside the baseline. Adriana’s return was quick and powerful. I sent a strong forehand cross-court, watching her sprint to catch it. She was good. Too good. But there was a flicker in her movements, the smallest hesitation when I moved up to the net, her eyes locking on mine for just a second too long. That was all I needed.

She missed the ball, and it sailed past her, bouncing off the back fence.

“One down,” I said, my voice low but teasing. “Do you really hate me?”

She laughed and lifted her t-shirt to dry her forehead, leaving her belly on display “No”

“Then why d-“ she left my words hanging again.

“Ah-ah, that’s not how it works Alcaraz” her head moving side to side cheekily. “Be brighter next time”

The next point was fast, both of us hitting with more force than necessary, trying to keep the upper hand. But this time, I lost focus, my mind more on her than on the game. She took advantage of it, hitting a perfect shot down the line that I couldn’t reach in time.

Her turn.

“Have you ever taken some of your personal time to watch a game of mine?”

She knew what she was doing. She already knew the physical effect she had in me and now she was trying to find out if I kept her on my mind.

She walked to the net, stopping just inches from me. “Well? What’s it going to be? Are you going to answer the question or…?”

I gave me her a slow, deliberate look, then—without a word—reached for the bottom of my shirt and tugged it over my head. My well-formed abdominals instantly showing and tan looking better under the sun rays. I saw how her breath caught for a second.

“That’s enough for you?” I asked, my voice smooth.

She swallowed, trying to keep her cool. “For now.”

I lost the next point, a backhand going wide.

I saw her leaving her racket on the bench and the way her hips swung while walking towards the net, had me hypnotized. She moved her finger on a “come here” motion and I did.

 “Are you brave enough to take off my t-shirt?”

This woman was going to be the end of me. At this point, I was not taking care of controlling my hormones and that was starting to note under my pants. I didn’t know how I would react the moment my fingers touched her skin, but my desire made me get closer to her immediately.

Her gaze was on mine all the time and at the moment I traced her waist with my fingertips, she bit her lower lip. I couldn’t help but release a lust filled pant. I raised the fabric until it was resting on top of her breasts, and I let my hands there for a moment, holding the sides of her rib cage. I looked down and it was undoubtedly the worst idea I’ve had in my life. Ironic, considering that I was having the greatest sight I’ve ever seen.

At that moment, something snapped in my head and all I could think was “fuck it”.

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

“That’s not fair” she put her hands at the nape of my hair, leaving us mere inches apart “It’s not your turn”

I could sense that she was saying that just to control herself so when I saw her licking her lips, I didn’t think about it twice. I leaned in; one arm on the net, the other enclosing her waist, pulling her even closer.

The moment our lips met, electricity shot through me, white-hot and consuming. Her lips were soft, but the kiss was anything but gentle. It was fierce, hungry—like we’d been holding this in for far too long.

Her hands found their way to my chest, nails scratching my pectorals. I couldn’t help but press my bulge to her hips and she left a moan on my mouth. I could feel her heat more than ever. The taste of her, the way her tongue moved against mine—it was intoxicating, better than I’d ever imagined.

And I had imagined it. More times than I cared to admit.

I needed more—more of her. The net between us was the only thing keeping us apart so with one swift motion, I gripped her firmly, lifting her off the ground without breaking the kiss.

Her body reacted immediately. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling herself tighter against me, her arms circling around my neck. At this position, she could feel me directly on her core so she didn’t wait much until she started grinding against me.

While we were still kissing, I started to walk us to one of the facilities built, for leaving our personal belongings, right next to the courts. During the way, Adriana moved her lips from my mouth to my neck and I almost tripped with my own feet. Her tongue followed her lips and she soon started giving small bites until she reached my ear lobe.

“You’re aggravating” she whispered looking into my eyes when we sat on the bench where I left my stuff.

“And why is that, honey?” now I was the one taking good care of her neck. I found a sweet spot of hers right under her chin and I had her moaning again.

“That day when you laughed at me�� she was barely able to form sentences right now. “Y-you…”

“I didn’t laugh at you” my hand started trailing down her belly until it was placed on the hem of her skirt, my fingers surpassing the elastic but stopping there. “Do you wanna know what actually happened?”

“Y-yes but don’t stop”

Her neediness steered the fire within me even more and I complied her wishes. I kept my trail down, until I reached her wetness. I bit her jaw in response of knowing how much she desired me. With my fingers coated in her, I went up again and once I found her clit I started tortuously slow strokes over it.

“When you started talking about your gym routine all I could think about was how good your butt looked on those leggings you were wearing the time we trained together” I kept my ministrations, but I slowly entered her with two of my fingers turning her into a moaning mess. “About how badly I wanted to fuck you right there and then”

Her only response was arching her back leaving her breasts right at the height of my mouth. I started to give sloppy kisses and bites to the flesh that was sticking out the sport bra. The sounds she was making were sending me to another dimension and my dick was throbbing so hard that I was afraid she could feel it.

“I want you to fuck me here and now” she paraphrased my previous words.

I could feel my heart racing in my throat, my voice hoarse and needy “At your commands, reina”

With our lips and tongues having a full battle into a kiss, I reached my backpack. Right now, I was thanking that friend of mine that told me to always carry a condom on my wallet. When she saw what I had in hand she took it. Now she was the one slipping her hand through the waistband of his pants. When she palmed me over my underwear, I had to focus hardly on not cuming. She freed me and despite I was hard as a rock she gave me two strokes before putting on the condom.

“I knew you were big” she shamelessly said before licking my lower and upper lip. “Those white shorts are quite revealing”

I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I pushed the skirt and panties aside. She noticed I was on the edge, so she grabbed me and introduced it in herself. When she sat down completely, we both let out a satisfied grunt. Immediately, we reach for each other’s lips. There was something wild about the kiss we were having and we both felt it. The way we were sucking and biting each other's lips relentlessly and the way she was moving above me. Our skin rubbing together hard and the sound of us colliding making us both moan uncontrollably.

I then grabbed her tightly by the flesh of her hips, the movements double in speed and when my member reached the exact point inside her, I could see how her eyes rolling back. The pitiful sound out of her lips confirmed it to me and I started hitting the spot relentlessly. My stamina allowing me to increase the rhythm and depth even more, making us lose our minds.

“Touch yourself” I commanded her, and her dutifulness drove me dangerously near to the orgasm.

After a few more minutes of giving everything in us to please the other, we combusted into each other’s bodies trying to extend as much as possible the pleasure wave we were in. When our breathing pace slowed down, I grabbed her chin to make her look into my eyes and then we melted into a soft and delicate kiss.

“So, we can call it a truce?” I teased her when she snuggled up against my chest and I managed to get the sweetest laugh out of her lips.  

“Don't tempt fate, Carlitos”    

[reignpage]

Basketball captain!Toji

10th april: catharsis

warning: 18+ mdni, blowjob, face fucking, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, nipple pinching, passing out, unprotected sex, not proofread

basketball captain!toji has you at your wits’ end. it’s been three weeks since he last fucked you and you couldn’t possibly take more. you’re losing sleep, you’ve got huge circles under your eyes and hearing your friends talk about their recent sexcapades has you twitching like a madwoman. 

so you decide enough is enough. 

especially because playoffs are tomorrow and if you don’t do something about this drought he’s forced upon you now, you fear you’ll actually die of dehydration before the team gets to the court. 

basketball captain!toji is at home and his roommate is off terrorising children no doubt. now is the perfect time to strike. you’re going all out and pulling out the big guns. letting yourself into their apartment once more, you surveil the area. the tv’s running, playing one of the games in which they lost, and your boyfriend’s in the kitchen cooking dinner. 

tiptoeing like your life depends on it, you sneak up right behind him and tackle him into a bear hug (as close to one as you can considering his enormous size). he doesn’t even glance back at you. the bastard knew the entire time you’re here. 

“hey ma, hungry?”

running a hand up his shirtless back, you admire his muscles. all the training and gym sessions has made him even bigger and tougher-looking. god, his back muscles are ripping with every move and every breath, tensing and softening with your touch. 

“toji,” you whisper against his skin, “i miss you.”

he huffs a laugh and turns to wrap a heavy arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side with a kiss to your head. “’m right here, ma.”

basketball captain!toji is being uncharacteristically sweet. you hate it. he’s softening you up, distracting you with his boyish grin and teasing kisses to your hair. but you must stand your ground. you’ve got a game plan. 

with a warning bite to his bicep, you fall to the floor with grace and yank down his joggers with much less grace. your jaw drops. he’s hard, fully hard, the tip an angry red leaking so much pre you almost thought he came already. basketball captain!toji isn’t even wearing boxers. 

that bastard. 

you look up at his face, feeling irritated by the rise of his brow, as if faking a look of shock. 

“you ain’t gonna buy me dinner first, baby?”

maybe it’s the shit-eating grin basketball captain!toji has or maybe it’s the mocking tone of his voice, but whatever it is, it has you gripping the base of his throbbing cock with much more force than he expects. he stiffens. 

you don’t waste time; you open wide and take as much of him as you can. he tastes slightly salty and musky, like hard work and late nights. it’s been too long and your jaw has gotten too comfortable in the interval. you wince at the stretch and feel a prick of fear at how your pussy’s gonna fare when he’s plowing between your legs without mercy. 

god, you’re soaked at just the thought of it. 

basketball captain!toji fists your hair and thrusts into the back of your throat without warning, feeling empowered by your gargles. he doesn’t have rhythm, he’s just thrusting as he please, and you know you have him. 

motherfucker wants this more than you do. 

“ha, this what you wanted for dinner?”

you roll your eyes at the same time as you roll your tongue over his slit, rejoicing in the hiss you pull out of him. he narrows his eyes at you and pulls you off, lifting your head up slightly by the makeshift ponytail he’s made.

“don’t sass me, ma. i was gonna fuck you nice and slow but you changed my mind.”

both of you know damn well he’s lying through his teeth but before you can voice that, he’s spinning you around and pinning your face to the cold marble surface. he’s lifted your skirt up, flicking it over and he pauses at the sight that beholds him. 

you’re wearing a thong with his name on it.

smiling, you shake your hips like a temptress, egging him on, daring him to say and do something.

basketball captain!toji is palming your ass, his thumb rubbing the flimsy string between your cheeks. you can’t see what face he’s making but that just makes you wetter. 

is he impressed? is he mad? or both? neither?

you yelp. he’s slapped your ass and the sting is gonna leave a mark. 

“you got this for me, ma? ha, you missed me that much?”

the pulsing between your legs, the wetness running down your thighs, his monstrous grip groping and pinching all over, it was making you delirious. you laugh, a cackle that escapes you and doesn’t register in your head. 

then he’s pushing aside your thong and sheathing himself in one thrust. you both moan. oh, it’s so good. the burn’s making you drool, the way his head’s rubbing against that spongy part inside of you again and again and again. it’s all too much. 

basketball captain!toji has one hand holding your hips and dragging you back and forth on his unbelievable length whilst the other is holding your tit captive. he’s twisting your nipple and sucking your neck, leaving a wet trail of apologies to your ear. 

“ha, was mean, wasn’t i? sorry baby, shit!”

you aren’t even listening, too focused on that pleasurable ache between your legs as he pummels your poor pussy like you’re just a wet hole. twisting your neck, you meet his lips in a clash of tongue and teeth. it’s messy and chaotic but it makes you clench down on him. 

“fuck!” he spanks your ass, eliciting a whine from you. “gonna -ngh- milk me too early, ma.”

basketball captain!toji speeds up his thrusts, rubbing your clit with a ferocity that steals your breath, all while hitting that same spot inside of your wet tunnel.  over and over again. 

you have no idea how long it’s been, maybe thirty minutes, three hours or mere seconds. time escapes you, so caught up in what you’ve been chasing for weeks, you don’t want to miss a single second on this rapture. 

you’re climbing higher and higher, voice pitching and moans so broken you probably sound demonic. his hands are so big, pressing warmth into your skin whilst his sweaty skin blankets your back, the weight so reassuring, so heavenly you hope he never leaves. 

“right there, yes! pleasepleasepleaseplease!” 

the tsunami of euphoria that washes over you, erasing all of your frustrations and grievances against the man, makes you black out. for a solid minute you lose your bearings, grappling for a tether as your legs shake. he’s still fucking you through it, groaning in your ear from the repeated clenches you’re making on his cock. 

“glad you’re here ma, wanted to empty my — shiiiiiit — balls before the game. such a good girl, helping me out.”

when you come to, it takes you a second to realise he hasn’t cum yet, just making shallow thrusts whilst he…

basketball captain!toji is eating his dinner whilst still inside of you, ignoring the way you’re genuinely spasming, tongue-tied from the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had, courtesy of his three weeks long tortuous experiment. 

basketball captain!toji notices your disbelieving glare and flashes you a wolfish grin, his scar stretching in an annoyingly delectable way. 

“want some?”

[demeterdefence]

even ignoring everything else wrong with lore olympus (which in itself feels impossible) there is just something really egregious and insulting at the way a "modern retelling" over an ancient greek myth just full-heartedly whitewashes the entire culture and mythos.

and it's not like rachel is the first to do it - greek myths and legends have been whitewashed for centuries, depictions of the gods have been categorically stripped of their ethnicity and origins long before rachel got a hold of them. it's the fact that rachel goes out of her way to insult the original myths whenever she can, that she emphasizes and pushes a western-centric mindset and viewpoint over and over and over and not only reinforces the whitewashing, but continues it down the line.

like, this is the first episode.

rachel goes out of her way to mock the original styles and wardrobes of the ancient greek world, and i get her attempt was to make persephone feel "out of place" with the more "modern" clothing that the other gods wear, but it really just does more to a) demonize demeter, who is almost always in traditional clothing, b) sexualize persephone.

go even broader with it, move away from the clothing itself, and rachel doesn't even bother to use any of the ancient traditions that are core to the myths. like for the love of god, she uses a christian wedding for persephone and hades!

greece is the birthplace of modern democracy and had a powerful judicial system, and rachel instead uses the modern / western iteration of court because ... why not

(completely unrelated but the inserts of everyone except eros and aphrodite come from the stupid zoom session zeus had back when he first charged persephone with treason, meaning we have proof yet again that rachel isn't drawing the characters into the scene, she's making pngs and sticking them into pre-arranged backgrounds downloaded from stock images)

and there are ten thousand more examples i could pull, because this is just the whole entire comic. you can look at a lot of modern adaptions and see where things have been modernized respectfully, and where they are done with disdain for the source material - no one is claiming percy jackson, for example, is perfect, but the author took a great deal of care in his research, and the love for the original myths and culture shine through. lore olympus has zero respect for the original stories, exemplified in how rachel demonizes demeter - the actual crux of the myth. it's bad writing and bad research and further attempts to whitewash a rich and storied culture that had people from so many walks of life, who existed in full spectrum of lgbt identity, who did not conform or even know of the world that exists today. you can modernize without erasing it, and rachel's refusal to do so is one of the many issues tacked to lore olympus.

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 3.

~Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Tiny bit of angst and sadness. Light injury (nothing too bad)

“Why is it whenever you come to my door you’re always dressed so strangely?”

Azriel has had four blissfully peaceful days since the training session with Y/N . He knew she would turn up again at some point, having promised she’d come back and make him try something new.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly looking forward to spending time with Y/N again, he just assumed it was due to the fact that life in the Day Court for him was awfully dull. At least he now knew where the training grounds were and found most of his time was now spent there. Still just himself for company, he had now adopted his regular pre-sabbatical training routine and he had even been on a few late night flights, the need to stretch his wings too much to deny.

Azriel would also be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting on Y/N’s arrival at his flat once more. A shadow constantly waiting by his front door, even when he was out of his flat, to ensure that he would always know when she was waiting outside to meet him.

That’s what lead him to where he was now.

He had been outside, busy at the training ground and focussed on practicing a very difficult drill with his daggers, when the small wisp of one of his shadows came flying into the arena causing him to immediately stop what he was doing.

‘She’s here’ it told him ‘she’s waiting for you’.

At once Azriel sheathed his daggers and took off flying. Speeding towards the direction of his flat. Not wanting Y/N to know he had left a shadow at the door, purely with the intention of alerting him of her presence, Azriel squeezed himself through his open window. A window which definitely had not been built with the intention of a large Illyrian male squeezing through it but Azriel would rather suffer through the embarrassment of having to contort his body and drag himself through, rather than be faced with Y/N’s teasing grin at the fact he had been expecting her and rushed back to greet her.

After managing to crawl through his window, landing on the floor with a bang he prayed she didn’t hear, Azriel rushed to the door hoping Y/N was still there and hadn’t left having waited too long for a response.

Taking in a deep breath to try and return his breathing to normal, Azriel opened the door. He was met yet again with Y/N standing there, grin on your face, in another totally ridiculous outfit.

“What do you mean strange?” Y/N whined dramatically, hand placed over her heart as if his words hurt. Of course this wasn’t the case as the smile on her face had transformed into a smirk, clearly she was expecting him to say that, “Clearly you’ve never seen Day Court riding attire before.”

“Riding?! Like horses?!”

“No Azriel, riding like dragons, yes of course we’re riding horses!”

Azriel was now sure Rhysand had sent Y/N to torture him as punishment for what he did. He had never been on a horse and had absolutely no no intention of ever being on one. The small trace of excitement he had at the prospect of Y/N returning to his flat with a new hobby for him to try had completely left his mind. Azriel now in a mood and frankly he was slightly scared by the prospect of him on a horse.

“What a shame, I actually have plans for today” he shrugged mock-sympathetic look on his face as he attempted to pull his door to before Y/N could convince him otherwise. Something he was certain she would be able to do with little more than a smile.

“Hold on batboy,” Y/N chuckled, hand reaching out to grab the door before he could close it, “I did something you like, you’re going to do something I like. Deals the deal.”

“We didn’t make a deal” Azriel tried to reason, eyes focussed down the hallway of the flat so to avoid looking into her wide, begging ones that were no doubt staring at him.

“Yes we did”

“No we didn’t”

“Yes we- oh for mother’s sake Azriel! I thought you Illyrians were meant to be honest males!”

At this Azriel couldn’t help but release a barking laugh, “Sweetheart I don’t know what you think you know about Illyrians but that is most definitely wrong.”

“Oh well just…please Azriel,” as she said this Y/N softly moved one of her hands to rest on Azriel’s arm that was holding onto the door, “it would mean a lot to me.”

Azriel’s gaze flickered to where her hand rested on him, jaw clenching as his felt his control slip.

“Isn’t there something else you want to do?”

There wasn’t. Azriel had given in and now he found himself face to face with an overly skittish horse, clearly not a fan of his large wings. Y/N was already up on her horse, beaming down at Azriel as she waited patiently for him to mount.

Tentatively, he took a step towards the horse Y/N had selected for him to ride, pulling his wings in hoping that it would be less intimidating, the animal immediately shuffled backwards nervously.

“Y/N I don’t think this is a good idea” Azriel said turning towards the woman who was clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Giggling, she hopped off of her horse before walking over to Azriel and grabbing his hand. Not expecting this, Azriel flinched and yanked his hand away from her grip turning his head away from her, not wanting to see her disgust as she took in the mangled state of his hands.

“What are you doing?” He tried to snap at her but the words came out more unsure and shaky.

“Azriel”, Y/N spoke, drawing his eyes back to her kind face, “it’s ok, look.” With that Y/N took his hand again, her hold light as if giving him the chance to pull away again if he wanted to. Trusting her, Azriel exhaled and watched as she brought his scarred hand to his horses side moving it up and down in a gentle stroke, action calming the anxious mare.

Y/N’s hand lingered over his for a while, caught in the moment before she pulled away. Slow enough that Azriel was reassured it was not because of the marred skin of his hands. The back of his hand still tingling from where she had touched him.

“See?” She spoke softly, eyes slightly glazed. Azriel could have sworn he saw her shake her head a little, bringing herself back from wherever her mind had wandered to, before she took a step back away from his body, creating distance between them.

“Do you need help getting on?”

Neglecting a verbal response, Azriel shook his head, hand still pressed to the side of the horse where she had placed it. He knew the logistics over getting on a horse he had just never tried to before. Awkwardly, he placed his foot in the stirrup before pushing himself up and bringing his other leg over so he was sat on the horse. He made sure to lift his wings and spread them out a little to avoid them touching the horses back in fear their unfamiliar presence may cause him to get bucked off.

Azriel was sure of two things. One, he looked like an absolute idiot on this horse and if Cassian could see him now he would never let Azriel live it down. And two, Y/N was enjoying his struggle and obvious distaste for animals a little too much.

As they plodded along a dirt path outside of the city, Azriel kept a miserable eye on Y/N who wasn’t afraid to let out a loud cackle every time he showed any sign of stiffness or discomfort.

“Hanging in all right bat boy?” She grinned as Azriel released a groan, no one ever told him how much riding a horse hurt your backside.

“Is this supposed to be enjoyable? This can’t actually be your hobby” he mumbled, shifting on the back of his horse to try and find some semblance of comfort for his rear.

“It’s not,” Y/N replied, “never actually been on a horse before either, I had to beg Helion to let me borrow these from his stable.”

Her comment made Azriel pull on the reins tightly until his horse came to a stop, Y/N still moving on ahead, “What do you mean you’ve never been on a horse? The whole reason I’m here is because you said we were going to do something you like!”

“Hm no I don’t recall saying that” Y/N turned her head over her shoulder, flashing Azriel a cheeky grin before facing forward once more. He huffed and did his best to get his horse moving again, this taking a few attempts, riding along until he was side by side with Y/N.

“So why are we doing this instead of dress shopping or gossiping over some tea?”

Y/N gasped playfully, “Dear me Azriel, you can’t truly believe my hobbies would be something as mundane as shopping or talking. I never took you for a gossip though, that’s good to know”

“Well you seem to do too much of that” Huffed Azriel under his breath.

“Besides, consider this payback”

“Payback?”

“For training the other day, can’t think I’m going to let you flip me onto the floor and get away with it”

And with that Y/N pulled off into a gallop down the dirt track, flying away from Azriel, her laugh hanging in the air, his heart fluttering at the sound. Competitive spirit stirring, and a weird need to impress Y/N, Azriel urged his horse to move faster in an attempt to outrace Y/N who already had a very large head start.

This wasn’t Azriel’s smartest idea as it wasn’t long before he felt the reins slip from his grasp and the next thing he knew he was falling off the back of his horse with a startled yelp. His body and wings scraping against the ground as he made contact, rolling to a stop, horse running off into the distance.

Groaning, Azriel just laid there, hands on his face in exasperation. The sound of hooves coming closer forced him to sit up, watching a panicked Y/N canter towards him, his horse in tow. She hopped off her own, worry evident in her face, and ran to Azriel.

“Cauldron are you ok?!!” She dropped to her knees, grabbing his face in the palm of her hands and scanning him over for injuries. Azriel brushed her off of him, embarrassed at the events that had transpired.

“If this is your idea of payback it definitely worked, think I ended up a lot worse off than you did though”

Y/N broke out into laughter, a sound so sweet and inviting that Azriel couldn’t help but join along. The two of them sat on the ground, dirt on their clothes, laughing hysterically until tears filled their eyes and they couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Let’s do something a little less high risk next time yeah?” Azriel says when his breath returns to normal, his smile had gone, it left with the last laugh that had escaped his mouth, but his cheeks still sweetly stung from the memory of it all the same.

“You mean you still want to keep hanging out with me?” Y/N was joking, but Azriel could still see the trace of insecurity in her eyes that she had blown her shot, that Azriel wouldn’t want to see her anymore after forcing him along on this disastrous trip. He wanted to comfort her, take her hand and tell her that he wasn’t going anywhere. But it was Azriel’s rogue emotions that brought him to this court in the first place and he wasn’t going to allow them to mess anything else up. Azriel called back his shadows that were swirling around them both playfully, thriving off of the joy they were previously emitting.

Clearing his throat and moving to his feet he answered, “I haven’t completely dismissed that as an option, can’t say I’ve particularly enjoyed anything we’ve done.”

His words had hurt Y/N, Azriel could tell that much, he noticed how her smile had wavered, how her eyebrows knitted together and the spark he so admired in Y/N’s eyes had dimmed. Guilt crawled into Azriel’s chest but he knew it was probably for the best, he’d entertain her visits and activities but he couldn’t allow himself to grow any closer. He knew he wouldn’t be here forever, sure that any week now Rhysand would return calling him back to his duties at the night court and he would go, leaving Y/N behind.

So Azriel looked down at Y/N who was still sat on the floor before, hurt on her face and he turned back to his horse, grabbing the reins and climbing on, “come on, let’s head back.” Y/N nodded, wordlessly picking herself up from the floor, she brushed the dirt from her clothes and hopped onto her horse.

They rode in silence, Azriel wanting nothing more in this moment than for her to start one of her conversations that he once found so unbearably annoying. Even praying that she would start her melodic humming, a sign that he hadn’t hurt her feelings too much. But Y/N didn’t make a sound.

Sighing to himself over the fact that he had found himself caring so much about this woman he barely knew in the space of such a small time, Azriel broke the silence, wanting to reduce the rift he had so suddenly opened between them. “So what do you actually enjoy doing. If not torturing the male species”He lamely attempted a pathetic excuse for a joke, recalling when the atmosphere around them both was lighter and more playful, wishing for it to return.

Without looking at him, Y/N replied quietly, “I don’t get much free time. But when I do I like to bake or sow, I enjoy making dresses.”

In an attempt to make her smile Azriel spoke, “someone who meant a lot to me used to sow, she must have made hundreds of the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen. She made one our high lady wore once, it looked like she had sown together pure starlight.” He glanced to his side where Y/N was riding, a wistful smile creeping onto her lips as if she wished she could create something just as magical.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made anything quite like that”

“I’m sure you’re great. Maybe one day you’ll even make something for me?” It may have been a bit presumptuous of Azriel to say, but at the sight of her usual smile finally on her face he was glad he said it. And Azriel quite liked it, the idea of wearing something made by her.

“A dress?” She teased, the stiff atmosphere around them had blown away with the gentle breeze, a comfortable warmth taking its place.

“I would make a dress work if that’s what you made me. You’ve already put me through enough torture I’m sure I could endure a little bit more.”

Y/N snorted, hand flying to her mouth in an attempt to cover the sound but Azriel caught it and swore to himself he would do everything in his power to make sure he was never the reason for Y/N losing her smile again. As they continued along the path that led back to the city, dirt on their clothes and contentment on their faces. Azriel couldn’t wait for what she had planned next… as long as it didn’t actually involve him having to wear a dress.

Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: I don’t know much about horses so please don’t come for me if I’ve said something wrong <3

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove

(I’m so sorry I couldn’t get some of them to work, and I’m even more sorry if it’s just my awful spelling)

[jaeedraszaerysz]

JON SNOW ☆ DATING HCS

SFW 💕💕

It would probably take him a while to trust you if you hadn't known him very long.

If you grew up with or close to the Starks he tried to befriend you before Robb did

He would always be scared that he would steal your heart away

You would spend hours mocking the men and women of the courts

When Robert Baratheon came to visit you both sat outside taking the piss out of all the Lords and ladies and any twat who dared speak low of either of you.

Tyrion Lannister defos assumed u were a couple and when you told him otherwise, he just shook his head.

Catelyn would probably despise you for being so close to him.

Ned would love you though, thanking the gods silently that the boy had someone by his side.

He would probably have kissed you before he left for the nights watch and spent his nights wondering whether leaving you was worth it all.

When you eventually found your way back to him it was rather chaotic.

You were probably interrogated by tormund on arrival

Atleast until Jon saw you, never forgetting your face.

You probably punched him square in the face and then proceeded to have a huge, westeros equivalent of Oscar worthy, makeput session infront of everyone.

Ghost, when not growling at random twats, would act like a second protector when Jon wasn't by your side.

Arya either loves you or hates you

Sansa is, just like her father was, happy Jon has someone.

Bran doesn't care. He's too busy wheeling around doing seven eyes Sparrow shit or whatever he called it.

You and Davos defos spend ages tryna talk some sense into him.

He always seems to be holding you in some way

Whether it be your arm, hand, waist. He would probably play with your hands or you hair often.

Is always bloody staring

Like never stops

His eyes are for you and only you

Takes. You. Everywhere.

Like no debates. He goes, you follow. Or vice versa.

He took you with him to meet with ramsay and if he made any comment whatsoever it was straight up a routine by now.

Death stare, holds onto you twelve times tighter, kills the offender within 24 hours.

Loves it when you fall asleep on him because he's happy you feel safe with him.

Head kisses.

Need I say more?

Everywhere anytime.

Head. Fucking. Kisses.

Walking past. Head kiss.

Sat next to him at dinner. Head kiss.

In an extremely serious situation requiring your full attention. Head kiss.

Dying. Head kiss.

It's like his fucking bread and butter.

When you first met daenerys it was bad vibes.

Like very bad.

No clue why she just doesn't sit right with you.

Either grows to love you or ends up hating you with a passion.

No in-between.

He dreams of having a normal life.

He would want three kids, two boys and girl so they could protect their sister.

Maybe another direwolf or four. One for each and one for you.

Can't sleep when you aren't next to him.

Teaches you to sword fight extremely early on in your relationship.

If you were ill or pregnant he would never leave your side.

Never ever ever never.

He's convinced that you could have a hundred children and you would still be the person he loves most in the world.

Would do anything for you.

Minors DNI below this line.

NSFW ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (implied female reader)

Worships you like no one else

Touching you always.

Passes it off for his hand on your back but in reality he's secretly caressing your ass, or will have his arms under your cloak, passing it off as a hug, and will gently squeeze your boobs.

Neck kisses.

His favourite thing in the world.

Loves to leave marks on you wherever he can.

Has definitely kissed every inch of your body

Gives no fucks about scars or hair or anything of the sort.

Boobs.

Lives laughs loves your boobs.

Will lay with his face buried in them at any time.

Minor inconvenience? Someone was being a twat? He's tired?

Boob pillow.

Will eat you out for hours.

Insatiable.

You have any problems at all? Sit on his face.

If he's had a bad day he will legit just stuff his face between your thighs.

His fave place.

Says that if you suffocated him it would be an amazing way to go.

Probably prefers giving but he will never say no to receiving.

His dick is probs like 6-7 inches.

Takes tormunds advice very seriously.

Loves to see how many fingers you can take before he stuffs you.

Will go for as many rounds as you need.

Always a gentleman, making sure your comfortable and that your satisfied.

Cockwarming he loves.

Cuddles afterwards.

He will slide out of you and pull you onto on him, pulling the blankets up and wrapping his body around yours.

Calls you love but with his gorgeous deep voice.

Has a sexy asf morning voice.

He's so whipped for you he can't function somedays.

[222col]

meet me at the tennis court

pairing: art donaldson x reader ft. patrick zweig summary: art needs patrick's tennis coach, in more ways than just tennis. word count: 2.4k warnings: 18+!!!!, smut, dirty talk

Art never thought he'd be one for sabotage or betrayal, he never thought he'd need too, he was a good enough player on his own. He and Patrick had always been of a similar level, it was an even playing field before either of them went pro. Patrick got a head start, when Art went to Stanford. While Art did improve during college, Patrick had a dedicated coach, Art had to share a college level coach with the whole team, the playing field wasn't so level anymore. You starting coaching Patrick a year into his professional career, you'd met Art a few times when they'd practise together during spring or summer break, you knew he had potential. Art knew he needed one thing to beat Patrick, you.

It wasn't that he didn't want Patrick to succeed, he did, but he knew he needed you. As much as Art would never admit it out loud, he knew he had the talent to go further than Patrick, he just needed help. He'd watched you, how you worked with Patrick, your sternness, but kindness. You were exactly what he needed, for his career, but also his life. Once Art finished college, Patrick persuaded him to play in a doubles match with him, it wasn't high priority for Art, but he knew it meant time with you, so he agreed. Arriving at training, Art was nervous. Knowing this was his big chance to steal you away from Patrick, to join his team. Part of him felt bad, like a bad friend, but there was just something about you, that he craved.

"Alright, boys," You arrive to the court as the boys are warming up, tight tennis skirt and matching tank, carrying a crate of balls and a racket. Art mumbles a 'Christ' under his breath as you set the crate down and set up some cones. "Dude, I know, I don't know how I ever focus with her as my coach." Patrick responds. Art didn't think he was loud enough for him to hear, letting go of Patrick's hands, letting him drop to the floor. "You think she's hot?" Art questions, pulling his friend up from the floor. "Art, I'm not blind. I know she's hot, I spend nearly every day with her." Art shakes his head and picks up his racket. Patrick follows suit, holding out his hand in front of Art's mouth. Gum drops from his mouth to Patrick's hand. "Very romantic, can we maybe get on with training now?" Their heads snap towards you, both nodding as you wait, hands on hips.

Art wants to impress you, but he keeps missing shots, watching your skirt blow in the wind as you hit balls his way. "Get it together, Donaldson!" You shout, hitting another ball his way. He's focused now, but Patrick jumps in front of him to hit the ball back to your side of the court. "Nice to know one of you has your head screwed on, need to go back to college tennis, Art?" Your words sting, he's meant to be showing you that he's worthy of your time and attention, yet Patrick is out doing him, again. You throw a couple balls in his direction. "Let's see your serve." He picks up a ball, takes a breath and lines it up with the neck of his racket. He grunts as he hits the ball, it was one of his best. "Better." You smile to him. He has to stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks. "Christ, all she did was smile at you, Donaldson." Patrick mocks, clearly noticing the redness on his cheeks. He's grateful you're moving cones and don't notice.

He improves throughout the rest of the session, not better than Patrick, but not missing any more shots. "Okay, boys, that should do us for today." They both drop their rackets, hair slick to their foreheads with sweat as you hand them both a bottle of water. "You have potential, Art, but you need to focus more." He shrugs in agreement as he drinks his water. "He's normally a lot more focused, wonder what got into you, Donaldson?" Patrick isn't slick, Art internally cusses him out. "Maybe I could do with a private session, if you have any spare time?" Art's almost smirking, Patrick definitely is. "Sure, Art," You say, packing away spare rackets. "I have a couple hours tomorrow before Patrick's solo session." His smirk turns to smile. "Great. See you then."

The two boys pick up their bags and head to the showers. Undressing and turning the water on, Patrick laughs. "What?" Art questions, turning on the shower next to his. "You're trying to fuck my coach." Art just shakes his head and starts washing himself. "You're not even denying it!" Patrick laughs, washing the shampoo out of his hair. "Maybe I just want some help." Art responds, letting the water wash the soap off of his skin. "Oh yeah, I'm sure you do." Patrick brings his fist to the side of his face and sticks his tongue to the inside of his cheek, imitating a blowjob. Art scoffs and continues showering. As much as yes, Art does want you in that way. He wants more, he wants all of you. Your body, your brain, your guidance.

Still nervous, but less so than yesterday, Art arrives for his private training session. You're already on the court, skirt looser than yesterday, the wind nearly exposes your ass as you bend over to pick up some extra balls. "Fuck me," Art mutters under his breath. He drops his bag next to you. "Jesus, Art, you nearly gave me a heart attack." You laugh, breath unsteady as you hold your chest. His mind is already wandering. He laughs too, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Opening his bag to pick out a racket. You pick up a racket of your own, grabbing a few balls and telling Art to do the same. You both get into position on either side of the court. After a few rallies, you stop. "You seem a bit pent up, Art, what's bothering you?" You ask, walking towards the net. The sexual frustration he's feeling is one thing, the other being how to breach the subject of subtly betraying Patrick. "Patrick's other coach said this too, I'm not sure." Patrick doesn't have another coach, Art just needs to find a way for you to leave Patrick and focus all your time on him.

"Oh really? That's interesting. Maybe you need to channel your aggression on the court." You don't bite. Do you know he's lying? You take a sip of water. "I didn't know Patrick had another coach." There it is. You bite. "Yeah, for a few months now, I think." Art keeps lying, he should feel bad, but if it means you direct your energy to him. He'll do anything. "Interesting. I told Patrick when I first starting working with him that I prefer my clients to work solely with me." You take another sip. "You know, so secrets don't get shared. My work doesn't get undone, things of that nature." He's done it. He's got you questioning. Your brow furrows as you keep drinking. "That makes perfect sense. I was surprised when he told me, when I knew how brilliant you are- How brilliant you made him." He hopes you ignore his slip up. You don't. "How brilliant I am?" You smirk to him, placing your water on the bench, taking a step towards him. "Well, you're an extraordinary woman." He smiles. "Exactly what I'm looking for actually." You examine his face. "In a coach?"

His eyes deepen, the space between you closing. "Yeah, something like that." Your hands are on your hips, looking up at Art. He can feel your breath on his neck, swallowing deeply. Looking down at you, the loose fit tank not helping, due to the fact he has the perfect angle to see your cleavage. "Something like that?" You repeat his words back to him. "Mhm." is all he can muster in response, his breath hitching. "You want me to coach you, guide you, tell you what to do?" You lean up to him, you lips mere inches from his now. "I definitely want you to tell me what to do." His confidence is back. Smirking down at you. "In tennis?" You question, playing dumb. "In tennis, in life, in bed..." He trails off, faking innocence. "Kiss me then." You barely finish your sentence before his lips are on yours. You can feel his hunger on his lips, his hands searching all over your body as yours tangle themselves in his hair. He finds his way underneath your skirt, caressing the lace and bare skin beneath it. You smile into his kiss, cocky bastard, you think, kissing you like this with his hands on your ass in the middle of the tennis court. Anyone could walk out onto the court, any minute, Patrick could easily arrive early and find the two of you together like this. The thought only turns you on further, Art must feel it in the kiss as his hand snakes around your body and into your underwear.

Gasping and gripping his body tighter as his fingers stroke the length of your folds, your legs almost buckle as he grabs hold of you tighter. Giggling to himself as he watches you come undone. His finger slips inside of you as his lips find their way back to yours. His kiss can barely capture the sound of your moans as he slips another finger inside. "Shut the fuck up," He whispers in your ear, covering your mouth with his hand. "Or do you want someone to catch us with my hand under your skirt?" His grin is evil, he's loving this, watching your eyes turn darker the further he pushes his fingers inside of you. He removes his hand from your face, returning to it's place on your ass. "I don't remember me saying you could tell me what to do, Donaldson." Your voice is shaky, breathing heavy as you hold your moans in the best you can. He raises his eyebrow, removing his fingers from inside you as you pout. "Do you want me to stop?" He asks, his fingers teasing your clit, so gently you can barely feel it. "N-no," you muster, his fingers re-enter. "Stop acting like you're in control right now then." His order hits you like a slap across the face, your knees go weak. You didn't think he had it in him. All you can do is nod your head as he picks up the pace. His thumb now drawing circles on your clit, your eyes close as your head flings back. You bite your lip to stop your moaning, Art's lips attacking your neck, definitely leaving small bruises as he goes. "Good girl." You can't stop the groan that falls from your lips this time. Art chuckles, loving the control he has over you in this moment.

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up, or do you not want to come today?" Your head swings back to face him. "I'll be quiet, I promise, fuck- Art, please let me come," He rewards you with a kiss, you use it to your advantage and let your moans escape into his mouth. You're getting close and he knows it. You've began to shake, your grip on his biceps getting stronger as your nails dig into the skin. He's revelling in the fact you're leaving marks on him. He's getting exactly what he wants, you. "Come for me, baby," His whisper pushes you over the edge, nearly falling to your knees as you finish on his hand, he instinctively holds your body up as you bite down on to his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. He can feel that through his shirt, he'll be left with a bite mark. A groan leaves his own lips at the thought. "So, you'll be my coach then?" He asks, cheekily as you ride out your high. "Fuck, Art, I'll be whatever you want me to be if you keep doing that." He chuckles, pulling out his fingers, immediately bringing them to his lips. He inserts them both to his mouth, licking every drop of you from his fingers. He licks them clean and leans down to kiss you. He giggles into the kiss and smacks your ass playfully. "Hit the showers, Donaldson. I've got to get ready to fire my client, looks like you'll be my priority from now on." He picks up his bag, winking at you as he leaves the court.

Entering the showers, he finds Patrick. He claps slowly, "What a show, Donaldson." Art's cheeks flash red. "Really, I didn't think you had that in you." Art's head drops, thinking whether to deny the whole thing, until he sees the tent in his trousers. Patrick just laughs, patting him on the back. "It's nice to know that I'm finally rubbing off on you." Art's laughing too now, turning on the shower and undressing. "Fuck off," He retorts, stepping under the cold water. He winces as the water hits the fresh marks you've left on his body. Patrick inspects the reason for his wince, noticing the bite mark on his shoulder. "Is it weird to say that's hot?" Patrick smirks, brushing his fingers over the mark. Art shakes his head and pushes his hand off his shoulder.

"You might wanna start looking for a new coach." Art states, washing his face. "Why? You wanna make sure I don't make a move on the girl you're fucking?" Patrick smirks, as Art turns to face him. "She's my coach, as well as the girl I'm fucking, actually," Art can't even attempt to hide his smile as he continues showering. "You little snake!" Patrick laughs as he slaps Art's boner, he groans in pain. "Will you still be my doubles partner?" Patrick asks, picking up his bag, ready to head to the court. Art laughs, "Of course," turning back to his shower. "Don't tell her you saw anything, oh, and if she asks you've had another coach the past few months." Patrick leans around and hits Art on the balls. "You really are a fucking snake, Art!" Patrick laughs and jokingly kisses his cheek. "It's exciting seeing you like this, I hope she gets you to apply it to your tennis, then maybe you'll finally beat me."

[hyperballart]

Hello there (you're one of my favourite writers on here oml ❤️)

Patrick and Art heard that boxers and MMA fighters abstain from sex before a match because the build up of testosterone gives them a competitive edge...so they decide to abstain from girls, each other and even jerking off before a tournament...

How do you think it would go?

omg hi friend!!! thank you so so much it means a lot 😭😭🫶🫶🫶 sorry this is late but…

i feel like art would be stricter with it — not letting himself get any for weeks before an important doubles match with patrick. he advises his friend to follow along even though he knows he thinks he absolutely won’t, he mocks art for being so uptight, “you know that shit’s a myth right? or are you making up excuses cause you’re not getting laid?”

still, as a way to prove art wrong, he decides to involve himself into this ‘futile’ practice. he’s a bit careless with it as he is with most things — meaning he’ll sneak in a jerk off session once a week, and to him that’s technically full abstinence — and he honestly feels like he’s going crazy.

art is up before the sun begins to peek to go through his absurdly extensive workouts and he forces patrick to join because in his words, i want my partner to be on his best game. patrick allows himself to be bossed around by art because he secretly likes being put in his place by him. he’s giving patrick a strict diet to follow and showing him stretches. the latter has become a bit difficult as of recently.

the brunette lies down on a mat while art corrects his form, “dude you need to stretch them out more, you’re fucking stiff,” he holds his legs further to his chest, “see, there you go.”

he begins to grow stiffer somwhere else at that tone. patrick blames the lack of sex for the blood rushing to his cock and he tries playing it off, “you fold all your girls up like this, donaldson?” art scoffs and drops his legs, heading towards the treadmill, “fuck off.” he tries to burn the image of his friend bulge from his memory.

it’s weeks of this; constant training and tension, until the day of their tournament. they play flawlessly, laying out their chemistry and coordination on the court — they easily earn victory. by tradition patrick jumps in art’s arms and he presses a sloppy kiss on his forehead, “finally.”

after numerous pictures and handshakes they head back to their dorm with an unsettling silence. the second art turns the knob he is being slammed, “did you have your fun bossing me around?” art gasps at patrick’s grip on his shoulders against the shut door, the latter just laughs.

he gets in his face, “i was good. i ate all the nasty greens and eggs you shoved down my throat,” art’s eyes are honing in on patrick’s mouth at such a close proximity, “woke up on your schedule. didn’t even fuck, haven’t touched my dick — wasn’t i a good boy artie?” art nods dumbly.

“then that means i get rewarded, with whatever i want,” art nods again — he doesn’t even know what he’s agreeing to. patrick smashes his lips against his. it’s uncoordinated unlike their behavior on the courts — both of their minds blank and cocks tenting their little atletic shorts.

patrick drags art as he takes a seat on the bed and pushes him to his knees in front of him, “haven’t gotten head in ages, and it’s your fault — so get to it.” art looks up in shock and arousal, and he obeys. when he’s tugging at patrick’s waistband he is stopped, “not so fast.”

patrick grips that golden head of curls and shoves it on his crotch. art moans, “oh fuck,” and mouths over the fabric as much as he can, “i’m sorry for being so strict, i wanted to hel— hmpph,” patrick shuts him up by pressing him closer.

the brunette coos at how his friend is nuzzling against his cock through the restriction, “shit, art, i’m so fucking hard. it hurts.” art whines and suctions right where he can see the outline of his balls, breathing in all the musk and sweat like it’s his last breath of air. he goes upwards and now suckles at the outline of his tip, it’s the first time he hears patrick whine.

they don’t know who does it but his shorts are now removed, a pair of boxers being the only separation of contact now. art gets back to it immediately, licking up the drops of precum leaking through and humming. “you’re fucking starving for it, oh god, i need more—“ patrick moans out with struggle.

when he sees art’s hand tugging his own cock he spits out a fuck me and art’s eyes roll back. he uses the grip on his curls to pull him back up, “enough. i’m taking them off, need to cum in that hot little mouth.”

art is ready to show him just how proud he is.

[poppurini]

他们是在 。。。暧昧 ！？second edition.

content. what made your friends think you’re dating him

incl. deuce, jade, jamil & gn!reader ┊ first edition

note. deepest apologies to jamil stans i really tried

deuce spade

Yeeah. It’s so obvious. The first-year can’t even look at you without growing red or sputter nonsense, it’s cute actually. They’d think it’s only a crush but when you laugh and place a reassuring hand on top of his whenever he’s nervous? Yeeah. Everyone could tell it’s the day after feelings were confessed and reciprocated!

That’s not the only factor, though. You see, Deuce and his friend group are particularly loud (cough Ace Grim Sebek). I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody overheard them screaming about Deuce finally making a move or succeeding in asking you out. Also the way they IMMEDIATELY move to sit across or pull another chair just to let you sit beside Deuce is a dead giveaway. Jack’s the only one trying not to make this a big deal.

jade leech

People actually thought you made some type of contract with Octavinelle’s mischievous dorm head and fucked up some things within it when they saw Jade Leech, the equally infamous Octavinelle student around you all the time. They thought he was collecting debt from you! You know, always around you, leaving a little snack on your desk with a note containing who knows what grave threats in it, greeting you outside when class ends, all those notorious pressuring tactics. But you look…happy? When you see him? And Jade looks? Genuine? When he smiles at you? Definitely an unfamiliar sight.

The dots finally connected when you were given a limited edition pastry on the house during that time you visited Mostro Lounge with your friends. Seriously? Free? Octavinelle doesn’t just give out free stuff without some promoting. No, that man handed it to you just like that, told you to enjoy your stay. He didn’t even thought of giving your friends one! Look look, there it is. That super mischievous and mocking smile. Directed towards them but not you, is he courting you?

jamil viper

Jamil sighs when he realises he forgot his headphones back at your place. You needed help in one of the chapters and Kalim encouraged him greatly to aid you, giving him permission to leave his side. The study session went on late, both overworked students tired, and he bid goodbye forgetting his headphones. Now he actually has to listen to Floyd’s annoyingly high pitched voice and some of Ace’s not so intelligent comments during warmup. Until a voice that rings pleasantly in his ears was heard. “Jamil! You left this at my place- hm? Oh no worries! Thanks again with helping me with homework yesterday. I’ll see you later? Bye!” before you hurriedly rushed to your own club activity.

After giving you a wave, Jamil did a sharp turn, purposely avoiding the other basketball club members’ gaze. Left it? At your place? Riiight. Jamil’s not a bad person, but his hands are so full with making sure Kalim survives that no one thinks it’s possible for him to fish out time for another or even willing to. Definitely prompted some teasing brow wiggles and elbow nudges.

[hooked-on-elvis]

I'm shocked (not really, but it's shocking to hear this anyway) to learn that at some point in life Priscilla sued Marty Lacker for a money Elvis gave him. She dropped the lawsuit when Marty counterclaimed it. Marty says "She messed with the wrong guy, but she was trying to use me as a test case against the other guys. She is a lovely person."

(1) February 25-26, 1965: Elvis signing autographs for fans in Nashville while he was in town for the recording session for the "Harum Scarum" movie soundtrack. Marty Lacker is seen by Elvis' side.

YOUTUBE - INTERVIEW WITH MARTY LACKER BY JOE KREIN PART 3 (out of 4) (go to 30:00 to listen his story about the lawsuit by Priscilla)

Now, this is just my personal comments on this but for all I've learned about Marty Lacker so far I believe he had the best interests at heart concerning Elvis. He helped EP with his music career A LOT. The way he puts it, it seems he worried with Elvis' name in the business because: 1. Marty knew EP had so much to offer (as everybody else knew), so much talent to go to waste on unworthy movies and its soundtracks and on general commercially weak songs, and 2. I bet it wasn't funny to see people mocking his friend for the kind of music and movies Elvis was making. Marty, as well as some other Memphis Mafia guys, worried about Elvis' personal satisfaction and well-being for multiple reasons... maybe not all of them being selfless but I still believe they did care about Elvis as a friend and human being even if they had hidden interests and whatever was the nature of them.

Now, all of those guys (all the people) around EP were seeing him killing himself little by little while trying to numb the disturbing thoughts in his mind and the sorrow in his soul... they were witnessing all of the sad incidents happening over the years where Elvis would end up hurting himself or almost dead. Marty was one of the few people that would go against Colonel Parker when he convinced Elvis to try something new for his career, something that would end up giving Elvis a great refreshing moment in his life, something he was hoping for deep down but somehow couldn't imagine how to make it happen himself and the ones who were in the place to advice him were too busy with their own personal agendas to care about the King's aspirations for his career.

Marty was the one to manage getting Elvis into the American Sound studio (later at the Stax too), and Marty was also the one to recommend the Sweet Inspirations to work on Elvis' concerts. Just by that alone, ALONE, could you really think Marty deserved a lawsuit for a money Priscilla didn't even need? I mean, where is the gratitude to some of the close friends of the man she allegedly says she loved?

As he said in the same interview, Marty was no saint… he wasn't a leech either. There was a time when Elvis lent him some money and Marty paid him back some time later, so Elvis was deeply touched by it because normally no one would pay him back ever! That shows something, right?

Maybe I don't know enough yet because I'm relatively a new born in the Elvis fandom, and I absolutely don't agree with every statement I've listened/read coming from Marty but in general I see him as one of the good guys from the Memphis Mafia bunch. I mean, every story has two sides. Maybe Priscilla sued Marty after being counselled to do so by some lawyer she had, like she was when she decided take Elvis to the court again in 1973, asking for more money after the divorce settlement had been set in 1972 - and by this I mean she could've been convinced to sue Marty instead of having the idea herself, which at least would make things a little less awful. But any reason she had to do that, I mean... why? There's things in life we just don't do. Even if she didn't personally liked the guy (and we know from Elvis' friends the ones she really liked were Joe Esposito and Jerry Schilling), she had to admit Marty was a great contributor to the Elvis Presley estate from which she benefits until today. I think for all Marty did for Elvis' career it's reasonable to think that any money he could've borrowed from EP would have already made its way back into the Presley's bank account in other ways. Maybe a little bit of gratitude and respect to him wouldn't hurt. I mean, I'm not totally against Priscilla... in some ways I can understand her, I really can, but not on this. Not when it comes to her greediness.

I just wonder what would Elvis think.

(2) The Presley's wedding day, February 1, 1967. Marty with Elvis and Priscilla.

FURTHER INFO: On July 17 1973, "in the papers presented to the court Priscilla's new attorney seeks to set aside the original divorce settlement." - Excerpt from 'Elvis Day by Day' by Peter Guralnick and Ernst Jorgensen. Now in addition to what has been agreed on the August 1972 divorce settlement, from the 1973 new settlement Priscilla would also receive, among other things, Spousal support, additional $625,000 (in cash) to the original $100.000 agreed and 5% of Elvis' royalties.

[thesharkwhalewhoohooooo]

Bridget x fem! Oc

"Red, my dearest, don't cut your hair like that." Hecate had walked in on a 17 year old Red, sitting begrudgingly at her vanity chair and was about to snil a whole chunk of hair off, probably because she was frustrated at it.

"Go away Hecate."

"Mh, sure, after you've given me those scissors, or else my head'll be the next one rolling." She joked, something that was strictly forbidden.

"What would you like me to do princess?" Red held up her hair in a half up half down, which she had been trying to do for a while now, but it just wouldn't sit right.

"There, no need to cut it all of, it takes longer to grow lost things back than it does to cut it off." She smiled at Red through the mirror, patting her shoulders and staring at her for a bit as she did her makeup.

"Creep."

"I'm allowed to stare at you kid, you've grown so much Red, it's weird how much you're like your mom." Red scoffed, hooding up her tube of mascara as if it was her mom's scepter and mocking her accent.

"Off with their heads!" Hecate laughed, the same loud and warm laugh that's been in every good memory Red has ever had.

"Exactly like that kiddo, just add a bit more black to your eyeshadow and you'd be a carbon copy!" She stopped laughing and looked at Red suspiciously.

"Well, i'd say your tutoring session is already done, but apparently Maddox had forgotten to give you some homework." Red frowned in confusion, what the fuck was that old lady on about?

Maddox landed on the couch she had but in the corner of her room, waving at them through the mirror with some papers.

"Good morning my Hecate!" The woman smiled at him, patting Red's shoulder once again before turning around and leaving.

"Gods, she's changed so much." Maddox reminisced about his past memories of the witch, not realising that Red had turned around in her chair.

"Has she really changed that much?"

"Mhm, there used to be a time where she was engaged... not that she'll ever be able to have a love life anymore though, so I wouldn't dwell on it too much." He shrugged, handing her the papers and quickly rushing out before she could ask more.

"Stupid Maddox and his shitty cliffhangers."

-

Red wasn't going to tell anyone that Maddox's words had intrigued her, so she obviously also didn't tell anybody that she was 'lurking' around in the court magician's quarters, even though it was her home sk it wasn't considered lurking, it felt as if she was, because she had never been in this hall before.

Much like how the queen had a hall of portraits of past rulers, the court magicians had a similar hall, with their engagements, accomplishments and marriages depicted on a plaque under their portrait.

When she had finally gotten through the endless sea of bright purple blue hair, and her eyes landed on Hecate's face, she searched the portrait for anything first.

She had an axe swung across her shoulder, the same muscled build, mostly same clothing, the hearts on her trousers were shades of pink, not red... weird, especially when the hearts on her shoulders kept their pink.

Her eyes trialed over her portrait, she saw a mass of bodies piled up behind her, making up the entirety of the back of it, but just far enough that you won't spot it when you first look.

"What the fuck..." she breathlessly muttered, leaning closer as she distinguished the bodies of human beings, including massive giants and sea creatures.

"Oh wow, she's a fucking monster, good to know." Red rolled her eyes, then went on to read the plaque.

"Hecate Spades and her weapon: the princess of Hearts, engaged to Queen Bridget Hearts- WHAT?!" Red's eyed widened, leaning closer and rubbing over the plaque as she saw her mother's name.

"Yeah, that was such a long time of my life, i'f wish it upon my worst enemy... but y'know, don't have any anymore." Hecate shrugged, as if she hadn't just scared the life out of the girl she considered a daughter.

"What?"

"YOU NEARLY MARRIED MY MOTHER?!" Hecate nodded, looking down at the princess with a smile.

"Mhm, definitely almost did." She shrugged, "but, someone has to carry on the court's magician line, and i'm not sure how that would work if we merged with the royal line." Red suspiciously eyed her, that was not the real reason for the break up.

"Then where is your heir then? Mh?" Hecate smirked at her.

"You." Red choked, then saw Hecate laughing and slapped her.

"Hey! Not funny!" Hecate stopped laughing, staring at Red for a while, seemingly out of it before she nudged her arm.

"Hellooooo?"

"Right, actually, i'm training my niece for it, she's my father's sister's son's daughter, she had a high affinity in magic, and if she gets my magic when I pass, she might be up to par with me." She looked down at the plaque, eyes zeroing in on the queen Bridget of Hearts part, if she ever found out, she'd have no niece to teach.

"Let's leave before she finds us here-."

"Red. What are you doing here." The queen herself had left her throne room purely to find her daughter, now that was rare.

Hecate stiffened up, which Red noticed, and pushed the girl to her daughter, standing in front of her portrait with a matching grin.

"What'cha think? Do I still look as amazing as 2 decades ago?" She put her hands on her side and puffed up her chest, Red let out a giggle at it, and Hecate looked at her with soft eyes, remembering more and more of her Bridget the longer she spend with her.

"You look utterly stupid, stop this nonsense at once." Speaking of the woman, she was staring straight into Hecate's eyes, who smiled at her.

"Will do so, my queen." She bowed, disappearing into nothing in less than a second.

"Hey, mom? Were you ever engaged-..." Red trialed off with a frown, looking at the plaque, where once stood engaged to to Queen Bridget of Hearts' now laid a blank spot.

"Why are you spouting such nonsense, out of this hall! Now! And I better not find you snooping here again! I bet Hecate put you up to this, didn't she?!"

-

"Can I see the princess of Hearts?" Red had been begging Hecate for a few weeks now, and was officially hanging off of her leg to try persuade her.

"Okay! If you stop... whatever this is?" Hecate groaned out, stopping in front of Red's quarters, where she was supposed to drop her off.

"You are not small enough to do that anymore!" Red smirked as she stood up, crossing her arms as she stood before her heart shaped doors.

"Show me!" Hecate pulled out a mirror with a cheeky grin, Red glared at her.

"Okay! Okay! Calm it kid..." She trialed off, gesturing with her hand, and then the axe was there, giant pink heart and all.

"Here you go." She held it out to the princess, whose former titleholder it was named after.

"Is it named after... you know?" She spoke softly, as if trying to preserve the magic the weapon held in her eyes.

"Your mom? Yeah, but my cover up story is that she has a heart and it's my princess." Red rolled her eyes once more at the lame coverup.

"Don't roll your eyes at me young lady!"

"It's too late to go back from being the fun uncle Hecate!" Red teased, her arms slowly starting to tremble from the weight of the axe.

"I'll hold her for you, i'll place her down in your room so you can inspect her all you want." She had to get out of there before Red reminded her too much of Bridget.

"Yeah sure, what kind of stone is that?"

"A lover's secret, ironically enough."

"That's so corny."

-

"I can go back in time and see how Hecate looked for myself now?! I've always wanted to see how she defeated that giant seamonster!" Maddox snatched the watch out of her hands.

"No Hecate related trips until you're older! Promised?" Red hiffed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot on the ground.

"All right! I won't go on any Hecate related trips in the near future!" Maddox nodded, relieved.

"Also, I have the Princess of Hearts in my room right now, you wanna go check it out?" Maddox shook his head yes wildly.

-

"-invited to join Auradon Prep." Red saw Hecate's features sour from besides her mother, who looked shocked for a while.

"We accept!" Even Hecate seemed surprised, and she was never surprised at anything her mother did.

"Wait what?"

"You shall go to Auradon Prep! Now go and pak your bags!"

"Did my mom just grow a heart?" Red frowned as she asked Maddox, who also seemed confused.

"And dress in something respectable! For once try not looking like Hecate..." Red shrugged, that was a compliment in her books.

"Okay so half a heart, i'm gonna go ask Hecate why she looked so sour! Bye!"

"Why did you look so sour?" Red popped up in Hecate's office through the hidden door behind one of the paintings, Hecate staring at where she popped up long after she had jumped down.

"Mh?" She snapped out of her memory of having to catch Bridget from when she tried to come in through there, swallowing the knot in her throat for later.

"Why'd you look so sour?"

"I went to Auradon Prep..."

"HUH?!"

"It wasn't called that yet stupid, sit down somewhere, I'll tell you a story about your mom that not many know, only like... three people are left." Red quickly plopped down onto the comfortable chair she had Hecate place close to her desk in a corner.

"Tell!"

"Okay, so, it used to be called Merlin's academy, because, of course, Merlin was the big man there." Red nodded, urging her to continue.

"And my dad was a douchebag, so he said I could 't join Bridget there unless I defeated an entire army, which I did by the way! And then when I finally got there Bridget didn't recognise me. Blah blah blah, almost a year later, family day, her parents show up-."

"Mom had parents? She didn't just... spawn?"

"Shut up kid. -and they revealed that I was her childhood best friend, she was all shocked like what?? Oh my good gracious heavens how did I not recognise you?!"

"She cussed like that?"

"It's not about that?!" Red sighed and rolled her eyes.

"The end, not happily ever after because we eventually broke up after like... 7 years." She let that information sink in.

"You guys were in a relationship until I was like...5?"

"I think it's more 6? Who cares, we're both shit at math, which is why you need to find yourself a girl who's good at counting stuff because we're both fucking bad at it, and I already found a girl like that but it didn't work out for me but it will for you!" the princess rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair.

"You wanna help pack?"

"Hell yeah!"

-

"Don't forget to brush your teeth every morning and evening, and then don't forget to do your skincare, you never know when you might end up in a picture that they might post, having pimples when that happens is so fucking annoying." Red slapped Hecate's hands away, who was fussing over her even though she was supposed to put her luggage into her dorm.

"Hecate?" A blue haired woman was looking at them, and Hecate grinned at her, the girl standing next to the blue haired woman staring wide eyed at the woman.

"Ella! I'm not really allowed to talk to you... is this Chloe? She's way prettier in person! Where'd she get all that from?" Red awkwardly stood next to her, trying to leave but instead being kept there by Hecate, who gave her a shove into the direction of Chloe, who was freaking out about the fact that thee Hecate Spades was standing in front of her.

"Well obviously from me."

"Mh... not sure, i'm way prettier."

"Hecate... we're adults now, we're better than this."

"You might be, i'm still not over the fact that you threw that rock at my forehead, I think I even have a scar! Look!" She held up her hair and leaned her forehead closer, Ella laughed and slapped her arm.

"Oh my god! You normally would've punched me... has royalty pressure changed you?" Ella looked away from her.

"It did? That's not good-...."

Red zoned back in on the girl now holding her hands.

"Hi!i'm Chloe? You must be Red! My new roomie!" Red witheld a grimace, instead slowly nodding.

"Yeah... sure."

-

"Bridget, don't." Hecate spoke up before the queen could say what she wanted to, but she only gave her a glare and stood up to pronounce war onto Auradon, throwing her cards up.

Hecate sighed as she stood up, holding out her hand for Red, who slowly shook her head as she looked up at the woman who had essentially raised her.

"I don't want to die, please don't let me die." She heard Hecate whisper into the breeze, empowered only by hope and her own strength that it might reach someone's ears.

"I don't want to kill, I'm not good for anything else, please don't do this." It was really Hecate, Red watched as her mouth moved, only whispers coming out that she could only half hear.

"Please don't make me use her."

-

"Sweetheart!" Bridget smiled as Hecate walked into the courtyard, Red's eyes widening as she saw the stray blood splatters on the bottom of her trousers.

That certainly explained why they're red now  -it didn't, but maybe???-

"Princess!" Hecate grinned, rushing towards Bridget and picking her up to spin her around, pecking her lips several times.

"Hey! Big lady! Let the princess down!" Ella kicked Hecate's shins, the girl glaring down at her as she held Bridget close.

"Shut up Ella. I got you this!" She smiled as she fished a small bag out of her pocket, presenting it tk Bridget like it was priceless, carefully setting her down.

"Is this?" Bridget gasped, eyes wide.

"I saw one of them on my way back from fishing for those fish you wanted, I got a few of its teeth and grinded it to the powder for you! Also I put an anti stink spell on the fish... why do you need them though?" Bridget smiled, placing a finger to her lips.

"Secret!"

"Awwwww!" Ella kicked her again. "Hey little ant girl! Stop that!"

"Sunfish!"

"Dwarf!"

As the two continued exchanging insults, Red and Chloe glanced at each other.

What the fuck.

-

Well, they stopped the prank, ish? And headed back, but they ended up still not back, instead they were in a very specific room in the Hearts castle, the Queen's, it seemed like they weren't there in person, more like their conscious was.

"Bridget? Where are you?" Hecate called out into the room as she walked in, walking through the two girls.

"I'm here, no need to be sk worried." Bridget giggled, looked at Hecate from the bathroom doorpost.

"Are we interrupting something?"

"Shhhhh."

"Why sre your eyes red? What happened? Do I need to-?"

"Kill someone?" Bridget finished with a frown, looking down at the floor.

Hecate kneeled down in front of her to be in her line of sight, holding her knees and placing her chin on her stomach.

"what's wrong?" A tear fell onto her forehead, Hecate didn't stop looking up at the no-darker pink haired woman, who's hands were shaking as they gripped onto her light pink sleeping gown.

"Why do you always kill everything?"

Red's eyes widened, the Hecate she knew had begged her not to have her kill, not to die, not to use her most prideful weapon, this was a whole other Hecate.

"I'd burn the world down for you, my queen." Chloe Awwed, Red hit her for it.

"I don't want you to burn the world for me, I want you to be here with me and watch the world flourish, not burn, I don't want to hurt the world anymore than I have to." Hecate kept silent, she knew what this meant.

"I won't kill for you anymore, I can swear on my life-."

"Don't do that, you'll just kill yourself, that's not what I want, I don't want the world to burn, but all you do is set it ablaze further. I don't want that." Hecate's eyes began to water, leaning back a bit so the can look down and lean with her head against her.

"Just say it."

"What're they talking about?" Chloe whispered to Chloe, who had walked closer to hear their hushed conversation, as if the whole world was in this room, as if their whole paradise was about to crumble within these walls, nowhere further.

"Shut up Chloe."

"I don't think this engagement is a good idea.... We're not right for each other." Hecate's tears finally hit the hardwood floors, Bridget slowly combing her fingers through her hair.

"Don't do this, don't do this to me." The queen's tears fell onto Hecate's hair, slowly rolling off or sticking in between the ruffled strands.

"I have to, I can't let everything burn for us, it's not who I am."

"And I respect that! I don't need to set it all ablaze for you! I can just.... Not do that! I'll watch everything grow with you! I'll watch Red grow up and be just like you! Please don't-." She stopped talking abruptly, slumping down and sitting on her knees completely slouched.

"We'll watch her grow up, just not together."

Red hadn't noticed her own tears until Chloe was stood next to her, gently holding her hand and leaning against her.

"It's allright, you can cry about it." Red let a soft sob escape her lips, hiding her face in Chloe's shoulder and crying as Hecate slowly stood up and exited, leaving Bridget, who fell on top of her bed and sobbed into the pillows.

-

"Red! My daughter!" Bridget held open her arms for her daughter, who hesitated a bit before accepting the hug.

"Where's Hecate?" She felt her mother tense a bit under her, but she didn't see it otherwise, and she was greeted by a warm hand on her back.

"Wassup kid, i'm happy you're going to attend almost the same school as us! We had such a good time here..." Red glanced at Chloe, who was next to her, both in silent understanding that yes, that was a really sad tone.

"You'll find friends in no time!" Bridget smiled brightly, hugging her again.

"The castle will feel incredibly empty without my little felon."

"Well maybe it will be easier to clean up without you influencing her every move." Hecate jokingly crossed her arms, turning away from them slightly.

"Stop it you crybaby!" Red grinned out, grabbing Hecate and pulling her into the hug, cautiously eyeing her as she stared at her mother with soft, lovesick eyes.

"How about I show you guys where your pictures are, they still have them, you know." Ella nudged Hecate, who dragged both Chloe and Red with, Bridget trying to stop them.

"Come on princess!" Bridget stuttered in her step, eyes widening as she nearly got sucked into a memory of the three of them running around, her usually after the two others, who were wrecking havoc, and always with the same two sentences being thrown at her by Hecate and Ella.

"Yeah! Let's go!" Ella grabbed Bridget's wrist and dragged her with, leading the group towards the wall filled with pictures.

"Oh! Castlecoming! You two were announced cutest couple!" Ella excitedly pointed out, her finger pointing towards the two, wrpaped up in a loving embrace, Bridget in a beautiful light pink ballgown, and Hecate in a matching white suit, with a light pink blouse.

"Always matcht the lady." Hecate shrugged it outt with a proud grin, "also helps if the lady doesn't give me dead rats."

"You know, i'm thinking about kicking your shins again, i'm wearing pointy heels!"

Bridget watched as her family ran around again, and even though she had never wanted to see the world burn, she'd have loved to watch this flourish with Hecate by her side.

[peachpixiebby]

The reactions of some men to the hypothetical man or bear question just further illustrates how many men literally hate women. How this 👆is their first thought. Fantasizing about women scared and in pain. This is why we choose the bear. Bc many men take pleasure in witnessing violence against women. It has me thinking about the p0rn industry and how it largely fetishizes this very thing. The faces & noises women make in p0rn. Like it hurts and they don’t want it. And men literally reach climax over the idea.

This hatred towards women begins in the messaging that little boys receive. A lot of learning how to be a man comes from how to avoid feminine things. You’re mocked if you “throw like a girl” “run like a girl” “sit like a girl” get told “boys don’t cry” “those toys are for girls”. The message gets received that being like a girl = bad. Men will avoid human things like basic hygiene, showing emotions, drinking out of straws ??? for fear of being perceived as feminine which this messaging has equated to being weak.

The other day, my coworker tells, what he thinks, a “hilarious” story of how his parents once punished him by having him hold a sign advertising his sister selling Girl Scout cookies. Even holding a sign that says the word “girls” was meant to be shameful?? I tell him that encouraged toxic masculinity to shame him by associating him with something feminine. He snickers and says it was a different time. NO. Challenge these ideas. He has kids. I wonder if the cycle will continue (by his reaction I fear it will).

It’s just crazy how deeply rooted the hatred of women is in our society. The Supreme Court just had a session debating just how many organs must a woman lose before DR’s are allowed to preform a life saving abortion. Even when the pregnancy is no longer viable.

The deceased have more bodily autonomy than women. A person must have consented to being an organ donor during their life for it to be legal to use their body parts to sustain another life.

I really really fear for our future as it’s clear the government looks at women as baby incubators instead of autonomous humans. And the fact it’s masqueraded as a religious motive when really it’s about making more future workers and consumers. Also like what happened separation of church and state? 🤔 why are we making laws in respect to religion? Christian nationalist want everyone living under their rules when the United States was founded on the basis of freedom of religion. This, among MANY MANY additional dumpster fires, makes my heart and soul ache. It makes me angry and bitter. I’ve lost so much trust and hope in our leaders and society. There’s still good out there but man is it hard to focus on sometimes

[jewbeloved]

Could you write the Yandere alphabet of Tweek and Craig? thank you very much (btw have a happy new year <3)

Yandere Creek Alphabet 💙💛🩸❤️‍🩹💔

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping and murder

Gender: Neutral

💛 Craig and Tweek 💙

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

At first, they preferred to stay as a couple since they weren't really into poly relationships.

But that was until they immediately changed their minds after seeing you for the first time, they still weren't sure about it though but after the poly relationship started with you and them they didn't regret it one single bit.

As for them giving affection, Craig is always down with cuddling you and Tweek together. He also lets you cuddle him if you wanna take over and be the big spoon.

Tweek is nervous when Craig is not present at the moment during your cuddling sessions. He's afraid he might cuddle you uncomfortably or you might be annoyed at him for feeling anxious even though it's just you both cuddling.

Please give Tweek some reassurance that he's doing alright 🥺

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

They are pretty much soft yanderes when it comes to you.

They aren't a huge fan of murdering their victims physically, like Kenny in my last yandere alphabet with him. Craig and Tweek prefer to kill their victims where the blood or evidence won't get on them.

Washing their clothes and getting rid of evidence that is on them is a real pain in the butt you know?

Their killings aren't really messy, they're in fact clean and straightforward.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Goodness no!

Why would they mock you?

Sure they may have kidnapped you, but that doesn't mean they would go out of their way to degrade you like a helpless animal, even If you try to escape from them.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Anything that will involve you trying to escape.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Tweek would be the most vulnerable one in this scenario.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

You could do anything, and they still wouldn't let you leave them.

They're loyal asf.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Oh, probably when you did something really uncalled for and made them both snap at you and made you sleep on the couch crying yourself to sleep for hours.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

They don't mind any future with you, as long as you're by their side.

They can already tell their future is going to be amazing.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yep they do get jealous, but not jealous enough to kill that particular person on the spot.

Unless that person really pushed their jealousy to the next level.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

They're drowning you in kisses and affection all day, and you can't do anything about it >:C

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

They approached and talked to you normally like any other person would before they began to develop highly feelings for you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Tweek almost made it seem obvious a few times, but he got better at hiding over time like Craig.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishment? Nah.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

None, your free darling. But not free enough to be allowed to leave ☺️

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

As patient as a porcupine 🤗🤗☺️

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Their relationship wouldn't be the same without you, they both loved you so much but since you're gone. They can't even stay together.

Craig and Tweek would both break up with each other and go separate ways.

Sorry, but it wouldn't be the same without you...

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Tweek does feel guilty for kidnapping and shutting you away from the world like this.

But if he ends up having a certain mood swing, he wouldn't feel bad nor guilty about it.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

The protective side got the better of them, if it didn't they wouldn't be on the edge of being yanderes.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Let's be honest, Tweek would probably be freaking out the most and think it would be his fault that you're isolating yourself from them both.

Craig would calm him down and reassure him, before he talks you into stop isolating yourself.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

No

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

You might have to play your cards right with this one.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

🫤👉❌ No

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

They would mostly be friends with you for like a couple of weeks before they took it to the next level of asking you to be in a poly relationship with them.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

2 months

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No means no.

Haven't done a yandere alphabet in ages, tbh.

[ihaveathingforwomen]

Mock Trial - Professor AU

Professor!Alex Cabot x Fellow!Casey Novak

Chapter 3 - Masterlist

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Alex asks Casey a burning question, resulting in a blinding response.

A/N: Yall. I have a firm headcanon that Casey watches and enjoys the X-Files, and even bonds with Munch over it. That being said, Mulder & Scully are the inspiration for this chapter. Video here

The next couple of days were an emotional blur for Casey. The messages from Alex were sincere and heartfelt, straying far from their typically professional relationship. Internal conflict waged war on her, rendering her exhausted as she thought about all of the ways that she wanted Alex, but reminded herself of all the ways that their relationship could be potentially fatal. She laid about on her couch for the weekend and texted Alex consistently, even late into the evening. It seemed to her that Alex was trying to find ways to talk as much as possible. 

While Casey waded through the waves of emotions, Alex had a turbulent weekend as well. She found herself at Liz’s apartment more than once, both for advice and a little bit of stress relief. When she wasn’t with Liz, she busied herself by preparing her lectures or researching cases to use during class. Nearing the end of September, it was time for her to start preparing the mid-term exams for her students, as well as a few opportunities for them to attend court sessions.

Despite her business, she made a point to text Casey. While she knew that she needed to send her heartfelt message, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting Casey in the position to accept it. Though, she started planning ways to potentially make it up to Casey for not celebrating her birthday. As she prepped for her classes, Alex kept an extra legal pad next to her so that she could write down the ideas she had for Casey as they came to her. She’d already purchased a gift that she knows Casey will appreciate, but what else could she do? Within herself she argued that she couldn’t be too forward; no fancy restaurants, no sexy dresses, and certainly no apartment visits. She despised having to set boundaries for herself, but she knew that it was going to be for Casey’s benefit. 

Monday comes around and Alex waits patiently in her office for her regular visitor. As time ticked on, she began to feel self-conscious. Worry scratched at her brain as she thought she may have made Casey uncomfortable. Maybe she’d pushed too hard or been too attached. Maybe she’d been seeing things that weren’t there, imagining more of a spark than there was even a match to light. 

Her mind finally quieted when there was a light knock at the door frame, a smiling redhead standing and casting a shadow into Alex’s office. “Hey! Sorry I’m late, I had an interview!” 

Alex furrowed her brow as Casey sat down in front of her with a huff, appearing to have run to make it to Alex’s office. “Oh? You didn’t mention you had an interview, how did it go?”

Casey crossed a leg over her knee, hands poised and clasped in her lap as she sighed, catching her breath. “It went really well, I think.” 

“What was it for?” 

“A mock trial in the spring. Professor Donnelly was the one who interviewed me, I wish I’d taken one of her classes.” Alex willed her body not to allow the blood into her cheeks, but she felt a small blush rise against her will. 

“I remember hearing about that…” Alex said thoughtfully, trying to remember whether or not Liz had mentioned interviewing her crush. “I think they asked me to coach one of them, but I’m really not sure.” 

Casey chuckled nervously, “I’m excited. We’ll be working through a real cold case, start to finish.” 

“When do you hear back about your interview?”

Casey’s eyes wandered upwards as she thought, searching the air for answers. “I think during winter break, but I’m not sure.” Casey sighed, her breath finally caught. “How was your weekend?” She started their typical Monday conversation. 

Alex crossed her arms on top of her desk, a hand resting on the opposite bicep. “It was busy, I was making some plans for this week.” 

“Oooo, what kind of plans?” Casey asked, a smile bright on her cheeks as her eyes danced down to Alex’s lips, staring for a moment. 

Alex sucked her lips inwards, biting them nervously. She leaned a bit forward, her hand leaving her bicep and holding the side of her neck. She gripped the back of her neck nervously. “Well, they’re actually plans I wanted to talk to you about.” 

Casey turned her head to the side, furrowing her brow. She uncrossed her legs, and lifted one of her feet onto the chair, wrapping her arms around it and resting her chin on her knee. “Me?”

Alex nodded, her hand leaving her neck. She intertwined her fingers and rested her chin on top of them, mimicking the woman before her. “Yes,” she took a shaky breath, “I was wondering if you’d like to celebrate your birthday a little more.” 

Casey laughed, her smile shimmered and Alex felt her heart swoon. Casey bit her lip as she caught herself about to say Alex’s name, “I told you, you don’t have to do anything for me.” 

Alex huffed, laying her hands down and staring at the desk below her, “I know that, but…” she sighed, “I want to. Just something casual, I’ll plan it, you just have to be there.” Her eyes gradually made their way to Casey’s face, watching her expression. 

Blood rushed to Casey’s cheeks, turning them red in seconds. She felt her core heat up and her stomach flutter with excitement. She closes her eyes in thought and then buries her face in her knee, shielding Alex from how wide she was smiling. She takes a sharp breath before looking up at her professor, visibly gushing. Alex had never been so relieved. 

“Sure,” Casey finally answered with a laugh. “When?” 

“How about Friday?” Alex asks, knowing that Casey doesn’t have classes and should be available. 

“What time?”

“Whenever you’re available,” Alex offers, her eyes expectantly watching Casey’s expression. “I will pick you up, too.”

Awe becomes apparent on Casey’s features. Putting her legs down, she met Alex’s eyes, a strange surge of confidence surfacing in her chest. “I think that sounds great, Professor-” 

“Alex,” she interjects, “you can call me Alex.” A soft smile rises to her cheeks as she feels relief at Casey’s agreement. 

Casey’s chest starts to pound, feeling her core heat up at the thought of actually using her name. Her mouth starts to dry and she wets it with her tongue. Their eyes lock and visions pass through her mind of fantasies she’d had over the weekend. “Alex. I think six works for me.”

Blood flows into Alex’s cheeks, “I think six is perfect, Casey.” 

----------

The rest of the week was tension filled between them. Casey felt constant anxiety about what Alex had planned for them. During their meetings, they migrated to the couch in Alex’s office, sitting next to each other, facing each other with crossed legs and hands wandering into the space between them. When they faced each other, the tension was practically tangible, like they could squeeze the air between them. She tried to coax the plans out of Alex but every time she brought it up, Alex would claim it was a surprise and she’d just have to be patient. 

Friday morning, Casey’s patience was finally up. She woke up earlier than intended, her mind flooded with possibilities and hopes for the evening approaching. That night, she’d dreamed about Alex. Her subconscious seemed to believe that Alex was taking her to a fancy french restaurant where they’d gorge on delicacies. Dream Alex wore a scandalous red dress, tight on her figure and low cut cleavage. The dream ended with steamy kisses in the backseat of Alex’s car. 

Normally, she wouldn’t picture anything so expensive, but when she told Charlie about Alex’s proposal, he admitted to some internet sleuthing. He informed her about Alex’s familial wealth and reputation. Back in New York, where Alex grew up, her family was riddled with doctors, lawyers, wall-street businessmen, oil executives and more. The money seemed to pour out of every orifice of her family. In New York, Alex had been one of the best ADAs in Manhattan with an eighty percent conviction rate. Despite his skill, Charlie couldn’t find the reason she’d left. The information was enough for Casey to imagine what it would be like to be spoiled by all of the money. 

Fighting off her subconscious imagination, she decided to text Alex promptly. 

Casey: Can you at least tell me what I should wear? 

Waiting anxiously for Alex’s response, Casey refrained from getting dressed. To compensate, she took out numerous pieces of clothing from her closet to create outfit options. Just when she felt like she’d picked the perfect outfit, she stared for a second too long and decided against it. As she’d constructed her fifth outfit option, her phone pinged. 

Alex <3: It’s very casual. Maybe something that allows for a lot of movement 

Well, that could be taken many ways. A heavy sigh poured from her lungs as she checked her outfit options. None of them would work, they all seemed too much. Defeated, she picks up her phone and makes a phone call to Charlie, requesting he come over and assist. 

Around an hour later, Charlie arrives with a quiet rap at her door. Fortunately, Casey’s roommate was out for the day and she was able to answer the door in her boxers. 

“Finally,” she teases when she opens the door. 

He waltzes in, closing the door behind him. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was at your beck and call Miss Novak,” he jokes. Following her into her bedroom, his eyes widened at the sight of her closet exploding on her bed. He quirks a brow and pinches a couple of items, lifting them with a grimace. “Looking for clothing to donate?” 

“No,” she groans, searching through her closet pointlessly. 

“Hmm,” he grunts. “What’s your emergency? Need an update in your wardrobe?”

He plops on her bed and she turns around, hands on her hips in frustration. She looks around the room and throws up her hands, “Now is not the time to joke about my style, Char.” A hand rises to her forehead, her fingertips and thumb pressed to either temple. She sighs, “I need help choosing an outfit for my date.” 

He glances at the clothing surrounding him on all sides. “Oh, I see.” He realizes what she said and grins, “so it’s officially a date?”

She pauses searching through the clothing on the bed, staring into space. “Well, I don’t know.”

He sighs, holding back another tease, “what’s the dress code? Has she told you what she has in store yet?” 

She picks up her phone, unlocking it and showing him the message from Alex as she continues sifting through her drawers. He smiles, “A lot of movement, huh?” He laughs, “Okay, this is much easier to work with. Take a seat, love.” He stands and reaches a hand out to Casey, helping her up from the ground. She sits behind him on the edge of her bed, folding the clothes strung out around her. He goes straight to a simple red tank top in the back of her closet and rests it on her lap. She holds it up with a furrowed brow and then sets it back down as he continues searching. 

A couple moments later, he emerges from her closet with the remaining items. He dumps them in her lap, “take a look at this. Lots of movement, not too inappropriate if this isn’t a date, but just scandalous enough if it is.” 

She lifts up the items and stands, setting them on the bed one by one. The red tank top, a black lacy bralette, tight dark blue jeans, leather boots, and her leather jacket. She smiles, a twinge of relief running through her. 

----------

Five-forty-five rolled around faster than Casey had expected. Charlie was still with her, helping to keep her calm throughout the day and piece together the last details of her outfit. A light rap at Casey’s door sent violent shivers down her spine, her heart leaping out of her chest. Charlie rubbed her back and followed her to the door. She had sent Alex her full address, but had not anticipated her arriving at her front door. She’d never expected such gentlemanly behavior. 

When she opened the door, the sight before her eyes sent a wave of excitement through her chest, then stomach, then core. “Hi, Alex.”

Alex beamed, her cream colored purse slung over her shoulder. “Hi, you look great.” Her eyes moved over to Charlie’s figure, looming behind Casey like a protective older brother. 

Casey notices and steps out of his way. He steps forward and extends a hand to Alex, who meets him, shaking his hand. “Hi, I’m Charlie.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she greets, their hands leaving each other.

The inkling to say more is at the top of her throat, but he beats her to it. “Take good care of my friend tonight, I want her home by midnight,” a laugh escapes him as he places his hands on his hips. 

Casey closes her eyes, cringing, and pats him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Char,” she turns to Alex, who is still beaming at both of them. “Ready?” 

“When you are,” Alex responds, glancing at Charlie. 

“Have a good time ladies!” 

Casey, practically ushering Alex out of the door and down the hall turns to him, “I’ll see you later. Love you!” The door closes behind them and Casey can hear Charlie lock it as they walk down the hallway. Casey shoves her hands in her pockets as they walk side by side, her heart still racing and her cheeks red. “Sorry, he can be a little much sometimes.”

Alex chuckles, “don’t apologize. He seems nice,” Alex glances over her shoulder, scanning Casey’s body language. The language wasn’t the only thing she paid attention to, of course. Her body is delightfully complimented by the shade of red she adorns and how the tanktop and jeans clings to her figure. “He’s your friend?” 

They step into the elevator and Casey glances at Alex with a smile. “Oh yeah,” she takes a breath and a hand from her pocket, “he’s my best friend. We met during 1L orientation and thought that we were crushing on each other. Turns out, we’re both queer so. Best friends it is!” 

Alex laughed, her smile beaming at Casey. As Casey studies Alex’s face and body, she feels her heart stop for a moment and her breath leave her lungs. Alex turns and meets Casey’s eyes, captivating each other. “That sounds a lot like George and I,” she notes. 

Casey tilts her head, “Oh?” 

They step out of the elevator and Alex leads them out of the building, towards her car. A dark blue Lexus sedan is parked on the street and lights up as they approach. “Yeah, George and I met when I had orientation for the university. He’s affiliated with the Women’s Center which I was interested in volunteering with. We hit it off, especially when we started talking about our love lives.” 

Alex opened the passenger door, waving Casey into the car, “after you,” she guides. Casey, grins and thanks her as she slips into the car. In her mind, she starts screaming, ecstatic at the way their time is going so far. She hadn’t anticipated Alex being so warm and chivalrous, if anything she had wanted to be the chivalrous one. The more they spoke, the more she felt secure that this was indeed a date. 

Their conversation continues, delving more into their personal lives, specifically with friends and hopes. As they speak, Alex drives them downtown. The drive goes smoothly, their talking as fluent as it normally is. She parks them along the street, both of them getting out at the same time, conversation still going. Intrigue riddles Casey’s mind as she tries to guess what Alex has in store for them. She’s also shocked by how casual the date seems to be going, and judging herself for how she’d anticipated so much from Alex simply because of some internet searching. 

Ignorant to Casey’s internal monologue, Alex reaches to her side and takes Casey’s hand in her own. The sensation shocks Casey from herself, and she settles into Alex’s grip, their fingers coming together as the final piece of a puzzle. Alex leads her, walking a bit faster, to a food truck. The truck is a bright purple, its fluorescent lights bright on the side of the truck, illuminating the menu. 

“Do you like tacos?” Alex asks her as they pause, a few yards away from the truck and face each other. 

Casey narrows her eyes, “I do, why?” 

Alex beams, glancing at the truck as she speaks “This is my favorite taco place, tonight is their last night of the season.” She turns back towards Casey, catching her eyes again. A grin turns her lips, dimples present, making Alex’s heart swell, her face feeling feverish. “I thought,” she takes a sharp breath, “I would take one of my favorite people.” 

Casey’s tongue slips over her bottom lip, “me?” She asks, innocently. 

Alex blushes and laughs, looking down for a moment, “yes, Case.” She takes her hand again and brings her closer to the truck, getting in line. “What would you like?” 

The food is delightful, each of them getting three tacos and Alex insisting they get the chips and queso as well. Per her recommendation, they each have an agua fresca as well. While it has yet to be explicitly stated that this is a date, Casey firmly believes it to be the best one she’s ever been on. Her nerves have dissipated and she starts feeling flirtatious with Alex. Their hands reach across the table for gentle caresses, their feet brush against each other underneath the table, and their eyes never lose focus. 

When they finish, Casey takes the first opportunity to clean up for them, trying to beat Alex. Afterwards, Alex takes her hand once again and leads her down the street as daylight lowers further and further. The soft light of the evening and the moderate temperature are a dream for now. Casey is comfortable in her leather jacket, Alex is cool in her thin black t-shirt and jeans. Both of them dawn jewelry, complimenting their features. A couple of bands on Alex’s wrist and a few thin gold rings littered her fingers. Casey elected for a quaint silver choker, with a vertical onyx droplet in the center, and then silver rings on her fingers. While that jewelry was purposeful, she also has helix and conch piercings, silver rings latched with sapphire stones. 

Alex hadn’t noticed her piercings, as Casey made a point to hide them during school, fearing that they lacked professionalism. Seeing the piercings now leave Alex feeling curious about what else she doesn’t know about Casey. Questions swarmed her mind as they made their way inside the building. Alex approaches the counter first, checking them in, making a special point not to mention what activity they were checking in for. 

The representative disappears from the counter, telling them to wait. Alex leans against the countertop, elbow resting at the top as she turns to look at Casey, whose hands are back in her pockets. Casey’s stunning green eyes scan the venue, overwhelmed by the neon lights, the sound of arcade games being played, and the scent of alcohol. “What are we doing here?” she murmurs, her eyes returning to Alex who had been staring. 

A wide smile spreads on Alex’s face, “Just a little longer, Novak. Surely you can keep it in your pants until then,” Alex jokes. For a second, she worries the comment won’t land. 

Much to her relief, Casey chuckles, smiling brightly at her. “What am I supposed to do, Alex? You’ve kept me on ice for almost too long,” she pokes back. 

The representative reappears, “ready?” She asks Alex. Alex nods and makes eye contact with Casey, leading the way behind the rep. A bit of meandering and neon lit hallways led the way to a secluded room in the back of the venue. The rep opens the door and waves Alex and Casey inside. Casey looks around in wonder, her eyes drifting to the other side of the room where a machine stood. On the walls were bats of different sizes and shapes, helmets too. Casey’s jaw drops for a moment as the attendant comes into the room and shuts the door. 

Casey turns to Alex with excitement all over her features. Alex shares the same giddiness, elated that Casey is so pleased with the activity. After sharing a brief moment of eye contact, the attendant gives them instructions for the batting cages, informing them that the machine has three different speeds for the pitch of the balls. She advises them to go about batting one at a time to keep from accidentally hitting one another with the bats upon backswing. Satisfied with their instructions, the attendant leaves the couple for the evening. 

When the door closes, Casey lurches at Alex. She wraps her arms above Alex’s shoulders, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Alex, startled, wraps her arms around Casey’s frame and squeezes, her heart feeling hot with affection. The scent of Casey’s hair and cologne is now prominent as her nose hovers over Casey’s shoulder. Her lips burn with impulse, but she takes a deep breath and swallows the tension in her throat. 

Casey lets go, her hands sliding down Alex’s arms and catching her hands, squeezing them. Alex smiles, “happy birthday, Casey,” she tells her, her eyes wandering to her lips. 

Casey closes her eyes for a moment, sighing as she pushes down the desire to kiss Alex. “Thank you, this is the best birthday gift I’ve ever been given.” 

Alex blushes, unsure what to say next. She steps back, slowly withdrawing her hands and lays one on top of a bat handle. “Shall we?” Casey nods excitedly and reaches for the bats. She helps Alex choose one that would fit her, picking one for herself with ease. Together they choose their helmets and black grip gloves. Once they dawn their gear, Alex motions for Casey to go first. Casey shrugs and agrees, stepping into the cage and setting up the machine to its moderate setting. Stepping back to the mat, she gets into stance.

With her jewelry and leather jacket discarded, Alex tries to resist every urge to stare. While Casey’s back was to her, Alex allowed the urges to leak. She studied the way Casey’s biceps bent as she swung the bat. How her shoulder blades were pronounced in the tank top, the now visible lacy bralette complimenting her back. While Casey wasn’t buff, her muscles were toned and visible with every movement. Alex’s eyes lingered longest on the way Casey’s wrists became more vascular the harder she worked to hit every ball that came her way. 

“Your accuracy is impeccable,” Alex finally comments. Casey, shocked out of her zone, laughs. She set down her bat and moved along the side of the cage to go turn off the machine. Coming back, Alex could see the sweat beading on her forehead and biceps. Casey slides her helmet off as she makes eye contact with Alex through the fence, looking her up and down. 

“Have you ever gone to bat before?” Casey asks. 

Alex unintentionally hesitates to respond, her eyes glued to Casey’s chest for a moment. A subtle shake of her head, “no.” She chuckles nervously, “I haven’t.” 

Casey’s sultry look disappears and she steps out of the cage, extending a hand for Alex with a smile. “I can show you, then.” 

Alex’s heart starts beating so fast she can feel each pulse in her breasts and throat. She steps into the cage with her bat, trying to mimic Casey’s stance. Casey closes the cage, replacing her helmet and walking down to the machine, turning it back to its moderate setting. When she returns to Alex, she stands behind her, reaching a hand on either side of her. On the bat handle, Casey’s left hand holds the bottom, Alex’s stacked between as Casey’s right hand holds the bat on top of them. 

The machine began spitting balls, about thirty seconds between each pitch. “Now, don’t strangle it,” Casey began, her arms tight against Alex’s frame. “You just want to shake hands with it,” she angled Alex’s arms to hit the next ball. “Hello, Mr. Bat, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Casey jokes in a deeper and sillier voice. Alex laughs out loud at the voice and Casey draws their arms back, wacking the next ball as it sails towards them. 

The thwack pierces Alex’s ears, but she ignores it as she listens for Casey’s continued amusement. “Oh no no, Miss Cabot, the pleasure’s all mine,” they laugh together. Alex becomes painfully aware that Casey’s hips are pressed into her backside and how tightly Casey’s biceps are bound against her. She arches her back a little, pressing herself into Casey’s hips. Casey’s breath is hot against her neck and ear, sending excited shivers down her spine and a wet heat between her legs. 

A ball flies past, neither of them swinging. Casey continues coaching, “now, you’ll wanna do hips before hands, okay? Stride forward and turn,” she does the motions with her own hips against Alex’s backside, moving them through a swing. She repeats the motions, her left hand dropping to Alex’s hips and pressing her into the turn and stride. Knowing Casey can’t see, Alex blushes and smiles, hoping the touching never ends. “Hips, before hands, alright, Alex? Repeat after me,” she instructs. 

Alex turns her head towards Casey’s staring at her jawline and cheekbones, “Hips before hands,” she whispers. 

Casey glances at her and smiles before turning back to the machine as it spits another ball. “Now, we’ll keep our eye on the ball, and then we’re just gonna make contact,” Casey guides. They both wait in anticipation, Alex’s mind on the pressure against her back and heat between her legs. Together, Casey guides their swing, colliding again with the ball. 

“Good, good, Alex,” Casey praises. They do it again, “great, all the thinking and everyday concerns are fading away. All of the anxious nagging about how you probably shouldn’t have spent this much money on a student,” Casey begins teasing, “how you left a promising career with the DA in New York for a professor position…” Another thwack. “How your promising favorite student could get you in trouble with the school…” and another thwack. “And how you have an obscenely overdue Xvideos subscription - oh, sorry, that’s my problem, not yours.” 

Alex giggles loudly, making Casey’s heart leap and her hands burn with pleasure as another ball collides with the bat. “Shut up, Novak,” Alex tells her, laughing. The vibrations rattle their hands, but neither of them care because the other’s grip helps to absorb the sensation. Alex can feel Casey’s chest rise and fall against her back, her own heart still pounding at the touch along her body. 

Alex takes a breath, “I’m playing softball,” she asserts. Casey laughs as they crack one more ball. 

“I think you’ve got it then,” Casey steps away, her hands sliding past Alex’s hips, gripping them softly as she leaves Alex to bat for herself. 

Alex bites her lip, her mind lingering on the way that Casey’s hands felt against her hips. The way her arms felt against her own and how her body felt pressed against hers. Casey stands back, arms crossed as she watches Alex take the next swing. She misses the next one, grunting in frustration. Casey chuckles and steps back to her, resting her hands on her hips. 

“Remember, hips before hands…” she coaches, her hands sliding away as the next ball comes barreling towards Alex. A crack sounds as her bat collides. She lowers the bat to cheer for herself. 

“Fuck yea!” She shouts. 

“Good job, baby!” Casey shouts back. Alex whips around, a smile on her face as her jaw lowers. Her awe is cut short when her vision goes black.