#what gives ladies! that’s all i wanna know!

[ssentimentals]

scoups 15 + 13 (fluff) prompt please?? i love your writing btw <3

hi cheri! thank you for your kind words :) and thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'do you like my new dress/suit?' - 'you're mine.'

'can this even be called a dress? it's just... a tiny piece of fabric,' you frown, turning whatever you have in your hands and showing it off to seungcheol. 'are you sure?'

'i want to show you off,' seungcheol shrugs like his words are not making your heart beat faster. 'i think it looked pretty, so i got it. if it doesn't fit we can just return it, babe. but i think you'll look amazing in it.' seeing how you're still doubtful, he leans in, pecking your lips. 'just wanna show everyone that you're mine, yeah? so try it on for me, please.'

still not sure, you nod. 'okay. turn around though.'

seungcheol chuckles. 'i think i saw everything and got very intimate with each part of your body, no?'

'cheol!' you squeal, hitting his shoulder. 'turn around i said!'

he laughs but complies, giving you at least some image of privacy as you change from your gym clothes to this. it takes you a while to understand how this dress works due to many cuts in it but eventually you manage to pull it on. it is... daring. definitely not something what you'd choose yourself and surely not something your ex-boyrfiend would ever approve. but seungcheol is different; seungcheol wants people to look at you, gains sick satisfaction from knowing that all they can do is just look, not touch. it makes your heart flutter in your chest, if you are honest. with a deep inhale, you clear your throat, trying to go for a fake cheery voice: 'i'm done, you can turn. what do you think? do you like my new dress?'

the way seungcheol licks his lips as he looks you up and down gives you a very clear answer to your question, but he is kind enough to voice out his thoughts as well: 'baby. baby, you look good enough to eat.'

it makes you smile and relax a little; confidence slowly comes back to you. 'yeah?'

'yeah.' seungcheol steps closer, gazing at you like he doesn't know where to look. 'gorgeous, my girl. utterly gorgeous.'

you smile, leaning to his touch. 'enough to make everyone else jealous?'

seungcheol's eyes sparkle at this and he grins, proud. 'more than enough, my lady. more than enough.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[marcelloshdz]

couples quiz

summary: you and marcello are the featured guests on the upcoming episode of the GQ "couples quiz." requested by anonymous. marcello x female!singer reader. this ended up being quite long, but i hope you enjoy! <3

“and there we go! you look stunning.” your makeup artist said to you.

“thanks to you.” you smiled at them. you were on set with GQ, getting ready to film a video with them. they’d invited you and marcello you partake in one of their “couples quiz” videos, and the two of you jumped at the opportunities.

you were led to the set, taking your seat as you waited for marcello to join you. he smiled at you has he walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before taking his seat across from you.

“you guys ready?” the producer asked, and you both nodded. 

“so ready.” you said with a smile, as some members from the crew handed you your question cards.

they counted down, and began rolling, you and marcello putting on your best faces and beginning the video.

“hey there, i’m y/n l/n,”

“and i’m marcello hernández,”

“and this is the GQ couples quiz.” you said in unison.

“alright, who wants to start?” you asked. 

“ladies first.” marcello said with a smile.

“well then, alright.” you settled the question cards in your hands, reading him the first one. “okay, this is a simple one to get us started. what is my favorite nickname for you?” you asked. 

“you call me cello a lot. or cellito, if you’re feeling flirtier than normal. but you’re also very heavy on the babe or baby. sometimes honey, which i personally love.”

“hmm, good to know.” you laughed before moving on to the next question. “oh, this is a good one. what was the first song i ever played for you?”

“i don’t want to give too much away, because as far as i know, it’s unreleased, yeah?” he asked, and you nodded.

“it is.” 

“but, i can say that you wrote it shortly after we made it official. so, almost four years ago. and, it’s about me.” he said, with a smirk to the camera.

“that is correct. at this point, i’m not sure i wanna release it, and instead just keep it between the two of us.” you said to the camera. you then moved on to the next question. “what is my favorite date we’ve been on?” 

“ooh, i know this one real well, because you tell this story all the time to people we meet.” he laughed, and you blushed. “it was when we were first dating, we were both in LA for work, and had coinciding days off. i took you to griffith park, we had a picnic, and we made friendship bracelets for each other with our initials on them. then, after lunch, we drove up mulholland, parked at one of the overlooks, and laid on the hood of our car while we watched the sunset over the city. it was very romantic. that was the night i asked you to be my girlfriend.” 

“i never told you this, but i’m sure i was already falling in love with you at that point. it was only like, a month or so after we started hanging out and talking, but i was already locked in.” 

“honestly, so was i.” marcello said, echoing your sentiment with a smile.

“next question; what is my favorite sketch of yours?” 

“you always tell me you have multiple favorites, and they change like, every month.” he laughed before answering.

“that is true, but i do have one all time favorite. one that i, without question, would top tier marcello sketches. and we’re not talking update features, because i love all of those. just live sketches.” you explained.

“okay, that helps me a bit. i’m gonna go with either fusion scientist, or the age of discovery.” he said.

“it is fusion scientist, but i’m only gonna give you half a point because you hesitated.”

“aw man.” he laughed. 

“although, i do also love the age of discovery. there’s something about fusion scientist  that just always gets me. i had genuine tears in my eyes the first time i watched it, and am still bitter it was cut for time.”  you clarified.

“that one was really fun to perform. it was so ridiculous and goofy, but i loved it.” he explained. 

“and thats why i love it too.” you said. “alright, next question. oh, this is a good one; what is my favorite gift you’ve given me?” you finished the question, and watched his eyes flit to your hands, landing on your ring finger on your left hand. he reached out to you, and you placed your hand in his, smiling as he pressed a kiss to the ring.

“this right here.” he said as you held your hand out to the camera for a close up. “i got you that ring on our first anniversary. it’s our birthstones in a heart shaped setting.” 

“not only is it my favorite gift you’ve given me, but i think it’s my favorite gift i’ve ever gotten, ever.” you said. you finished out your questions, tallying up marcello’s score. “alright, we are sitting at a nice round 20 points.” you said to the camera. 

“well, good for me.” he said with a laugh. “alright, my turn. first up, what sports did i play growing up?” he asked you.

“soccer was your main sport, and you played it throughout high school and college. but you also played baseball, and dabbled in golf, and sometimes fishing?”

“wow. yes to all of those. um, i don’t think i want to play this game anymore.” he laughed. 

“hey, we’re only one question in. don’t get too discouraged.”

“next question; who has been my favorite host to work with so far on snl?”

“either pedro or benito.” you answered, and he nodded. “those were really big episodes for you, and i know you had a good time getting to write and work on pretty good sketches during those episodes.” 

“those were both really good, and i enjoyed them both a lot. but, if i had to pick, i would pick benito over pedro.”

“oh, tea.” you gasped through a laugh.

“only because of the age of discovery sketch. that sketch being entirely in spanish, and all the love we got on it, it made me really proud. pedro was also part of that episode, so that still counts.” he explained. “what is my favorite food?” he asked.

“anything cuban or dominican. chuletas, tostones, literally anything else. you’re very easy to please.” you answered immediately. “c’mon give me a challenge.”

“yeah i should’ve skipped that one.” he laughed. “next one. oh, here’s a good one. what was i wearing on our first date?”

“you were wearing a dark blue cardigan, over a white t-shirt, with blue jeans, and white sneakers.” you answered. “i had a picture of us from that night as my phone wallpaper for a long time, it’s practically burned into my brain at this point.” you said. “do you remember what i was wearing?” you asked him

“you were wearing a black, like, lacy top, with a white skirt and black platform loafers.” 

“actually,”

“what?!” he said loudly, feigning offense.

“no, i’m just kidding. that was right.” you laughed.

“i was about to be so mad.” he laughed. “alright, next one; where was our first kiss?” he asked.

“our first kiss was on the beach in miami. you were home, visiting family and some friends. you asked if i wanted to come see you, and of course, being as down bad as i already was, i immediately jumped on a plane with zero hesitation. we had just finished lunch, and we were hanging out on the beach near where you grew up. we were sitting there in silence, listening to the waves crash on the shore, when we turned to each other, and we kissed. i remember it being really awkward, and us almost missing?”

“i do remember that as well.” he laughed. “but look at us now, so it must not have been too terrible.”

“it was a first kiss, so you kinda expect it to be awkward. but it was good in the long run.” you said, and marcello nodded, smiling at you. before continuing through the next couple of questions.

“alright, i think this is my last one.”

“and, not to brag, but i am only one point behind you.” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“well, then this will count for two points.” he said, clearing his throat. “which one of us made the first move?”

“you did.”

“wow, that was fast.”

“you did! we were at an snl after party, after dua lipa’s episode. which, i was invited to by her, by the way.” you said, matter-of-factly. “we were both at the bar, waiting for our drinks, and made small talk. we hung out for a bit, and by the end of the night, you were already asking for my number. barely two days later, you were asking me to go out.” 

“and you accepted without hesitation.” 

“well, yes, but this isn’t about me.” you teased, and marcello rolled his eyes at you.

“well, that was my last question. our final scores are 21 to 20, y/n only getting extra points because i played multiple sports growing up.” 

“and for that, i thank you.” you laughed.

you filmed the outro for the video, saying good bye and thanking the future audience for watching. there was a loud “CUT!” from behind the camera, and the producers and crew were thanking you and marcello for such a fun episode.

“thanks for having us! this was a lot of fun.” marcello said, and you nodded in agreement. the two of you headed out to your car, making your way to a nearby restaurant for lunch. you got your food, and sat down at a table, replaying the events of the afternoon. 

“we should do more things like that. i know we pride ourselves on having quite a private relationship, but it was a lot of fun.” marcello said to you.

“it was! but i feel like youre just suggesting that so you can redeem yourself and let the people know that you know me better than i know you.” you said to him. 

“no, why would you ever think that?” he said sarcastically. you just laughed and shook your head. the two of you finished your lunch, enjoying your meal and being with each other. truthfully, marcello knew you better than you knew yourself, and vice versa. and that made you happier than you could ever put into words.

[mymoodwriting]

Royal Blood

Female!Reader x Alpha!Seonghwa

Genre: A/B/O, Royalty

Warning: Solitude, Anxiety, Late Nights, Sleep Deprivation, Promises, Manipulation, Star-Gazing, Spacing Out, Swords, Death Threats

Words: 5.9K

Chapter Three

(Prev//Next) (@starillusion13 @yizhou-time @hannahdinse8)

Prompt: You were a princess in name alone. Unable to perform any of the duties that come with the title. It seemed to be your destiny to live a quiet life. That is until you met someone who refused to see you silenced. Perhaps your fate was wrong all along.

“I’ve never been given flowers before…”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly at the flowers Seonghwa gave you. In the morning you looked around for a vase, getting some water and setting up the flowers by your window. You made sure they were soaking up the sun, watching them with a smile on your face. Although despite the joy they brought you they did also make you worry. These flowers weren’t ones you grew yourself, so surely someone would question where they came from. You weren’t sure what kind of excuse you’d give, or what would be believable. Then again you made yourself anxious for no reason.

When your ladies or eunuch came by they merely did their duties. You tried to hide your flowers, but it made no difference. As far as you knew they didn’t even notice them. To a degree it made you sad the flowers weren’t important enough to be noticed, but at the same time it should have been expected. You lived such a quiet life, the little things never stood out. At least you didn’t have to worry about hiding them and could admire them all the time. What you were really nervous about was Seonghwa. He said he would visit you again, and you excitedly waited for that time. The first two nights after his visit you didn’t expect him, but on the third you stayed up late.

You’d sit at your window, enjoying the night breeze and carefully tending to your gifted flowers. You’ve been doing your best to take care of them and make them last. It was easy to pass the time as you stared up at the stars, even starting to doze off. At some point you fell asleep, startled awake when you hit your head on the window sill. It was still dark out, but the moon was no longer up in the sky. The sun would be peeking over the horizon soon enough. It seemed that Seonghwa couldn’t make a visit tonight, but you weren’t upset. He was a busy person so perhaps tomorrow. You shut your window and went to bed. Of course you were tired by the time the sun rose, but you didn’t mind and just pushed through.

No one was around so there was no issue with taking a nap during the day. After all, that next night you stayed up again, waiting for your secret visitor, but no one came to see you. It did hurt, but you really couldn’t get your hopes up too much. Seonghwa surely had a lot of new responsibilities that kept him occupied, and a late night visit meant sacrificing his sleep. You napped during the day once more, and wondered if you should stay up late again or not. Ultimately you decided to sleep. He’d surely come visit you eventually, so you just had to wait. What really hurt your heart was the fact the flowers he brought you were wilting. The little reminder of him that you had was fading away.

“Princess… pst… y/n… are you awake…?”

“Hm…”

You groaned and slowly opened your eyes, looking around your room. Eventually your gaze turned towards your window, seeing a blurry figure waving. You didn’t need clear vision to know who was there, a smile appearing on your lips. You crawled over to your window, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hello, I’m sorry I had to wake you, but I really wanted to see you.”

“Hm… it’s nice to see you too.”

“Did you miss me?”

“I’ve been waiting…”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Seonghwa chuckled. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re busy.”

“I don’t wanna be too busy to see you.”

“Then tell me about your days. I wanna know what a scholar does around the palace.”

“It’s very boring stuff.”

“I’m confined to my quarters all day. Anything outside these walls is interesting to me.”

“Very well.”

Seonghwa indulged your request and told you how he spent his days. He admitted he wanted to see you sooner, but his father swamped him with work. Once he was done with lectures he had tasks and different assignments to complete. He had to get through those first before he could even have a moment to himself. As tiresome as they were, they did take him all over the palace and gave him a chance to introduce himself to other officials.

“It sounds like you’ve seen more of the palace in the few days you’ve been here than I have my whole life.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“You forget I’m also a lady. I doubt I have any business in many of the places you’ve been.”

“Still, this is your home.”

“It doesn’t feel like it… then again, I don’t think I know what a home feels like…”

“We’ll work on that.”

Seonghwa reached over to gently pet your head, continuing on as he told you about the things he did. You eagerly listened, loving the stories, but eventually Seonghwa noticed you dozing off. 

“I see someone is sleepy.”

“I’m not… I can stay up…”

“Sh, it’s okay, I’ll come again to tell you more stories. Although, before I go.” Seonghwa revealed a bouquet of fresh flowers. “These are for you. I’ll take the old ones.”

“No, wait.”

“Hm?”

“I wasn’t going to throw the old ones away… I wanted to bury them in my garden… I don’t want any gift from you to leave me…”

“Ah, how sweet. I’ll bury them for you on my way out then, but you must go to bed now.”

“Fine… can I at least make another request before you go?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t… don’t make me wait so long… please…”

“I shall do my best princess, but you know-”

“I do… as long as you return before the flowers wilt, then I won’t be mad.”

“I see, I think I can work with that.” 

Seonghwa grabbed the flower vase, taking out the old flowers and putting in the new ones. He made sure to arrange them nicely, noticing your gaze on him. There was a nice little twinkle in your eyes, one that was only for him.

“There you are. I shall see you again soon, my princess, good night.”

“Good night, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa stuck around until you were tucked under your bed sheets, and he could be sure you’d be sleeping soon. He made his way through your garden, using the moonlight as his guide. Once he found a good place he dug a hole, burying the flowers he had given you before just as promised. Although he did take a petal, wanting a token of this gift as well.

♦♦♥♦♦

“The Crown Prince is here.”

Yunho was doing his best to see you, wanting to make sure you were alright, and also giving himself a break from studying. Although when he came to see you he immediately became worried. You were laying in bed, food half eaten. He quickly knelt down at your side, gently coaxing you awake.

“Y/n… y/n, wake up.”

“Hm… Yunho…?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…” You sat up, yawning. “What are you doing here?”

“Paying you a visit, but why are you in bed? Do you feel ill?”

“No, no, I’m just sleepy, that’s all. Look, I ate, and took my medicine.”

“You should have eaten everything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Have you not been sleeping well?”

“I have. I’m fine, Yunho. There’s not much for me to do, so sometimes a nap is nice.”

“Hm… I’m not sure if I believe you.”

“Then call Yeosang, but I’m perfectly fine.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling over your food table, deciding to finish up what was left so Yunho could worry less. He happily watched you, reaching over to pet your head and getting a smile out of you too. While you ate he looked around the room, thinking of things to get you so you don’t get so bored, but then his eyes landed on something peculiar.

“Where did you get those flowers?” Yunho asked. “You don’t grow those in your garden.”

You froze mid-bite, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You were trying not to panic, knowing your heartbeat could give you away. Despite all the time you had you never really figured out what excuse to give when asked.

“Did one of your court ladies bring them?”

“… yeah… I wanted something different… maybe I’ll ask for these flower seeds in the future.”

“I see. They’re nice. Should I send you flowers?”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

“Something else perhaps. New flower seeds for your garden?”

“I’d prefer new paints. It’s what I mostly do to pass the time.”

“Very well.”

Yunho stayed with you for a while longer, wanting to make sure you’d be alright and not sleep away your day. Even if you said you were fine he couldn’t help but be concerned. So of course he sent word to Yeosang to pay you a visit later. He had to be sure you were okay at any given time. Even though you had requested paints he did like the idea of sending you flowers, although he wanted to make sure they weren’t ones you had in your garden. He thought to send Jongho out to get some, but the boy let him know he didn’t have much knowledge of flowers, let alone which one’s the princess kept in her garden. It seemed that Yunho would have to venture out of the palace for that, so he’d have to plan for that in the future.

♦♦♥♦♦

“I feel like we’ve been seeing each other more often these days.”

“Does that upset you, princess?”

“Not at all. If anything, I feel bad for wasting your time.”

“I’m a royal physician after all.” Yeosang reminded. “It’s my duty to look after the royal family.”

“Well, once again, I assure you I’m fine, but my brother needs to be sure.”

“There’s no harm in that.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s ease his worries. I’m told you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

“Not really… I just want to take naps during the day.”

“That’s new behavior for you.”

“So? It’s not concerning, is it?”

“Not at all, but it does sound like you’re not sleeping well at night.”

“I am.”

“Which I am inclined to believe. Medically speaking, nothing in regards to your health should be affecting your sleep schedule, but I’ll check just to be sure.”

“Go ahead.”

You were used to Yeosang’s check-ups, especially as they were happening more than usual. Although you did need to figure out a way to stop making your brother worry. It seemed that every little thing about you was cause for concern, which was far from the truth. Staying up late at night and sleeping during the day shouldn’t be a problem to him.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re not sleeping at night?” Yeosang asked. “I know there’s an answer.”

“… sleeping during the day just passes the time faster. I don’t have much to do anyway… besides, star-gazing is really nice.”

“I see. You’re not a nocturnal creature though, so you shouldn’t mess with your sleep like that.”

“I’ll do better.”

“I hope so, but just in case I’ll leave you with some sleeping aids. Take one before bed with water and you’ll be good.”

“Thanks, Yeosang. You can let Yunho know I’m doing okay.”

“I will. Now, since I’m here, is there anything you want to discuss?”

“About what?”

“Anything, really, but if you say you’re good then I’ll be off.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you next time.”

“Be well, princess.”

“I’ll do my best.”

♦♦♥♦♦

If Seonghwa truly had his way he’d see you every night, but that was a luxury he’d have to work hard for. Even if he had his own plans and desires, he still had his title to uphold. For now at least. So there were things that were expected of him as a scholar and a Park. Not to mention he knew his father would be keeping a close eye on his progress. Moreso to make sure he didn’t do anything to embarrass him or the Park family. Still, the thought of seeing you and winning your favor was all the motivation he needed. He knew you eagerly awaited his visit every night, which ultimately worked to help his plans.

Once he had a good routine every other second or third night he’d make the journey to your quarters. Each time he’d happily coax you awake, loving the twinkle in your eyes as you awoke to his call and realized he was there. You were so well behaved and eager for his company, Seonghwa knew he practically had you in the palm of his hand, but he would remain a gentleman. You needed care and love above all else. So he always made sure to bring fresh flowers, not wanting to repeat himself, nor give you anything that you had in your own garden. He had stuck around a while longer once you had gone to bed a few nights prior, wanting to get familiar with the space you called your own.

He felt your friendship was growing nicely, and as things progressed he did more. One night in particular he had brought over a blanket, wanting to lay under the stars with you. It provided you with some fresh air, and company. Seonghwa was more than happy to talk about the stars and the things he knew about them. It seemed you were fascinated with astrology, keeping your eyes glued to the stars while Seonghwa’s gaze remained on you. By now he had the temptation to kiss you, but he had to hold himself back. Time was on his side for now, and he could be patient. Of course late night visits could only last so long. While talking Seonghwa realized you were curled up next to him, dozing off. He chuckled and softly pet your head.

“I see it’s time for you to get to bed.”

“… it won’t be warm…”

“Shall I go with you then? I can stay until your bed warms up and you’re asleep.”

“… yes, please…”

“Alright, but you have to get up first.”

A pouty whine escaped your lips, but still, you had to get up. You sat up with Seonghwa’s help, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes. The two of you went back to your room, Seonghwa making sure you were under your blankets before laying down beside you. He gently moved to spoon you, wanting to keep his word and warm you up. Although he had to be careful not to fall asleep himself. Late night visits took a toll on him too, but he could trade a good night’s sleep for this. He hummed for a moment, listening to your steady heartbeat.

“You know… we should try daytime visits.”

“… that’s dangerous… I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble…”

“I worry more about you, but I do really want to see you bask in the sunlight. To tend to your garden together. Perhaps even share a meal.”

“I don’t… sorry…”

“Hm? Why are you apologizing?”

You rolled over to face Seonghwa, seeing his curious eyes, but you could also see the exhaustion. You could get away with napping as you had nothing else to do, but Seonghwa didn’t share in that privilege.

“You must be tired during the day…”

“Ah, it’s okay. I function well on a handful of hours of sleep. I’d rather see you and lose some sleep than not see you at all.”

“But those short nights will catch up to you eventually…”

“I can handle it.”

“Do you want some sleeping aids?”

“Sleeping aids? Why do you have those?”

“When my brother caught me taking a nap one morning he got worried and had Yeosang look me over. He’s my doctor, and he gave me some sleeping aids, saying I shouldn’t mess with my sleep schedule.”

“Ah, are you saying I’m bad for your health?”

“No, not at all.” You chuckled. “My brother just worries about every little thing when it comes to me. Anyway, I don’t use sleeping aids, but it sounds like they’d work better for you.”

“Hm, perhaps they might.”

“Take them.”

You got up and brought over the little box Yeosang had given you before. You held it out to Seonghwa, who took it and examined the contents.

“He said you’re supposed to take one before bed with some water.”

“I’ll give them a try then.”

“Good. I want you to sleep well.”

“As long as I get to see you I know I’ll have sweet dreams. Now come on, you do need to sleep.”

Seonghwa tucked you back in under your blanket, humming to help soothe you. It wasn’t long before you were fast asleep, all warm and comfy. Seonghwa would have loved to stay longer, but that ran the risk of getting caught. He carefully moved away, being careful not to wake you. He took the box of sleeping aids and snuck out the window quietly closing it on his way out, then gathering up the blanket he brought. He still wanted to try and see you during the day but that would be a conversation for another time. 

♦♦♥♦♦

Hongjoong was always rather nervous as he stood guard outside the princess’ quarters, not wanting to get caught, or worse, get Seonghwa in trouble. He was only ever at ease once Seonghwa returned to his own quarters and turned in for the night. That’s when he got his much needed downtime, although on this particular night that wouldn’t be the case. As Hongjoong got ready to sleep himself he was approached by a familiar face. Words didn’t need to be spoken, so Hongjoong merely followed the other, soon finding himself a guest of Minister Park.

“Minister Park, how may I be of service?”

“There’s no need for such formalities. Sit, I merely wanted to speak with you.”

“Of course, minister.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy keeping an eye on my son, but knowing you are with him puts me at ease.”

“I’m glad to be of service.”

“There hasn’t been any trouble, has there?”

“Not at all. Lord Park does well to maintain the honor of the Park family. All those who meet him are impressed by him and eager to build a relationship.”

“I see. He must be very busy then. So he’s no longer making late night visits to the princess?”

“…”

“He’s persistent.”

“Lord Park focuses on his duties first and foremost. His visits to the princess are only when he has time. He knows what the real priority is.”

“Hm… then perhaps it’s best to remind him who he is.”

♦♦♥♦♦

Seonghwa truly enjoyed being in the palace. It felt right, and gave him peace of mind. So he had no trouble stepping out into the nearby villages, happy to mingle with the locals knowing where he’d return to in the end. Today he wanted to do something special, wanted to try something new. Of course Hongjoong was against the idea.

“Visiting the princess during the day is very risky.” Hongjoong reminded. “You’re already bust as it is.”

“I have more time during the day. Besides, outside of meals and basic things, the princess is alone. There are many opportune times to visit her.”

“You could get caught at any moment.”

“That’s why I have you, and if you need any help we can ask Wooyoung.”

“Seonghwa-”

“I won’t do anything until I have a proper plan, so you don’t need to worry.”

“I still don’t think you should do this. Why don’t you just focus on your work in the palace? You have an incredible career ahead of you.”

“One I don’t care for. I can do better for this nation and you know it.”

“Seonghwa, you have to know that what you’re after is insane. If anyone-”

“I’m going to need you to run a little errand for me today.”

Hongjoong has wanted to dissuade Seonghwa from his plan of courting the princess since he was first told of it. He had been trying, but his pleas were falling on deaf ears. Of course many times when the subject of the princess was brought up, Seonghwa was quick to change things when he no longer wanted to hear Hongjoong try to reason with him. 

“What kind of errand?”

“I want you to deliver something to the princess.”

“What!?”

“She’s never been outside the palace, so I want to send her something unique. These vendors sell all kinds of little treats I’m sure she’s never had. Although I should probably speak with her physician to make sure I don’t send her anything that might make her sick.”

“I doubt her physician would share such information.”

“I have my ways of getting answers… today I want to send her little cakes, what do you think of these?”

“Seonghwa, this is also risky.”

“When I first wanted to apologize to the princess you suggested I send her a letter, what’s so different about this that now you disapprove?”

“I-”

“Just sneak into her quarter’s after her court ladies leave her lunch. Can you do that?”

Hongjoong sighed. “Yes, I can.”

“Good. I’ll take these then and write her a letter.”

Seonghwa paid for the cakes, eager to return to the palace and send off his gift. Although as soon as he was back he was approached by his father’s guard. He told the guard he was busy, but that wasn’t an acceptable answer. It seems his gift would have to wait till later.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Your Highness, the King requests your presence in the throne room.”

“Right now? Is there a reason why?”

“One was not stated, but we should not keep the King waiting.”

“Agreed.”

Yunho was rather surprised by the request. Even before the most recent events his father was not one to call on him so suddenly without reason. He couldn’t help this uneasy feeling but he’d have to face it regardless. He made his way to the throne room, his arrival being announced and then stepping inside. He expected his father to be alone, but instead he was met with some guests, and familiar ones too.

“Crown Prince, I don’t suppose you remember Lord Park Seonghwa, he is Minister Park’s son.”

“I do. I heard of his return and the two of us reacquainted ourselves.”

“That’s good. Since Lord Park has studied outside the palace he’d likely have good insight for you, so building a relationship would be wise.”

“I understand, your Majesty.”

Yunho knew the two of them would likely be pushed together by their fathers, but he didn’t expect this so soon. Still, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with rekindling an old friendship. A few more things were mentioned but Yunho and Seonghwa were soon dismissed.

“How have you been adjusting to the palace?” Yunho asked. “It must be very different to the way you lived before.”

“It’s not too difficult to adapt, your highness.”

“I suppose this is still technically your home.”

“It always has been.”

“Come. We should talk in a more comfortable setting.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Things were a bit awkward between the two. Yunho would have preferred to build this relationship on his own, but there was no harm in getting to know each other sooner. If anything Yunho could help Seonghwa out as he settled into things at the palace. He brought Seonghwa over to a quiet place in the royal garden. Those from their entourage kept a few steps away and out of sight.

“I honestly thought you’d visit throughout the years, but I never saw you again until now.”

“I wanted to, but my father rejected the idea every time I brought it up. So eventually I stopped asking.”

“You’re back now though.”

“It was my father who requested I return, well, more like ordered me too. He sent me away and brought me back. I still don’t understand why.”

“Perhaps it was all for this.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve lived and studied outside the palace, something I could never do. Together we’d surely be able to take care of the nation. Just like our fathers have.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

For a moment the two just sat in silence, letting the sounds of nature fill in the empty space. Their fathers would surely expect them to spend more time together going forward, but maybe not right now.

“I’m assuming your father brought you to the throne room and interrupted your day.”

“More or less.”

“Then I won’t keep you too long. Feel free to stop by my library when you like. We should see each other more often and I would enjoy hearing some stories from your time outside the palace.”

“I’ll make an effort to see you at least once a week, your highness.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Seonghwa excused himself, but Yunho remained in the garden for a while longer. He thought back to his childhood, and the times he and Seonghwa used to play together. He wondered if they could actually rekindle an old friendship. His father and Minister Park got along well, and the nation thrived. He wanted to do right by the people as well when he became king, and Seonghwa was meant to help with that. Although his thoughts soon drifted to his studies. Besides his desires he had other things to consider, and he was nowhere near making a proper decision.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Seonghwa, are you alright?”

Hongjoong was certainly worried when Seonghwa was summoned and wound up in the throne room. He waited anxiously outside, and only got more nervous when the Crown Prince arrived. He feared the worst, but was greatly relieved when Seonghwa stepped out unharmed. Although the fact he was accompanying the Crown Prince was odd. Now that their little gathering was over Seonghwa was clearly upset.

“He did this on purpose.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My father has been making sure I have my hands full with my studies and tasks, trying to make sure I’m too busy to do anything else. Clearly that wasn’t enough so he brought me before the King and Crown Prince. He knows if I refuse them it not only looks bad on the family, but most of all me. He’d have me disowned and exiled from the palace immediately, which would ruin my plans. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

“Then for now you must comply with his wishes.”

“If I want to remain in the palace, yes.”

“Perhaps your father doesn’t have ill intentions and is merely trying to help you. The Park family name is respected and you have a bright future ahead of you as-”

“An advisor? No, a servant, better yet a slave. I’ve seen what this nation is like and it’s time for a change.”

“Seonghwa, don’t speak like that. If someone hears you-”

“You may not have studied history as much as I have, but I can tell you that the Jeong family has been in power for too long.”

“If you want the throne so bad why don’t you just challenge the King?” Hongjoong snapped. “Or wait until the Crown Prince ascends, why involve the princess? You’re playing with her heart and manipulating her for your own benefit! Your father is trying to help you and remind you of what’s important!”

“My father… what did you tell him?”

“What?”

“The other night I was looking for you and saw you walking off with my father’s guard, now what did you tell him?”

“I didn’t-”

“No wonder he pulled such a stunt today. He needed to add to my workload to keep me away from my own goals!”

“Seonghwa, you-”

“Get lost.”

“What?”

“Get lost! I don’t need a traitor like you at my side.”

“I serve the Park family, Seonghwa, and that includes you. It’s my job to protect you from all kinds of danger, especially while in the palace.”

“I don’t need protection here, I need a friend, someone I can trust, and I mistakenly thought that was you. Now get out of my sight!”

Seonghwa took back the little bag of cakes Hongjoong had been holding onto, storming off, but Hongjoong followed without hesitation.

“Seonghwa, you’re being ridiculous, you-”

All of a sudden Seonghwa stopped in his tracks and turned around. He startled Hongjoong, distracting him as he reached for the boy’s sword and unsheathed it. The tip of the blade pointed at Hongjoong’s throat, keeping him frozen in place.

“If you’re a servant of the Park family then you should know by now I intend to make my own path. I don’t need a guard, I don’t need you, Hongjoong. I told my father to stay out of my way, and the same applies to you. Do not show your face to me again unless you are prepared to die.”

Seonghwa threw the sword to the ground and walked away, this time Hongjoong did not follow. He merely stayed put, watching the other leave, uncertain of his own future.

♦♦♥♦♦

Seonghwa couldn’t bring himself to see you, not after his day had fallen apart. As far as he was concerned everything that had happened so far would have no effect on his plans, but it would just complicate things. The little cakes he had gotten you were now cold, and he wanted you to enjoy them while they were fresh. He’d have to make another trip outside the palace and plan accordingly in order to deliver them himself. For now he just retired to his own quarters, needing some peace.

A few days later he went to visit you at night, keeping to his original promise of seeing you before the flowers died. Despite everything that twinkle in your eyes shined bright, like a beacon of light in the darkness. You loved star gazing, but tonight he merely wanted to hold you in his arms. Hongjoong’s words rang in his head since they were true, but not entirely, not anymore. He thought he could trust him, but he should have known better. You can’t really trust anyone in the palace. As he was lost in thought he was suddenly pulled back to reality by a hand running through his hair. His gaze met yours, seeing the curious and worried look in your eyes.

“Are you alright, Seonghwa? You seem… distant tonight.”

“Apologies. I have a lot on my mind.”

“You must really be busy.”

“Indeed I am.”

“Then… I won’t hold you to your previous promise anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to come before the flowers wilt… I can wait for you, however long that takes.”

“Princess, you don’t need to say such things.”

“You’re busy in the palace, and have many responsibilities to uphold. You’re also the son of Minister Park, there must be quite the expectations on your shoulders. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“Y/n.” Seonghwa reached over to cup your cheeks. “You’re not a burden to me. Seeing you brings me much joy, and it’s the best remedy after a long day. I’m still getting used to everything, so I apologize for being so distant.”

“I can understand you have your priorities but… I must ask…”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Why… why do you care about me? Why did you approach me? Why do you sacrifice and put yourself in danger to see me?”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “I wanted to see what had become of you after all these years… but also… I know what it’s like to be alone when there are so many people around you. To be at arms length from your parents… it may not really be my place, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Are you alone in the palace?”

“It seems I am… besides you of course.”

“But you have your father, and guard.”

“Not really, not anymore.”

“… I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know the palace is a lonely place, which is all the more reason to come see you. I want to keep our promise, and I want to see you during the day.”

“Seonghwa, you know-”

“I do, I do, we’ll talk about this more some other time. Let’s just enjoy the present.”

Seonghwa pulled you closer, wanting to keep you wrapped up in his arms, safe and sound. He hummed softly and closed his eyes, listening to your steady heartbeat, providing him with comfort. He was slowly dozing off, a lot of exhaustion catching up to him, but then he heard a tapping on the window. His eyes snapped open, immediately on alert. For a second all he caught was the hilt of a sword, and then he noticed the slivers of sunlight in the sky. He had stayed for too long. Thankfully it seemed that you hadn’t woken up, and he’d do nothing to disturb your sleep. Seonghwa carefully pulled himself away from you, biting his lip instead of kissing your head. He made his way out, careful to be quiet and not be seen.

“Thank you, Wooyoung. I’m sorry I must have fallen asleep at some point and lost track of time.”

As Seonghwa thanked Wooyoung for being his look out he saw the boy shaking his head, gesturing to someone behind Seonghwa. A scowl quickly appeared on Seonghwa’s face and he drew out Wooyoung’s sword. Although when he turned around, ready to keep his word, he saw Hongjoong on his knees, bowing his head as he held up his own sword. For a moment there was silence and then Hongjoong dared to speak.

“I was wrong, my lord. I am not a servant of the Park family, only yours. Whatever you desire, whatever becomes of you, I wish to stand by your side as a protector, but most of all a friend. The palace is a dangerous place and you should not traverse it alone. If you’ll have me… I shall serve you until my dying breath. If I cannot do that for you then I ask you to keep your word. I am prepared to die.”

Hongjoong raised up his sword higher, still keeping his head bowed. Silence once again filled the air, the sounds of nature waking up, of a new day, began to take over the quiet morning. Seonghwa returned Wooyoung’s sword, stepping towards Hongjoong and taking the blade presented to him.

“Stand.”

Hongjoong did as he was ordered, but did not meet Seonghwa’s gaze, not until the tip of the sword was under his chin.

“You swear loyalty to me, no matter what happens? You’ll die for me if needed?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Tsk.”

“Seonghwa.”

The tip of the sword was pressed against Hongjoong’s throat, any more pressure and blood would be drawn. If this was the end Hongjoong would accept it. He deserved it for abandoning his friend. Instead Seonghwa pulled the sword away, stepping closer and returning the sword to its sheath.

“I will hold you to your words, Hongjoong.”

“I expect nothing less.”

“Thank you, for the wake up call.”

“You definitely need to sleep more, which is why it’s best you visit the princess during the day.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“Yes. I know how you can accomplish this.”

“Do tell.”

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

I agree with you on a lot of points here. The RWS narrative does Gordon dirty in some ways, and I don't think he's being rude or mean every time he's painted as such (although sometimes he really is and I don't want to minimize that).

And Gordon definitely comes to see himself as a protector or sort of alpha leader to the rest. I don't think he fulfills that role as quite well as he thinks he does, but he does frequently make the effort and his willingness to see himself as part of the group (even if it must be as the leader) is a definite and huge improvement from his initial role as a not-really-malicious but as a hilariously egotistical engine who had not one thought rattling in his smokebox except "meee! meeeeee! MEEEEEEE!" So, growth. I respect it.

"[W]hen big things happen, especially to "his people" and they are no longer in a position where he can look out for them, he feels irritated and upset" <- I think this is very rosy, probably gives him too much credit! He doesn't like being separated from "his people" because they are his friends and he feels bereft when they're gone. He seems to have a hard time expressing that, normally finds some excuse that (as you say) allows him to claim irritation instead of vulnerability. (He doesn't miss Thomas, he's overworked. He isn't overwhelmed and homesick and just doesn't wanna, it's that the trucks are uncouth and the job is impossible. He isn't hurt that Henry now has a different shape and they can't be mistaken for each other anymore, he's irritated that Henry is so noisy.) But even Gordon himself has never tried to excuse his vulnerability as concern for his friends' safety or well-being! His reaction to loss and change is totally human and understandable, but not noble. He just needs the support of familiar faces and his usual routine as much as anyone, indeed more than most. Gordon's a bit high-maintenance.

We can only guess on Annie and Clarabel's respect for him. I have a feeling it's simply because Gordon's at the top of the railway hierarchy and that's what they respect. They don't share Thomas's gadfly delight in thumbing his nose at that hierarchy, his shining confidence that he's worth infinitely more than "his place." I don't think Annie and Clarabel, as branch line coaches, necessarily know much of Gordon's character; they're just nice conventional old ladies.

I agree with you that I don't think "Hullo, fatface!" would have got lodged quite so deep in Gordon's smokebox if it hadn't come from Henry! It is kinda fascinating. Like, Gordon doesn't normally overreact to insults or teasing. He ignores it if he thinks it's beneath his notice (like the first howevermany times Thomas called him "lazybones" and ruined his nap, lol!) and if it merits a reaction he plans a very targeted punishment to get his own back (dragging Thomas on the Express, blocking Duck from the points to the shed the way he did to the big engines, etc.) But yes, Henry says that and he starts to immediately stew and spiral. I once wrote a post that included an analysis of how Gordon seems to regard most engines (including James) as "little" - he can patronize and condescend to them. One exception is Henry (the other is Edward). Which is all just to say... yeah, it's very interesting. Henry really pushes his buttons there - but Gordon lets him. He doesn't start thinking up a plan to punish Henry and put him in his place. Best he can do is retreat to self-aggrandizement, lol.

Oh, Gordon... I think he is a great representation of how the word "condescending" has changed in connotation over the course of the 20th century 😉 He clearly is of the old-school upper-crust view that condescension is a virtue!

Forever and Ever... Even in the 1920s-1960s

Started going down a long digression in the 2+4 essay. Gonna follow this breadcrumb trail over here instead...

One of my arguments is that Gordon actually behaves well and graciously way more often than he is usually given credit for (and starts doing this way earlier than often credited, too).

Along the way, I realized that his spots of bad behavior are not random. When he starts acting all Ass, it's almost always in the period of some sort of major change in his life:

The Three Railway Engines - *waves hand vaguely* all of it -> he's just transferred from the GNR to Sodor

Troublesome Engines - *waves hand again* y'know, all of it -> Thomas moved away :(

Henry the Green Engine - harrumphing about how Henry has let the side down in like three different ways directly after Henry's major reconstructive surgery -> the horrible wreck where Henry, his best friend, could have died, and instead was in hospital the rest of the damn winter

Gordon the Big Engine - "Mind you keep on the rails today!" and then, when he gets pushback, retreating to old friend "boasting" -> is he mother-henning Henry?? he's explicitly referencing the Kipper accident! I would not be too shocked to learn that Gordon gets twinges of unease that he never examines every so often whenever he sees Henry with a train

Percy the Small Engine - "Quack quack quack!" and trying to bully Duck (lol. lmao, even) -> Percy is gonna move away :(

Main Line Engines - getting on his high horse about "Branch Line Diesels" and then getting into a huge spat with Edward that results a brand-new beat-down of a dead horse named "Edward is Weak and Useless" -> We learn in "Wrong Road" that his fireman is new. Presumably his old fireman advanced to fill the role, leaving the vacancy... which means that Gordon recently lost his old driver to retirement.

You might be thinking "well yeah, stressors are stressful, most people's outbreaks of bad behavior have to do with some sort of Big Life Thing" - I certainly thought so, for a mo'. But this isn't true of the other major characters? James's worst behavior in the Wilbert books comes when he is slightly delayed sometimes during his work day and when Toby just, erm… exists. Thomas's worst behavior is because he… doesn't like his snowplough, and has a careless cleaner.

No, only Gordon's poor behavior can so consistently be linked to big changes. Indeed, not many RWS characters have been seen with quite as much of an interior life as we learn Gordon has in "Tenders for Henry." By that point, Gordon has matured enough that he doesn't express his feelings in this emotionally-stupid make-it-everyone's-problem sort of way. But we can see clearly that the end of steam seems to affect him more deeply than anyone else at Tidmouth.

So yeah, I think there's something real and insightful in the above pattern. Once again, my friends - Galloping Sausage with Feelings.

[beyondthislifetime]

People who truly dislike Edwina Sharma are wild. Heaven forbid an 18 year old be charmed after being almost relentlessly pursued by an older man. Three married women, including her mother, are for the match. THE QUEEN is for the match. The only person saying he isn't right for her is her sister and like I'm sorry but my sister could swear that a man wasn't that into me and I would not listen if he BOUGHT ME A HORSE!???!!?!!

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D

[kitorin]

I WANNA GET HIS NUMBER

[asukiess]

I also think the difference between Ladrien and Ladywalker is that like.... the repression goes from implicit to explicit (but still unspoken). Adrien is repressed, yes, but he stops with the repression and he still goes by the same name, he still wears the same face. Catwalker stops and he no longer is. He must cling to that repression for the sake of the relationship.

There's something about the stunted state of growth for Ladybug and Catwalker - Catwalker can't change for the better because if he does, he no longer exists. And maybe that traps Ladybug a little bit, too. Maybe she can't be pushed in the right direction by a partner who can't step a toe out of line in fear of changing the status quo. Maybe they'd both be so afraid of the way they can't seem to break the pattern that they both realize something has to give.

anon you have my whole heart. you GET it.

[rosaacicularis]

which was more culturally significant, the renaissance or hermitgang

[butchwink]

i got the best and worst booster box ever i pulled three blue eyes. but this was pokemon and it was the fucking duck. quaxlys evolution. i got a bunch of everything cause its a booster box but i pulled three quaquavals. i did it like an advent calendar with my friend. we opened maybe five packs the day we bought it and restrained ourselves for a month and had a pack a day it was so fun pulling these!

the third quaquaval was the rare one but not the gold one and i was so mad lmao it was the second last pack. forreal! and my pulls other than the full art wooper (lets fucking gooo) were shit i wanted a clodsire! i pulled one buying three packs a few days later no big deal lmao but i was so mad at this box.

the last pack had the rare tinkaton. i also got a full art boss's orders too im so happy it was such a funny fucking box in the end i pulled three fucking blue eyes i swear if i saw a fourth quaquaval too early i mightve actually ripped it in half. my problem is I LOST THEM ON THE FUCKING BUS AND LIKE MY WALLET ITS FATE IS WITH THE HUMANS OF OTTAWA AND THE FUCKERS AT OC TRANSPO THAT I TRUST SO MUCH FUCK MY LIFE

[bo0zey]

my manager has kids:(😕 but i have a new resident doctor crush soooo;)😳

[teaboot]

Passing on an important conversation I had with a family member the other day

Them: Gay people make me uncomfortable.

Me: (Queer, bluescreening) Uhhhhhhh

Them: I ean, I don't mind gay people, I just don't like the ones that are all in your face about it.

Me: What do you mean

Them: : I mean, like. It's fine if you're gay, you can be gay, that's not something you can change- there's just a time and a place, you know? You shouldn't be making it everyone else's business

Me: I don't know what you mean. Can you give me an example?

Them: Uhhhhh.

Them: Okay, so I was at a bar with my buddy a while back, right? And this gay person comes up to me, right, and they start flirting

Them: And I tell them, you know, I'm straight, and I'm married, right?

Me: Right

Them: And like. They kinda laugh it off, but they keep doing it. Making these comments, being all flamboyant, saying I have a nice ass, trying to give me their number in case I wanna "switch teams".

Them: And I'm sitting there like... hey, no problem with your whole lifestyle and all, but I told you I'm not interested. I'm married.

Them: That kinda thing. The whole "out and proud, cant shut me down" thing

Them: Like, leave that shit at home

Me:

Me: So it's like when a pretty lady is at a bar, and some guy comes over and won't leave her alone?

Them: Yeah

Me:

Me: So that's not a gay people thing, that's just flat-out sexual harassment

Them: what

Me: Your problem isn't gay people, it's assholes

Them:

Them: Well that sure would have sounded better, huh

[grapecaseschoices]

[screampied]

‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.

an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)

sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .

the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..

you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.

“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”

“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”

“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”

“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”

you were taken aback at how blunt he was.

a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.

you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.

“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”

they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.

“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”

“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”

“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.

sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”

“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”

your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.

a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”

“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”

“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.

toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”

and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.

not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.

the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.

inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.

“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.

sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.

you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”

“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”

sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.

“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”

“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.

he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”

you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.

you gulp, damn.

he wasn’t just big, he was huge…

your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.

staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.

“spit the fuck on it.”

five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.

you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.

once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.

“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.

“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.

“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”

your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.

“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.

“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”

one turns into two, then three, then four. . .

your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.

you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.

“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.

you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.

soaking, sopping wet,

three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.

the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”

you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”

“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.

“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.

idiots.

your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.

“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”

your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”

“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.

“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”

sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.

“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”

sukuna glares.

“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”

“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”

easy, sure.

with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.

he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”

“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”

“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.

you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.

who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?

“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”

toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.

“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.

so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”

“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”

you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”

“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..

toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.

“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”

sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”

you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”

“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”

you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.

“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”

he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”

“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.

with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”

“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”

“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”

“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”

still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.

“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.

you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”

toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.

when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.

“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”

“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”

toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.

he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”

he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.

“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.

you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”

toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”

“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.

“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”

sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.

“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”

“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.

toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”

“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”

[quecksilvereyes]

oh my god do not click links in emails that tell you to verify your data or your bank account gets locked or click links in messages telling you your safety protocol is ending, like, tomorrow, you will get SCAMMED SO BAD AND YOU WILL LOSE A LOT OF FUCKING MONEY never ever let anyone pressure you into giving away login information especially to your online banking by creating a sense of urgency oh my GOD

some things to look out for

1. spelling mistakes. do you know how many rounds of marketing and sales experts these things go through? if theres a spelling mistake dont click it

2. not using your name. if an email adresses you with "dear customer" or, even worse, a generic "ladies and gentlemen", it is most likely not actually targeted to you

3. verifying or login links. even IF your bank was stupid enough to send these to customers, dont EVER click those. look at me. they can legally argue that youve given your data away and thus they dont have to pay you anything back DONT CLICK THAT FUCKING LINK

4. creating a sense of urgency. do this or we lock your account next week. do this or your ebanking stops working tomorrow. give us all your money in cash or your beloved granddaughter will get HANGED FOR MURDERING BABIES. no serious organisation would ever do something like that over email or sms. ever. hands off.

5. ALWAYS CHECK WHO SENT YOU THE EMAIL. the display name and the email adress can vary a LOT. anyone can check the display name. look at the email adress. does it look weird? call the fucking place it says its from. you will likely hear a very weary sigh.

6. if its in a phonecall, scammers love preventing you from hanging up or talking to other people to have a little bit of a think about whats happening. there should always be a possibility to go hey i wanna think about this ill call back the official number thanks.

7. do not, i repeat, do NOT a) call a phone number flashing on your screen promising to rid your computer of viruses after clicking a dodgy link and b) let them install shit on your computer like. uh. idk. teamviewer.

7.i. TEAM VIEWER LETS PEOPLE USE YOUR COMPUTER HOWEVER THEY WANT AS LONG AS THEYRE CONNECTED. IF YOU DONT KNOW FOR FUCKING SURE YOURE TALKING TO ACTUAL TECH SUPPORT DONT GIVE ANYONE ACCESS TO YOUR COMPUTER.

fun little addendum: did you know a link can just automatically download shit? like. a virus? an app you can't uninstall unless you reset your entire device? dont click links unless youre extremely sure you know where they lead. hover your mouse over it and check the url.

thanks.

[heavenbarnes]

I wanna make it (so badly)

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

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

Word Count: 5.8k

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

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

Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.

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

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

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

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

Another odd job to add to your growing list.

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

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

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

You always did very well.

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

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

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

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

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

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

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

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

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

Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.

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

The woman that once held the world by the balls.

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

The Donaldson's.

Ah fuck.

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

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

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

There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.

You were no exception to the rule.

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

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

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

The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.

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

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

Oh, okay then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you knew he was watching you.

-

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

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

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

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

Felt good to be the winner.

Even just once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

The kid's running you ragged.

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

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

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

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

You know you're about to earn your keep.

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

Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.

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

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

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

The Original Sin.

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

"It's nice to finally meet you."

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

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

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

"How did she go out there?"

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

He laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Must've been distracted."

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

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

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

-

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

An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your elbow is too low."

It was a miracle you didn't scream.

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

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

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

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

"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."

Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.

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

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

It wasn't.

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

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

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

And Lily upon her trusty steed.

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

"Lily, go find grandma."

Then it really was just you two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good girl."

There it was.

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

So, you should've moved.

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

You should've moved.

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

Obedient thing you seem to be.

"Show me that again?"

So,

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

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

A simple transactional arrangement.

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

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

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

You figure Art will take what he can get.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

Chasing Lily around a court.

Adhering to Tashi's every request.

Being Art's fantasy.

Being Art's.

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

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

Winning?

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

Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.

Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.

Until, well- until they weren't.

"Would you like a coffee?"

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

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

Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.

"Yes please."

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

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

Had he always looked this captivating?

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

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

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

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

"Mr. Donaldson-"

"Art."

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

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

Naturally.

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

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

Maybe it was fate.

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

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

Yet.

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

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

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

"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"

"Actually, it's still Duncan."

You screamed.

Right in his face.

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

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

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

What a fucking sight.

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

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

It took all your strength to find your words.

"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”

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

There's the Tashi you were expecting.

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

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

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

"Why am I here?"

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

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

-

And he had, just like she'd said.

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

And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.

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

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

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

But the showerhead knew all about them.

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

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

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

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

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

Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?

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

You loved it.

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

Tashi's car was gone.

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

At least you didn't scream this time.

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

"Oh, ok."

"I'll see you on the court."

Oh, ok.

Lest he see the disappointment that took over.

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

Tennis was fun too, you guess.

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

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

It never came.

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

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

This was going to hurt.

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

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

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

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

Like he was enjoying himself.

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

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

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

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

No hurry, but impending.

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

Now this was God's favourite.

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

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

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

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

This was more your speed.

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

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

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

"I didn't give up."

He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.

"Mmm, you didn't."

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

"Where's my prize?"

There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With everything he had.

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

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

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

Utterly devotional.

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

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

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

The style was calculated.

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

Playing a game.

Art struggled to do anything but win.

"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."

"Art."

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

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

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

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

"Tell me this feels good, please."

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

You might black out.

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

He whined.

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

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

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

He was going for gold.

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

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

Oh, ok.

Art Donaldson knew what he liked.

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

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

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

A deuce.

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

"Uh- I already have."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can't lose- you."